Dominic's fist hovered in mid-air, still trembling. Only then did he notice the man's lifeless form, his face disfigured.
He stepped back and dropped into the chair, breathing hard.
Lucas signaled the men to take the body away.
When the room was cleaned, Lucas handed Dominic a glass of water. "Marco is stronger now," he said cautiously. "We should reconsider attacking."
"No." Dominic stared ahead, eyes burning. "I won't hide anymore. We'll carry out the plan on time."
Lucas held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.
Later that day…
When Dominic slipped into the apartment, it was getting dark. Thankfully, Mila had not returned yet.
He strode straight to his room and headed to the sink, turning on the tap. Cold water ran over his hands as he scrubbed his blood-stained knuckles. He changed his clothes, washing and wiping until no stain remained. Then he stepped to the balcony and lit up a cigarette.
