Lethal

Chapter 2: Factory

"I know you're angry with us and all," I finally said, "but can you hit pause on that and help me out here?"

"Of course, I'd help you out." she finally stopped, rolling her eyes, "What do you want me to do?"

At once she was pulling out her laptop and I handed her the flash drive of the CCTV footage.

"This is the only guy not wearing a mask." I pointed to the screen, "But it's blurry so we can't figure it out. Can you make it a little clearer?"

"Let me see, hold on."

After a little clicking and cursing, she finally got us a much clearer picture. She then hit print, making a couple of copies.

"I'm going to send this out to my contacts." she chimed, "See if anyone recognizes him."

Before we could go any further, someone burst through the door. The three of us turned around to see Wayne, panting and gasping as he held on to the door, leaning against it for support.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. My hand instantly went to my gun when I saw his bruised lip and blood trickling down his forehead.

Beside me, Feroz and Penelope did the same, at once on high alert.

"It's the Donatis."

"What? What the hell are they doing here?"

"I don't know." Wayne replied, still panting, "But he wants to talk to you, Lexi."

"Who?"

"Alistair."

I walked back into the club, Feroz by my side and Penelope and Wayne following closely behind. Unlike before, it had been cleared out, and not a single customer was in sight.

My eyes quickly surveyed the room, noticing two men at the entrance, one on the dance floor and two others at either corner at the end. Another one, who did not look older than eighteen years, casually strolled around the room, picking up glasses and bottles from different tables and throwing them on the floor.

"You're going to pay for that, you know," I called out.

He stopped abruptly and turned around to face me, a devious smile growing on his face. He brought another glass up to his shoulder, giving me a pointed look, and then let it go. It came crashing down on the floor, its bits and pieces scattering around.

To say that I was annoyed and livid would be an understatement. Who the fuck does he think he is, coming here and breaking things?

I started towards him, intent on snapping one of his wrists and getting an apology out of him. But when a deep voice interrupted my vengeful march, I halted and turned my head to its source.

"You may not want to do that."

My attention zeroed in on the bar, where a man sat on one of the seats, casually helping himself to a drink.

"Alexandra." he mused, taking another sip, "Or should I say 'Letalé'."

My direction changed, and I strode over to the bar. Taking a seat next to him, I leaned forward over the counter and picked up a glass, pouring me a drink as well.

"You must be Alistair Donati." I replied in the same cool tone, "And not famous enough to have a nickname."

"And here I thought I was too vain," he mumbled, shooting me a small smirk.

Another loud crash erupted from behind us, and I turned my head to see the same guy who was breaking glasses. He had kicked one of the glass-topped tables to the floor, the remnants of it spreading across the floor in sharp pieces.

"Mr. Donati, I would advise your lackey to stop before I gut him with the same glass pieces," I warned the man beside me, my voice seething.

His eyebrows shot up, somehow more amused than scared by my threat. But he obliged, turning around and calling out to the guy, "Mikhael, quit it."

The man in question let out a protesting sound but listened to what Alistair said.

"Now then," I turned back, satisfied, "cutting this dreadfully boring conversation short, may I know the purpose of this visit?"

"Very well." he sighed. Digging into his pocket he took out his phone. He searched through it for a couple of seconds before placing it on the bar and sliding it towards me.

"Over last two months, twenty-seven members of my family have ended up dead, murdered to be specific, in the most gruesome ways possible," he explained, as I swiped through the pictures one after the other.

"There is one similarity in all those murders, and that is-"

"The 'X's marked on their foreheads." I finished for him, putting down the phone.

"Which, correct me if I'm wrong, is your signature." he went on.

"You think I murdered all these people?" I asked, sliding the phone back to him.

"Did you?" he challenged. And for the first time in our conversation these past few minutes, his demeanor changed. The amusement in his voice was replaced with fire and his eyes hardened with accusation.

"I didn't," I reply truthfully, staring him right in the eyes.

"And why should I believe that?"

"Because I said so." I shrugged my shoulders, letting him know that it's up to him to believe me or not.

"And I'm supposed to just take your word for it?"

"I don't owe you any justification, Mr. Donati, and I'll certainly not be intimidated into providing you with one," I told him firmly, nodding towards his men, "but since we're being civil, I'll say this. My job may not be the most ideal or moral in the world but I take fair credit for those who I kill, and I certainly don't lie about it."

He stared at me, unblinking, listening.

"Having said that, no, I did not kill anyone from your family. And yes, you'll have to take my word for it." I finished, standing up from my seat and finishing the last of my drink.

And something told me that he believed what I said.

I turned back enough to say over my shoulder, "Now take your posse and get the hell out of this club."

As I walked down the small steps towards where Feroz was standing, Alistair's voice rang out again.

"Then help me find out who killed them."

I paused and slowly turned around.

"What?"

"Not to boost your ego," he began, "but I have heard great things about you. And I could use your help."

"I'll take that compliment." I smirked, "But I'll also tell you that all my assignments are approved by my Boss, Xavier."

"I'll talk to him then," Alistair replied, looking determined.

"Let me finish, Mr. Donati." I spoke calmly, "Right now, I have more pressing matters to take care of, due to which I am not working with anyone."

He looked at me, and I could see that he was not pleased with my answer. Clearly, he was not used to being turned down.

"One last thing." I said, with the politest smile on my face, "I'll take a check for all the damage little Mikey over there has done."

"Surely your Boss has enough money to pay for the repairs," Mikhael spoke up sarcastically from where he was seated.

"He does." I turned to him, my annoyance returning, "But I am not going to let an immature jackass come in here and break things for fun."

Before he could reply, Alistair cut in between us with his calm voice.

"Send me the bill, Alexandra." he held out his hand, a card between his fingers.

When I reached forward to take it, his hand clasped around mine, surprising me.

"I hope to see you soon," he whispered, leaning down and placing the lightest kiss on my knuckles.

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