Chapter 2: the end of world (2)
Luck, they said. The kind that gives you a mentor, a guide through the dark labyrinth of the world. Victor was mine. A man capable of uncovering the most trivial gossip as well as the best-kept secrets—like what the mayor had whispered to his wife the night before. Money opened all doors, even those leading to murder. The only limit was the depth of your purse. If the sky were to collapse, Victor would know before the first stone hit the ground.
I settled comfortably into the armchair across from him, scanning the room for my favorite drink. One had to be mentally prepared for the conversation that was about to unfold.
" I thought if the sky fell, you wouldn’t even break a sweat, I quipped, a hint of irony in my voice."
He turned toward the shelf where his prized collection of spirits rested. His nimble fingers seized an aged bottle before he sank into his leather armchair. How many heads had rolled for him to afford such luxury?
"I’m only human, after all, he replied once he was settled."
"You drinking?"
he asked, offering me a glass filled with amber liquid. Whiskey, judging by its color.
"You know me well enough, Victor. Why even ask?" I retorted, impatience creeping in.
"Don’t say I didn’t warn you."
He had a knack for dragging things out.