Dirty work

Richard slowly turned to face the person who had dared to slap him on the head.

Kristin’s eyes sparkled with anger as she glared at Richard, though she could sense the cold aura radiating from him.

“What was the meaning of that?” he asked, his gaze fixed on her, his voice dangerously calm.

“Give me back my bag,” Kristin demanded, stretching out her hand and ignoring his question.

“What bag are you talking about?”

“You stole from me, and now you’re going to pretend like you didn’t?” Kristin’s voice wavered slightly, but she held her ground.

Richard’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, Kristin felt a shiver run down her spine.

“I stole from you? Have you lost it?” he growled, his tone filled with menace.

“The man who stole from me was wearing a hoodie just like yours,” Kristin shot back.

“And you assume it was me?” His eyebrows knit together, disbelief mixed with anger.

“You can’t blame me. Vegas is full of fakes. People dress rich to fit in, and then they rob others,” Kristin retorted, trying to justify her mistake.

Richard took a step closer, towering over her with his imposing height.

“Are you new here? Don’t you know who I am? Do you think I would fake my life just to steal mere change from you? I could have you erased from existence if I wanted,” he said, his deep voice sending chills down her spine.

Kristin forced a laugh, stepping back slightly. She had grown up in the slums, where fear meant weakness, and she wasn’t about to show weakness now.

“Oh, my bad! You must be the king of Vegas. I’m sorry if I mistook you for the thief. I’ll go my way, and you should do the same,” Kristin said with a nervous chuckle.

She turned to leave, but Richard’s hand shot out, grabbing her by the hood of her yellow sweatshirt.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was a low, menacing rumble.

“Home,” she replied in a small voice, her bravado fading as her heart pounded in her chest.

It was her first time in Las Vegas, and she was already in deep trouble.

“Do you think I’d let you go after what you did? You still need to pay the price for laying those filthy hands on me,” he said, his voice hovering over her like a dark cloud.

---

Kristin sat across from Richard, clenching her fingers under the table to stop them from trembling. His cold eyes bore into her, making her feel as though he could see right through her.

Luke’s voice broke the tense silence, pulling her back to reality.

“What’s your name?” asked Luke, Richard’s personal assistant, a man with jet-black hair and a calm demeanor.

“Kristin Santiago,” she answered quickly.

“How long have you been in Las Vegas?”

“This is my first time. I’ve lived all my life in Glenwood. I only came here to make money, and pay off my parents’s debts. Please, let me go; I didn’t know Mr. Grouchy wasn’t the one who stole my bag.”

“Grouchy?” Richard’s eyebrow twitched, and Kristin quickly looked down, avoiding his piercing gray eyes.

“It’s a miracle you’re still alive,” Luke muttered, more to himself than to her.

Richard leaned forward, his face dangerously close to Kristin’s. “I kept you alive because I wanted to confirm something. It’s no coincidence that you mistook me for a thief. Did that scheming woman send you to spy on me?”

“What woman? I don’t know any scheming woman!” Kristin’s voice rose in panic as Richard grabbed a pen and slammed it onto the table with force.

She flinched, but Luke didn’t; he was accustomed to Richard’s temper, though it still unnerved him.

“You’d better start talking, or this pen will go straight into your neck. I don’t care if you’re a woman. I hate women the most in this world. So if you value your life, start telling the truth,” Richard hissed, his breath cold against her face.

Kristin could feel the tension in the room tightening around her. She knew Richard wasn’t bluffing—he could end her life with a single snap of his fingers.

Her mind raced, searching for a way out. She couldn’t die here, not after all she’d been through to get to Las Vegas.

The only thing that came to mind was the one skill she’d honed to perfection: crying. She could make anyone believe her with her tears, even when they were far from genuine.

“You’re testing my patience, Peanut! Did Ophelia send you to spy on me? Answer me!” Richard’s voice boomed through the room, making her jump.

Tears began to well up in Kristin’s eyes, and she let them spill over. “I don’t know who this Ophelia is. I swear, I’m new here. I don’t know anyone in Vegas; I only came here to work and take care of my family in Glenwood,” she sobbed.

Her tears flowed freely now, though they were as fake as her bravado earlier. She was good at this—too good. People always fell for it.

“I’m not a spy, Mr. Grouchy,” Kristin added, her voice trembling as she tried to sell her innocence.

But Richard’s eyes remained cold, unblinking. “Do you really think I’d fall for those crocodile tears?”

Kristin’s heart sank. No one had ever resisted her tears before. What kind of man was he?

Before she could react, Richard’s hand shot to her neck, his grip tightening as he began to strangle her.

Kristin gasped for air, her hands clawing at his, but his grip was relentless. His eyes were filled with nothing but hatred.

If Luke hadn’t intervened, she knew she wouldn’t have survived.

Kristin collapsed back in her chair, coughing and struggling to catch her breath.

“Richard, stop! I don’t think she’s working for your mom.”

“She is not my mom!” Richard’s voice roared through the room as he released her, sending a flower vase crashing to the floor.

“I’m sorry for calling Ophelia your mom, but I don’t think Kristin is working for her.”

“How can you be so sure? All she did was shed fake tears! You know Ophelia has always wanted to ruin me in front of my father! And now, she sends a woman to do her dirty work?” Richard shouted, his anger still burning.

Luke asked Kristin to leave, and she did so without hesitation. The drama Richard just displayed is enough to give her a heart attack.

“I know Ophelia’s always been out to get you, but I don’t think Kristin is part of her scheme. She’s too innocent to be working for Ophelia. In fact, I think you might actually need her,” Luke said carefully.

Richard frowned. “Need her? How?”