by all means of the word, she should be dead.
he had been sent on a hit. that is where he first met her. a rivaling mob, one of which the tarasovs wanted to deal away with quietly. they had been imposing too much business on their territories. something else about a threat. really, to john, it never mattered. the reason behind why people needed to die. those would point ... and he would shoot. while he had eliminated most of the gang quietly, some of them were intent on taking him down. others intent on getting their boss to safety.
which had led him to the building she had been in. while it had been mostly quiet, the fallout between the head mobster’s guards and himself had caused a ruckus. dead body there, dead body here, and it led to his real target finally getting eliminated. blurting out some pleas and information as he had done so, but nevertheless, his mission had been complete. and when he had left is when he had realized she had seen the whole thing.
the tarasovs didn’t appreciate that she had. even less so that he had let her see it. wrong time, wrong place, he’d claim --- but it wasn’t satisfactory to viggo. so ... that’s why he’s here. coming out of the shadows in the parking lot, late at night. only taking a few steps forward, but not getting too close.
there’s a moment he stands there, basking in his own silence. no one knows he’s here. everyone thinks he’s still in his room at the continental. what information the gang’s leader had spat out was confidential. perhaps rubbish to anyone who didn’t know that the world of the continental existed, but still sensitive information. information that could leave unwanted visitors to the continental’s grounds. nosy ones. so really, he had a feeling that viggo was only just a mere puppet from the high table itself. another moment passes before he speaks, ❛ you need to tell me you didn’t hear anything. ❜
