Eight o'clock came too fast and too slow.
The door opened. Dante walked in, carrying a chair. Set it down facing the bed.
He had a bottle of whiskey in his other hand. Expensive. Single malt.
He poured himself a glass. Pulled out a cigarette. Lit it.
"Good evening." He smiled, taking a drag. "I trust you're both ready for tonight's entertainment."
Behind him, Atlas entered. His face pale. His hands shaking.
"Atlas." Dante gestured to Novalee with his cigarette. Settled into his chair. Crossed his legs. "She's all yours. Show me what seven days of care and concern have built between you."
He took a sip of whiskey. Smoked. Watched. Like he was settling in for a show.
Atlas stood frozen.
"Now, Atlas. Or the deal is off and I finish what I started on Day Thirteen."
Atlas moved to the
