mm_j (mm_j) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2010-07-14 15:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | npc |
Somewhere in the City; Late Wednesday night, Early Thursday morning...
Victor sat on the floor of his work room, studiously rubbing at a scuff on the toe of his shiny black Prada loafers that just wasn't going to go away. They were ruined. Forever.
He glared at the lifeless body that was slumped over his work table with renewed anger. The silly bitch! Didn't she know how to dance? How hard was it to learn a simple waltz? He knew she'd been taught. She was an heiress to one of the biggest oil dynasties in the country, but she was just sloppy. Stupid. Perfectly incapable of being a real lady. Killing her slowly had really been a service, hadn't it? The world was full of worthless women. What was the loss of one more?