The door clicks. My suit smells like whiskey and danger. “Evening, Mr. Wren,” I say dangerously. Mr Wren gulps. “I'll… I’ll pay… just need time.” I step closer. “Time costs. Miss one payment, and you don't live to regret it.” A stair creaks. I tilt my head, mischievous grin “Is that… your daughter?” I ask, voice low and dangerous. He stammers, shaking. “Y-yes… it’s.. grin wider and walks over to her. "Come with me. Help your father or watch him burn,and i take you anyway."
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