Chapter 2: It was supposed to be a wonderful night

She remembered vividly that she slept on Hardy, but now he was over her, covered in blood!

Rachael with widened eyes struggled to recall what precisely happened. The knife in her hand fell off when she lifted it. A gasp escaped from her lips. Did she do this? The question lingered but wasn't sure of the answer. Her heartbeat increased rapidly as she tipped him over with all her might.

Her heart stopped when she accessed him. He was covered in blood with two stab wounds on his chest. His olive skin had turned pale and his lips slightly parted. With shaky hands, Rachael shook him but didn't get a response. A whimper escaped from her lips as she placed her index finger underneath his nose to confirm if he was dead. He wasn't breathing.

Her breathing went faster. Why couldn't she remember anything? She didn't remember killing him, but the murder weapon was in her hands. Her eyes darted around the hotel room. It looked the same. The sun crept through the tiny creek of the curtain, reflecting on Hardy's pale face. It made her feel more guilty so she rushed to the curtain to shut it.

Why did she feel guilty? Killing somebody was the last thing she was capable of doing. Even with that reassurance, it didn't take the guilt away.

When she was still trying to calm herself, the thought of him being one of the most influential men in Chicago came to her mind. Her fear doubled. Plus, his brother was a ruthless man who would bring her down with or without the police.

The thought of running away came to her mind. She immediately embraced it. If she could successfully get out of the hotel, the next step was to leave the state, change her identity and probably run for the rest of her life.

Rachael embraced this idea and immediately jumped off the bed. Her body had a lot of his blood. She searched her purse for her phone to check the time. It was ‘8:25 am’ She had just about thirty-five minutes before the janitor arrives to clean the room.

She rushed to the bathroom to wash the blood off. No matter how hard she tried to take the blood off, it all availed to nothing. The blood had already dried off. Out of frustration, she turned on the shower to take a quick one. The moment the cold water grazed her skin, she shivered. It was almost as if reality hit her too. She shook, sobbing silently. The water took every atom of tears from her eyes but didn't take the pain away.

Rachael wasted not a bit of time. She slipped on her dress immediately after she got out of the shower. Was about to leave after she grabbed her car keys from the stand, but abruptly stopped when a thought crossed her mind. If her DNA was found on the murder weapon it will make it easier for her to be caught. No, she couldn't risk that.

After wrapping the knife with an old newspaper she found lying inside the closet, she put the knife inside her bag. Her heart skipped a few beats when she looked at Hardy. His lifeless hand dangled outside the bed. How much she wished he would wake up and tell her this was an April fool's prank even though it wasn't April.

It was a miracle how she was able to get passed the receptionist without many questions. She was grateful for the numerous distractions the receptionist had which enabled her to slip off.

Even though she was out of there, the image of Hardy and his blood couldn't leave her mind. She couldn't even drive properly. Occasionally, she tried to bring her breathing to a normal range, but it wasn't working. How could it be when she was faced with the reality of her being a murderer?

She grabbed her phone that lay on the other seat to dial Andrew's number. The only person she could trust at this point. He was the only friend she could confide in.

"Andrew" she called out. Her voice stunned her. It was shaky and raspier. Even Andrew noticed.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you home?" a whimper escaped from her lips as she said these words. She couldn't even control the tears that flowed down her cheek. All she could do was let herself become buried in profound bleakness.

"Yes, but are...." He tried saying, but the call was ended. Rachael couldn't do this. Her shaky hands weren't even able to grasp a phone properly. If this was hard for her, how the hell was she going to defend herself if she gets into police custody

---

The view of Chicago from Xavier's office window always brought a certain thrill to him. He watched as cars drove by, and passers-by walked with a lot of haste. Occasionally he took a sip from the glass of drink wrapped around his hand. All this was done to ease his tensed self. It always worked, but this time it didn't.

A knock came through the door. It snapped him from his thought as he muttered a shallow response. Just as he had expected, Ralph came through the door. His dark eyes held a grin, walking with confidence as he took each stride. Xavier hated it.

"Gary said you needed to see me" he sat on a seat opposite Xavier's table. At this point, Xavier was stunned at his aplomb.

"I did" Xavier nodded as he left the window side and sauntered over to where Gary was. He sat on the table, settling the glass in his hand, down on it. Xavier was about to say the main reason he called him, but abruptly stopped because the look of excitement on Ralph's face distracted him. "Does your excitement have anything to do with the importation?"

"Oh" Ralph straightened his face and sat upright. "Partly"

"The good arrived?'"

"Yes they have and they are been moved to the warehouse as we speak"

"And you checked every one of them?"

"I did sir"

Xavier nodded, "make sure you don't get in trouble with the police during the transportation. I don't want what happened the last time to repeat itself.

"Where is Hardy?" he pinched the bridge of his nose after giving off his mild warning"

"He was earlier in Weston club. I haven't seen him since then".

"His phone isn't going through. Find him and tell him to get more serious with this" after that was said, Xavier got up from his seat and walked over to the window side once more. "That's all"

Ralph walked towards the door after getting up from his seat. The sound of the door shutting signified he was gone. Xavier went to his desk and got a gun from his locker. Staring at it, a sigh escaped from his lips. He grabbed his phone from his desk and dialed a number, placing it on his ear while he waited for it to be answered.

"The moment she sets her foot down from her car, bring her to me," he said coldly then abruptly ended the call.