A plan that meant David would not be killing the stupid idiot. Bianca had vision, yes. She had patience. She had the kind of intelligence men underestimated.
But sometimes, she dragged things for too long.
David stepped into the pizza parlour. The bell above the door gave a cheerful little jingle, absurdly bright in the silence. Tools lay scattered near the counter. Machines sat in awkward places.
The smell of blood hit him. David paused just inside the door and inhaled lightly.
Hmmm.
Delicious.
He had missed this.
Not the mess, necessarily. Mess offended him but the scent, the reminder that bodies were fragile things no matter how much muscle men packed onto them.
Tony hurried over to him, pale and shaking. "David! Thank God you are here…"
David looked at him. Tony's shirt was damp with sweat. His eyes were wide. His hands would not stop moving, opening and closing. David had no time for his hysterics. "Well...you finally fucked up. I told Bianca you would."
