Traitor
Koslov knew he wasn’t alone the moment he opened his apartment door. Stepping further in, he reached for the revolver in his suit holster.
The lights flicked on. Fru Fru stood on the kitchen counter.
Before Koslov could say anything, a wave of weakness came over him. He crashed to his knees, shaking, heaving dinner onto the floor. “Wh-what—”
“Poison. On the doorknob. A lingering death. I want to know WHY you told Savage I’d be in Little Rodentia. You think, with his family dead, Father would pass the business on to YOU?”
Koslov fell onto his side, words becoming a struggle. “You . . . turned traitor. Giving away secrets. N-na-naming names. Pu-p-pushing for . . . legitimacy . . . the Savages prom . . . PROMISED . . .”
Silence. Stillness. Fru Fru looked down at her foolish old bodyguard, refusing the tears heating her eyes.