DARWINISM.

I didn't sleep like I planned to. I read through the entire contract agreement between Aleksandr and Zack Frost and Tomas Martin and didn't realize that it was morning till the rising bell went off. They are into a human trafficking business and have been doing it for long. Tomas is supposed to bring in at least, five hundred people in three months. If he's unable to bring this number of people in three consecutive months, he is supposed to multiply the number or give one if his own to them. one of his own. What do they mean by that? And he only gets twenty percent of the deal or of the money they'll be making from such a barbaric business.

  I need to hide these documents. I get up and look around the room, then I spot the wardrobe. Right, the wardrobe. I push the heavy wood away and remove the tile, the dig into the place I hid the money container and lift the rectangle box. Patrick will be bringing back the money tonight. I'm sure he knows better not to pull any stunts, but if he does, I'll be sure to teach him a lesson he'll keep like a second skin. I wrap the documents in a black poly bag and lay it carefully in the ground and place the rectangle box on it. I cover up the hole and place the tile back, then push the wardrobe back to its. I sweep and collect the sand at the foot of the wardrobe and rearrange every cloth and the bags, then I go for a shower. It's going to be a very long exhausting day.

I yawn and continue mopping the floor of the hallway leading to the living room. The walls of the hall are adorned with many paintings of different mountains and landscapes. I yawn again and lean against the wall I feel like I might pass out and its funny because I've had three cups of coffee, black like night, and here I am still feeling this way. I hurry with the mopping then head back to the kitchen to meet Amy. She's decided to help me with the chores even after I promised her to do all the chores as a sign of remorse and to show that I'll listen to her. She's kneading dough when I came to the kitchen around five thirty a.m. She said she was going to be baking some croissant for breakfast. " Miss Gloire wants us to make some French toasts for her, she'll be dining with master and some clients, help me, would you?" 

I nod and get to work. She fetches the tray of silver wares and walks to the entrance of the kitchen, " I need to put these on the dining table, I'll be back." I wanted to ask her if Miss Gloire was allowed to eat at the same table with the boss but I'm feeling so disoriented, I'm saving the remaining energy for making these French toasts. Once again, I'm about to do something that involves fire and making something edible. I can do this; it shouldn't cause any call to 911 plus I did this for Rosanna when she was heartbroken by that Navy seal guy, Jamie. He was fine as hell, even I secretly had a crush on him and till date, I still feel guilty about feeling that way towards by best friend's boyfriend. I dip the bread into the mixture of milk, eggs, cinnamon and condensed milk. Rosanna taught me how to make this mixture and it's so yummy, because the condensed milk gives it this creamy and sweet taste. All this work of magic for Miss Gloire. I hate that I'm doing this for Miss Gloire.

I flip the bread in the pan and wait, my thoughts still in the cloud, then I feel a cold hand wrap around me unexpectedly, causing me to jolt and turn around. 

Amy. 

I try to speak, but she covers my mouth with her hands, signaling me not to say a word. The silence hangs heavy in the air as I wait for her to do or say something. What the fuck is going on? Her chest rises and falls in fear as she stares back at the entrance. What did she see? I'm tired of the tension she's building, so I pull her hand away from my lips and whisper, " What did you see?"

She looks back at me and swallows nervously, " Miss Gloire, she... she shot and killed Patrick."  she whispers back.

What? Now it's my turn to be shocked but not scared. I knew the bitch was treacherous, I've heard her calls and I expect even more than she's just done, but Patrick? Why will she shoot Patrick? Was she working with Patrick? Oh, fuck this! Patrick owes me money for crying out loud! The imbecile was supposed to bring it today at sunset, now how the hell am I going to get my money back? I should have hassled and scared the lights out of him to bring it sooner, now look. Fucking Gloire! 

She grabs a hold of my arm, and shakes it vigorously, yanking me out of my thoughts and asks, clearly annoyed, " Did you hear me? I said Miss Gloire has killed Patrick, shot him dead. Dead, like dead." 

" Yes, yes, I heard you... I heard what you said, Patrick is dead, now where the hell am I going to find that money? The idiot was supposed to meet me at sunset with it, and he just went off to go and die, fuck!" I say, pacing across the small space.

She looks at me, eyes wide and jaw literally on the floor, " Sasha... What's... what's wrong with you?"  she gazes at me, eyes scanning me from my head to toe, a mix of shock and disbelief evident. It's as if she's questioning herself if it's the same person she once knew. 

" What's wrong with me? Really?" I laugh sarcastically, maybe I'll spell it out to her, "Amy maybe you've forgotten but, Patrick was no good man, and don't get me wrong, I wasn't wishing his death, but he does deserve it, irrespective of what he's done to Miss Gloire. He decided to prey on innocent girls like us and he didn't mind slamming me against the wall yesterday and choking me to death, just because he wanted to take some money that didn't even belong to him, so spare me that crap about what is wrong with me and think about us!" I say, voice raising at each word.

She doesn't respond, she just looks at me with disgust. A burning smell fills my nose, oh shit! The French toast. I turn and take the pan off the fire.

" I don't know what got into you and I don't want to know Sasha, but this, this clearly isn't you, the sweet, beautiful Sasha, who despite her stubbornness had an empathy for everyone, good and bad. " 

I place the pan in the sink, pick another one and continue cooking the French toast in the butter. Her words sink in, and I don't know if to laugh or call her stupid. Empathy, she said empathy. Is she not dealing with life or playing this life game? The world doesn't need empathy, the world preys on and hurts the empathetic. The world milks the empathetic and when there's nothing left for them to milk, they kill them. 

When the silence proceeds longer than she can handle, she continues, " Go on and ignore me! I don't know you to be the cold-blooded bitch you're trying so hard to be now Sasha! You're better than this, you're better than what you're portraying right now! Don't mistake me Sash, I'm not saying he's right for slamming you into the wall or worst, even choking you, I'm saying you have to know better than--"

"Shut the fuck up! What do you know about life anyway? What do you know about playing the life game? Nothing! If you've been through or seen what I had to see, you'll shut up and play. I've heard enough from you about me being cold et ce tera! Didn't they tell you the thing about Darwinism?" 

She swallows and looks on the floor, " Natural selection baby, the survival of the fittest. If you want to live and win at this life game, you've got to understand that, others just can't survive, and you need not become the others who don't survive," I walk towards her and tuck a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear and continue voice even, " You do everything in your power to win, and not be killed while trying at it, but while doing that, understand that you'll lose too, but make sure it's not your life."

A traitorous tear travels down my cheek but I don't let it fall, I push out my togue and catch it at the right time then I sniffle, " Somethings got to give, Amy." Rosanna' s smiling face flashes in my head, Rosanna. My best friend. 

I walk away from her and go back to the French toasts. Amy stays quiet for a long time and then hugs me from behind. " I'm sorry I had to say that, but Sasha, no matter what happens, someone dying should be something you should feel a bit of remorse about, I get you, but I'm not turning off my human feelings like you." Then she walks away. 

Amy left and returned several minutes later, eyes red ad puffy from crying. Probably crying for Patrick. I won't tell her not to. They're her feelings, not mine. And as expected, she doesn't talk to me. We set the table for breakfast and wait for the guests come in so we can usher them into their seats and also serve them, it's just nine o'clock in the morning. Miss Gloire descends the stairs in a red suit pants and jacket with a white blouse inside. Her six-inch red bottoms click against the floor announcing her arrival. Her hair is perfectly straightened and falls behind her mid back. Her face looks younger and prettier today. Thank God for makeup. She waltzes like a queen, like she didn't just shoot and kill anyone earlier this morning.

She shakes the hand of the tall lanky man with a wide nose and thin lips, hair blonde falling around the nape of his neck. His black charcoal suit screams expensive and that's the only thing that adds shine to his appearance. " Hello Mr. Robert, nice to meet you." She says sweetly and I roll my eyes. Jezebel.

"Nice meet-"

"Roberts, you're here." The master says blankly from behind cutting him off and I immediately bow my head. He already sounds annoyed about something; I won't want Amy and I to become collateral Damage.

"Hello Alexsandr," he says, tone respectful. Everyone fears him, don't they?

The master doesn't respond, he only walks past Amy and I and takes a seat at the head of the table.  The others follow suit and take their seats. Arrogant man.

"Zack and Tomas should be here soon." Miss Gloire says. 

A cold shiver runs down my spine at what Miss Gloire just said. Zack and Tomas are going to be joining them? What do they plan on doing? Why will the people she's working with to bring down master come to his house? the lion's lair. I hope they don't tell us to excuse them, cause I need to hear everything they'll discuss.

"Leave it to Zack to walk into every meeting late." Master says, annoyance evident in his voice.

"We're here." A nasal voice says. 

" Ah Zack, Tomas, have a seat let's get started." 

"Both of you, out of here." Miss Gloire says, dismissing us.

Damnit Miss Gloire! I walk away, but not without catching a glimpse of Zack and Tomas. My eyes widens, Master and Zack are identical twins? Amy grabs my arm and continues moving. I stopped walking? I didn't even realize it. Tomas has his arm in a sling and the left side of his face plastered. Then I remember miss Gloire telling Zack over the phone that Tomas has been injured and that plan B needed to be in action.

I tug at her arm, and she stops to give me a deathly glare when we turn onto the corner. "Can we just wait here a bit; I need to hear what they're saying." I whisper.

She rolls her eye in annoyance and whispers back, " Sasha, please, no more trouble we could get killed." 

"Please." I beg and give her a pouty face.

'Fine, two minutes."

We stand there and eavesdrop. They seem to be going back and forth over something. Something about a drug getting missing and an attack. Then the nasal voice speaks again, Zack. " Aleksandr, what makes you think I have a hand in it?"

He might have a nasal voice, but they don't stop the goosebumps from growing on my skin.

A hand slams on the table and the glassware clatter in response, "You think you can lie to be Zack?" Aleksandr asks him coldly, if I were him, I'll fear.

Silence and tension builds in the air but Zack only laughs in response. 

Then out of nowhere, a gun is fired, and someone screams.