Chapter 8

Perhaps it was simply the mentality of playing with prey before killing it. Angel often did the same when catching cockroaches. The fat cat would tap the cockroach with its front paws, making it run around, and when it got bored of that, it would tear off the antennae and legs one by one and watch it struggle. When Eugene couldn't stand it anymore and wrapped the cockroach in tissue to flush it down the toilet, only then would the cat lose interest and slink under the bed to take a nap. If Valentine planned to play with Eugene before killing him, unlike the cockroach, his final destination wouldn't be the toilet but the bottom of the Brooklyn harbor or the East River, not far from here.

"Shouldn't we pay for these first?"

Eugene quietly asked instead of accepting the bag.

"I'm the owner here. You like candy, don't you?"

Valentine asked with a bright smile. This blonde beauty who owned the candy store—something Eugene hadn't realized last night—seemed slightly dimwitted when speaking in broad daylight like this. Or at least that was the impression he was trying to give.

"I don't particularly care for candy. I eat them for a sugar boost when studying, but I don't specifically like them."

When Eugene carefully replied, Valentine's eyebrow rose slightly. Ah, damn it. Even that gesture was breathtakingly attractive.

"Then what do you like? Flowers? Cars?"

Valentine asked, carelessly tossing the candy bag onto the display counter.

"Well... if I had to say... money, I suppose."

Eugene answered carefully, but with certainty.

"Money?"

Valentine softly echoed. Eugene wondered if his answer was too materialistic, but it didn't matter. What was the point of pretending in front of a murderer? Eugene was currently a witness. Therefore, it was necessary to emphasize that this witness really loved money and could be bought off for the right price. He actually did love money, too.

"Have you ever met someone who doesn't like money? The world runs on money."

Eugene said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Valentine turned and went to the back of the store. Eugene swallowed dryly, imagining what he might be going to get. Surely he wouldn't bring out a gun and shoot him now. This candy store had a large glass window at the front. If someone collapsed bleeding inside, passersby would have a perfect view.

Valentine's blonde hair was visible between the tall candy displays. He paused somewhere briefly before returning to Eugene.

"I'll give you this as a gift."

Valentine held out a brown paper bag identical to the one he'd offered earlier. Unlike before, this one had its opening crimped closed. When Eugene didn't take it, Valentine forcibly placed it in his hands.

"Open it."

Valentine urged with expectant eyes.

He didn't want to open it, but with such eager eyes staring at him and urging him on, he couldn't refuse. Eugene suppressed his trembling heart and opened the bag.

"...This is..."

Eugene said in a surprised voice. The bag, the size of a child's head, was filled with bundles of bills. Benjamin Franklin's face was printed on the front of each bill. They were $100 bills.

"This is way too much."

Eugene muttered as if talking to himself. As a witness to Valentine's murder, he was certainly willing to be bought off to keep his mouth shut. But he never expected such a large sum. What if the money became a problem and Valentine came looking for it again? No thank you.

"This is too much money."

Eugene held the bag out to Valentine. The words "I'd be bought off for just one dollar, so please take back this terrifying amount" rose to the tip of his tongue. Who would want to suffer misfortune for taking mafia money?

"Didn't you say you liked money?"

Valentine asked, blinking those intensely blue, beautiful eyes. Eugene, who had been weak for blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin since childhood, was inwardly stunned by Valentine's appearance. If he continued facing this blonde beauty like this, he might nod his head even if Valentine smiled and asked for his life.

"I like money I've earned myself. Free things always come with strings attached."

Eugene politely but firmly replied, returning the money bag.

"I'm tired from drinking too much yesterday, so I should head home now."

Eugene carefully said after handing back the bag. Valentine then grabbed Eugene's wrist. Even though Eugene didn't have particularly thin wrists for a man, Valentine's hand completely encircled it.

"Then let's go have dinner now."

Valentine said, checking his wristwatch. The time was approaching dinner, or perhaps a bit early for it.

"What would you like to eat?"

Valentine asked. For the second time since meeting him today, Eugene thought: What is this man trying to do with me?

Everything that had happened today, excluding last night, made no sense. Perhaps because his tension had eased slightly, his eyes were getting heavy again, and fatigue from his hangover was beginning to weigh on his entire body. Now he just wanted to get home quickly and bury himself in bed.

"I'm not feeling well."

Eugene said, rubbing his upper stomach. He truly wasn't feeling well.

Hmm. Valentine exhaled softly. He held Eugene's wrist for a moment, staring at him, and finally nodded.

"Alright."

His "alright" surely meant that Eugene could go home. But he didn't release Eugene's wrist. Instead, he tightened his grip slightly.

"I'll take you home."

"What?"

Eugene asked before he could stop himself, then regretted it. Valentine called out lightly toward the back of the store, "Leo." Then Leo emerged from behind the colorful candy displays. He probably hadn't been crouching and hiding behind the displays all this time... There must be a hidden door or something back there.

Valentine pulled Eugene by the wrist. The seating arrangement in the car was the same as before. Leo opened the back door, Valentine pushed Eugene in and got in himself. Leo closed the back door, got into the driver's seat, and started the engine.