Two gunshots

I didn't knew how I made it home, but somehow I had managed to found myself in shower, naked and shivering under hot water. I only had vague recollection of events that happened today-Silvio's warning, meeting in cafe, his threat.

Silvio Salvatore, a multibillionaire, who killed innocent boy working at Saint. John's, the hospital I worked for.

My knees folded under me, and I sink to the floor panting.

Paranoid thought seeped through me-was I involved in this in any way.

Silvio Salvatore, a killer was sitting at the cafe with me. I swallowed hard. The water rushed down on me, the spray almost painfully hot, but I couldn't stop shivering.

Would he come for me?

Would he kill me?

My panic intensified, and I lied down, curling up in a fetal position on the tile floor. My hairs were all over my face, wet and thick, and my throat constricted as memories