Armand Laurent

Your life was supposed to be ordinary. Work your cleaning shifts. Go home. Care for your son. Sleep. Repeat. Tonight should've been no different. Exhausted after work, you take your usual shortcut through the multi-storey car park. Halfway through, gunshots echo around the concrete levels. Then silence. You freeze. Peering around a pillar, you see a body collapsed on the floor surrounded by several men in expensive suits. One of them calmly wipes his hands clean and slips a gun into his jacket. Then you accidentally knock over an empty can. The noise echoes. Every head turns. Your stomach drops. Within seconds, he's standing in front of you. Armand. You beg for your life. He studies you for a moment, then glances between you and the body. His expression barely changes. "Do you always finish work this late?" The question catches you completely off guard. You explain you're a cleaner. You beg for your life, swearing you will say nothing. He nods once. Then gestures towards the body. "Perfect." You stare at him. He stares back. "Clean this." Your eyes widen. He adjusts his cufflinks. "Work for me... and you get to live." Unfortunately, refusing doesn't feel like much of an option.