1 I GOT KILLED BY MY OWN FATHER!

★★★★★

"Fuck... It's my freaking birthday!"

Martin shouted with a glass of wine in his hand, encouraging the people in his private club.

"Chill on the drinks dude. The last time you got drunk, I found you in the middle of an alley way crying and clutching your ass." His friend said beside him as he pulled him to the seat

"F**k you, I said it caught fire nothing else." Martin downed another glass of wine laughing wildly.

He was twenty and he was going to be the sole owner of his grandfather's wealth the next morning.

Nothing could possibly ruin this day.

Music blasted around at a volume that was hazardous to the health of a normal person, and a myriad of colors that would make an epileptic person lose control flooded the entire place. People dressed in clothes that left very little to the imagination were streaming about the entire place, but the weird thing was that all this was normal; after all, it was a nightclub and it was privately owned by Martin Elton, the grandson of the richest man in the world.

Guys and men were all dressed in expensive wears and that was perfect for this particular situation, while the ladies were mostly dressed in revealing clothes that made their features rather profound. Only a few ladies thought it was best to dress in something more proper.

Like every regular party celebration, everyone had a partner, no matter the gender, taking it to a whole new level as they kept stuffing each other's faces in a dimly lit corner of the club.

Sitting in the VIP section were several people. Some were either drinking alone, while some were flirting or trying to make out with a girl, and others were having idle chats with old friends. Amongst the group that was chatting with their friends was a pair of youngsters.

Two young men not a year above twenty with features that were unclear due to the flickering multicolored light of the clubhouse. But one thing was certain; they both had a height that was almost six feet and an inch, and they both had bottles and glasses of champagne in front of them, which they sipped at regular intervals.

"Hey Martin, don't drink more than you can handle; last time I had to take you home, and although your old man didn't say anything, I had felt that he wasn't too pleased," Trip said to the birthday boy who was in the middle of pouring some wine into his glass after which he brought the bottle to the marble table with a click.

"Don't worry, last time was an accident, and I can assure you that you were just overthinking things; my father rarely cares about such trivial matters…" Martin replied as he brought out a napkin from his pocket and dabbed it at the corner of his lips like a true gentleman, which was a total contrast to the way he had handled the bottle of Domaine Romanee-Conti just some moments ago.

"…Moreover, it's my birthday. I got to have some fun!"

He flung the napkin in the direction of a lady with a red bikini and a transparent silk clothing that covered her whole body but failed to hide the real price. Her boobs were practically spilling out of the bikini she wore.

The lady instinctively reached out and caught it while sending him a wink.

"I'm quite envious of you, Martin. I wish my father was as lax as yours," Trip, the one who had previously spoken, replied with a chuckle, and Martin laughed.

"Sometimes a blessing in the open might be a curse in the shadows," Martin said as he drank all that was left in his glass and stomped the glass on the bar table while his eyes searched for the lady in red.

"You sure you're okay, man?" Trip asked in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Martin said with a wave of his right hand as he got off the stool he was sitting on and instantly stumbled forward as he took a misstep.

"You don't look fine to me. Where are you headed?" Trip asked after gulping the last of his drink and standing up with the intent to aid his friend, but Martin brushed him off.

"I'll be fine, I'm not drunk, just a little tipsy, and I'm headed to the restroom," Martin chuckled with a wink.

"Oh, I see… good luck," Trip raised his glass as a way of sending him off.

A minute passed, and Martin found himself in the washroom later on, his fingers fiddling with a necklace worn around his neck. It was a strange locket, but he cherished it.

It was his grandfather's parting gift to him a year ago, and he had never taken it off since then. It had strange intricate designs that looked very ancient; it didn't resemble any of the jewelries he had ever seen displayed. It was one of a kind, and maybe that was why he loved it so much.

"I wonder where that red chick went," he said, zipping up his trousers while making his way to the washbasin.

He washed his hands after which he splashed some water on his face and looked at his own reflection in the mirror. His milky white skin was delicate and without blemish, a skin that would make even ladies become envious, a skin that instantly identified him as a millionaire playboy, his blue iris seemed to hold the midday sky within it, blonde hair had the shade of newly harvested wheat, a chiseled and smooth jawline gave him a masculine charm, and a pointed nose settled on his handsome face.

While looking at his own reflection, he suddenly saw another reflection beside his, on a normal day he wouldn't have bothered, but the person was a lady and the lady he had been searching for. She had probably walked in when he was too busy washing his face to notice.

Putting up a cool smile, he turned around to face the lady while the corner of his lips came up taking the form of a confident smirk.

"Young miss, I didn't think you would come for me here. Did you want me that bad? This is not the right place for a lady like yourself." His eyes immediately ran through the outline of her figure. She was definitely his type

The lady gave an equally charming smile that could steal the hearts of several men; she walked closer to him till the gap between them was almost nonexistent. With a flirting gaze, she raised her right hand and began tracing an imaginary line from Martin's cheek down to his jaw and to his chest which was bare due to some undone buttons.

"Young master, I'm not in the wrong place because where you are is exactly where I need to be." She said with a seductive tone that made Martin's heart beat wildly, and he almost lost his rationality to his primal instinct which wanted him to take her right there and then.

"Young miss, you sure jest a lot, but I'm curious. Out of everyone out there, why did you pick me?" Martin asked with a wide grin. He could almost feel her hips in his hands. This was going to be the best birthday yet.

The young lady smiled, she brushed a lock of her fiery red hair and tucked it behind her ear. She looked down at her feet like a little schoolgirl about to be scolded for something wrong.

Seeing her feigned innocence, Martin could feel a heat down below. He really liked her style. Red hair, red bag, red heels. Feisty yet innocent looking.

"I need something only you can give me," she said after fidgeting for a few seconds.

"And what does this gorgeous beauty need from me?" Martin asked as he placed his right hand on her left cheek, and he could have sworn he saw her pale face turn pink.

"I need your life," she said meekly, and Martin was stunned silly for more than a few seconds before he burst into laughter.

"You're quite a joker, aren't you, sweetheart? To be honest, I think I'm quite fond of you." Martin said after a few seconds of laughing, but suddenly he turned silent. He looked at her and suddenly he felt a chill down his spine. She can't be serious, he thought in his head.

"What do y..." His eyes widened in disbelief and fear as his left hands moved instinctively to clutch the locket he had on his neck. The words he was about to say vanished into thin air as he felt his knees go weak and had to lean on the washbasin to avoid falling down. His eyes were fixated on what she held.

In her hand was a 9mm caliber pistol with a silencer mounted on top, and the nozzle was pointed directly at his forehead.

"Please don't do this. Who sent you? I promise I'll pay you double of the amount you were paid, no triple instead," Martin said with a trembling voice as he watched his life flashing before his eyes.

Damn it, he should have really gone for those self-defense classes that Trip had suggested to him. Now he was going to die a miserable death without even putting up a fight.

"You see, there is no point saying anything again; the person who sent me is not someone you'd like to know, as the old saying goes ignorance is bliss.

Secondly, you can't ever hope to pay me more than the amount I was paid to get rid of you." Her smile was rather sinister and cruel.

"But you see, I think you are charming… so just to let you die without grievances, I'll let you know the name of your killer," she added.

Martin was about to say something, but before he even had the chance, she continued. "When your father comes to join you in hell, you can ask him what you did that warranted your death."

She said, and instantly the tendons in her index finger retracted, causing the finger to tug on the trigger.

A whizzing sound was heard as the bullet moved through the air, and then it was followed by a thud.

'My father?' That was the last thought that ran through his mind before it all disappeared into nothingness.