Gemotions

The clinking of ice in a crystal glass was the only sound in the elegant living room. Robert, impeccably dressed, leaned back in his leather armchair, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. He took a slow sip of his whiskey, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

The realtor had been less than forthcoming, alluding vaguely to some "criminal activity" that had occurred in the past. Robert hadn't pressed for specifics. He had been more interested in the investment opportunity, the prime location, and the potential for a high return. The house was his now.

He glanced at the news clipping on the side table. "Bank Robber Gunned Down by Police." A slow smile crept across his face. He felt like he had won.