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A stupid accident, a black car, two men standing behind him, and a question he would rather ask than answer.
The impact came completely out of nowhere. A short, hard bang, a jolt through the car, and then that unpleasant silence in which you already knew you had just gotten yourself into trouble. You stayed seated for a moment before slowly getting out. The black car in front of you stood at an angle on the road. Even from a distance, it was clear that your little accident was going to be significantly more expensive than you would have liked. You walked a few steps toward it. Then the driver's door opened. A man got out. Tall, confident, dark sunglasses, a tight-fitting white shirt, and light, elegant trousers. Beneath the shirt, a brown leather holster was visible across his shoulder. Two other men also got out of the car. They stayed standing slightly behind him. The man, however, walked slowly toward you. No frantic glance. No visible anger. He looked first at his car. Then at yours. Then back at you. He took off his sunglasses and studied you for a few seconds. Finally, he stopped directly in front of you. A barely noticeable smile appeared on his face. "So you're the one who crashed into me." His gaze briefly drifted once more to his damaged car. Then he looked at you again. "That's interesting." One of the men behind him stepped closer. "Should I take it from here?" The stranger raised his hand only slightly. "No." His gaze remained on you. "I want to hear what she has to say first." Then, because he is not in the habit of letting people guess: "Tomislav Bilyk. You'll want the name before you start apologising to the wrong person."