44. Santiago #2
His brows rose in shock. “Excuse me?”
“I said, fuck you, asshole.”
Pushing away from the wall, I bumped him with my shoulder and walked back to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he snarled from behind me.
“Back to your stupid party to get hammered.”
I reached for the door, but before I could open it, he placed his hand on the glass, stopping me.
“Take another step, and I’ll call security on you.”
I glanced down at him, unbothered by the danger in his eyes.
“Be my fucking guest.” I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back the need to hurt him. “But I wonder what your fancy guests will think when shit hits the fan, ’cause I promise you, I’ll fucking kill whoever you send my way.”
His brows pulled tight, forming a sharp crease above his nose and making him seem pissed.
Not caring to please him for once, I pulled the door open and left.
Who knew? Maybe if I drank enough, my mind would finally have a break from him, and for a change, I’d stop giving a shit about him, just like he constantly did.
ARIYAN
After paying a short visit to the fourteenth floor to ensure nothing was out of order, I went back to supervise the party downstairs.
Standing on the restaurant’s porch, where I could overlook the pool area without being interrupted, I carefully scanned the scene.
The vibe was good, our guests were having fun, and as things began heating up, it was time to get to work.
“Number twenty-six,” I said into my earpiece, watching one of my men approach the bleached-hair girl wearing the badge with the number twenty-six on it.
“And thirty-five,” I added, eyes locked on the brunette girl in the bright blue skirt.
“And after her, collect number twelve and escort her out of here.”
The one who’d come up with this relatively simple method was Eduardo.
You hosted an exclusive party, invited the right type of men and women who had shown interest in us before, and had them each wear a numbered badge.
And while they were having fun down here, our clients were up there, on the fourteenth floor, watching them through a closed-circuit television.
If someone caught their eye, they’d go through a sweeping background check, be offered a deal, and only if found fit, they’d be invited to yet another party—a much more intimate one.
This was where I came into the picture, as the one executing these sick, twisted predators’ plans. Eduardo said that no one was a better fit for the job than a hooker like myself and that I should be grateful for the promotion, as they so rarely came in this line of work.
Be grateful, he’d said, a rotten smile on his chapped lips. Be grateful you’re not ending up in a ditch like your kind typically does.
Knowing I was contributing to this cycle made me sick with self-loathing, but somehow, I’d managed to fool myself into believing that after I was free of this hell, it would get better and that I’d do something good with my pathetic life.
You’ll die an ugly, lonely death, just like the rest of us.
“Aren’t you tired of doing all the dirty work?”
I glanced aside to see who spoke to me, unimpressed upon finding out, then looked back at the party.
“I wondered how long it would take you to come and bother me.”
Dion chuckled, like he often did, as he moved to stand at my side.
“And there I thought you’d be happy to see me, mon poussin.” He flashed me a big, toothy grin, another one of his many attributes.
Unlike me, this lunatic seemed to enjoy smiling, but I guess that was the outcome of losing your sanity after years in this business. Although, in his particular case, I doubted there was one to begin with. If you asked me, the man was born insane.
“Mon poussin?” I asked.
“My chicken.”
“Noted.”
“So, as we were saying, still doing their dirty work?”
He leaned a bit too close for my liking, yet I stayed focused on the party, hands crossed behind my back.
“What I do or do not do for my employer is none of your business, Mr. Bianchi.”
“Our sweet hotelier is as cold as always,” he chuckled, and I heard the sound of a lighter a second before the reek of cigarettes reached my nostrils. “I’m still waiting for the day you’ll come to work for me, you know.”
Amused by the premise of his offer, I finally turned to look at him.
Blessed with the rare privilege of looking young and charming despite this line of work, Dion smiled at me.
And while his smile was beautiful, same as the rest of him, it was nothing but a well-calculated mask, hiding the monster lurking within.
Therefore, I was never swayed by this smile, nor by his striking blue eyes, which gave the impression that he’d missed a few hours of sleep.
If I didn’t know better, I’d actually believe it, but knowing him for quite some time, I knew the French bastard never lost sleep, as he lacked the mere conscience to keep him up at night.
Deciding to play along for a change, I asked, “And why would I ever come and work for you?”
“Because I’ll make you into a king.”
“If I’m the king, what would that make you? God?”
“I’m already a god.”
“Grandiose complex much?”
He inhaled deeply, the cigarette glowing at the tip.
“Oh, honey.” He blew out the smoke. “I have so many complexes I’ve long since stopped counting.”
At least he doesn’t lack self-awareness.
“Back to your offer,” I said, eyes once again scanning the party. “I’d rather lose all of my limbs than live in a reality where you play God.”
“Be careful of what you wish for, sweetheart.”
He was always such a flirt, which was supposed to make me dislike him, and yet, I found his presence to be oddly amusing.
“I’ve met your boxer,” he said, probably hoping to achieve something.
“I know. I saw you two speak.”
“Did you?”
“I see everything,” I said, searching through the crowd.
“How scary.”
“Hardly.” I narrowed my eyes at Mr. Rivas’s younger brother, currently making a joke out of himself in front of his alleged girlfriend.
There I was, thinking that inviting her would help cut ties between the young pair as their connection seemed to trouble Santiago deeply.
Who knew it would come back to haunt me?
“So is this why you begged me to invite you here, so that you could recruit us both?” I asked, still watching the brother. While I easily tracked him down, the bigger one was still nowhere to be found.
“Maybe I just missed your pretty face?”
I turned to glare at him. “Please. As if you’d risk coming into enemy territory for such a reason.”
His grin turned into a pout. “Enemy?” He took a step closer, tracing the hem of my suit with his finger. “Here I thought we were quite close.”
I eyed him, one brow raised, until he cracked and burst out laughing.
“You sound like a hyena,” I hissed, averting my gaze when he leaned into my space.
“As sexy as you are, mon poussin, not even I’m willing to take the risk of defrosting your heart.” He poked my chest before going back to his cigarette.
“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re a coward.”
He laughed, saying something about how only a man with a death wish would chase me.
Do I mean anything to you?
Somehow, Mr. Rivas’s odd question hadn’t left my mind. Not wanting to linger on it, I returned my attention to the party, zooming in on a couple making out inside the pool.
“We would have never worked to begin with,” I said, not bothering to take my eyes off them.
“And why’s that?”
They were getting riskier with each second, basically trying to eat each other out with how they were kissing so passionately.
“To start with, you smoke.”
He tossed the cigarette over the balcony. “Done.”