Chapter 26 Cortez
Chapter twenty-six
Cortez
As I sit in my chair, fingers steepled against my office desk, I flashback to the events of eleven years ago.
“Caesar’s dead.”
I stagger backwards as I stare at the man whose face remains blank.
“W-What?”
“You heard me, man.” He releases a sigh. “In this game, no one is really untouchable.”
He straightens himself and walks towards me, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I know how much you liked working with him. You’ve been loyal to him. You can leave now if you want. Find another supplier.”
My breath shakes as I stare into nothing. This feels unreal. I know that no one is untouchable in this game, but I can’t accept that Caesar is dead. Not yet.
Clenching my fists, I look into his assistant’s eyes.
“Who?”
There’s a pause before he steps back, shaking his head. “The top bosses.”
Fuck.
“As well-known as Caesar was, he had people he answered to; you already know that, Cortez.”
The echo of his footsteps fades in my head. The only thing I see now is rage.
“Don’t think of doing anything stupid.” I barely hear his voice before he leaves the warehouse.
“Fuck!” I lunge a kick to the walls, anger seeping through every vein in my bones.
Yet again, life has taken something tangible from me—deemed me unworthy of the semblance of care I had. But this time I won’t let it go.
I turn to the last brick of cocaine that sits on the table. Caesar’s words ring in my ears.
“The game is the game, Cortez. Money first. If you ever have to choose between money and any emotions, choose money.”
He’d said it one time I voiced out about Damien.
“He’s backed by big people—the big bosses. The Mafia. You’ll start a war you can’t finish, Cortez. You don’t need that right now.”
“…You’re here for the money. Fuck Damien.”
Letting out a hiss, I grab the drugs, stash them in my jacket and head out. I’ve got to continue Ceasar’s legacy.
I cross the road and take a turn down the deserted street. So many thoughts crash into my mind as I clutch my jacket tighter. Caesar can’t die just like that; the people who killed him have to pay. Fuck his assistant.
When I reach the end of the street, I turn into an alleyway and lean against the wall, breathing heavily. I will take revenge.
Slipping my phone from my pocket, I dial a number.
“What’s up, bro?” the voice greets on the other end.
“I’ve got dope. You interested?”
“Sure, man. Same location?”
“Yes.”
I end the call, driving a fist into the wall. My fingers tremble not from pain but the blood boiling in my veins. They’ll pay, I swear. Big bosses or not.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. Fisting the stash in my hand, I lean upright. Then Damien’s smug face comes into view, forcing a sharp exhale through my nose.
“Well, look who’s here?”
“Damien,” I grit.
He flashes a smile and dips his hands into his pockets, standing with the same air of arrogance.
“It’s been what? A week? Two?” he starts in his usual taunting manner. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Smacking my lips, I throw my head to the side. “Not now, Damien.”
He scoffs, then shoves my chest with a hand. I don’t budge.
“This is my turf. You can’t do business here without my permission.”
It’s my turn to scoff. “This is an abandoned truck way. I’ve been doing business here for years.”
He takes a step towards me, trying to be intimidating. I bark out a laugh.
“Leave, Damien. I’m not in the mood.”
He stares at me like I’ve grown two heads, then laughs. “You’re growing wings big guy. Muscles and years don’t equal power. You and I both know who holds the power here.”
Before I think, he snatches the stash out of my hand and pulls it to his nose, sniffing heavily.
“Good stuff. I’m going to hold on to this for a while.”
I swiftly pull out my gun and aim it at his head. “Drop the goddamn stash.”
He barks out laughter, his body shaking as he hunches over. “Ohh, you did grow wings.” He straightens himself to shoot me a steely gaze. “Put the fucking gun down.”
Cocking the gun, I grit, “I said drop the stash.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You’re still a junior drug dealer. All of you are! I’m the king! And you will listen to me!”
Saliva spills out of his lips as he spits the word angrily. Power. You let it drive you, and you become a fucking asshole like this guy.
I snatch the stash out of his hand, and he hisses.
“You’re nothing without the power backing you, Damien,” I sneer. “Nothing but a low-level drug dea—”
“Mama!” The voice stops me in my tracks, and I turn my head to the source. A little girl is crossing from the other side towards us.
What is she doing here?
“Mama!” she yells again into the silence. Then, in a split second, Damien grabs her, curving his elbow tightly around her neck.
I hiss. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
He pulls out a gun and points it at her neck. The girl’s eyes widen, and tears start to stream down her face.
“I want my mommy,” she manages to say while crying.
“How old are you, kid?!” He presses down on her jaw hard. My body shakes in anger.
“S-Six,” she cries.
“Good,” he says, turning to me, “I’ll count to six, you’ll lower your fucking weapon and drop the stash.”
“Don’t,” I order.
He grins. “One.”
My fingers twitch against the trigger. His grin is like a razor slicing through my guts.
“Two.”
I’ll fucking kill him. The girl’s cry pierces the air again, and I stare into her terrified eyes. Tears mix with snot, dripping down her face.
“Three.”
My gun clatters to the ground. The stash follows.
He laughs again, pointing the gun at my head. “Now walk away.”
My breath hitches, and I hesitate, but the girl’s tiny whimpers force my feet to move. I walk briskly until I reach the other end of the road. The rest happens so fast.
I see an oncoming truck speeding and hear the girl’s terrified scream. I turn sharply and see her freeze in the middle of the road.
“Run!” I yell when the truck rams her over. Her body folds, and the next thing I see is blood and her flesh spread across the asphalt.
Something in me snaps. I barely feel myself moving. I barely even see anything. The next thing I know, I’m pointing a gun at Damien’s scared face, unloading my clip into his chest. Again and again and again. Until the storm inside me dulls to an aching gap.
When his body falls limp to the ground, I take one last glance at the girl—whatever is left of her—regret and pain wracking through my body before I bolt.
I unlatch my fingers, one hand stroking my chin as I now think about the incident in retrospect.
After that fateful day, I fled town for a while.
I heard they were looking for me. The big bosses; Damien’s brother, Nero.
But I kept a low profile in a remote village for a few months before Elio found me.
Even then, while working with Elio, Damien’s mafia was still lurking, waiting for a moment to strike. Then, years later, I heard their mafia had crashed. Apparently, there was an attack that even those big bosses couldn’t withstand. That was how I got them off my back for good.
“Boss,” Alej calls.
I turn to him, the ache in my chest from remembering that day restricting my airflow. I killed the girl. My curse of negativity befell her.
Maybe if I’d dropped the gun sooner…
But Alej continues, bringing my thoughts back to the current moment, “The South American mafia is clean. They’re into human trafficking. It has nothing to do with the undercutting.”
“What are we looking at now?”
“Mr. Hendrix,” he answers. “We’re still trying to match the descriptions the kids gave.”
When we waited, the sharp-mouthed girl described Hendrix, but he didn’t show up. He’d most likely noticed that we were there and seen our car.
“…It’s shallow,” Alej continues. “We’ve tried this before, and we’ve never found the men. It’s like they don’t exist.”
After leaving the children, we went to Los Hierros. They’d hit the club and the casino. They were already retreating when we got there, but we managed to kill some of them. I grind my teeth. They may have been a worthy opponent for Vasquez, but not for me.
We will find them, every last one of them, and kill them.
“Our profits are plunging, Alej. Quali sono gli aggiornamenti sugli altri nostri magazzini (What’s the update on our other warehouses)?”
“It’s not looking good, Capo. Buyers we thought were loyal are now getting tentative. We’re doing all we can to convince them.”
I let out a deep breath. Reform is hell bent on taking me down, but at what cost?
“They definitely want to prove something,” I mutter to Alej.
He nods. “I agree, but the question remains, what?”
“Only one thing can make anyone go to such lengths: Power. They want to attain a level of power that’d shock the world.”
But it still doesn’t make sense. My jaw clenches. Suddenly, the telephone rings, and I pick it up angrily.
“What?”
“Boss, there’s a package for you,” one of the guards says.
My brows furrow. “I’m not expecting anything.”
The guard hesitates. “The boy is refusing to leave. He says he must deliver it personally to you.”
Boy?
Slamming the telephone back in place, I rise up, heading for the door. Alej follows without question.
I reach outside and see a scrawny boy. He has brown hair and his eyes widen in fear at the sight of me.
When I reach him, he bows shakily and presents a small black box. I eye him.
“A-A man asked me to give you this. He said he’ll kill me if I don’t present it to you myself.”
My fist clenches, already figuring the sender is related to Reform. “What’s in it?”
“I-I don’t know.” His lips quiver.
I glance at Alej, and he nods at me.
Alej steps forward. “Open it.”
My eyes narrow on the boy as I walk back a safe distance. He hesitates, then winces when Alej points a gun at his head.
“Open the fucking box,” Alej growls. My heart starts to beat rapidly.
The boy’s hands shake as he clasps an edge and lifts it. Slowly, he raises the top layer, and his eyes widen fearfully as he brings out a letter…written in blood.