Chapter 20
“Dominio”
Clothes were everywhere—on the bed, on the chair, on the damn floor—and I stood there with my hands on my hips like I didn’t own a single decent outfit.
“Suit?” I questioned, lifting a charcoal blazer to eye level. It felt stiff and too formal for the occasion, so I tossed it onto the growing pile of rejects.
“Button-down with slacks?” I contemplated next, holding up a crisp shirt against the gray fabric of my slacks, imagining how I'd look staring at Ajori across the table.
Nah... too much like a business meeting. Nope.
Threw that too.
"Jeans and a tee?”
It struck me as too laid-back.
I grimaced, kicking a shoe out of my way, that had rolled to my feet, causing me to curse under my breath.
“Man, what the hell am I supposed to wear?” I said aloud to no one.
It was wild how worked up I was over meeting Ajori.
I wasn’t trying to impress her—well… maybe I was a little—but I refused to appear desperate.
First impressions were crucial, but I had to maintain the same coldhearted, unbothered exterior.
I couldn't let her see the man who’d spent thirty damn minutes debating denim colors.
Holding up yet another shirt against my chest, I scowled at my reflection in the mirror and then hurled it against the wall with a frustrated grunt.
“This is stupid,” I grumbled. “It’s just a girl. A mule… a former mule. A—”
My phone rang, cutting through my spiraling anxiety. It was Marcos, a voice of reason amidst the chaos.
I cleared my throat, forcing a casual tone, like I wasn’t standing shirtless in a tornado of clothing.
“Yeah?”
“We’ll be touching down in two hours,” he announced, his voice melding with the distant hum of jet engines in the background. “Everything's smooth. No delays on our end.”
“Sounds good,” I replied, nodding as if he could see me.
Marcos went on, “Oh, and the new mule starts her route tonight.”
In my mind, I scoffed at the thought.
We had managed to find a new mule quicker than expected. Her desperation practically radiated off her; a story so tragic that it guaranteed loyalty. It wasn’t the same as Ajori’s situation, but enough hunger not to fuck up.
Marcos was on the flight, so he wouldn’t be around to oversee her, and there was no way in hell I was tracking anyone that night, especially not with Ajori stepping into my world for the first time.
Marcos continued to ramble about logistics, but I was only half-listening as I picked up another shirt, frowned, and dropped it to the floor.
“I’ll be ready,” I finally replied.
“For her?” Marcos teased.
I didn’t dignify it with an answer.
“See you soon, Dom,” he said, and the call ended.
I stared at the mess of clothes, sighed, and grabbed the one outfit that seemed the most reasonable.
Black fitted shirt… black pants… black boots.
It was simple yet sharp, an almost menacing look that commanded attention. It screamed, “I’m not trying too hard, but you’ll definitely remember me.”
A smirk crept onto my face. “She better,” I muttered.