38. Ariyan
ARIYAN
Standing in the middle of the small garage, I cleaned my suppressed gun before glancing back at the lifeless body of the man I’d just shot.
He had been one of Eduardo’s drug distributors until he stopped paying on time, and now, well, now he was dead.
Although, if not for the small bullet hole in his forehead, one would think he was taking a nap.
Death is just like falling asleep.
That was what they say, no? Only it couldn’t be further from the truth.
With all of this man’s systems down, his body had already begun its decomposition process.
First, he’d go cold and stiff, then would come the smell, followed by the maggots and worms, and a week from now, it would be nasty.
The only beauty in dying was the lack of life, but death itself was ugly.
Grotesque.
Pulling out my phone, I hit the call button. It rang three times before he picked up.
“Is this Santa calling?” he asked, and I could hear a child’s giggle in the background.
Holding the phone up, and with my eyes still on the body, I said, “It’s done.”
“Were there any problems, Santa?”
“No.”
“What about the presents?”
He was referring to the money I was sent to collect. Glancing down, I eyed the bag full of cash I’d taken prior to shooting the man.
“Secured.”
“You see, sweet pea? I told you Santa had more presents for you.”
I bit down on my tongue, waiting for this sick joke to end.
“Now, then, sweet pea, we have to tell Santa good night so that he can get to all the other little kids out there.”
The phone then shifted, and I could hear a little girl saying, “Good night, Santa, and Merry Christmas,” before the call ended.
Unfamiliar coldness washed over me, and still holding the phone to my ear, I tightened my grip.
“Merry Christmas,” I whispered back to the dead line.
I stood there for a few more seconds before lowering the phone. But as I tucked it into my pocket, I felt something else in there. Fisting my hand around the small keychain, I took it out and stared at it.
What a stupid gift.
I said I’d throw it away, but after picking it up from the office floor, I’d somehow slipped it into my pocket and forgotten it was there until now.
Staring at it, the same annoyance gripped me as when that idiot first gave me this silly fox.
Why on earth would he say it reminded him of me?
And why would he look so charmed as he handed me this cheap crap?
The wide smile he had on… it was as if he’d won the lottery, while all he did was give me something that cost no more than five bucks.
And yet, I could still hear him telling me “Merry Christmas” in that deep voice of his.
My stomach flipped, and I clenched the keychain in my fist. The urge to toss it was like no other, but knowing better than to leave evidence behind, I shoved it back inside my pocket.
I’ll get rid of it later.
Ready to leave, I grabbed the bag of money from the floor when I heard a rustle.
I turned around, noticing a closet in the corner of the garage.
Dropping the bag, I calmly walked over there and snapped the closet doors open to find a woman hiding there, curled into herself like the most scared little thing as she muttered prayers.
“Please,” she cried, holding her hands before her in a plea. “I swear, I won’t say a thing. P-please.”
I wish I could say it affected me, I truly did, but…
It didn’t.
What did it say about me that I couldn’t care less for a person begging for their life? Probably that I was a monster.
But I already know that.
Without hesitation, I shot her, and her body fell forward, her head dropping an inch from my shoe.
Luckily, her blood didn’t leave any stains on my clothes.
She most likely didn’t deserve to die, and even if she did, it shouldn’t have been at my hands.
Still, I couldn’t afford loose ends. Not when I was this close to being free.
With a sigh, I looked around. To think I now had two bodies to take care of… What a hassle. The undertaker expected only one, so he’d charge me double if not triple. But then again, this line of work was all about adapting to the unexpected, and therefore, I shouldn’t waste my time complaining.
SANTIAGO
Tonight’s fight was an easy win, just as I knew it would be.
And while it wasn’t the same to fight without having Ariyan watching, the thought of telling him about the win was enough to keep me going.
True to my word, I packed my things and got out of there the second the fight ended.
Now back inside the elevator, I leaned against the wall as I waited for it to reach the ground floor.
Same as the first time I rode it, I thought it was tacky as fuck, not to mention the horrible music that played as it went up.
But this whole place reeked of bad taste, unlike our hotel, which was classy all the way.
Yeah, my silver Zorrito sure had good taste.
Fuck, just thinking about all those white roses he used to decorate the hotel for Christmas was sick, and the same went for those huge-ass trees he’d gotten.
But that was Ariyan for you, a posh prince, classic from head to toe.
Reaching the ground floor, the elevator stopped before the doors opened, and I walked out into the travel agency decoy, which still made me laugh every time I came here.
I pulled out my phone and was about to text Ariyan when someone called my name, and I looked up from the screen. Before me stood a man with a mustache and a stuck-up smile, who seemed way too happy to see me.
“Do I know you?” I asked while studying him with narrowed eyes.
“No… but I know you,” he said, walking toward me with an outstretched hand. “The name is Sinclair.”
Not about to shake his hand, I kept glaring at him.
Getting the message, Sindouchebag withdrew his hand, brushing it over his tie as he did.
“I’m the bookkeeper of this establishment.”
Still not giving a fuck, I continued to stare at him.
“It’s been a pleasure watching you fight tonight, and the same goes for all your previous fights. I must say, you’re quite the talented fighter, El Embriagado.”
The dude’s ugly mustache wiggled whenever he opened his mouth to speak, and it bugged the fuck out of me. Actually, it reminded me of a caterpillar.
“And speaking of good fights, you must want to collect your money for tonight’s win.” He flashed me a big smile. “If you follow me to my office, the money is there.”
Ha. Ain’t no fucking way.
“I’ll get the money another time,” I said and started walking when he spoke.
“Are you sure? Ariyan told me himself that you’re trustworthy and that I could count on you to deliver him back his share of the money.”
The mention of Ariyan’s name made me stop, and I huffed.
“You’re lying.”
“Pardon?”
I turned to glance at him. “Ain’t no fucking way that bastard said a good word about me.”
His brows pulled together, but a moment later, he finally dropped the act as an ugly grin took over his lips.
“You caught me.”
Sinclair glanced at the girl sitting at the front desk. Getting the memo, she got up and left for the back room, leaving us alone.
“The truth is—” He stepped closer. “—my employer has got his eyes set on you.”
“Not interested,” I said without batting an eye.
“Are you sure? You haven’t even heard what he has to offer.”
“Yeah…” I scratched my jaw. “Can’t care less about your boss.”
“Aren’t you at least curious to know who he is?”
“Nah.”
“Either way, I’m sure you’ve heard of him before.”
“Probably not.”
“The name is Dion Bianchi.”
I yawned while picking wax out of my ear with my pinkie. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
A deep crease formed between his brows.
“Perhaps you know him by his nickname, then. The Frenchman?”
Shrugging, I watched as the smile slowly slipped off his lips.
“Well,” he scoffed, smoothing two fingers over his mustache. “Ariyan must have found you hiding under a rock if you’ve never heard that name before.”
I was beginning to lose my fucking patience.
“Listen, I don’t give a shit about your boss Dior—”
“Dion.”
My jaw twitched. “The fuck you want, huh?”
“We want to offer you a deal.”
This persistent motherfucker.
“How many times do I need to say I’m not fucking interested?”
Holding his stance, he didn’t budge and instead got even closer. “My employer is a very, very rich man. So, why don’t you go home—” He placed something in my hand. “—and think about it?”
Looking down, I saw it was a stack of cash. There was easily ten grand there. But having this prick slip me money like it was candy made me fucking pissed, so I tossed it back at him.
“I don’t need your fucking money,” I hissed, then turned around and began walking toward the door.
“Are you sure? That one hundred grand we paid you for your first fight is chump change compared to what we’re willing to offer now.”
As if I were electrified, I stopped on the spot.
One hundred grand?
Half turning around, I stared at him.
“The fuck’re you on about?”
“I’m talking about the one hundred thousand dollars Ariyan got for your first fight here. From the looks of it, you didn’t see half of it, did you?”
It felt like a boulder was dropped on top of my head, and the only thing worse than the initial shock was the anger that followed.
In seconds, my muscles stiffened, and I grew hotter with this new piece of information.
Still, I wasn’t about to stay here and be talked to like a fool.
Instead, I turned back around and stormed out of there with the need to find him and get some answers to the questions beating inside me like a second heart.
ARIYAN
Years of working for Eduardo Flores had taught me the importance of leaving no traces behind. I’d become skilled at this, a true professional, which was why he called me whenever some cleaning was due. Tonight was no exception, and after my job was done, I went on as if nothing ever happened.