Gangster In A Suit. (Book 1)

Chapter 9

Consciousness leaks in like water dripping from a faucet. One drop at a time.

I lift my head that weighs a megaton. My hand probes the ground—cold, smooth stone. I unglue my eyelids, nothing but a black haze around me. My memories flood back and alarm shocks me upright, my sight clearing. I shuffle back until my back hits the wall, swiping grimy locks away from my face.

I'm in a cell. A dungeon-like cell.

I take in my surroundings, the stone chamber shrouded by the impenetrable gloom that's so thick and suffocating. It's like someone dropped me into some depthless pit. I narrow my eyes at the line of rusty steel bars. Something about the cell itself feels old like dark ages period. I shake my head, nausea slowly draining away like a receding tide.

What happened to my mom? Calum? Are they safe? Were they captured, too?

Can't be. I'm the one they want.

.... I'm the one they want.

Does this mean Gaza has me? I think back, grasping at the pieces of my conversation with the driver to complete the puzzle. He said he works for Aztech. Zenith. And that I'm not to be harmed. They want something from me.

My chest heaves, compressed by an unbearable heft. I have to get out of here.

How and where? I'm trapped in a four-by-four dungeon with not a speck of hope that salvation lies beyond.

My mind plunges deep into the worst-case scenario... torture... death. But none frightens me more than my family's safety or lack thereof. That whatever happens, I was the one that put them in harm's way. My mother and Calum are all I have in this world, all that I love. My hand lifts, fisting the crucifix that hangs from my neck. If something happened to them, it would destroy me.

Time lags by. My brain stewing in torment, playing a thousand different alternate realities of what just happened and what will happen. All because of a choice I made—a distant clamour strikes my chain of thought. I sit up straight against the wall. The noise repeats, followed by a shriek of metal. My heart rate goes into a full gallop. A rasping clatter grows, echoing off the ancient walls. A spot of light emerges like a pinprick of light at the end of a tunnel. It expands like dawn breaking forth over the night, with the thudding sound of footsteps walking towards me at an unhurried speed, a gait that speaks of importance.

A masculine figure stands before the cell's maw.

"Miss Moor... we meet again," he says with a casual cadence, his voice imbued with natural charm. An accent so refined.

I recognise that voice.

He steps closer, revealing his face with a smile. "I apologise for the crude reunion. But there was no other way to safely intercept you."

I inhale a breath, grappling for my calm. "So, is this what the COO of Zenith does in his free time?" I incline my head, resting the back against the cold stone. "Drug and kidnap women?"

"Only the problematic ones," he says with emphasis, hinting to our last conversation. "Especially the one with a million-dollar bounty on her pretty head."

Million! Damn, Gaza really wants his book back.

My eyes dart to his hands. He's holding something. 

Curious, Torin glances down and feigns surprise, lifting the folder in the air, then fluttering it. "Oh, this?" He opens it and sifts through thoughtfully. "Yes, this is all the information I have on a Hadassah Moor."

My head tilts to one side. "You have a file on me?"

He smiles, his teeth luminous. "I have a file on everyone." His finger trails down the records. "And yours is riveting. You truly clawed your way out of the gutter. A snitch, turned informant, turned PI. A story of a determined black girl, desperate to see herself on top."

Anger springs to life within me, heating my blood. "Desperate?"

"I can admire someone that won't put a ceiling on their ambitions. I can relate." He closes the file, fixing his gaze on me with a stern look. "But not someone who would put themselves in this kind of perilous situation. Very much... careless. Idiotic even."

I avert my gaze. "See, that's a problem with a file. It doesn't tell you the why or how. Like how a kid worked the streets, built a network of informal informants that only trusted her. An asset to law enforcement agencies because she knows people who knew bigger people."

Torin nods slowly. "That's how you gained success," he states it as a fact. "The Bratva case three years ago, where they seized a hundred million worth in firearms and drugs. You won a commission of ten percent of that entire bust. Quite the career-launcher."

Irritation quickens my blood. "I never won anything. I worked for it. And unlike corporate criminals like yourself, I don't do it for the money."

"How presumptuous of you to assume that is my motive." He slants forward inquisitively. "Why do you do what you do?"

I release an aggravated breath. Using the wall, I slide up to stand on my feet, semi-unstable. "Why do you do what you do?" I throw back. "You're not the only with files on people of interest."

Torin straightens. "I'm sure not as extensive."

"Let's see," I say, as if accepting a challenge. "Torin Moon, who has an IV league education, receiving his master of business administration degree at Oxford. After exploring your own business mishaps, you joined forces with big bro to dominate the corporate realm. A surplus of unaccounted capital to build an empire on the bones of innocent people. Neutralising witnesses that go against Zenith, evidence magically disappearing. With whispers of ties to drug lords, kingpins and ringleaders." A smile tugs at my lips. "Did I miss anything?"

He remains silent like he's deliberating on something. "I may have." He raises the folder again. "You know what else fascinated me about your file? Your psych profile." Spite poisons his tone. "Who knew the legendary investigator was as gifted as she is special. The condition has a name...what was it again? Hyperthymesia." He lets out a wry laugh. "That must be a bitch if you've gone through trauma."

Buried memories try to unearth themselves. I draw in a long breath.

"Are there any other mental disorders I should know of?"

"Why am I here?" I try to suppress my surprise when I feel my phone is still in my back pocket. "Do you plan to hand deliver me to Gaza himself and collect the reward?"

He explodes into a short laugh. "Do you really think we need or want his money?" He scoffs at the thought. "I make more in an hour than he makes in a month."

I fake a loud yawn. "If you're done dick measuring, I'd like to know why I've been kidnapped!"

He opens his mouth but a clangourous clatter causes his lips to thin into silence.

"Who's that?"

Torin tosses a glance over his shoulder. "Remember when I told you I was the beta of Zenith?"

"As you know. I remember everything."

A Herculine silhouette thaws from the shadows, standing before the teeth of the cell.

Torin gestures to him. "Now you get to meet the Alpha."