Chupacabra | 18+ | ✔️

▪︎■ 12 ■▪︎

▪︎■ Adrin Bianchi ■▪︎

▪︎■ One day earlier... ■▪︎

The whole club, where I would meet the russian, reeked of money, sex and crimes. I walked around a corner and recognized the man immediately. He was in the corner, alone, downing a drink. I took the seat in front of him and greeted him shortly.

"Bianchi. My friend will be here any minute... What can I do for you in the meantime?"

"I need you to contact another friend for me. I need to talk to him due to some... obstacles."

He eyed me suspiciously. "And that would be?"

"Iwanow."

He groaned, shifting in his seat while looking through the room and back to me.

"Friend is a strong word. We're not really on good terms right now."

I leaned forward to underline the emphasis of my visit. "I don't care. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent and I would like to remind you, that I have a favor to return from you."

The man sighed. "I guess you won't let this slide... I will get you your meeting."

I gave a lopsided smiled. "I'm really glad you want to come to good terms with Iwanow again."

I grabbed a fresh drink that one of the waitresses brought him and took a gulp. I knew he didn't like my doing but what other thing could he do, other than quietly glare at me.

"You know, risking getting killed by Iwanow and bringing my friend to answer your questions is a really graceful repayment for one favor."

I chuckled and let the glass slide in little circles around itself on the surface of the table, while I held it loosely in my hand.
"Think of it as some kind of interest over all these years. We're even now."

"I hope so, Bianchi."

A presence became noticable. I turned my head to the man that approached our table.

"Privet, Mikail," the russian man greeted. (hello)

The brown-haired guy grinned since the moment he saw us. He looked different from the picture I imagined in my head when I heard him speak to Ms. Moreno over the phone. He was definitely younger than I expected.

"Kak dela?" he asked in return.
(how are you?)

The man who was seated in front of me grinned and gestured towards me.

"Khorosho, no on stanet moyey smert'yu." (Good, but he will be the death of me)

They both let out a short laugh followed by an annoyed groan from me. Mikail sat down beside my guest.

"Hello Mr. Bianchi. What have I done to deserve this absolutely not ill-timed appointment with a mafia boss like you?"

"I have some questions about Iwanow and Ms. Moreno."

"Oh, they were never a thing. I mean, he could at least be her father for all I know..." he answered, grossed out by the idea.