▪︎■ Ainara Moreno ■▪︎
When the meeting finally ended, I went into the bathroom to wash my hands, dirty from a few bloodstains. The water was cold against my skin and I watched myself inside the big mirror when the door opened and Mr. Bianchi entered. As soon as he saw me, his gaze switched.
"What the fuck was that?" He sounded angry.
"This is the woman's restroom, Mr. Bianchi," I remarked.
"I'm not in the mood for your smart mouth."
"Excuse you? If you're pissed about the hole in the wall, I'll pay for-" He interrupted me.
"I don't give a fuck about the wall! You-..."
Did he just stutter? Yeah, he did. Not sure if out of rage or loss of words, but who cares...
"You don't fucking talk to my men like you have a saying!"
I dried my hands with the towel and watched him through the mirror. Now I was getting pissed, too. I turned around to meet him face to face.
"These two should say their sexist shit to my face like 'real men'! I don't take such disrespect, Mr. Bianchi. If you can't control your members then they are next to lay on your carpet, it's as simple as that! They can fucking clean the floor, it's not hard!" I threw the towel next to the sink, not once breaking our angry starecontest.
He took a step forward, now looking down at me a few inches away. But I didn't take a single step back.
"Is that a fucking thread, Ms. Moreno? Because if so then I wish you much fun with getting killed by Jiménez, which, thanks to you, is still walking around, living his best life with the russians!"
Fuck, that really hit home. It was true. He was still living because of me. If only he knew how true it really was...
He continued: "Just because you can't fucking let the people who would lead to him live for at least ten goddamn minutes! Your carelessness is pissing me off! Until the day you learn how to control yourself, I will have to be there to fix the growing mess you make!"
His voice reached another point of aggravation.
Right now, I would give all my money for other circumstances, to throw the truth at him, to make him understand why I couldn't think clearly. But I didn't. One, he didn't deserve it, two, he would kill me if he knew.
"It's a member of my men. It's not up to you to decide what I do to my traitors! It's not about you!"
I made a step towards him, gesturing with my finger, pointing to his chest. The man's jaw clenched while his eyebrows furrowed.
"It damn well is! I have a score to settle with him, a promise to hold. What it's not about, is your little business problem! So don't talk about shit you don't understand!"
His arrogant attitude made my blood boil.
"Fuck you," I spat out, not being able to say anything else that could explain, raising my chin even more.
Within a few seconds I was pressed against the wall by his muscular body. I hated my body for the reaction but I automatically slided a few inches down the wall, while my face stilled in the same position I was in before. His hand stayed next to my head and supported his weight while my breathing suddenly hitched. I looked up at his eyes through my lashes.
A part of my anger slightly faded and I both, loved and hated this. What I was absolutely sure about was that I hated the power this gave him, so I desperately held onto the fury. I slightly parted my lips and he immediately looked down to them before returning to my eyes.
"Fucking say that again," His voice was deeper than usually, fuming with rage, just like his eyes.
"Fuck. you." I answered testing his patience. I knew I played with fire but I couldn't help it. I was furious. My skin slightly tingled where his breathing met the surface and my stomach felt unusually light.
As soon a the words left my mouth, his hand wrapped around my throat, choking me. I still looked into his eyes, stretching my neck through lifting my chin which gave him more access automatically and I enjoyed his cold rings against my hot skin. I was still damn angry, but the way his breathing was faster from anger, while my own slowly stopped from the lack of oxygen did something to me. Surprisingly I felt myself growing wet. He was still careful not to cut of the blood flow, so I knew he had no other intention rather than to scare me. Nevertheless it did scare me. Not him though- my own reaction. Normally I would have fought like a mad man, gotten a panic attack, flashbacks,- at the very least felt uneasy. Instead I did something unexpected.
I grinned.
I had never felt like this and I wanted more. So much more. The thought about how good he probably could make me feel was nothing I was proud of.
I took my own hand and placed it on top of his bigger one while still staring into his eyes. Then I squezed, firmly.
"If you choke me..." I pressed out, "Do it harder."
His eyes were hooded, breathing heavy, and I felt his hard dick pressed against me.
He groaned lowly and tilted his head back briefly as if he tried to contain his own emotions and convinced himself of something. This was one of the hottest things I had ever seen and it made me bite my lip and close my eyes a second longer with my next blink.
I felt myself almost passing out and my grip loosened. His own fingers and the pressure disappeared. I gasped for air, keeping the eyecontact steady.
"Don't," he said, referred to me biting my lip. He looked down at my mouth. Our faces where inches apart, I could already feel his hot breathing on my lips.
"Yeah, why?" I asked, gasping for air, then raising an eyebrow.
The distance between our lips was so little, you could really say it was paperthin. My body heated up, tingled and at the same time goosebumps formed all over my skin. I had never wanted to kiss and slap anyone this desperately.
What's wrong with you?! You don't want to kiss him! You want to kill him! Kill him. K.I.L.L. L not S. You hate this arrogant jerk!
"Sei un fottuto rompicoglioni, ma ti voglio. Voglio assaporarti, sentirti, farti stare bene..." (You're a fucking pain in my ass, but I want you. I want to taste you, feel you, make you feel good...)
"You know I don't understand any of it," I said.
"Bet you're into it either way, si?"
It wasn't a question, he was mocking me- with a slick smile at that.
"I really hate you, do you know that?"
Our faces were closer than ever, hatingly staring into each others eyes, then lips.
"Yeah, sure. I can return that, though."
The door opened with a loud noise and we startled apart. We really were lost in the moment... Miguel scratched his neck while looking at us back and forth.
"Sorry for interrupting but I think Philipe wanted to give his death meaning." I stared at him, waiting for further explanations.
"Someone cut the tire of your car, boss."
Miguel gave me a questioning look.
"My favorite fucking car?! Fuck, that's the last thing I need right now..." I let my hand slide through my hair to push it back before I let go and it fell down at the sides of my face again. We three left the bathroom and walked through the hallways.
My heels made a stetic clicking-sound.
I asked Miguel urgently: "How long until you have a new car ready?"
"I'm afraid it would take about an hour."
I sighed annoyed. "At this point I might as well walk."
"Just drive with Bianchi's car," he suggested bluntly.
Said man scoffed, letting out a short, sneering laugh. "Sure. But don't hit on me while I'm driving." I glared at his profile, sucking in air as a reaction after the accusation.
As self-assured as ever.
"First of all, fuck you. Second of all, it was you that made a move!"
"Yeah sure," the man sarcastically answered.
Miguel shook his head. "I did not sign up for this shit... Get a room already."
"Miguel, shut the fuck up or I'll make you regret it," I snapped back at him.
"Already do..." I heard him murmer.
"What was that?" I demanded, giving him a death stare.
"Nothing, really," he tried to rescue himself.
We reached Mr. Bianchi's car in no time and while I argued with him, we both got into the seats and closed the doors.
"Stop talking like you know everything, arrogant jerk. I already told you Jiménez is smarter than this, of course he doesn't talk about his plans with some asshole he found on the streets to kill me! Why would I waste my time on them?"
He drove with one hand on the wheel and kept his eyes strictly on the road.
"So you do know him."
I turned my head to look at him. "What?
"You know Jiménez. Personally," he stated.
I swallowed, watching the road again, fixating a tree as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. My voice was hard, too hard. It revealed the answer...
"That's none of your business."
"Oh, but it is, remember? So tell me, why are you so afraid of him? Have you two fucked? Killed his favorite dealer? What did you do to fuck up again?"
"Stop asking. Just shut up and drive." I really tried to contain my feelings because I knew he tried to get to me. He could though, I was everything else than strong when it came to this topic.
▪︎■ 16 years ago ■▪︎
A loud knocking tore through the air. My papa knew who was outside, I could tell.
"Go, hide somewhere, mi hija! And don't come out, no matter what! They only want to talk to me, I promise."
I didn't know if I should believe him, but I did as he said due to the urgency in his voice. My feet ran to the wardrobe and I slipped inside before closing the door. I could see through a little slit in the wood and my breathing was shaky while I was staring outside. I was scared.
My eyes flickered from my papa to the door when another knocking sound came from outside. He opened the door and a man came into sight. I couldn't see his face because my father was in front of him, but I could see his arm peeking from the side. It had ink inside the skin and I noticed a big tattoo on his forearm.
My father had one on the same spot, too. Although on his arm was a snake and not a skull. I could see initials, too. On the stranger's arm, right next to the lion was a big 'MD'. It stood for his cartel, I figured.
"¿Qué haces aquí?" I heard my father asking. (What are you doing here?)
"Tú y tu gente estaban en nuestro territorio, otra vez... Pensé que habíamos dejado claro lo que sucedería..." (You and your people were on our territory, again. I thought we made it clear what would happen...)
I could see him pulling out a gun and my breathing hitched. My hand came up to my mouth to cover the sounds daring to come out.
"No fue mi elección. ¡Solo sigo mis órdenes!" (It isn't my choice. I only follow orders!)
"Yo también," he said before a shot tore through the conversation. (Me too)
My eyes widened in shock when I saw my papa dropping to the floor.
No. No... No!
The murderer only took one last glimpse into the house and ran, getting into the car. This second was enough to notice a deep cut on his arm, but not enough to look up to his face.
He was gone.
I sat inside the wardrobe, completely destroyed. I wanted nothing else than to run outside to my father, but I waited a few seconds to make sure everything was clear. He always told me to do that no matter what happened.
The tears streamed over my face and the silence while waiting was deafening. A gurgling sound came from my papa and I couldn't bring myself to hide any longer. I ran out and towards him, falling to my knees and sliding over the wooden floor due to the force of my body. I could feel my knees busting open, but the only thing I cared for was my papa. I sobbed and cried and screamed his name while shaking him lightly.
I looked at his torso and saw the bloody stain on his shirt. The asshole shot his stomach.
His eyes were wide open in shock and pain and he was reaching out to me. I took his hand and squeezed it tightly.
"Don't die! Stay with me, please. Please, please, papa! I don't want to be alone... You can't leave me, you promised!"
He tried to say something but ended up spitting out blood. I closed my eyes when some of it hit my face.
"Please," I heard myself weep out between sobs.
The door opened again but this time it was another male stranger. I felt slight hope rising inside when I was able to see the same initials on his wrist than my father had.
"Please help me! He got shot in the stomach!"
He looked down to him with no sympathy towards me. "He's as good as dead."
The man came down and tried to reach him, but I threw myself over my father's body, trying to protect him.
"No! Do something, help him! He's not dead!" I pleaded and cried.
"Listen, he can't go to a hospital and with this kind of injury, he has zero chance. Get off him, now!"
I sobbed violently, not wanting to hear anything he had to say that wasn't "I'll help".
He took my arm and painfully dragged me from his body while I repeadetly screamed for him to stop. I got no answer.
Outside were a few more men and he shoved me into the arms of one of them. He grabbed my shoulder, I heard a cracking sound and cried out in pain. He squatted down to look at me, eye to eye, his hands on my shoulders to stop me from running away. His hold on me was bone wracking, not a sign of any kind of gentle treatment just because I was a child or a girl.
"¿Cuantos años tienes?" he asks. (How old are you?)
"Tengo siete años. ¡Por favor, ayuda a mi padre! ¡Él es uno de ustedes!" (I'm 7. Please help my father! He's one of you!)
The not so old looking man shook his head and I didn't get an answer for the second time.
I tried to shake myself out of his embrace, but I stood no chance against him. I heard some men screaming orders at each other and when I was sure that they pulled my father's body out of the house, I bit the man's arm and turned to run to the corpse. I fell to my knees once again, clawing into the shirt of the lifeless body. A few strangers came running towards me and I felt them kicking my back harshly. The kicks into my ribs and my injured shoulder hurt the most. I winced from the pain and tried to protect my head by bowing it down, chin on my chest.
"Emilio!" One of them screamed. The man from the start came out of my home and furrowed his brows when he noticed me on the floor. I watched him from the corner of my eyes, expecting him to rip us apart again. Suddenly, he grinned, obviously having an idea.
▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎
"You are scared, afraid. Even desperate to do anything to kill this man. Why?"
"Why are you?" I countered.
"None of your business," he answered as if it was a plausible answer as long as he was the one using it. "Besides, I'm still pissed because you killed Phillip."
My jaw clenched. I wanted to snap back at him but suddenly a loud shooting noise and the sound of breaking glass echoed in my ears. The car swerved to the other side of the road before Bianchi's grip on the wheel was stable again. I stared at the black SUV next to us whose passenger obviously shot at us from an open window.