My blade slices through his Achilles' heel, causing him to snarl in pain and fall to the floor. I spin around, angling my foot to strike him in the jaw, sending him flying backward. He spits out a puddle of blood and a few teeth as I pounce onto his waist, stabbing him in the chest. All the malice in his eyes slips away as they widen, realizing their death is coming.
He gasps for his last breath before his body goes limp underneath me. Jesus fucking Christ. The fucker made me get my catsuit all matted with blood. At least it's not my own. The front gates of the warehouse open up with the bright headlights of the truck pouring in. My hand lifts to shield my squinting eyes, seeing four dark shadows in the light.
The shining light shuts off, revealing my handsome boyfriend decked out in his expensive black Calvin Klein suit. He's insane for showing up here at a nasty bloodbath with his sensitive stomach. During the massacre, Luka ran off like a scared chicken, leaving his men to fight for him. I guess he's terrified of a woman kicking his ass.
"Mika." His lips curl into a small smile. The faint, sweet way he says my name causes my heart to skip through the loopy loop. My cheeks flush hot pink under all this blood. The bliss in his irises disappears, replaced with panic. "Mika!"
Everything hits me like a truck.
The force against my skull knocks me off his lap and onto the floor, clinging to my stomach. My hands dance around for the feel of the blade as the taller, bulkier man flashes an eerie grin. Finally, my hand encloses the edge, and I combat his smile by flashing my crazed one. My body fills with disappointment as my hand crane back, only for someone else to shoot a bullet in his skull.
Seriously?
Mateo's lips tip into a smug smirk as he stuffs his pistol back into his holder. Smug motherfucker. What a fucking show-off.
I cough, receiving the side effects of the hit. Scrambling feet wander through the warehouse. The rest of Luka's men have retreated, accepting their loss for the night. Too bad. But I don't care. I'm after one man. The one person who can ruin the new life I made for myself. I don't want to be the old Mika anymore.
I want to be the Mika with feelings.
Even if it only brings me to my own demise.
"Mika!" Asiel shouts, clutching my face in his hands. He doesn't even flinch at the enemy's blood on my face. "Are you okay, baby? Are you bleeding anywhere?"
My heart explodes with bliss. "I'm better now that you're here." The tip of Asiel's ears turns fiery red, and I'm sure mine are too. I force the embarrassment pill down my dry throat, but fail miserably. "Sorry, it's weird to say cheesy shit like that."
Asiel strokes the apple of my cheeks. "It's okay. Leave the cheesiness to me."
It's cringy to say because it's the truth. I've always been a one-woman show with my sidekicks behind me. Riley, Diablo. I never felt the need to do a mission with them, but being without Asiel tonight was like torture. All my thoughts went to him. It's so stupid because I knew nothing would happen to him.
But I don't want to lose him.
Figuratively and literally.
Getting a good look at my man, I notice his red-rim eyes, swollen along with his nose. His fluffy raven hair is tousled, like he's been pulling on it the entire drive here. Guilt spreads through my chest like wildfire. It burns, and I feel sick to my stomach. He's figured out the truth, the truth I cultivate to hide behind.
Luka is a horrible person, and doesn't deserve to live, but wrapping him in my lies makes me feel dirty. I've always been a selfish bitch. There's only been one circumstance where I cared about someone getting hurt other than me, and we are here again. It would be so easy to lie if I didn't care.
Because when his tortured eyes look at me, all I see is the pain I'm causing. Why did the universe put you in my life? Was it to teach me a lesson or change my ways like the fucking Christmas carol? Do I get a prize for fucking caring? No, all I get are the emotions bundled into one wrapped present.
Will the shame go away when Asiel gets his vengeance on the person he thinks killed his brother? The hardest part of this situation is that I don't feel guilty for killing Ander. The fucker deserved it. I feel guilty for hurting Asiel in the process of seeking my own vengeance.
I lean my forehead on him, breathing slowly. "How do you feel, Muñeco? Everything okay? I can't help but notice your red eyes."
Asiel wraps his arms around my neck, snuggling his face into it as tremors vibrate through his body. He's sobbing violently, tugging at my fragile heart strings. I wiggle my fingers through his chaotic locks, trying to soothe him, hoping to console him.
"H-He killed him," Asiel croaks, his voice breaking, crumbling like particles of a rock. "I-I think he killed Ander. W-Why? I-I don't get it."
My voice wavers ever so slightly. "Why do you think that? I thought your brother's case was closed?"
He shakes his head. "No, that's what they wanted everyone to think. I knew the truth, my brother wouldn't commit suicide." His hand loosens on my neck, and his tear-streak face stares at me. "I wasn't a hundred percent sure until I found this." He digs in his pocket to pull out an unkempt feather. "It was at the scene of Ander's and Spencer's death. He's trying to keep anyone from finding out."
"We need to kill him," I say, keeping my gaze locked on the feather. "Before he comes after you."
Asiel sighs. "He already warned me."
My head snaps up so fast it almost breaks off my neck. "What? When? What do you mean, he warned you?"
He sniffles, wiping the tip of his nose with his sleeve. "He sent me this package with Spencer's blood and feather. I've been investigating for months, and I stopped because Pacho spoke some sense into me."
My nose slightly flares as I try to breathe through the blazing fire brewing within myself. Motherfucker. He's dead meat, and I'm feeding him to the wolves. Luka has the nerve to go after my man? Behind my back! The audacity he has, thinking I wouldn't find out about it. If they're coming after Asiel--legitimately, then I shouldn't feel bad for setting him up.
Mateo squats down, resting his arm on Asiel's shoulder. "Wait, why haven't I heard about this? That's a death sentence, Jefe. They're coming after you, and we need to hit them first."
A frown mars between my brows. "Hello, this was a private conversation."
His lips form into a closed-lip smile. "Then maybe you guys shouldn't talk in the middle of the room for everyone to hear."
My eyes narrow as I give him a deathly stare, contemplating all the ways I slash his skin apart. "For future reference, don't listen to our conversations. Keep your mouth shut, or I'll permanently do it myself."
"Mika," Asiel says, like a parent calling out their child for doing something wrong. "I should've told him and you. I figured I could handle everything, but clearly, I'm better with help."
Over Asiel's shoulder, Mateo flashes a cheeky grin and wiggles his dark eyebrows. My face is taut, but Asiel's fingertips intertwine with mine, softening me up like butter. Fine. Mateo can have this battle because we both know I would win the war. Loving your cousin doesn't compare to the way you love your lover.
"What's our next move?" Mateo asks, stroking his chin.
The rest of Asiel's men are cleaning up the bodies by gathering them up in a pile. It's higher than mountain Everest. One wrong move, and the bodies will come rolling down. A few of Luka's men are captive, with ropes confining their hands behind their backs. That's what we need. People eager to live, eager to spill.
My Muñeco taps his finger on my shoulder, his jaw clenching as his mind runs wild. "Concrete evidence. This feather is enough for me to convict him, but I need insurance. I don't want to kill the wrong guy."
My neck cracks as I twist to the left and right and pull my hair into a messy ponytail. "That's where I come in. I can get Luka talking. I bet once he realizes what went down in his house that he's going to Diablo's Paraiso. He will want to speak to me."
Asiel's fluffy hair falls over his concerned gaze as he grabs onto my hands tightly, like he never wanted to let me go. The things I would do to go home in sleep in our bed tonight. Being at war is exhausting. All I want to do is live in our perfect bubble, watching horrible rom-com together and cuddling.
When did I turn into such a snappy, cringy girl?
"Princesa, I don't want you to risk yourself more than you already have," Asiel pleads, his eyes morphing into those heart-wrenching puppy dog ones. "He's not playing this time. He knows you chose me again. I can't risk something happening to you. I'll get Mateo or Pacho to do it."
My lips tip into a mini smile. "Muñeco, Luka is the least of your worries. I can take him if he tries anything." My words didn't calm the storm in his mind as his irises glimmer with fear. "But he won't. He wants you, Muneco, and in his head, I'm the key to getting to you."
"Just call me when you leave him," Asiel says, shutting his eyes as his face grows taut.
The black latex on my body screeches as I hoist to my legs and stretch my compressed limps. Damn, that's why I'm so tense. I forgot to do my most important step before a fight-- stretch. It works wonders, especially when I do a dropkick. My knuckles have dried blood on them all the way to my wrist.
Do I even want to see what my face looks like?
Before walking out of the warehouse, I turn my heel to face my boyfriend with flushed cheeks and say, "Stay up for me? Maybe we can re-watch Titanic, and I'll stay up this time."
Laughter leaves Asiel's lips. "Yeah, that's like wishing for pigs to fly, but I'll be up. I wouldn't be able to sleep without checking up on you."
"Okay."
"Okay."
My heart drums against my ribcage as I take a mental picture of his sweet, boyish grin to survive the rest of the night. He deserves to always be happy. But I think the world has a vendetta against me. Maybe they sided with my family, and I'm getting punished for starting my journey to the darkness by killing them.
It's ironic to care about one of the many people I've hurt.
Pacho's back is leaning against the truck as he flickers the lighter to light up his cigarette. The orange flame brightens the gloomy, foggy night for a second as the cigarette burns. He takes a long drag, flicking the buds onto the ground with his finger.
He coughs lightly. "I got the picture for you."
"Perfect," I reply, standing next to him by the truck.
Pacho hands over his cig, and I take a drag, attentively checking the entrance to keep anyone from catching us together. The smoke sparks in my chest, mixing with the shame, guilt, and every other fucking emotion coursing through my body. Feeling this much should be a criminal offense.
He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "Luckily, I didn't get shot in the chest, or it would be ruined."
A small chuckle leaves my lips. "I think I would risk this piece of paper to watch every one of you get shot. You guys deserve it."
He puckers his lips, refusing to release his grip on the paper. "You're right, but I think you should be the one that pulls the trigger."
"Agreed!" I swat his hand. "Now, release!" Pacho flicks his fingers in his direction with taut brows as his gaze locks on the cig. "Oh, why didn't you just ask for it? Now, tradesy."
Pacho inhales another mouthful of smoke. "Is it enough to get the job done? Will he be left with any doubts?"
I shake my head, unfolding the piece of paper to reveal the digital altar photo of Luka leaving Ander's apartment the night of his death. Everything looks realistic, like the one Luka is holding over my head. The date, time, and frame-- all construct the perfect story. A love story ending in a tragedy-- the type of romance Asiel loves to watch.
"It's enough. This should seal the deal," I reply, folding the paper into a small square, easy to hide. "Asiel won't question a thing. By the way, I need to see that bloody box Asiel mentioned."
"Ay, ay, captain," Pacho says, giving me a sailor's statue.
Pacho returns to his crew, tossing his cigarette to the ground as I trek to the Camary I drove here. After starting the ignition, I stuff the photo into my car pocket. The tires scrape against the ground, leaving tire marks in my wake. I roll the windows down, enjoying how the wind flows through my hair.
Hopefully, no cops stop me on the street, or I'm going to have a tough time explaining the blood. The drive is therapeutic as I shut off my thinking cap and immerse myself in the music. I'm pretending I'm in my own music video, racing down the city streets like in the fast and the furious. The lack of traffic makes the drive to Diablo's Paraiso shorter than usual.
I park my car a block away from the club and hop out with my bag slung on my back. Sergio unhooks the red velvet rope upon my first step, observing the tight constraining fabric on my body. At least he's not questioning the blood. Though, it wouldn't be my first time walking around the club covered in blood.
No, the first time belongs to Becky Baker when I ate her out.
Never again.
Typing my employee code, I select the private room floor and hold on to the bar as the elevator lowers. The reflection of myself in the mirror almost startles me. Blood is on my forehead, the tip of my nose, the apples of my cheeks, my chin, and under my eyes as if I was at a football game. My dark, messy hair is combined with blood from when I hid under all the dead bodies.
Before I could burst into my room, a grip chokes the living shit out of me as my head slams against the wall. I explode into insane laughter as my eyes flutter open to meet Luka's rage-filled blue irises, spewing venom without saying a word. What a cheater! He got me when I was off-guard.
"What. The. Fuck. Mika," Luka seethes, spit landing on my face. "Where's lover boy? You promised to give him up on a silver platter. Better have a good fucking reason for him being at my house."
I giggle, the adrenaline running through my veins like a replacement for blood. "How am I supposed to know? I don't control what he does? I just behave like a good girl. That's my job, no?"
He tightens his grip on my throat, leaving minimal airway. "Stop being a smartass and start talking before I lose my patience. If I remember correctly, I'm the one with the upper hand. I have the photos, and I can murder you right now."
My composed gaze penetrates through his. "What are you waiting for? Be a big man and do what you came here to do."
Luka frees my neck, letting oxygen into my airway as he turns on the balls of his feet. My feet land on the floor, but I can barely enjoy the freedom before a sting spreads on my cheek. My face flings to the opposite side from the force of his slap, knocking the baby hairs over my eyes.
"You stupid fucking bitch," Luka rages, clutching my jaw so hard he could break it. A grimace takes shape on my face as he forces my gaze to meet his. Rampage, havoc, and venom in his irises. "I'm going to carve out your skin while your lover boy watches. Then, before I kill you, I'll shoot him in the head for your final memory. Or maybe I should kill you now."
My blood turns cold, but I wear the pretty mask like an expensive fur coat. "You won't be able to get to Asiel without me. I still have plenty of intel to offer. But first, be a dear and treat me with respect."
His nostrils flare as he steps back. But it's a ploy. I see it a mile away. My head jerks to the side as Luka aims for my pretty, symmetrical face and punches his fist through the wall. Powered dust explodes from the force as he swallows a groan, removing his bloody knuckles from the hole.
I raise a brow, glancing over at his cracked knuckles. "Try faster next time. Maybe then you can get a scratch on my pretty face."
When he does shit like this, the whole idea of framing him is a lot easier and simpler. What do I have to feel guilt for when he's such an asshole? The world would be a better place without someone like him. Or what about someone like you, Mika? A monster.
Tension lines Luka's face, his brows brunch tightly together as he shakes his hand. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you for betraying me once again? Fool me once- shame on you. Fool me twice- shame on me. It would be a waste to kill a pretty girl like you."
"Tuesday," I say, cracking my knuckles. "A meeting. Face to face. You guys can finally set your differences. By talking or killing, whatever you prefer. Just leave me out of it."
His brows pinch as he digests all my information. "How do I know you aren't setting me up? That you won't help wipe out my familia because of your little boyfriend?"
My lips curl into a virtuous smirk. "What do you want me to do? I am at your service."
"You will arrive with me at the meeting," Luka demands, glancing down at his bloody knuckles leaking onto the concrete. "I want to see the despair in Asiel's eyes when he finds out even his own girlfriend is against him. It will break him. The poor church boy dies of heartbreak. Tragic."
My stomach sinks just thinking about Luka getting his wish and wiping Asiel from his earth. If anyone deserves to live on this God-green earth, it's Asiel. It's always the purest souls that lose in the survival of the fittest. Asiel just happens to collide with the bitch that can take anyone down.
I can't fucking wait to wipe the smug smirk off Luka's face.
Get rid of all the evidence once and for all, and live my life with Asiel without this guilt cloud hovering over my head.
Lmao why do I think Mika covered in blood is lowkey hot? I think I'm honestly going insane if I'm not already 😜😜... but like seriously in a cat suit too 🙊🥵woahhh.
Asiel is a lucky man 😜
Do you guys feel bad that Mika is planting evidence on Luka? Or does he deserve to go down with the ship? I think it's pretty tricky question... I mean if you involve Asiel in equation...
He's heartbroken 🥺🥺he just wants justice for his brother but we don't want that 😂😂😂
Thank your for reading this chapter and I can't wait to read all your comments! I'm super excited to see what y'all think and I can't wait!!
Love ya💜❤️💜❤️
Your support means the world to me