Thankfully, as the days soar past like birds flying in the baby blue sky, the perfect opportunity arose. Tonight just so happens to be the night where Diablo recruits new clients for Diablo's Paraiso. While I usually bring in new Angeles, Diablo focuses on keeping the money flowing in with new clients every few months.
It's this entire process to be considered as a member of this esteemed establishment. For starters, clients have to make over five million dollars a year and are interested in the underground business. Just imagine accidentally inviting someone with morals — like actual morals like the fucking pope.
That's a horrible example since he's been here before, and I fucked his wrinkly shrimp dick. But there's a difference. Diablo tends to go for the individuals who effortlessly sway to the side of temptation, especially when money is a luxury to them. I guess that's how Asiel fell on his radar.
Sometimes I wished-- he hadn't.
Everything is morally grey these days.
Asiel.
Me.
Our relationship.
My involvement in his life drove him to be a man that he wasn't ready to conquer yet. A man with blood dripping down his wrists. He was supposed to remain pure, be the white dove flying in the chaos. Asiel was supposed to stay untouched, but he's tainted. Everything I wanted to protect him from ended up happening because I existed. My sole existence is a menace to this earth. To think for a second, I deserve to be with Asiel-- smh... it's a funny thought.
Pulling the bobby pin from my hair, letting my hair collapse in front of my face, I jiggle the lock until I hear it click. Because of Diablo's schedule, I'll have around three hours to scour through the house, but I expect to use half that time. I wouldn't want to risk running into Diablo here. I am prepared, with a gun strapped to my back and a knife tied to my thigh. Asiel's hoodie is baggy enough to hide everything.
With the magic of Pacho's hacking skills, he loops footage on Diablo's phone, causing the cameras to point at the floor. Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I dig through his bookshelf for anything out of place. There's nothing unusual. A lot of psychological books since Diablo loves to expand his knowledge. The books alone cause me to yawn and grow bored, almost forgetting my purpose in breaking into this house.
After I leave everything the way I found it, I wander to his second floor and burst into his office room. It's a plain room with beige walls and a matching darker beige desk in the corner of the room. Everything was left in perfect condition-- stacks of papers lined up perfectly, pens and pencils in their container, the computer mouse in the middle of the pad-- perfectly symmetrical.
I'm starting to think Diablo has OCD.
Rolling the chair out, I sink into the cushion material and shake the mouse roughly to wake the computer. The black screen explodes with the basic windows background and password on the main screen. Shit. Diablo wouldn't have left the password written down, right? Pursing my lips, I peek through his drawers to see them completely empty.
I guess that would've been too easy.
Cracking my knuckles, I replay all the possibilities of the password like a CD in a jukebox and randomly select one. It worked once-- maybe it can work again? I plug in the date we met, and an error pops up on the screen. Shit. Could it be the day when everything went down between Riley and me? Nope. Another error message pops up on the computer screen.
Okay, let's see.
My fingers tap on a random letter, filling the text box with characters as I debate my next guess. His father's death, maybe? December nineteen, two-thousand and eight. The window screen evaporates, morphing into a background picture of Diablo and me-- fifteen years ago. I'm smiling, but I can see the absence of emotions in my blue irises. They were dark, riddled in a pool of nothingness.
Eugene's arm is wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer to his chest as he flashes a pearly white smile. The corner of my lips had remains of cookie and cream ice cream. Eugene spoiled me with three scoops of ice cream. We were strolling through the streets after one of Eugene's assignments and found a playground with swings. God, I used to love the swings. It's a bittersweet memory-- I guess.
A time when Eugene and I had a sort of connection, a type of understanding, and didn't have to hide things from each other. Who knows? I was only twelve at the time. It is easy to keep a child at arm's length when they have no one else to cling to. I wonder why this moment is sacred to him.
Was it because it was the first time he confessed everything he did for his father? All the merciless killing for the sake of power and money. The man who abused him if he brought anything less than his quota. I didn't understand the significance of anything at that age. Twelve-year-old Mika just wanted to be accepted into a family and survive the dark abyss in front of her.
Yawning, I click on the blue folders on the computer with every single one filled with pictures. There are collections of Angeles, staff, clients, and one fat folder, especially for me. I mean, I get it-- I'm fucking amazing, but this is charting stalker territory. There's even a subdivision for all the years Diablo and I have been together.
Creepy, but alright.
Either way, nothing is mentioning Mateo, which is fucking fantastic. Chewing on my nail, I open a google tap and look through his recent searches, resorting to nothing. Either Diablo wiped the fucking computer clean, or there's nothing here except very concerning photos of myself. Sighing out of the computer, I spent ten minutes leaving everything the way it was when I walked in.
Next up-- his bedroom.
It's the same as the last time I'd been in here-- five years ago when I fucked him after getting drunk at Paraiso. It's a hazy memory with the lines were crossed by both of us. I obviously didn't care, but Diablo was sensitive to topics involving me. He liked being able to fuck me and hated being told he couldn't anymore.
Maybe that's when everything started to change.
When I finally grew into my own being, with my thoughts and decisions, and Diablo despised it with a passion. Is that normal for an adult figure to want to keep you from growing up? To have your thoughts be their thoughts, or it's wrong? I don't know. Who am I supposed to compare him to when all the adults in my life fucked me over? Diablo is Diablo. He admits his wrongdoing and tries to fix the things he caused.
Guilt slips in like a fly through an open door. It's almost like a tiny piece in my chest is guilty of choosing Asiel over Diablo. A man-- no matter how fucked up our relationship was who took care of me and gave me the life I'm living now. I'm a fucking billionaire because of him, and I met the love of my life because of him.
Now, I'm leaving him behind for someone better, and I don't even care if he gets burned in the process. Or I thought I didn't. What the fuck? Why am I suddenly getting sentimental? Does this come with the territory of discovering feelings? What is there to even be sentimental about? He's only a margin better than the rest of the corrupt adults in my childhood.
Whatever.
I'm distracting myself.
Carefully, I probe through his end table, finding nothing important besides a pack of cigarettes and lotion. Lots of it. Looks like someone hasn't been getting laid these days. Ah, depressing to think there's a chance I'll have to rely on my toys for the rest of my life. My body shivers with the disturbing thought.
Nothing under his bed.
Nothing hidden between his clothes.
Behind the painting--nothing.
What the fuck? There has to be something I'm missing here. Sitting on his neatly made bed, I close my eyes and think about everything Diablo taught me in the course of my lifetime. Got it! A smug smile curls on my lips. With alertness, I wander through the room, listening attentively to anything out of the ordinary.
Creak.
Wait.
Returning to the spot at the edge of the bedroom rug, I press down harshly on the wooden plank, and the creaks nearly shatter my eardrum. Bingo! Dropping to my knees, I pull the carpet up and use my nails to lift the plank. My heart beat thumps against my ribcage, bouncing off the walls of my chest. It has to be right here. The feeling is wavering in my gut that I'm about to uncover a gold mine. Everything is going to fall into my lap like a sack of potatoes.
Before I have a chance to remove the plank, I halt in place and hear a sound so clear, like second nature to me-- the unmistakable click of someone taking off a gun's safety lock. The cold barrel presses against my head, causing me to drop the plank and for it to fall back into place.
"So, I guess the words, me and you till the end, meant nothing to you, right, Mika?" My stomach plummets to the bottom of the fucking ocean at the sound of his husky, stony voice.
Why was he here? He's supposed to be occupied for the next few hours.
"Place your hands behind your head and slowly turn around. Don't make any sudden moves or I'll blow your head off. You know the drill, Mika," Diablo says, his voice devoid of emotions.
Fuck. There are only so many things I can do. For one, I could try to fight Diablo head-on, but even if I'm better at combat-- he has the gun. All it takes is one shot, and I'll be nothing but a corpse. The safest option would be to try to talk my sexy ass out of this messy situation. Fine. Let's play the part, Mika.
Slowly, I crisscross my hands behind my back and turn around, lowering myself to follow the orders of a measly male. Again. How tragic. Diablo stands, his hand unwavering, pointing the gun between my eyebrows, dressed in a lovely black tuxedo. His brown irises almost appeared like obsidian black from his unreadable expression.
"Diablo, I-."
"Yeah, yeah," Diablo cuts me off. "How does it feel like being caught red-handed?"
Swallowing my lump of pride down my throat, I beg, "Please let me explain."
A dry smile spreads across his lips. "No, you listen to me, Mika. You know." Keeping the gun pointed at my face, Diablo walks over to his bed and pulls out his wallet from under his pillow. "What a good day to forget my wallet here, wasn't it?"
My heart beats erratically to the sound of pounding speakers. "Diablo, please let me speak-."
"Shhh, my love," he says, using his pointer finger to hush me. Diablo pulls out his phone from his chest pocket and places it toward his ear. "Tania? Can you do me a favor? Kindly resume the tour for me. Our guest is waiting at the bar in the Strip. He's easy to spot. He's the only one without a mask."
I sigh, exhaling harshly through my nostrils as Diablo laughs, his dimple showing on his left cheek. "I just found myself to be a little bit... preoccupied at the moment. Thank you so much. Talk to you later."
He drops his cell phone on the bed and grabs the gun with both hands. "Wow. I didn't think I'd find a little rat sniffing around. I wonder-- what is she looking for? Hmm."
Loyalty is a very fine line between us. It's only been a few months since Diablo went behind my back with Isabela. The wound is fresh. Especially with me retaliating by taking away his rights to Diablo's Paraiso. Our relationship has been holding on by a flimsy, weak rope. This is the moment-- the snap that we ruin the many years of Diablo and Mika dominating the world.
Diablo steps close enough for the barrel to graze my chest. "Open it."
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What?"
He kneads the tip of the gun into my skin. "I said, open it. Isn't that what you were going to do? Open it, Mika."
"Okay," I respond in an airy tone.
With my eyes locked on Diablo, I pick the plank up between my fingertips and drop it to the side. He plays with the trigger, rhythmically tapping his finger. I lower my gaze to the hold on the floor, only to see a collection of gold bars and piles of cash. What?
Diablo squats down, causing a shiver to cascade down my back when he moves a strand behind my ear, whispering, "Not quite what you were looking for, right, Mika?"
"Eugene, please, I," I stumble over my words, jolting up abruptly, and walk backward until my back is against the wall.
Diablo follows, confining me between his chest and the wall. He drops his head, his shoulders trembling as his head shakes back and forth. A quiet, sinister laugh escapes from his lips, vibrating through his entire frame. He tugs my head by using my hair, pressing the gun under my chin, digging the barrel into my skin.
My skin aches under his force. But I keep my emotions secure, stern-- locked in a basement. We stare into each other's souls, searching through the darkness vengeance in them. Our noses rub against one another as his hot breath fans on my skin.
"I wonder what made my little Mika go behind my back and invade my privacy. We're friends, Mika. You could've asked me."
I narrow my eyes. "Just let me explain."
Another laughing fest rolls through Diablo's body while he shakes his head. "Oh, Mika. My dear, unfortunate soul. You are so fucked."
I'm a rat caught in between the cat's teeth. The talking strategy doesn't seem to be working in the way I'd hoped. He's beyond gone. Diablo is losing his marbles. It's obvious. He knows it has something to do with Asiel. That is what's driving him past the breaking point. There's only one other thing I could try, and I'm going to hate every second of it.
Catching Diablo off-guard, I grab onto his collar and pull him towards me, crashing our lips together in a swift movement. It's wrong. A piece of myself is crying, hating how I'm betraying my loyalty to Asiel to live another fucking day. It feels wrong. The way his teeth crash against mine as he surrenders into the kiss.
But oddly enough-- it's nostalgic.
He reacted the same way he did all those years when I kissed him. It's familiar. The way his mouth tastes like a cigarette mixed with mint. We know what drives each other crazy. I guess that's what makes us explosive. He crumbles in my hand like a cookie when I rake my fingers through his hair.
Eugene forcefully grips my cheek, filling my mouth with his warm tongue. He moans into the kiss, using his vacant hand to feel his way down my body. Eugene was always rough. It made sense why he couldn't find anyone to fuck when he's brutally aggressive to the point of no return.
As I play my part in this scheme, I trail my hand down the length of his right arm until I reach his weak grip on the gun. Quietly, I unload the gun and throw it off to the side. Done. He can't get me now.
Diablo pulls my hoodie off my head, tossing it on the ground as he lowers himself to his knees, kissing every part of my bare skin. "Ah, Mika. I missed this." He kisses the crease between my boobs. "I miss tasting you, your mouth, your body." He aggressively nibbles on my skin. "You used to be all mine. All fucking mine."
I roll my eyes and pull out the small gun strap to my bra. "And I'm still not fucking yours." This time, it's Diablo, at my mercy, on his knees as I unclip the gun, pointing at his head. "Just give me everything you have on Mateo Morterero so I can get the fuck out of here."
He laughs, wiping my red lipstick off his lips. "Why did you kiss me?"
I laugh, gliding my tongue over my teeth. "I didn't want you to blow my brains out. Why did you kiss me back?"
Diablo shrugs his shoulders, sporting a smug grin. "How could I not? It's nostalgia. The time when we used to fuck like bunnies. Maybe I wanted to live through those days again." He pushes his head against the barrel. "What will Asiel think of this?"
I clear my throat. "Asiel doesn't need to know. Besides, out of all the shit I've done to him-- this barely scratches the surface."
A wide, sinister smile curls on Diablo's lip as he digs through his coat pocket. "This is what you were after, right?" He reveals a thick envelope.
A frown mars between my eyebrows. "What is it?"
"Every single dirty shit that Mateo Morterero has taken part in."
I hastily grab the envelope from his thick sausage fingers. "Thanks for nothing. We could've gone on with our day if you just gave it to me in the first place."
He tilts his head to the side. "And not get a kiss from you? Nah, I like the way things turned out."
Grabbing my hoodie from the floor, I throw the fabric over my head and make a beeline for the door.
"Mika."
I crane my head back. "What?"
"By exposing Mateo, you will be exposing Diablo's Paraiso. This is a home. It used to be your home. Just think twice before you involve anyone else in your battle for your perfect fucking boyfriend. He's not the only one with stakes," Diablo says, his irises concerning a glimmer of despair.
"Diablo's Paraiso will be okay," I reply, sporting a small smile. "I promise. Not for you, but for them."
"This won't make him forgive you. You know that, right?" Diablo airs out one of my insecurities.
I nod. "I'm not doing it for forgiveness. I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do."
Okay, guys... this chapter is probably the most guilt I felt because IT FEELS WRONG!!! But don't hate on my baby Mika— she's just trying to make through another day 🥹🥹
The kiss meant nothing guys! I swear! Do you think it made Diablo's heart skip?
Are you guys happy Diablo handed over all the information involving Mateo? You guys ready for him to go down? For Mika to tell Asiel?
Thank you guys for helping me hitting 400K (officially now) ahhhhh I'm so happy!! I'm like so close to my goal, but I'm honestly just so happy to read all your comments and to reach the end because I love this story so much and I hope you guys do by the end of it!!!
Thank you❤️💜❤️💜🤍
Love ya!!!!