The hotel's bright windows illuminate the dark street, 21 stories and 5 stars. It has multiple spas, gyms, and activity rooms for its guests, yet space is limited. Entire floors are reserved for the gang.
Von has a penthouse suite, the entire top floor to himself. There are inaccessible floors below ground level, floors that are open, unfinished, and poorly lit. Ten floors in between require card access.
It's hidden in plain sight. The rooms are mostly reserved for bullets but a few high-ranking civilians will sometimes stay here as well. I've noticed a few men in suits and a politician or two. For a while, I start thinking the whole world is corrupt. The men are the only ones strong enough that bring me out of my dark thoughts.
"You get better every day," Kimori tells me. "You're so fast now the big guys can't keep up. Two at once couldn't even lay a finger on you."
We're on one of the many inaccessible hotel floors. This one is like a studio, complete with a large living area and a full kitchen. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the entire unit making the cityscape view its best feature.
Romero and Seven are lounging on the large orange couch across the way. The bold color choices of this suite make me think Diana has the final say on decorating. The men themselves could never come up with something so chic even though they fit into the space perfectly.
Seven has his legs thrown over Romero and the older doesn't miss the chance to squeeze the muscles revealed by his shorts. His strong hands have veins creeping up his forearms as he works with precision. Seven's sharp jaw clenches at one particular touch and I catch little creases forming between his eyebrows.
Kimori continues on beside me. His dandelion T-Shirt contrasts with his dark skin. It constrains his broad chest and prominent shoulder blades. I put my hand on his arm and he starts to fumble his words.
"I just think you did—you did really well. You always do really well. It's kind of amazing how you weren't born into it. Well, you kind of were," Kimori trails off.
"Thanks," I say. "I'm not sure why you said that last part though."
I'm rubbing Kimori's bicep when we're suddenly no longer alone. Von approaches us by the exit. Despite some bright pieces the rest of the suite is pretty monochromatic and mostly white. We stand together on the linoleum. I instinctively drop my hand and Kimori instinctively smiles. Barely taller than Von, he's standing right in front of the large glass door.
"Move," Von says and I'm only surprised he communicates it verbally.
Kimori scoots closer to me. He's close enough to feel my chest pressing against him when I breathe deeply. The only thing is I'm right beside the door so he's still partially in front of it. He should've gone to the opposite side.
Kimori separates from me as Von presses him against the doorframe. Being that close to Von can be intense, blue eyes and freckles. Kimori licks his lips slowly. He scans Von's sharp features then his eyes fall to the floor.
"Look at me. Are you scared or something?" Von asks. He touches his jaw the same way I've seen him do a few others, including myself.
By now Romero, Seven, and L have started to notice what's going on. We all watch from different positions in the room. It's as if we're all on standby.
Kimori looks up and then back down enough times to apologize for it. Not enough to stop smiling though. Whether it's a nervous habit or not it takes away from the seriousness of the situation.
Von scoffs as his anger slowly dissolves into confusion. He presses his forearm into the top of Kimori's chest. He has never needed to use words. His expression says it all even when he's starting to scramble. Kimori bites his lip and Von copies him like he doesn't know what else to do. He backs away from Kimori and shoves his way towards the door.
His weapons are visible, two guns are holstered on his sides. Being an assassin with looks that can kill on their own is insane. But anyone can tell by how little skin he shows, even with 90% of it tattooed, Von lacks confidence.
The rest of us are predictable for him but Kimori is new. Kimori puts himself back in Von's line of contact and I'm genuinely impressed. He stares Von down.
"I'm looking at you," Kimori says, approaching him like it's nothing. "Look at me."
Von laughs, a genuine laugh. "It's hard to look at you sometimes honestly. You're such an idiot."
Kimori reaches out and nudges Von's shoulder making the older lean back. "Good luck," he says.
Von stills for a bit. I can't believe Kimori makes him this nervous. Kimori shows all of the emotions Von typically hides. Von thinks twice before saying anything kind and Kimori just lets it out like vomit.
"Yeah, good luck out there," Seven calls from his spot on Romero's lap. "Do you need me to come with you?"
"No," Von says curtly. He rubs the back of his neck. "Thanks."
Von has been an assassin for 13 years now. He doesn't really need our well wishes and he knows that. The only time he's ever had an issue since I've been here is when he brought Rosemary and she slowed him down. I would love to call it Karma. But Rosemary couldn't protect herself afterward either and it ultimately led to her death.
Von tried to keep her by his side and she ultimately died.
Von places his tattooed fingers on the door he was so desperate to get to. Clad in all black, his turtleneck displays his muscles perfectly. He's planning on making this quick and packed light for the occasion. Though I'm sure there are more ammunition in the car. He's strong but he's not at all unbreakable.
•••
This floor feels the most like home. Floor 13. It appears lived in, overly so. There's enough room for all of us but the space is open enough for me to still hear Romero yelling on the game.
I'm cooking with L in the kitchen. Cold water runs over my hands as I wash broccoli florets. I used to cook all the time with my dad before I started hating others being in the kitchen with me. It's impossible to escape these men though. I find myself joining them more times than not and missing them if I don't.
Out of the corner of my eye, L trims and seasons blood-red steaks before placing them in a hot pan to sear. He hasn't gone to his second home since we were raided by the police. It's ironic we're playing house like this when he has an actual family to feed. I strain the vegetables and bring them over to him.
"So how's the wife?" I ask, now at his side. "Maybe we could get along. We could have a big dinner together," I say.
"That's not possible and don't mention her," L says coldly as he checks the meat. "I don't want to deal with multiple women in that way."
"So you don't want your wife to find out," I say. I already knew. "But you still want to fuck other girls."
"Not just any other girl." L stares at me intently and for a second I regret ever saying anything. "You're different than the others who were brought into the gang. You're stronger and somehow manage to get along with each of us, at least half the time. It's mostly that I didn't think you'd last this long, truly. Sorry."
L has completely taken over the cooking. He stirs white sauce into a creamy consistency before turning off the heat. He throws the broccoli into boiling water and lets it steam. I hold his gaze once he tilts his broad shoulders toward me. L isn't a good person. Ultimately none of the men are.
I've escaped death a few times on my own. Bloodied and burned, I refuse to lose to my environment. I refuse to lose at the hands of any man.
I'm fighting for my life whether I have something to prove or not. Loyalty: the gang needed to know they could trust me. They needed to know that I would put them above everything including my father. I failed and now they need to know whether I'm an asset or a liability. I have to show them why they should keep me around.
"When you love someone you're willing to fight for them," I say simply as I stare up at L. "Do you love me?"
"I care about you as a member of the syndicate. You've become so important to us." L reaches up and just when I think he's gonna touch me, he cuts off the stove.
I watch him as he continues. "It's just sometimes you put all of our lives in danger. I don't think you have the capability to save us all, yet you do this. What do you think?" L asks me as he gathers half a spoonful of the white sauce. He holds it to my lips awaiting my response. Careful, his prosthetic prevents anything from dripping.
I try it myself, taking the full spoon in my mouth. L has always been the best cook. Von and Seven are equally terrible. Romero is a close second, cooking for us more than any of the others. L just knows how to blend flavors more deeply.
"It's delicious," I say. "I love all of you so much. I would never intentionally try to harm you."
L tries it next and with the same spoon. The kitchen lighting does wonders for his rich complexion. He nods in agreement with my first statement.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Mia. And don't confuse lust with love."
L calls for the others to come eat and the men rush in too quickly for me to get another word out. Von is not back yet after dinner. He's not back when I head to my room alone.
I lie there for a couple of hours and my mind races with the things I've said. I put my hands over my mouth as I recall professing my love to these men over and over again. My stomach flutters until I feel sick.
I'm so dependent on the syndicate I need them even in my darkest moments. I debate calling Von just because he always comes. But I don't even know where he is.
The knock at my door is so heavy I immediately know who it is. I let Romero in easily and he smirks at me. They never leave me alone with my thoughts for too long. Romero greets me with a warm but brief embrace.
"How's everything going?" he asks casually like we're on good terms.
It's been two months since my father died. Things are still going terribly. I still don't know where I stand.
"It's fine," I say. "How are you? Are you still worried?"
Romero scoffs and gets a good look at my frilly pink room. "I was never worried. I just don't like the police knowing where I am."
My eyes roll on their own. Romero is taller than 99% of people and his muscle mass is higher too. If I had his size I'd be just as arrogant. The only difference is I wouldn't be scared of anything.
"I did want to ask you something," I start. "Why did you let Von sell the shop? We had so many memories there and we don't even know what this new territory is going to be like."
Romero smirks at me. He stalks off towards my couch before plopping down with thick legs. His low-V shirt hangs open while I notice the bit of tan skin across his chest and the scar there as well.
"Once Von, L, and Diana are against you it's best to just give up. There's no need to drag it out. We can just buy a new auto shop once we expand our territory," Romero says.
"What if we don't get to expand our territory?" I ask.
Romero stares at me from across the room. "So negative," he scolds.
I'm just trying to look at things from all sides. Diana has led us to our demise before. Following after her blindly could still be a trap. Von is the same way.
"I just don't want to be left in the dark again," I say staring straight into Romero's hazel eyes.
"You're so close to Von. All you have to do is ask him." Romero crosses his legs, caked muscle layering itself. He stretches out on the sofa inviting me to join him with just a look.
Once I'm seated beside him he continues. His curly hair is pulled back in a ponytail. There are two strands that remain in his face, brown, blonde, and past his chin.
"If you want something in this life all you have to do is ask for it," Romero says. "Closed mouths don't get fed."
He places his index finger on my bottom lip. When I go to speak he slides it inside. He's big and heavy on my tongue. Most of all, I haven't forgiven him for the way he treated me after my father's death. I bite down without a second thought.
"Cute," he chuckles lightly. "You're gonna have to bite a lot harder though."
He grips my jaw with the fingers that are free. I hate how warm his touch is and I hate how it's forcing my mouth open. I physically push away from him and our distance still remains.
"Fuck you," I spit. "I didn't let you in here to play games with you."
"Why am I here then?" Romero places his hand high up on my thigh.
I regret wearing my short silk robe, even with the minimal clothing I have underneath. "I need answers."
"I got the answer you need mami," and he's rubbing me as he speaks. "It's a big, long answer."
"You're such a dick."
Romero's eye twitches. It could just be due to my word choice. Knowing he swings in every direction, that probably just turned him on even more.
His pink lips stretch into an even wider smile. "I don't know who lit your house on fire. I don't know what Diana's planning and I don't know when Von is coming back. Any more questions?"
"It seems like I'm the only one wondering how all of this is going to play out. You put a lot of faith in Von and Diana. I'm jealous," I say honestly.
Romero reaches over, caging me between his strong arms. I smell his rich cologne as I'm engulfed in an air of luxury. "I'll let you know if there's anything you should be worried about. I'm here to make sure you stay safe. We all are."
It seemed like the sun stopped shinning, hidden behind miles and miles of thick cumulonimbus clouds. He was so cold to me I didn't think he'd ever smile again. Now heat is radiating from his skin. He's hot to the touch and if I try too hard I'll get burned.
"You promise?" I ask as I look away from him, focus my attention on the pink hydrangeas on my coffee table.
Romero finally leans in, buries his face in my neck and breathes, "I promise. I'll always be here for you, mi pequeña."
I know why I'm scared, even as the fear leaves my body, even as I wrap my arms across Romero's shoulders. If this gang were to fall apart I'd have nothing else to live for. I would die for them.