PETER'S POINT OF VIEW
My house? What the hell is this? And the apartment he lives in across from mine? Bodyguard? I was extremely confused.
We climbed the stairs with Vegas pulling me by the arm; he led me to a room at the end of the hallway.
- You'll stay here tonight; tomorrow, I'll have them prepare the guest room for you. Vegas spoke as soon as we entered the room.
The room had a huge window and a spacious bed; most of the lighting came from two bedside lamps on either side of the bed.
- I don't want to stay here; I want to go back to my apartment. I had no intention of staying there that night or any other night.
- I already told you that you can't go back there now, and besides, everyone will suspect you when they don't find their boss.
- Did you kill him? It was almost an assertion, but I still wanted to hear his answer.
- I don't give warnings.
Upon hearing his words, I involuntarily sat on the bed.
- Now I have blood on my hands. I spoke so low that I didn't think he could hear.
- You didn't do anything; this has nothing to do with you.
- How does it not? You have a lot to explain to me. How do you live here? Who is the child crying?
- You ask too many questions for someone in danger. He replied, walking towards the door. Job and Bas will stay at the door; you can ask them for anything.
The door closed, and I was sitting on the bed in that huge room, thinking about how my apartment might be. A few hours passed, and I still couldn't sleep. I decided to explore the house a bit, looked at the clock, and noticed it was 3:30 am. When I opened the door, two men were standing on each side. One was very tall, and the other not so much.
- Do you need anything? The taller one asked with a smile; he seemed friendlier than the other.
- I want to take a walk; I can't sleep.
- Orders are not to let you out of the room. The other bodyguard said, but he addressed his friend rather than me.
- I'd accompany him.
- Suit yourself. If he runs away, you'll have trouble with Mr. Vegas AGAIN.
They argued as if they had been married for years and as if I weren't right there.
- I won't run away; I just want some fresh air. I said, interrupting their argument. They looked at each other and apparently reached an agreement. The taller one smiled again and pointed the way for me to go first.
- Which one of you is Job?
- I am Job; what's your name?
- My name is Pete. Where is Vegas?
- He must be sleeping in Mr. Macau's room.
Mr. Vegas, Mr. Macau, all of that sounded very strange. So, Vegas is rich? Why does he have so many bodyguards? My head was throbbing from all the things I had to think about at that moment. My thoughts were interrupted by the crying coming from the room at the end of the corridor.
- Who is this child? And why does he cry so much?
- Long story; he is under Mr. Vegas's guardianship, and he doesn't sleep well at night.
I walked towards the crying, and when Job put his hand on my arm.
- Where are you going?
- I just want to see why he cries so much.
- Mr. Vegas won't like that.
He tried to stop me, but it was too late. I had opened the door to the room, and before entering, I turned and whispered to Job.
- Then don't tell him. I gave a little smile and entered the room.
I took a look around and saw a short lady with the little one in her arms; she was rocking him, but it seemed to have no effect. She looked at me suspiciously, and I tried to give my friendliest smile.
- Did he wake you up? I'm sorry; I'm trying to get him back to sleep. She said all worried.
- No, no, I couldn't sleep, and I went for a walk. I heard his crying and decided to come take a look at him. When I arrived yesterday, he was sleeping, and I didn't have the opportunity.
I walked closer to her, and with my approach, he turned to see who was coming closer. His eyes were filled with tears, and his cheek was red. I offered my arms, and he now looked at me suspiciously, not sure if he should come or stay in the nanny's arms crying. Eventually, he came.
That baby smell invaded my nostrils, and I let myself feel it for a few seconds.
- What's your name? Huh? I asked with a gentle voice to the baby in my arms.
- Venice. The nanny said beside me.
- Venice, what a beautiful name! I put my index finger on his nose, and he let out a little giggle.
- Does that mean you like it? I said smiling, putting my finger back, this time on his cheek, and he laughed again. I spent a few minutes playing with him, trying to give him back to the nanny, but the little one refused to leave, grabbing my shirt.
- You need to sleep, little one. I tried to hand him back, but he clung to my shirt, not wanting to go back.
- You win; I'll stay here, but you need to sleep.
The nanny pointed to a large and comfortable chair next to the crib, so I walked over and sat down with little Venice in my arms.
- Mr. Pete, we need to go back to the room. Job said, worried. - Mr. Vegas may look for you and get angry if he doesn't find you.
- Then tell Mr. Vegas where I am.
They left the room, leaving me alone with little Venice.
- How did you end up here? How did such a beautiful baby end up under the guardianship of that idiot? I stayed there for a few minutes talking to Venice until he fell asleep in my arms, and I felt sorry for putting him in the crib. So, I decided to close my eyes for a few minutes and just enjoy the quietness of the room and the soft snoring coming from the little one.
I didn't realize I had fallen asleep until I noticed someone trying to take Venice from my arms. I woke up startled and held him a little tighter.
- Shhh, it's me. I'll put him in the crib; you're sleeping all crooked. I immediately recognized the voice and finally let go. Vegas put him in the crib and turned to the chair where I was. - You should go back to bed and get some more sleep; we'll be leaving in a few hours.
- Where are we going? I was still confused; how long had I slept there? I looked at the crib and saw Venice sleeping peacefully. I left the room quietly, and once outside, I looked for Job, but I only found Bas; he didn't seem happy. Immediately, I turned to Vegas.
- Where is Job?
- He took Macau to school. Bas replied, without any sympathy in his voice. Had Job gotten into trouble because of me?
I walked with Vegas to the room where I was supposed to be sleeping.
- Where are we going? Is Job in trouble?
- Job is fine; he just took Macau to school. As for leaving, we're going to your apartment to get some things; you'll be staying here for a while.
- I'm not staying here for any amount of time; you're going to take me to my apartment and then go on with your life away from me.
- You don't know what you've gotten yourself into. I warned you to stay away; I told you not to go to the club.
- I'm tired of you thinking you can tell me what I can or can't do and not explain anything to me. Why did you rent an apartment next to mine when you have this mansion and apparently are rich? Why do you care so much about what I do, where I go? How involved are you in Zack's death?
- I can't give you any of those answers now; you wouldn't understand, and everything would get much worse than it already is.
- Answer a few questions, and I promise to consider cooperating.
- Go ahead.
- Are you in the mafia?
- Yes, I took over the family after my father's death.
- Did you kill Zack? I was prepared for another vague answer.
- No.
- Do you know who killed him?
- I do, and when the time is right, you'll know. What I can tell you right now is that your precious Zack is not as innocent as you imagine.
- You have no right to talk about Zack that way. I raised my hand, clenched into a fist, ready to punch him in the face, but he grabbed my hand before I could hit him.
- You're a great idiot if you think your precious Zack is so much better than me.
- One last question.
- Enough questions; I've already answered everything you need to know so far.
- Tell me about Venice. My voice had softened; I wanted to understand a bit about the little one who had slept in my arms a little while ago. He took a deep breath and began to speak.
- For now, what you need to know is that he's from my family, under my guardianship; his mother was murdered, not by me. He said, raising his hands. - And that little monster is important to Macau. Enough questions; I'll be back in two hours, be ready.
He left, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in that room again. I now had some information; I needed my computer to jot everything down. I had to find out why they killed Zack, what kind of work he did when he went out at night, what he had to do the night everything happened—so many things circulating in my mind that it gave me a headache, and I just passed out on the bed.
- Mr. Pete, Mr. Pete. The voice started softly and then increased, making me wake up. It was Job.
- Job! I said a little startled, but even more relieved to see him there.
- I'm sorry to wake you, but Mr. Vegas is waiting for you in the garden; he asked you to hurry.
- First, you need to stop calling me "Mr.," and second, tell your boss I'm on my way.
I took a quick shower and looked in the closet for something to wear. I suspected that the room belonged to Vegas, but upon opening the closet, I was sure. We weren't much different in size, but his body was clearly more defined than mine. I grabbed a white t-shirt and some pants. If I was going to stay here for a while, I definitely needed my clothes.
As I descended, I found Vegas sitting in the garden, talking to two other guards I hadn't seen before. He gave orders in a serious tone, and there was no denying he had the posture of a mafia boss; he had a superior air, something I had never noticed before. He dismissed the guards and came towards me as soon as he saw me.
- Finally!
- If you were tired of waiting, you could have gone without me, or not brought me here at all. I said, going towards the car, which was parked in the same place.
- Are you just going to stand there? I asked, closing the door. He shook his head negatively and came to the car, sitting in the passenger seat.
The trip was short; we didn't exchange any words during the entire journey. When we finally arrived at my apartment, I expected to see a big mess, blood everywhere, but what I saw was a clean and organized apartment. Even the things that were scattered before had been picked up. I turned, looking at Vegas, who was standing behind me; he just shrugged and entered. He sat on the couch and watched me gather all my things.
- You could be useful and help me. I said, throwing a pile of clothes at him. I was looking for my notes; I needed Zack's phone and the notes I had made about Vegas. When I saw Vegas waving a white paper with some things written on it.
He started reading aloud.
- Club owner, has a younger brother, mother died when the brother was young, moved here recently, and is a big idiot. He made a mocking face; I believe there are missing some information. I can help you complete it if you want.
I walked to the couch and tried to take the paper from him.
- Incredibly handsome, with good taste, smells good. He kept evading my hand so I couldn't reach the paper.
- How can you forget to put a dose of humility on this list? I said before losing my balance and falling on him, with my face so close to his that I could feel his warm breath.
- So far, I haven't said anything false, and it seems like you've been watching me for a while, haven't you? His face remained very close to mine.
- Every day, you confirm the last item on my list; you're a big idiot. I said trying to wriggle out and get up from that position when I felt his hand grip my waist and pull me back.
- Why were you so interested in knowing about me, Pete? His voice was low, hoarse, and dangerous at the same time.
- I just wanted to know who the idiot was who had sent me that note.
He chuckled and winked at me; I tried again to free myself, but his hand still held my waist.
- Excuse me, Mr. Pete? It was Louh, the doorman; he held a medium-sized package in his hands.
We jumped off the couch so fast that I got a little dizzy.
- Hi, Mr. Louh.
- I didn't mean to disturb, but this package arrived for Mr. Zack.
- You didn't disturb anything. Do you know Mr. Vegas, right? Vegas nodded in a small polite acknowledgment.
- Yes, of course. I hope the cleaning was to your liking, Mr. Vegas. He approached and handed me the package.
- As always, your work is impeccable, Louh.
- I'm glad it met your expectations; have a good day.
I was completely confused by this interaction, but that would be for another time, as I was more curious about the package I held in my hands. I closed the door right after Mr. Louh left. What could be in this package?
Vegas approached me as I opened it, watching attentively. Upon opening it, I was met with a large sum of money—dollar bills, hundreds of them. At the bottom, there was a small black-covered notebook. I opened it, finding some names written inside; I could only recognize three of them: Vegas – Macau – Venice. From Vegas's expression, he definitely recognized more names on that list.