Chapter 16: The Scent of Nature

Two days later.. 02:17 p.m.

Santiago

That charming conversation with Orely is running on a loop in my head. Her evening wear showed off her curves well, with light make-up that kept her looking natural.nShe set the bar so high that I'm still under her spell. Shallow women who think they're superior or better than others and think they can get me, fuck them. They're no match for Orely. She's so different, so radiant, a bit of a character but a unique style. She's just my type.

"Ah Orely, Orely...," I murmured, grinning like a moron, watching the clouds roll across the beautiful blue sky.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that when my phone rings, I'm startled. Checking the screen, Alvaro's name comes up and I pick up the phone.

"It's okay boss, we've located it. A neighborhood just outside Acapulco."

"Hmm. Code A is on. Take it back to

Santuario."

"Okay Boss.”

Santuario is the name we've given to our little base deep in an abandoned forest, where most of our bloody activities take place. In a dark alleyway in the city, Sergio leads me to the undercover man,a certain Abdiel, who is involved in the deals that take place in the shadows, where the law of silence reigns. My father has already been informed, and this time he'll be there to see the face of one of the traitors still trying to get his hands on our dough. Another bastard who made a fool of us, pretending to be the faithful exemplar when he managed to hack into the system unnoticed. Trying to play the hero, he ended up getting caught thanks to one of our men, who discerned that he was acting suspiciously, going into the computer room several times. As a result, we knew the hours he had planned between his actions and the confirmation calls for each operation carried out. All this was taking place during the completion of shifts in the time slot for the guards' hour change. My father has already been informed, and this time he'll be there to see the face of one of the traitors who tried again to get his hands on our dough. I go down to my father's office to tell him it's time to go and I call Sergio to get the car ready.

Before leaving, I gulp down my glass of whisky and the warmth of the drink makes my adrenaline surge, and my eyes turn into the devil himself, wishing this impostor had never been born.

Santuario, 05:45 p.m.

In the heart of this dense, eerie forest, an oppressive silence reigns supreme. Dead leaves crunch under every step, creating a mournful symphony that echoes through the twisted, intertwined trees. The weak sunlight struggles to pierce the thick foliage, plunging the place into a mysterious darkness. An ideal place to get rid of someone without leaving the slightest trace. I feel in my element, where the lianas snake around the huge tree trunks like predators waiting for their prey. Don't be fooled by its appearance: thorny bushes claw at any intruder who dares to venture into this place forgotten by time. The air is heavy with a clammy mist, laden with the odors of damp moss and decaying earth. Indistinct noises can be heard in the distance, the cries of nocturnal animals or perhaps even ominous whispers carried on the wind. You'll feel as if you're being watched, hunted or even haunted by anyone who dares to enter this forsaken wood. Dancing shadows from the branches create absurd shapes on the ground, awakening ancestral fears and superstitions buried deep in the mind.

An uncanny setting, where time seems to stand still and only the song of the owls echoes like an ominous prophecy, stimulates the soul with mystery and thrills. Dressed in black, his fingers adorned with gold rings, my father stands ready, his piercing gaze scanning the surroundings. His face is marked by years of violence and loyalty to a world where betrayal is synonymous with death. He approaches Abdiel, in his thirties, his feet bound, gagged, hanging from a tree, his body sweating. I'm standing back to see how he plans to deal with this piece of shit. Silent as a lion ready to pounce on its prey, my father first patted him lightly on the face.

"So kid, you've hit the jackpot, isn't it?" Being selected to be here must be an extraordinary privilege. You've had your fun with my dough, now it's my turn.

With absolute calm, he takes the pistol handed to him by one of our men, after wiping it several times with a cloth, and shoots his left leg. The man screams out muffled cries of pain, seeing the veins in his neck appear. Meanwhile, I haven't moved an inch. I watch the scene unblinkingly as my father throws him a party. It's true that I had planned to take care of him personally, but my father can't get over the fact that this idiot was able to embezzle money without the slightest fear. So he went ahead and relieved his nerves, at least a little. The torture continued. My father paused for a moment while our victim recovered from his emotions. You know I'm joking, don't you? We never give that kind of privilege.

"Tell me, did you feel like James Bond when you were operating?" he asks mockingly, shooting him in the right leg this time.

My father orders a bucket of water to be thrown over him to refresh his memory. He trembles with all his soul under this deserved torture.

"Your end is near because you have to know that once you land here, there's no turning back, no mercy and even less luck."

In these dark moments, he tries to draw on his inner resources to resist, but the worst remains to be seen.

Finally, a grenade was shoved into his mouth, and within seconds of it being activated, Abdiel's body burst into pieces, strewn across the floor. Without wasting a second, my father and I left the scene while our men did the dirty work of burying the body parts strewn everywhere.

Everyone goes their own way and I take the opportunity to drop in on Orely.

Orely

It's nearly eight o'clock and I'm in the garden, gazing up at the deep blue sky, dotted with twinkling stars. The night is peaceful, enveloped in a soothing silence, disturbed only by the soft murmur of the wind that makes the leaves dance. I'm surrounded by brightly colored flowers, their delicate fragrances mingling with the cool night air that titillates my nostrils. I really enjoy spending time in my mother's vast and beautiful garden, where I feel free and at one with nature. The hours go by without me noticing, whether I'm watering the plants, weeding or simply sitting on a bench contemplating the landscape.

It's a place where I can recharge my batteries, reflect and reconnect with myself. Childhood memories of my mother teaching me to garden often come back to mind, further strengthening my attachment to this place. Each season brings its own changes, and I like to observe how the garden evolves over the months. As in spring, buds burst into bloom and in summer, the garden is in a lively festival of color. I look up, fascinated by the immensity of the universe, and lose myself in my thoughts. Memories flood in, forgotten dreams and unfulfilled hopes emerge. Suddenly I see a shooting star, put my hand over my heart and make a wish that my life will change for the better. I close my eyes, enjoying the light breeze on my face, when, unexpectedly, I hear footsteps and it's Santiago.

His gaze, intense and charged with raw tenderness, never leaves me.

"It's only me. I'm sorry I scared you. We're going to be on first-name terms, a much more appropriate option after the way our conversation turned last time," he said, raising the corners of his mouth slightly, forming a subtle smile.

Not knowing what to say, I nod.

"So, how's your evening going," he asks, approaching me."

"I'm enjoying the fresh garden air. But what brings you here?"

"I simply wanted to see you."

This compliment, though flattering, surprises me and puts me in a delicate position. My cheeks flush, betraying an emotion I hadn't anticipated. I lower my eyes slightly, a shy smile forming on my lips.

"I suppose that after the party last time, you had to stay with the guests?" I said, trying to think of something to say.

"Certainly not. This kind of event's a chore. I shook a few hands, gave a speech, and my work was done. Public relations isn't really my forte, but unfortunately it's part of my job."

Moving closer to me, he leans into my ear.

"Let's talk about something else. And how about picking up where we left off last time?"