《"Stardust and Solitude"》 Preface "Oyabun¡ªwe cannot do this," he pleaded. "Fuck off." A hard shove sent him stumbling, and then¡ªa gunshot. The sharp crack silenced the lingering screams of torture. "Finally, the bitch is dead. Take care of the corpse. Let¡¯s go." Footsteps receded into the distance, swallowed by the final, echoing bang of the warehouse¡¯s rusty door. He stood frozen, struggling to make sense of the reality before him. His gaze remained locked on lifeless eyes¡ªstaring, unblinking, into eternity. His ears strained, desperate for any sign of life. But there was nothing¡ªonly silence. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The adrenaline that had sent his heart racing at breakneck speed now slowed to a torturous crawl. He hesitated, then carefully cracked the door open to ensure his boss and the kobuns were gone. Satisfied, he stepped back inside and knelt beside the body, gently straightening it in the wheelchair. Tears came unbidden, mingling with the snot he wiped away with his sleeve. Sniffling, he pushed the body out of the warehouse, guiding it toward his car. The trunk creaked open. With effort, he lifted the lifeless form inside, folding the wheelchair neatly beside it. Returning to the warehouse, he searched for a sack, gathered the remaining mess, and hosed down every trace of the crime. When he was done, he tossed the sack into a fire bin, watching the flames consume it. From the same fire, he lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag, exhaling slowly, the tension finally unwinding from his shoulders. Alone in the night, he stared into the void, lost in thought, contemplating how to survive another day¡ªunbothered by the dead body in his trunk, the blood staining his clothes, the acrid scent of burning fabric, or the biting cold. Stanza - I With a tired yet satisfied sigh, he set his pen down. Pages lay scattered beneath his chair, and the table was a chaotic landscape¡ªjust enough space for his notepad among the clutter of dirty, coffee-stained cups, cigarette butts, an old lighter, and other remnants of the night. It mirrored the state of his mind¡ªthoughts tangled and diminishing with each rhyme he meticulously wove, crossing out lines again and again until, at last, perfection bloomed. Finally, the poem was complete¡ªa thing of beauty born from the ugliness of a harrowing night. Subtle in its metaphorical rhymes, it transformed his distress and suffering into something hopeful, offering him solace in the final lines. "Hmm..." he murmured thoughtfully, tapping his pen against the notebook. After a moment of reflection, he titled it: "Stardust and Solitude." A wistful smile crossed his lips. He closed the notebook, stretched like a cat, and leaned back in a deep, satisfied bow. Then, with a weary sigh, he made his way to the crumpled bed nearby, pulling the covers over himself. Nestling into a comfortable position, he reached out and switched off the night lamp, letting the darkness claim him. * * * Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Sleep took him swiftly, but the night was restless. Shadows pursued him through shifting layers of dreams¡ªeach one darker than the last. He ran, desperate to escape, but his fears always found him, lurking just beyond reach. It wasn¡¯t until the first light of dawn crept through the window that the nightmare finally loosened its grip. Ring. Ring. Ring. The sharp, grating sound of his phone shattered his brief respite. Half-conscious and irritated, he blindly groped for it on the bedside table, his fingers fumbling with tired familiarity. Swiping the screen, he mumbled groggily, ¡°Hello¡­?¡± ¡°Hey! Are you still in bed? You¡¯re supposed to be here already! Get your ass moving¡ªpronto. The boss wants to see you now!¡± The line went dead. For a moment, he sat there, still half-dazed, not fully awake. Then¡ª ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit!¡± Adrenaline surged through him. He jolted upright, kicking off the covers in a frenzy. Stumbling out of bed, he wrestled into his pants, scrambled for his wallet and keys, and finally snatched his leather jacket before rushing out the door. * * * ¡°Well, well, well¡ªif it isn¡¯t our very own literary don, gracing us lowly troublemakers with his grand presence.¡± Jimmy¡¯s voice dripped with mocking falsetto, the words stretching into the silence that followed. Behind him, two of his hitmen stood rigid, their dark shades masking any emotion. They flanked his revolving chair like statues, while Jimmy himself sat with his arms crossed, exuding an air of casual menace. He wasn¡¯t much to look at¡ªunremarkable, really¡ªexcept for his eyes. Cruel, calculating, always searching for weakness. ¡°Good morning, boss,¡± came a trembling response. The voice belonged to Elias Mercer¡ªEli to those who bothered using his name. Errand boy for the local crime family by day, insomniac poet by night. Out of habit, his eyes flicked to his cheap Mi Band, checking the time. A mistake. A small, heavy package hurtled toward his face. He barely caught it, stumbling a step back as he steadied himself. Jimmy smirked. ¡°You¡¯ll get that down to the docks before noon and bring back the subscription¡­ hmm, let¡¯s see¡ªby one. Your time starts¡­ now.¡± * * * Intermission As the door closed abruptly behind Eli, Jimmy¡¯s false cheer faded. Leaning forward, he opened the first drawer on his right. Inside, half a dozen burner phones lay in neat disarray. He picked up a black BlackBerry, thumbed it open, and scrolled to a contact: Gateman003. "Mule on the way. Confirm on arrival." A moment later, he switched the phone off. He lingered for a beat, lost in thought, before putting it back and reaching for his Galaxy Ultra. The screen lit up, and a familiar green owl hooted at him. Thirty-day streak. Jimmy grimaced but tapped the app anyway. Might as well keep up appearances. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. "Konnichiwa, wa-ta-shi wa¡­" Koh-knee-chi¡ª Meanwhile¡­ Eli rushed downstairs, taking two steps at a time. As he passed, he snatched a sandwich straight from the hands of a brown-skinned man who had barely opened his mouth. ¡°Thanks, Rav,¡± Eli whispered¡ªutterly unapologetic¡ªbefore darting toward the door. ¡°What¡ª?! Really?!¡± It was Ravi, the same guy who had called him that morning. Without hesitation, he flipped Eli off, shaking his head in exasperation. ¡°M*derchod, you owe me!¡± he yelled after him, his voice thick with irritation. Eli was already out the door, past the blue-uniformed guard in his stiff, official-looking cap. The man shot him an annoyed look, but Eli ignored it, letting out a good-natured chuckle as he took a huge, triumphant bite of his stolen breakfast. It was heavenly. ¡°Well, duty calls first,¡± he muttered to himself. He wedged the remaining half of the sandwich between his teeth and crossed the narrow street, leaving behind the unremarkable hotel with its flickering neon sign declaring it ¡°Open for Business.¡± The neighborhood was neither poor nor rich¡ªthe kind of middle-class limbo where no one stood out and no one was remembered. Life continued under the radar, business as usual. Well, except for the occasional snooping by law enforcement. Mostly in plainclothes, rarely in uniform. Eli, as always, blended in like a black crow among swans. Then, spotting his Tata Nano, reality hit him. Shit. It was already half-past nine. Peak traffic was about to kick in. He needed to hurry. Encounter in the warehouse ¡°I-I-I-I-I''m a, I-I-I-I-I''m a I-I-I-I-I''m a mother father gentleman.¡± Psy¡¯s thumping bass synced perfectly with each growl of Eli¡¯s Tata Nano. Technically, the small car wasn¡¯t built for such reckless enthusiasm¡ªbut Eli couldn¡¯t resist. His eyes flicked between the rearview mirror, side mirrors, and the road ahead¡ªcalculating gaps in traffic like a seasoned chess player. A slower sedan loomed ahead. Eli swerved past it, the gap narrowing to mere inches. The hum of traffic intensified. A motorbike whizzed by, barely missing his fender. The traffic light flashed red. Eli eased off the gas, his foot hovering over the brake before pressing down¡ªgently at first, then firmer as the car decelerated. The seatbelt tightened against him. Boredom crept in as he waited for the light to change. He reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with practiced ease. A deep drag. Smoke curled around him as he exhaled, his focus never leaving the road. Psy was still thumping away, bass rattling through the tiny car. A few minutes later¡­ With another ¡°Mother, father, gentleman,¡± the lyrics came to a close, and the traffic light blinked to orange. He swiftly tossed the cigarette butt into the open bin by the side of the road with a flourish. It landed perfectly, and though it might¡¯ve looked silly, he felt a light surge of satisfaction. His foot hovered over the accelerator, a familiar excitement coursing through his veins. The idle engine growled to life, "Bhrroom, bhrroom." He glanced briefly at the rearview mirror, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw he was ahead of the line of cars, which now glared at him like predators eyeing their prey. As the lights flickered to green, he slammed his foot down on the gas while releasing the brakes. The car leaped forward, and the exhaust puffed out a faint cloud of smoke. Navigating through the familiar streets, he took shortcuts whenever possible. His small vehicle was perfect for the city, and as he neared his destination, he appreciated how easily it maneuvered through the traffic. A few years of experience with the same machine had made him intimately familiar with its quirks and capabilities. He turned off the radio, already able to smell the sea before reaching the border of the docks¡ªspecifically, the decrepit part he knew, far from the official harbor. It didn¡¯t matter. He was there on official business. He glanced at the package in the back of his car through the rearview mirror, though he didn¡¯t look directly at it. It was none of his business what was inside. The less he knew, the better. An inconspicuous iron gate appeared at nine o¡¯clock. As he passed a few warehouses, he turned and stopped before it. He waved to the CCTV, and a couple of guards who recognized him let him in. Calmly, he drove forward, parked, and got out. One of the guards patted him down. A few nods of acknowledgment followed, and he was finally told to go inside. Unlike the luxurious office from which he had departed, the warehouse was simple¡ªcrates piled on one side, sacks stacked high on the other. After walking a few minutes, passing workers loading and unloading goods, he reached the far end of the warehouse. There, large doors stood, behind which the distant sound of the sea and the occasional cry of seagulls could be heard. At the far end was a small desk¡ªlikely a supervisor¡¯s desk¡ªand sitting behind it was a woman. *** Vera Donovan, despite sitting, exuded the aura of a predator. Her posture was sharp and deliberate, a woman who commanded respect without speaking. Her raven-black hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, its length barely grazing the top of her collar, revealing a well-defined jawline. Her stormy eyes scanned her surroundings with quiet intensity¡ªalways assessing, always alert. She carried herself with an air of confidence, always a step ahead. Dressed in a simple, well-tailored outfit¡ªdark trousers, a form-fitting shirt, and sturdy boots¡ªshe blended seamlessly into the gritty environment of the warehouse. While workers bustled around her, loading and unloading, she moved with purpose. Her gaze flicked to the steady flow of activity but never truly engaged with it. She was a ghost in the chaos, observing, waiting, controlling the narrative without ever needing to get her hands dirty. Her face remained calm, almost indifferent, but the sharpness in her eyes betrayed her intellect and immense power. She didn¡¯t need much¡ªjust a small, unassuming desk at the far end of the warehouse, the occasional sound of the sea and seagulls punctuating the otherwise silent hum of the place. To anyone else, it might seem temporary, unremarkable. But for Vera, it was a calculated position. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. She wasn¡¯t here by accident. She was waiting¡ªfor the delivery from headquarters. The package was important, though the specifics weren¡¯t for her to concern herself with. What mattered was that she was in control of its arrival, delivery, and fate. The workers and guards knew her code name, Sable, and had learned not to question her authority. Over the years, they understood that crossing Vera Donovan was not an option. In this quiet, remote corner of the city by the sea, Vera was both the calm and the storm. Powerful, yet in this moment, her power was silent¡ªalmost invisible¡ªuntil the package arrived. She watched the "boy" approach, her gaze unwavering. Already, she could see through the false bravado he wore like a cheap suit. The way he carried himself, masking the nervous energy beneath, was too obvious. Well, the mule is here, she thought, a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She had seen types like him before¡ªeager, jittery, trying to impress, but ultimately just another cog in a much larger machine. He was here to deliver, but she wasn¡¯t fooled by the act. She could already tell he didn¡¯t have the stomach for what he was about to become part of. As he drew closer, she shifted slightly in her seat, her calm eyes locking onto him. Everything about her was calculated¡ªdeliberate¡ªa stark contrast to the jittery uncertainty radiating from him. It wouldn¡¯t take much for her to remind him who controlled this space, and the weight of her silent authority made that clear. She waited. Let him come closer. Let him realize how out of his depth he truly was. *** As Eli drew nearer, his nerves began to unravel. The steady hum of the warehouse, the constant motion of workers, and the watchful eyes of CCTV cameras only intensified his anxiety. The noise, the ever-present sense of being observed¡ªit was all closing in on him. And then, as the figure at the far end of the room took shape, his heart began to pound. ¡°She looks like her,¡± he thought, a shiver running through him as the woman behind the desk came into focus. His face drained of color. Clutching the package tighter, he tried to steady his erratic pulse. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and with every step toward Vera Donovan, his legs grew heavier. His gaze dropped to the ground, unwilling¡ªunable¡ªto meet hers. Vera didn¡¯t move. She sat perfectly still, posture sharp and composed. Her dark eyes fixed on him with a predator¡¯s calm. The contrast was jarring: Eli¡¯s nervous energy collided with her cold, deliberate control. Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating¡ªas if the world itself had paused to watch. When Eli handed her the package, Vera didn¡¯t immediately take it. She let the moment linger, her eyes never leaving him. The tension grew thick. Eli shifted nervously, his gaze darting to the exit as if he could already sense his escape. His grip tightened on the package, as though holding it could protect him from the weight of the transaction. Finally, Vera moved. Her hand stretched out slowly, almost deliberately, as she took the package from him. There were no words¡ªnone were necessary. The transaction was understood. Eli¡¯s anxiety peaked. He wanted to flee. His steps quickened as he began to retreat, but Vera¡¯s presence remained heavy, urging him to leave faster. "Leave," Vera commanded, her voice soft but absolute, a quiet authority that left no room for protest. Without a second thought, Eli turned and bolted toward the door. His footsteps echoed loudly in the empty space, a reminder of his urgency and fear. He didn¡¯t dare look back. Once he was gone, Vera sat in silence, the package resting on the desk before her. She could hear the fading sound of Eli¡¯s retreating footsteps, and in that moment, allowed herself a brief moment of reflection. A tool, no more. Disposable, she thought. But useful. For now. She didn¡¯t open the package immediately. Instead, her eyes lingered on the door. She knew what was coming, knew the significance of the delivery. But for now, she was in control. The wheels were already in motion. With deliberate precision, Vera rose from her chair. The soft sound of her boots against the cold concrete floor broke the silence. She moved toward a set of shelves, where a fresh set of instructions awaited her. The package would be dealt with when the time was right. But for now, there were other matters to attend to¡ªpreparations for what would come next. As the faint sound of the sea reached her ears, she allowed herself a moment of stillness. The game¡¯s about to change, she thought, her mind already calculating the next steps. But then, just as quickly, she snapped back into focus. The game was always changing. And Sable¡ªVera Donovan¡ªwas always one step ahead. *** After an hour and a half spent on flashcards with the Language Owl app and a hearty breakfast, Jimmy returned to his room upstairs, this time without the usual presence of the hitmen. He¡¯d given them some slack for now, focusing instead on more pressing matters. Flicking on his BlackBerry, he saw a new message from Gateman003: ¡°Package received. Standby.¡± A small smile tugged at the corner of Jimmy''s lips. He switched off the phone and leaned back in his revolving chair, releasing a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding. For the first time that morning, the weight of tension seemed to lift¡ªif only briefly. *** Eli could hardly believe he¡¯d made it out in one piece. The woman¡ªshe looked so much like the one who had died just weeks ago. But that was impossible¡­ wasn¡¯t it? Shaking off the thought, he gave himself a mental pat on the back and adopted a more casual stride as he approached the exit. Then, just as he reached the threshold of the warehouse door, a hand clapped down on his shoulder. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. ¡°Oops, sorry,¡± a voice apologized. Startled, Eli spun around to find one of the workers standing there¡ªdressed in dark overalls and reflective clothing, just like the rest of the crew. ¡°You forgot the subscription,¡± the worker said, holding out an envelope. ¡°Right, thanks!¡± Eli snatched the envelope without a second thought, his nerves urging him to move faster. Without another word, he bolted for the door, leaving the worker standing there, momentarily bewildered by his sudden exit. The worker shook his head with a bemused smile and returned to his duties, reporting back to his supervisor as if nothing had happened. Incognito Location: Unknown Time: 11:00 hrs LINE: SECURED BEEP ¡°¡­Kuroshi? Death in darkness is in town?!¡± a voice nearly screamed, barely able to contain the excitement. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Keep your voice down. The walls have ears,¡± a second voice cut in, calm and measured. ¡°Hmm¡­ this is big,¡± the first voice whispered, still buzzing. ¡°What¡¯s Xianglong doing about it?¡± The second voice let out a weary sigh. ¡°So far, the Triad doesn¡¯t seem to know. But they will¡ªit¡¯s just a matter of time. Let¡¯s wait and see what the Syndicate has planned. Don¡¯t get involved, and more importantly, don¡¯t contact me. I¡¯ll reach out when the time¡¯s right.¡± The line went dead with a soft click. The first voice muttered, ¡°Zeez¡­ that guy¡¯s no fun.¡± BEEP Another Day: Another Job Mission accomplished, but Eli still couldn¡¯t shake the unease gnawing at him. As he drove away from the warehouse, heading back to the place, an unfamiliar tension weighed on his chest. He needed a moment¡ªjust a breath to feel like himself again. But time wasn¡¯t on his side, and there was no room left to waste. He settled for a compromise. With a few swift taps, he swapped the pulse of adrenaline for something calmer, more timeless. Nocturne in C-sharp Minor. A soft sigh slipped from his lips. The music was heavy, mournful, yet it anchored him. There was a certain weight to it¡ªreal and familiar, and strangely comforting. In the haunting beauty of the piano¡¯s cadence, Eli found a quiet solace. He drove back in silence, his mood subdued, and for once, the city outside seemed to match the stillness inside him. *** Eli didn¡¯t spot Ravi as he entered the lobby, but one of the hitmen was unmistakable, his shades catching the light from the window. He waited, and sure enough, the man frisked him and guided him upstairs. There was no lift¡ªhe was going to walk all the way to the 10th floor, the highest floor. Panting and sweating, Eli trudged up, his legs burning as he finally reached room 10D, tucked away at the end of the hallway. No CCTV cameras. He let out a breath, finding some relief in the absence of prying eyes. Another hitman¡ªno, a bodyguard, Eli corrected himself¡ªsat in a plastic chair by the door, watching a video and laughing to himself. When he saw Eli, he stopped the playback, stood, and knocked twice on the door, then paused, knocking again in a steady, methodical rhythm. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. A few moments later, the door opened. Eli couldn¡¯t help but think, How many people are on Jimmy¡¯s payroll? as he was ushered inside. The living room was cozy, filled with a few gangsters¡ªnormal ones, all Caucasian¡ªsitting on the couch, chatting away. But as Eli entered, their conversation immediately died, and he was led into another room. There was no knock this time¡ªjust a firm push from the bodyguard. Inside, Eli found Jimmy with his back to the door. The seconds stretched before Jimmy finally turned around, the sound of the door closing echoing in the quiet. The bodyguard stood behind Jimmy, as usual, his presence looming. Gone was the smug grin Jimmy had worn that morning. This was a different Jimmy¡ªcold, calculating, and no-nonsense. He sized Eli up without a word and asked, "The package?" "Delivered," Eli replied flatly. "Subscription?" Eli reached into his chest pocket and placed the heavy envelope on the desk. "Well done," Jimmy said, his tone calm but with a sharp edge. "Get yourself paid downstairs. Wait for further instructions." The dismissal hung in the air like a command. Eli nodded and turned to leave. Before he could step out, Jimmy¡¯s voice cut through the silence, "This delivery stays between us." Eli barely had time to say, "Sure," before the bodyguard followed him out and closed the door behind him. Jimmy, left alone, turned his attention back to the envelope, as if it were poison¡ªsomething to be handled carefully, with both caution and purpose. *** The walk downstairs was uneventful. Eli reached the 5th floor, where a small supply closet was tucked away. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, amid various cleaning supplies, sat Jane, an older woman with thick glasses and worn-out maid clothes. ¡°Business?¡± she asked, noticing him immediately. ¡°Mule,¡± Eli replied flatly. ¡°Hmm,¡± Jane responded, rising slowly. She shuffled over to a corner that could easily be overlooked and retrieved a black register. She handled it with care, flipping through the pages before pausing to trace his name in the old-school way. No computers, no internet¡ªjust the way Jimmy preferred to keep things off the grid, away from any eyes that might be watching, whether federal or otherwise. Eli was handed a hundred extra for this delivery, which he pocketed without hesitation. He signed the register with an ¡°M¡± under his designation, ¡°Mule.¡± No real names here. Not even Jimmy used his real one. It was already noon. Eli felt the familiar pang of hunger and the urgent need to relieve himself. First things first, he made his way to the bathroom, where he took care of business. When he emerged, Ravi was waiting for him. His usual scowl was replaced by a wide grin, and with a friendly smile, he extended his hand. "My cut¡ªson of a b*tch," Ravi chuckled, the tone of his voice full of familiarity and unspoken camaraderie. *** Another Day: Another Job I *** ¡°Not here. Walk with me,¡± Eli insisted. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Lunch is on me.¡± Eli started moving, closely followed by Ravi, who understood the cue and fell silent. They descended the stairs in silence, passing the busy servers and relaxed guests who remained blissfully unaware they were in a gang-run establishment. Eli led Ravi to an empty seat in the canteen on the second floor. As soon as they sat, the servers brought over the menu. Eli ordered a burger with a Coke for himself and hot dogs with another Coke and fries to share for Ravi. After a gulp of water, Eli drained another glass before settling back, his gaze lingering on Ravi, who hadn¡¯t said a word. Eli broke the silence. ¡°How many years has it been since we met?¡± Ravi raised an eyebrow. ¡°Since college, man. Why?¡± Eli sighed, looking down at his glass for a moment before speaking again. ¡°I know I should be grateful for the job. It pays well, but these last few weeks¡­ it¡¯s been a lot. It¡¯s stressful.¡± Ravi grunted sympathetically, ¡°It is what it is, man. No need to thank me. I get it. The job¡¯s not what you expected, but it¡¯s better than nothing, right?¡± Eli nodded, exhaling slowly. ¡°Yeah.¡± He motioned for Ravi to come closer. Ravi leaned in slightly. Eli whispered, ¡°I saw a woman at the site. She looks just like the one Oya¡­ took care of.¡± Ravi shuddered, the weight of Eli¡¯s words settling heavily on him. "So, what are we going to do about it?" he whispered. Eli leaned in and whispered back, "You know the people we need. We just have to find more, use the info to protect ourselves when the time comes." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Ravi carefully leaned back in his chair, a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes playing at his lips. He followed Eli¡¯s lead, taking a moment to subtly accept the couple of hundred-dollar bills offered into his hand¡ªsilent, but meaningful. It was a quiet gesture, paying Eli back for securing him the current job, especially with anyone who might be listening or watching in the canteen. Better to be careful than regret later. ¡°We¡¯re cool, man,¡± he said quietly. Eli returned the smile, the understanding between them clear without words. ¡°Thanks, dost.¡± *** Their lunch arrived, and with vigor, Eli attacked his, finishing it quickly. The last gulp of cola brought him back from his gloomy mood. "Good food, good mood," he thought, watching Ravi take his time eating, a hint of envy in Eli¡¯s gaze. "Are you not busy?" Eli asked. "Well¡­" Ravi took a moment to chew, then continued, "Everyone¡¯s been told to wait. Something big is going on. By the way, I was told to inform everyone there¡¯s a meeting tonight, in the basement. Don¡¯t leave the premises." Ravi slid a room key across the table. "There are snacks, a TV, and some books for you to pass the time." "What about you?" Eli asked. "I need to take care of some other business. Don¡¯t ask," Ravi replied, his tone cutting the conversation short. Eli nodded¡ªhe was still at the bottom of the ladder, after all. Eli shifted the topic. "How are your parents?" Ravi made a face, clearly exasperated. "They haven¡¯t stopped pestering me about marriage." Eli grinned. "You haven¡¯t told them about your firangi girlfriend?" Ravi grinned back. "Absolutely not. She¡¯s not firangi, she¡¯s my Anna." Ravi hugged himself, his eyes softening as he made a smooching face. "Yuck," Eli said, making a disgusted face. "At least play off your parents and introduce her. As a friend, maybe?" Ravi nodded, considering the idea. "Sure, El. I¡¯ll think about it. But you gotta back me up. Tell them you were also her friend¡ªyeah, from college." Eli chuckled. "Sure. A friend in need is a friend indeed." Ravi gave him a fist bump, and just as Eli was about to say something else, Ravi¡¯s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, giving Eli a grin as he answered. "Jaya Jaya Govinda¡­" Ravi sang before putting the phone to his ear. "Yes¡­ ok¡­ I¡¯ll be there." He hung up, then stood. "Got to go," Ravi said, gesturing to the untouched coke. "Here, finish this." "Sure, dost. Later," Eli replied. "Later," Ravi said, and Eli watched him leave, his mind drifting back to the cold drink in front of him. He stared at the untouched coke, then thought, Why not? He took a sip, savoring the drink this time, without hurry. After hours *** Eli wasn¡¯t sure when he had dozed off. He only stirred when a series of knocks on the door came, followed by his name being called more than once. Groggy, he checked his health band¡ªit was nearly 9:00. He rolled out of bed and hurried to the door, peeking through the peephole. It was Ravi. Eli opened the door. Ravi greeted him with a wide grin. ¡°My man, you ready?¡± ¡°Sure, let me grab my jacket,¡± Eli replied. As Ravi waited by the door, Eli quickly threw on his jacket, checked his pockets¡ªcigarettes, lighter, phone, and most importantly, the room key¡ªthen stepped out. He shut the door behind him, double-checking the lock before handing the key back to Ravi, who pocketed it smoothly. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Follow me,¡± Ravi said, already moving. Still half-awake, Eli trailed after him down the stairs. They reached the main lobby on the ground floor, where Ravi gave a quick glance around before saying, ¡°Not the front door. Come on.¡± He turned toward the kitchen. The chef and his assistant were busy preparing dinner and didn¡¯t even look up as they passed through. They continued on, past the supply chamber and out the back door. Ravi checked the alley, ensuring no one was around, then crossed the street quickly. The lighting changed as they entered a shadowy stretch between buildings. Eli snapped to full alert. Two blocks later, they reached a run-down residential area. Ravi strode ahead confidently to a modest house, opening the gate and waiting for Eli to catch up. Eli jogged to him, copying his quiet, deliberate movements. He slipped inside and shut the gate behind him. On the porch, an obese man sat calmly in the shadows, sipping beer from a large plastic cup. He watched them approach with lazy, watchful eyes. He nodded toward the house. ¡°Ravi, you¡¯re expected. With your friend. Go straight, then left.¡± ¡°Sure, Josh,¡± Ravi replied, motioning for Eli to follow. Eli gave Josh a polite nod as they stepped inside. The door shut behind them. Outside, Josh took another slow sip of his beer, never taking his eyes off the darkened street, watching the neighbors from his perch in the shadows. *** Behind the Veil Ravi led Eli through the front door, and on the left just as Josh had instructed. He knocked on a door tucked away in the side. A small peephole slid open, and a pair of eyes examined them. ¡°Password?¡± a gruff voice asked. ¡°Jesus,¡± Ravi answered automatically. ¡°Christ,¡± came the response, and the door swung open. A muscular man stepped aside, motioning them in. A few steps in, a staircase descended into darkness. They were silently pointed toward it. At the bottom, they found another door¡ªunlocked. As they stepped through, the stillness was suddenly shattered by loud cursing and bursts of laughter. The space opened into a large underground room, buzzing with life. To the left, tattooed men were playing pool. Across from them, another group played cards. Scantily clad women weaved through the crowd with trays of beer. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Eli glanced around, recognizing no one. Ravi urged him forward. ¡°Soundproofed,¡± Eli thought. ¡°Makes sense.¡± They passed through the lively space and entered another series of rooms. Inside, men were hunched over tables, counting stacks of cash¡ªmore money than Eli had ever seen in one place. Sooner than expected, they reached the final door. It was solid metal¡ªimposing and clearly high-security. Two men in identical dark shades stood guard, arms folded with military precision. This time, both Eli and Ravi were frisked before being allowed inside. One guard opened the door and led them in. Behind a massive desk sat Jimmy, cigar in mouth, reclining in an oversized custom chair. He was on the phone, speaking casually. Without a word, he gestured toward the sofas. Ravi and Eli sat as the bodyguard shut the door, sealing them in with the boss. The room was decorated with expensive wines, bold artwork, and other markers of wealth¡ªeverything about it screamed success. ¡°¡­It¡¯ll be done,¡± Jimmy said, ending the call. He thoughtfully set the telephone down, stood, and walked over. Ravi rose with a wide grin, and the two embraced like old friends. ¡°My boy, I¡¯ve been waiting for you,¡± Jimmy said. Eli¡¯s jaw dropped in disbelief.