"Who was providing the boys?" Adrian continues to calmly ask, but I can see how much this bothers him.
"Jimenez... He has sex rings all over the East Coast. He arranges auctions, but..."
"But Martin got that list somehow." Wolfe nods.
"I see." Adrian stands up and puts the picture back in its place.
"You won't say anything, right?" Wolfe looks at both of us. Adrian motions me towards the door, so I stand up as well.
"Goodbye, Senator," Adrian says, and we leave.
In the car, the atmosphere is tense. And I simply had to ask.
"Can I kill him?"
Adrian's hands splay on the wheel, and he sighs deeply, his eyes determined.
"Yes." Well, that is surprising. Giddiness overcomes me.
"Thank you!" I grab his arm and hug it to my chest in an impulsive gesture. Adrian spares me half a glance before focusing on the road, but his mouth has the slightest hint of a smile.
We check into a hotel, and I outline the plan.
"This lasted less than a day. You were great." I praise him. Honestly, I was impressed with how he handled the situation. Not so impressed with how I hadn't been able to kill him then and there, but there's always tonight.
"You think you'll be fine on your own?" He asks after I tell him what I intend.
"I'd rather you didn't witness me...doing that," I add ruefully. I know that our working together on this case implies coming face to face with a lot of violence. At the same time, I'd rather he didn't have a picture of me killing this old man.
"If you're sure..." He doesn't look entirely sure himself, but I wave him off. I know what I'm doing, and now that I'm clean, I'm also much more aware of my surroundings. I can be in and out without anyone finding out.
Later at night, I leave the hotel room, taking a long-winded way back to the senator's house to avoid detection. Once I'm there, it's easy to get inside the house.
I go to the second floor where the senator's bedroom is and see him in bed with his wife. He's lying face up and snoring loudly.
My right-hand goes to my small pouch, and I withdraw a small syringe. I'd read up the senator's file and had noticed he had a heart problem. Then I'd realized what the best way to end him would be - a shot of potassium. A natural death for a foul human being.
Pity…
I put my left hand over his mouth and watch his eyes jolt open and widen at my presence. I give him a smile as I push the syringe into his neck.
As I watch, it doesn't take long for him to fade. I check his pulse with two fingers, satisfied with myself when I find none.
This wasn’t a rewarding kill. He got what he deserved for purchasing underage boys for sex, but he was already old and decrepit. Even if I could inflict more pain on him, his body wouldn't have taken it, so it would have been in vain. Pity... that he was punished decades too late.
I get back to the hotel room and see Adrian already in bed, resting on his side.
Is he asleep?
I slip inside and tentatively wrap my arms around him from behind, putting my head on his back.
"Done?" His voice surprises me. So, he is awake.
"Yes," I whisper.
His hand comes on top of mine, and I steel myself for the rejection, thinking he will push me away.
But he doesn't.
His hand just rests over mine, giving me a warmth I'd never genuinely appreciated before.
CHAPTER XXXIX
We arrived back in NYC early the next morning. After we'd communicated our findings to Vlad and Marcel, Vlad had been adamant about checking other names on the list.
"You need repeated testing to prove a hypothesis." He'd said. I hadn't been too happy, mainly because I was sure about it. It seemed pretty clear cut from where I was standing.
Those people had all been involved with Jimenez at some point, and then Martin had profited by blackmailing them. The only thing that we'd check for is whether all the names on the list were guilty of the same crime, or of different ones.
"But aren't you curious?" Bianca had asked when I'd brought up that point.
"Why would I be? These people may have been involved with Jimenez at some point. But that was over twenty years ago. Even if the information gave us insight into what type of businesses Jimenez ran, it's still in the past. I doubt that he kept everything the same."
"You're right and wrong at the same time." Vlad had said. "You're right in that the information would be indeed outdated, but you're wrong in that it would still be viable. A leopard doesn't change its spots, no matter how many years pass. And in our world, if you're good at something, you keep doing it. Jimenez has never been caught. He's never even been sighted so far. Law enforcement knows about him, but they can't catch him because they don't know what he looks like. If that's not success..."
While I saw Vlad's point of view, I really did not want to go about gallivanting and crossing each name off the list.
But Bianca had other ideas. And somehow, I couldn't let her go alone, no matter how deadly she thinks she is.
And so we'd paid a few more house visits, and for the next four days, we managed to speak to another six people, the only living ones on the list.
Again, none were too willing to talk until we proceeded with a little persuasion. Only one other man was involved in the sex rings, while the others were merely guilty of investing in Jimenez's illegitimate businesses or backing up illegal arms dealings.
All of which would look just as bad if they were to be released to the press, fact that we'd made clear to them. Luckily, even though we were required to use a little more force than we would have liked to, no one ended up dead.
In my book, that's a victory.
And so, here we are again, piecing everything together and making sense of the empire that Jimenez rules.
"His main sources of income appear to come from human trafficking and illegal arms trade. Not very surprising there." Bianca says after she finished making a diagram with all the people involved.
"And that's where The Block comes into play." Vlad drops this into the conversation casually, and we all turn to look at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I forgot to add that by wild, I meant that it's mostly used to auction people off. It's truly a dissolute dump, considering all that goes in there. But it's also one of the most exclusive auction clubs that Jimenez owns."
I frown at him. "And you just thought to mention this now?" What is Vlad playing at?
"Of course, where would be the fun of giving you everything served on a platter?" He tilts his head in a challenging manner, and without even thinking, I take a step forward.
Bianca puts her hand on my arm and shakes her head. It takes me a second to cool down. And that's when I remember Vlad's MO - quid pro quo. He doesn't do anything for free... Maybe that's why he was so adamant about checking the whole list. And whatever we found must have been quite crucial for him to feel that he owes us a piece of information.
I sneak a glance at Bianca to check her reaction, but she's as expressionless as always. She knows him well enough not to be offended by this. Or at least she's not showing it.
"What else do you know?" I eventually ask, trying to subdue my temper.
Vlad doesn't answer but opens the drawer and throws two bracelets towards Bianca and me. Both of them have a cursive B imprinted in diamonds on a round piece of gold.
"Those are your invitations. It's that exclusive. Wear them, and you're in."
"And how did you manage to get these?"
"I have my contacts. But does it really matter?"
Honestly, no. Vlad could keep his secrets since it was clear he had his own agenda and was probably pursuing something too. I don't care as long as he's transparent with us.
Which he isn't exactly.
It really makes me wonder how Bianca could be such close friends with him. Just as that thought takes shape, I remind myself that Vlad does not feel anything either. It's easy to forget that
when he mimics feelings and facial expressions so well. He almost seems normal.
When I look now at Bianca and him, I see a world of difference. Ever since Bianca hasn't felt the need to pretend anymore, her default expression has been...blank. There's rarely anything reflected on her face. Vlad, on the other hand, seems entirely too ordinary, even in a room with people who know he is anything but.
That makes him dangerous.
"Fine. Bianca, tomorrow we're going to Atlantic City." She gives me a brief nod.
As I turn to leave, Vlad calls out again.
"Don't you want to know what the crossed-out names were?" He asks in an amused tone.
"You managed to read them?" Bianca inquires, getting closer to Vlad.
"Yes. Nothing new, but Marcel and I confirmed that they all died around the time Martin came into possession of the list."
"We were thinking that they probably refused the blackmail and fought back. In return, Martin killed them." Marcel speaks, crossing his arms from the other corner of the room. I'd almost forgotten he was there, but then; Marcel always maintains a distance between himself and other people.
"Basically, the old man was the piece of shit we already knew he was." Bianca scoffs.
"Thought you'd like to know," Vlad smirks.
I announce that I'm leaving but not before I wave Marcel over for a quick word.
"I don't trust Vlad," I tell him.
I didn't trust him before, but now? I don't care that B's known him for ten years and whatnot. And it's not about me being jealous.
It's really not.
"I don't like how he just inserted himself in this. I mean sure he had some info, but... something isn't right." I tell him.
"Don't worry. He's difficult, I'll allow. But he's never screwed over Bianca and, by extension, he wouldn't mess with you."
"Just how well do you know him?" I ask, suddenly Bianca's words about their friendship ringing in my ears and making me doubtful.
"We were sort of neighbors growing up. You could say we were childhood friends." Marcel shrugs as if it's not a big deal.
"I'm still not sure... But if you say it's fine, I'll trust you."
"I promise," Marcel responds solemnly, the corners of his mouth going up slightly.
I give him a nod, and I turn to leave. I saunter towards my car as if waiting for something...
It never comes.
I'm almost pissed at myself when I get inside and start the car. I'd been waiting for Bianca to come after me and say something... anything really. Ever since we'd gotten back from Florida, she'd been more distant and emotionless than usual.
Is that even a thing?
She'd barely talked to me if it wasn't pertinent to the case. And after Atlantic City, it was unlikely that we'd be in proximity again.
When I'd found out about her double life, I'd decided it was over. It had been a painful decision to take because I realized that I'd spent years loving someone that didn't even exist.
But I'd done it. When I'd told her to get out of my life, I'd meant it. Who would have imagined that we would be thrown together again? I'd gotten a good look at the real Bianca these past few days, and while she isn’t the woman I fell in love with, she is... intriguing.
I know about her childhood trauma, and I wonder how much of that shaped who she is now. Because while I do believe she's not normal, I don't believe she has no feelings. Her moral compass is clearly screwed, I'm not going to lie.
But there are times when I see something in her eyes, and I almost believe she loves me.
Almost.
Or maybe it's my wishful thinking. How pathetic is that?
I get back to the apartment and get ready for bed. At least I know that Bianca has been sleeping at her own apartment and not at Vlad's. With my growing distrust of him, I don't think I'd be able to stand the thought of her there.
As I try to drift to sleep, I think of what the future holds. Finally getting Jimenez for all his crimes and giving my parents the justice they deserve. As for Bianca... I think the time will come to say goodbye.
The following morning, I pick up Bianca in my car, and we head to Atlantic City. When I see her carrying a massive suitcase with her, my eyes widen.
"What's in that?" I ask, pointing towards it.
"Everything we might need. Disguises, because we're not walking in there for everyone to recognize us; weapons, and other small things that should help us."
"Small things? I'm afraid to even ask."
She gives me a beaming smile, replying, "Don't."
I shake my head but start driving. It's a couple of hours until Atlantic City, so we start hashing out our plan.
"Remember, no killing," I add to make sure we are on the same page. Bianca frowns at me, probably because I'd agreed with her dispatching Wolfe. True, I'd been too disgusted by what he'd done to contemplate an alternative. But we didn't need to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves this time. The no killing rule should be enforced.
"Fine." She grumbles. "But if I don't get to kill anyone, then you don't get to act the hero either." Bianca continues.
"Hero? What do you mean?" I sneak a glance at her, and she has a challenging look on her face.
"As if you wouldn't try to save those people from the auction block. Please, I'm well aware of your good Samaritan syndrome."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I add, a little bit baffled that she'd think I'd do anything to jeopardize this when I'd been looking for a chance to come face to face with Jimenez for twenty years.
She turns towards me and narrows her eyes. "Sure. Whatever you say. It's not as if you haven't been helping strays ever since I've known you."
"That's not exactly true."
"You had six cats when I met you. Six. All of them from rescues."
"Those are animals..." I mumble. "And I had to give them up because of your allergy."
"Yeah, if it wasn't for my allergy, we would probably have more than a dozen cats by now. Who knows how many dogs too."
"Do you like dogs?" I suddenly ask, realizing I don't actually know the answer to that.
"I don't know..." She says. "Maybe... Some are cute... I don't know." She's fidgeting, and her answer is all over the place.
I just asked her if she liked dogs. I shake my head. Sometimes I don't understand her.
"Anyway, it's not just cats. Let's not forget that homeless man that you set up with a job and an apartment. Or the lost child that time during our date. You spent four hours looking for his mother. Four hours of our date." One look at her, and it's clear she's still holding a grudge.
"What was I supposed to do? I work in law enforcement. I couldn't have left him alone."
"You could have handed him to someone else."
"I didn't trust anyone else."
"See? That's what you always do. You see someone in need, and you have to go be the hero. It's not as if you didn't do this with me too. Remember that first dinner? When I was being picked on? It's a pattern." She's relentless. I didn't realize she'd been keeping track of this.
Truth is, most of the time, it's not even a conscious effort. I know what it's like to be picked on, to be the underdog, so when I see someone in a similar position, I feel like I have to act. This is also why my career is so rewarding to me. I've managed to help people so they wouldn't have to make tough decisions like I had to.
I know what it's like to sell your soul for survival, and it's something I'll have to always live with. If I can help one person avoid that type of fate, then it hasn't all been for nothing.
"Ok, ok. Maybe I do... have a tendency to help others. But this is far too important. I can't risk anything going wrong." I say eventually.
"Good. Then we are in agreement." She gives a brisk nod, and we continue in silence.
We soon reach Atlantic City, and we head directly to our motel to check-in. There is one word that can describe the atmosphere here - gray. Everything is so commonplace as if the presence of sin has erased a
ll types of color from this place. There are more dilapidated buildings than not, including the hotel we are staying at, and I can't help but wonder why Jimenez would have chosen this place.
The room we manage to get is a double with two twin-sized beds. For all its bareness, this place is packed.
Bianca drags her huge luggage and dumps it on the bed. She opens it and starts showing me what she's brought.
"You're going as Pink?" I ask when I see her pink wig and the outfit she used to wear at the Palace.
"I felt it would be fitting." She grins, and I purse my lips in response.
Of course, it would be fitting.
"Just for the record." She puts a finger up to get my attention. "I never worked as a prostitute there. I was just waitressing."
"Really?" I ask ironically.
"Yeah, I only served drinks. I did do you on the side, but it wasn't in my job description." She seems so proud of herself that I just shake my head.
"Why did you do it, though?" I never got a straight answer from her. Why go to such lengths?
"I wanted you. But you would have never fucked me as Martin's daughter. I had to improvise." She shrugs.
"Was it worth it? Living a double life?"
"Of course." She answers immediately. No remorse. Nothing.
"What else is in there?" I change the topic, not really wanting to dwell on her confession.
"These..." She removes a fake beard and a pair of glasses. "As well as these..." Next are some temporary tattoos on a piece of paper and a wig. "are for you."
"You want me to put that on?" I motion towards the long-haired wig.
"Yes. Don't worry. I'll make you look like an outlaw." She smirks and motions me to sit on the other bed. I look at her suspiciously but relent. We need to be discreet, so the disguise goes.
"Let's see." She says as she starts concentrating on applying the fake tattoos all over my neck and arms.
She then focuses on my face and carefully applies a dark fake beard before finally adding on the wig. I'd never realized how much work goes behind these disguises. Just the amount of time Bianca takes to make sure the wig is safely in place is astonishing.
After she's done, I stand up and go look at the mirror.
Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1) Page 24
