003. Did it work?

JAYCE BECKETT

My laptop was open, with a third can of energy drink sitting next to me, and I bounced my leg up and down. I scoured every known file in the system. After eight hours on my day off, I wasn't any closer to gaining enough information about my target.

Obtaining personal information about those criminals wasn't easy. I needed every bit of knowledge I could gather about the Marino family, especially Renato Marino, who was my main target.

Last night, after Curtis was discharged from the hospital, I had gone back to the chief and told him I was in on the mission. The chief had grinned at me, as if he had known I would come back.

I was desperate for money, and the chief knew it. I fucking hated that he could predict me, but what else could I possibly do when my only nephew was dying?

The doctor had advised me to make a deposit for Curtis's kidney transplant because his condition had worsened. If I checked my savings, the only thing they could possibly afford was a new pair of shoes.

"Fuck my life!" I groaned, crushing the can in my hand before throwing it across the room.

I glanced at Curtis, who was deeply asleep on my bed. A thought flashed through my mind, but I immediately shook my head.

"Nothing will go wrong. I'll make sure nothing goes wrong. Curtis won't be in danger." I grumbled under my breath as I pulled out Renato's information from amongst the rest of his family's profiles.

The subject is a 46-year-old male who exhibits misanthropic tendencies, specifically towards women, and frequents a local bar every Thursday night for a drink, typically attending alone.

Renato Marino hated women; I wondered if that was the reason the chief gave me the task - because he was worried a female agent wouldn't be able to get close to the target.

"This should do." I grinned, grabbed my car keys, and shut my laptop.

I went to Curtis, pulled the sheet over his chest, adjusted his head on the pillow, and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Uncle will be back soon." I sighed, took one last glance at him, and walked out of my room, leaving the door open.

On my way out, I made sure to adjust the security camera, so I would receive an alert when Curtis woke up, allowing me to monitor him and respond in case of an emergency.

The drive to Adam, the bar Renato Marino frequented every Thursday, was silent. The only sound was my heartbeat.

I had every reason to make a U-turn and go back home to Curtis, forgetting about this stupid mission like it never happened. But the thought of Curtis being in medical danger due to my failure to pay for his surgery kept me driving, with only one destination in mind.

Adam.

I parked my car and stepped out, seeing the bar in full swing from where I stood. People were moving in and out of the bar. I adjusted my jacket, patting myself down to ensure nothing would give away my identity, but there was nothing.

I appeared more like a street thug than a normal guy.

I adjusted my dress shirt, making sure my neck tattoo was fully visible as I walked into the bar. Cole always gave me a hard time about the tattoo, but I never knew the tattoo I got just to tease my best friend would someday come in handy.

The bar was bustling with crowds, and although this wasn't my type of bar, I couldn't help but grin when I realized this was exactly what I needed.

There was no better place for my plan to unfold smoothly than this bar.

My eyes discreetly scanned the room, searching for the individual I had made a deal with earlier. He was a local informant with a reputation for being ruthless in his business dealings.

In exchange for his assistance in gathering intel on Renato Marino, I had agreed to help him track down a suspect who had stolen from him. I spotted him sitting next to me at the counter and acknowledged his presence with a subtle nod.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and cautious.

Without turning to face him, I replied, "Are you still in. What's the plan?"

The bartender approached us, and I flashed him a charming smile.

"What can I get you, handsome?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I ordered two tequila shots and instructed him to put them on the tab of the guy sitting at the corner table - Renato Marino. The bartender's eyes widened slightly as he processed the request.

As he handed me the shots, I stood up from the stool and shrugged nonchalantly. "You know who I'm talking about, right?" I asked, my tone light and carefree.

The bartender nodded, his eyes darting towards Renato Marino's table before returning to me. "Mr. Marino?"

I smirked, taking a sip of my drink.

"Good. I'm going to get to know him pretty well." I said, my eyes locked on Renato Marino, my target, who sat with his eyes solely on a male stripper on stage.

The bartender chuckled, shaking his head. "He's bad news. You should forget about him and go for another man instead. He doesn't do quicky."

"We'll see," I smiled, walking away from the bar, but not before sharing a look with my associate, who nodded in response.

If that bastard didn't betray me, the plan should unfold smoothly.

I navigated through the crowded dance floor, miraculously managing not to spill the drinks. I stopped at Renato's table and, without waiting for his approval, took the seat next to him, handing him one of the shots.

"Cheap drinks are the best pick in a place like this." I grinned, tipping my head back and downed my shot. "Don't you agree?"

"What do you want, kid?" Renato Marino growled, his cold tone sending a shiver down my spine.

For a moment, I questioned my decision. This was reckless. I should just stand up and leave while I still could. But I couldn't abandon my mission.

Curtis needed my help, and time was running out. I had already lost my sister; I couldn't bear the thought of losing her son too.

Curtis was all the family I had left.

I steeled myself, focusing on the task at hand. It was go hard or go home. I would rather risk Renato's wrath than return home without any hope of securing the funds needed for Curtis' surgery.

"I..." I trailed off when I saw the dangerous look on Renato's face, it seemed as though I was proposing my own death by just sitting here next to him.

I could feel his hard gaze on me even though he wasn't staring at me directly. I could feel his hand moving, maybe to grab a weapon or something?

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat as I met Renato's gaze. His eyes seemed to bore into me, his expression a mask of cold calculation.

The air around him seemed to vibrate with tension, and I could sense the danger emanating from him like a great force.

He was watching the stripper with an intensity that made my skin crawl, his eyes fixed on him with a hunger that was both captivating and terrifying.

"I'm asking you, what do you want?" Renato growled, his voice low and menacing, his eyes never leaving the stripper.

His chest rose and fell with a slow, deliberate breath, and I could sense the coiled danger beneath his surface.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing as I struggled to recall my plan. But before I could respond, Renato's gaze snapped to mine, his eyes blazing with a fierce rage.

"I'm not going to ask you again," he warned, his voice dripping with rage.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Renato's gaze flicked towards the movement, his eyes narrowing into slits.

For a moment, the air seemed to freeze, and I sensed that I was standing on the edge of something very, very bad.

But then, it struck me. The plan was for the druggie to impose a threat on Renato Marino, and for me to protect him like a knight in shining armor.

I discreetly glanced in the opposite direction, where I had sensed movement, and my eyes widened when I saw the druggie among the crowd, his gun aimed at Renato.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath and quickly glanced at Renato, who seemed eerily calm next to me.

Did he not notice what was happening, or did he simply not care? Was he watching me, trying to gauge my involvement, or was he genuinely oblivious?

My mind racing, I considered abandoning the plan. Maybe I should come back to the bar as a stripper next time since he seemed to be interested in them?

But before I could react, a strong hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me down. And then, I heard a gunshot.

My heart sank. Had the druggie shot Renato?

That wasn't the plan. I tried to move away from Renato, but another gunshot rang out. This time, I felt a searing pain in my chest. Something strong and cold had pierced me.

I had been shot.

But why? I wasn't the target.

Pain washed over me, and my vision began to blur. I forced my eyes to focus on Renato, and I could swear he was smiling before my eyes shut. My body went limp, and I felt a needle-like sensation stabbing into my neck.

What is going on?