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âŠâŠ {7:25âð¬ð ððð ðŸðð}âŠâŠ âAny luck?â Nevena asked, her voice lowâbreath fogging slightly in the morning chill. The sun hadnât fully risen yet, just a pale peach hue, stretching across the sky like a yawn that hadnât finished. Ahead, Junior crouched low on the sand, poking at something with a stick. He had insisted that they take a gift with them before going to Antonio . They'd settled on a shellâbuying something might not measure up to Antonio's standard. He looked over his shoulder. âFound a big one this time!â he called, pulling up a shell that was more hole than shell. âLook!â Nevena walked along the tideâs edge, letting the waves lick her ankles. Her sandals dangled from one hand, her hair slightly damp from the salt-heavy air. âItâs beautiful,â she said, crouching beside him to take it in her palm. Junior stood with a frown, dusting off his knee. âItâs brokenâjust like the rest.â âSo are a lot of beautiful things.â Nevena replied, brushing her thumb along the holes of the shell. He squinted at her, clearly trying to understand. Then, with the seriousness only six-year-olds could muster; âMiss Nevena, weâre looking for pretty ones... the ones tourists, and conglomerates take homeânot the ones the sea keeps.â He reached into his bucket and pulled out the only perfect spiral shellâthe size of his palm. âSomething like this.â He handed it to her. She furrowed her brows. âWhatâs the difference? Theyâre all shells.â Junior kicked at a patch of sand, frustrated. âNoâthereâs a lot of difference. The ones the sea keeps are cracked⊠weird⊠kind of wrong. And itâs bad to give someone something thatâs broken.â He sat cross-legged, deflated. Nevena looked down at the boy beside herâso serious, and soft, all at once. She gave a crooked smile. âAnd you like the pretty ones better?â âNot really.â Juniorâs throat tightened. He looked out over the endless water. âI like the weird ones⊠theyâre just like me.â Nevena tucked both shells into the bucket, and knelt beside him, her fingers tracing the outline of a sand dollar. âEvery gift conveys an unspoken message... from the heart,â she began. âIt doesnât have to be beautifulâjust something that builds a connection.â Junior squinted again, not quite understanding. Nevena took out the broken shell and handed it to him, her touch careful. âNext time you pick a gift, make sure itâs something that helps the other person remember you.â There was a silence, gentle but deep. The waves whispered. Junior leaned close to inspect the shell. After a while, he beamed. âI get it now,â he said, voice brittle. âMr. Hunt must have so many perfect gifts in his life⊠heâs probably lost count of who gave what.â He turned to Nevena, eyes bright. âBut one imperfect gift in his collectionâwill leave a lasting memory of us. Right?â Nevena blinked, caught off guard by the strange wisdom in his logic. âYes,â she nodded solemnly. Junior stood and placed the shell carefully back into the bucket. Then, without a word, his small hand reached out for hers, no warning, just warm, small fingers sliding into hers like theyâd done it a thousand times. She looked at himâreally looked. His little face was smeared with sand, eyes wide with purpose. âShall we?â he asked. âWeâve got a homage to pay to whom itâs due.â Nevena blinked. The gesture was strikingly personal. The tide inched forward, washing over their ankles. She chuckled softly and straightened to her full height. âI think so,â she replied. They walked onâtwo silhouettes on a quiet mission, both a little lost, both a little found. âââð¬ðððððð'ð ððððððððâââ Silence settled as the caller awaited Antonio's reply, but got none, only the drizzle of the shower answered. Antonio stood there a beat longer, face directly facing the showerâhands on his hip Then, with one fluid movement, he twisted the faucet offâthe last drops pattered against the tiles like fading applause. He pushed the door open with the back of his handâstepped out with slow, unhurried confidence. Droplets raced down the hard planes of his chestâslipping over the shadowed dip between his pecs, down the taut ridges of his stomach. Sharp V-cut tapered to the corded tension of his thighs. His thick cock hung low between his thighs. Circumcised. Soft, and lengthy, relaxed but unmistakably thereâformidable, just like what he uses it for. Sin. He didnât reach for the towel by the hanger. Just stood there, completely bare. Chest rising and fallingâa full adult unashamed of his nudity in front of another man. âHandle the receptionâ he snarled, jaw locked, brows wildly furrowed like the caller's command bore no weight. âWasn't he specific ?â Grinch protested. âLas ballenas están hambrientas esta semana. Si no les damos lo que quieren, buscarán otra costa donde alimentar sus guerras.{The whales are hungry this week. If we donât give them what they want, theyâll find another coast to feed their wars}.â Antonio ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back. His fingers lingered at his jaw before he moved. Slowly. Each step toward his closet, flexed the muscle in his back, thighs and calves âthe powerful curve of his shoulders narrowing to a taut waist and lean hips Grinch caught the subtle weight of that gestureârage, brutality and stepped aside. Reaching his closet, he paused. Another set of white towels lay at the marble counter. He reached for the cigarette box beside it insteadânot bothering to cover himself. Still dripping wet. He lit the tobacco wrapâember flared against his scowl. Smoke curled as he took a drag. âAre you going to talk or just keep to yourself?â Grinch asked, matching Antonioâs gaze from the door. âWhy the heat?â There was no answer, rather he swirled, menacing toward Grinch. His meaty length dangling with reckless abandon, in-between his thighs. âPalooka{man}â Grinch throated as he got closer. "Talk to me." âGo away from hereâ he snarled in response, and half-pulled the mirrored door, shutting Grinch out. Grinch's eyes cut against the mirrored privacy door and he shoved it open. âI warned youâ. Antonio gritted, he swung at him, fist blurring. Grinch blocked, braced, pushed. But he attacks again. This time he grappled it, and the tussle escalated. âTalk to meâwhy the aggression.What happened last night?â Grinch wheezed, his grip almost faltering on Antonio. âStop playing with emotions. Traitors.â Antonioâs voice came out as a snarl. âPalooka. Let's tackle this calmlyâwe can sort thisâ âThere's nothing to sort. Let go of meâelse I will make sure you don't get to witness the beauty of the next hourâ. Antonio swore but Grinch persisted. âIâd never betray you. I swearâthis could be a misunderstandingâ âShut up Bastardâ agitated Antonio spat. He grappled ferociously and struck Grinch unexpectedly at the lower abdomen. The sudden gut-strike folded him. Free, Antonio ramped blows without missing any strike, until Grinch crashed to the wall. âStop it alreadyâ Grinch rasped, more of a pleading tone, not wanting to retaliate the unprovoked attack. âNot until every backstabber is out of my pathâ. Blade's expression turned grimmer, as he delivered a fatal kick on Grinch's chest. The room and everything swirled like smoke around Grinch, and he fell on his rare, spitting blood. âAfter all we have been through ?â He brittled, choking on his blood. âYou thinkâI'd backstab youâ. âEveryone is eventually showing their true colourâ Antonio counteredâslow, dangerous. âYou won't be an exceptionâ. Grinch bit his lower lip, holding back his disappointmentâhis hand instinctively shrank down to his holster, and he pulled his gun. He tossed the metal weapon at Antonioâstaking all his years of loyalty like an armor. âMedina family's lawâStool pigeons {snitch}, betrayals...they don't deserve forgivenessâ. âI was coming to that,â Antonio began. Wearing his rage as collateral damageâhe scooped up the gun with purpose, just like a man carved from the kind of life most never survive âBastards belong to one placeâHell.â He levelled the gun squarely at Grinch. Steel silence. Grinchâs chest rose, he could smell his death. âTell the devil I saidââHiâ,â he added with a lopsided grin. The pistol cracked. The round nicked through Grinch's arm, Glancing at the flesh, his fraying heart bleeds. âYo sabÃa que un dÃa me iba a morirâbut nunca se me cruzó por la mente que serÃa por tiâ¡Cabeza de coco! That hits duro.{I know I'd die one dayâbut it never crossed my thought, that it would be from youâBrain box! That hits hard}â Darkness closed in and he passed out.ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â°The holding room was grey and quiet. Breanna sat with her hands folded. Back straight. Eyes on the door.She found it hard to sleep or eat. She had always been the one to lock people here, but now this feeling of being locked was overwhelming. The waiting. The weight.She thought of who to reach out to, but none. The panel was obviously trying to bury her, so it was pointless.The door opened, and a guard stepped in. "Ma'am. You have a visitor."Breanna didn't move. She still wedged her tough personality. "Who?"The guard didn't answer. He just stepped aside.And in walked a woman Breanna didn't recognize. Sharp suit. Carrying a leather folder. No smile."Detective Stewart," the woman said. "My name is Elena Vargas. I'm here to escort you out."Breanna's heart stopped. "Is the hearing scheduled today?""Your hearing has been adjourned indefinitely. All charges pending review." Elena opened the folder, showed her the stamp. "You're free to go."Breanna d
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â°She sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped. "Nevena," she called, softer. "I didn't mean to be rude. Forgive me if it hurt you."Nevena shook her head. Sophia waited. Then she pulled Nevena close to her chest and consoled her. They just stayed there while the morning light crawled across the floor."I won't scold ever again. Okay?"Nevena swallowed. Tried to speak. Nothing came out. Sophia didn't push.Finally, her voice emergedâcracked, raw. "It's not that. We went to Antonio."Sophia went still. "Antonio? That's reckless.""Junior took me. He spoke some language I didn't understand and paid the driver with words." Nevena laughed onceâhollow. "He had Antonio's personal contact card.""That boy is going to put someone in trouble one day." Sophia seethed."He just wanted to tell his buddy that his mother was in trouble and ask for help.""I bet Antonio wouldn't pay an ear.""He said yes." Nevena sat up. "But there's a condition.""I know it." So
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â°"Then don't be a monster." Nevena's voice didn't shake. "Be the man who gave his buddy a contact card and told him to call if he ever needed you."Antonio exhaled slowly, controlledâ and dropped his hand. He stepped back. Just one step and turned away from her.He walked to the decanter. Poured two fingers of whiskey and drank it standing, staring at the drawn curtains."She arrested me, put me in cuffs," he said. "And dragged me to court in front of my own men. Made a spectacle.""She also did the same with me. I respected it." Nevena cut in."Forgive meâbut I'm not that merciful." Antonio obliged."I don't mean you forgive her. But she's facing the panel alone. They're going to bury her."Antonio set the glass down. "You think I can stop that?" He turned. "I'm not a politician, Tourist. I don't own judges. I own casinos and hotel contracts and a few people who owe me favors.""But you know people who know people." Nevena pressed calmly. "That boy gave
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â°The chief security led them down a corridor that whispered wealth. Marble floors. Dim sconces.He stopped before a door of grey wood. Pressed a code into a panel beside it. The lock clicked."Mr. Hunt's private waiting room," he announced, stepping aside. "He'll be informed of your presence immediately upon arrival."Nevena walked in without thanking him.Junior followed, briefcase in hand. The door closed behind themâsoft, final.The room was dressed in glamour. Deep leather chairs. A decanter on a side table. Heavy curtains drawn against the morning. One door and no telephone.Nevena stood in the center, arms crossed, staring at him. The suit. The briefcase. The contact card. For a split second, he looked like a miniature of Antonio."How do you even have that card?"Junior touched his breast pocket. "Buddy gave it to me after I met him about your court case. Told me if I ever needed himâreally needed himâto call, not to run to his house at midnight."
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â°Outside smelled of stale earth and cold wind. Nevena had asked twice where they were going. Junior hadn't answered either time, he just led her to the road and flagged down a cab.The driverâa thick-necked man with tired eyesâglanced at them. "Where to?"Junior leaned forward and switched languages like flipping a knife. "La casa de mi madre. El barrio viejo. Santa Fe." The driver's eyes flicked to Nevena, then back to Junior. A beat. A slow nod."¿Sola la casa?""SÃ. Ella no necesita saber la dirección."The driver grunted and clicked the lock. Junior reached for the door but Nevena's hand tightened on his shoulder. "What did you say to him?" Her pulse climbed. "I have a bad feeling.""Trust me." Junior turned at her. "We aren't getting into trouble."Nevena stared back. This wasn't the boy who'd asked for crayons yesterday.Trusting his guideline, she settled into the cab with him. The driver dropped the meter and they pulled away from the curb. Ne
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â°During Breanna's long absence, things ran smoothly⊠from science revisions to maths and so on.Sophia's phone dinged, one glance at it, she excused herself and left. After a while, she came back walking cold, Nevena snapped a gaze at her sensing something wrong. âDid something happen?. You look moodyâJunior tilted his head at Sophia then went back to his book, uninterested. âCan I see you out for a few minutes?â Sophia beckoned on Nevena.Nevena gave a curt nod, understanding that whatever it was, wasn't for Junior. She singled out a word problem and instructed Junior to practice with while she was gone.In the enclosure of Sophia's room, Sophia summarizes the trouble Breanna was in and the disturbing information she got about the possible outcome from a colleague.âMaybe we should call her up?â Nevena suggested.Sophia hesitatesâ a phone call during a panel hearing could go south, but Nevena's persuasion won. She dials but it goes straight to voicem
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â° Nevena blinked slowly, unable to scrape up an excuse. Antonio took sagely steps toward her, his eyes pinned to the camera. âLet me take a look,â he muttered. She instinctively pulled it behind her back â the only defense she could manage. But he curved his arm ar
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â° âYou need to keep watch on the kind of movies he watches,â Antonio throated to Nevena before carefully setting her upright.But his hand didnât leave her waist immediately â not until she found her balance.She cleared her throat and adjusted her position. âTh-thank
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â° Antonioâs gaze flicked away, cold and distant. âYou donât owe me any gratitude.â âReally?â She stepped toward him. âArizona. My kidnap. The fire. And nowâ Court?â Antonio exhaled slowly, tilting his head to look at her. âNevena. Do one thing theââ Her hands cla
ðððð¢ðâð¬ ðððŠðð¬ð¢ð¬Â°Â°Â° Nevenaâs heart tightened⊠but in a way that made her throat warm.âHey,â she murmured softly. âIâm here for you. Thatâs what matters, okay?âJunior nodded against her.A wave crashed far below, spraying mist upward. Nevenaâs gaze drifted over the ocean, its endless







