Chapter 2: The Golden Eagle

Sibelle

I have known Andréa since elementary school; she is a year older than me, extroverted, very funny, and always encourages me to step out of my comfort zone.

We are dancing on the dance floor, and I join our table to quench my thirst. Before heading back to dance, who would have thought, I love dancing and I enjoy the atmosphere.

- For someone who didn't want to come, you're having a good time, aren't you?

I am a bit tipsy, I sit across from her smiling,

- I loved dancing, we should come more often.

- That wouldn't be a problem, we're coming back next Saturday, says Rodrigo, who joins us accompanied by a muscular man.

He likes them with lots of muscles. Rodrigo is gay; his wealthy parents disowned him because of his preference for men, his father calls him a "mama's boy." They are following the same track as us, that is, accounting and management, at this university thanks to a scholarship.

We leave the club swaying, Rodrigo has ditched us, he left with Mr. Muscles.

- What do we do now?

- We are going to walk; it's not that far from the campus.

- But I don't want to walk.

- You have no choice; there are no more taxis at this hour. Come on.

We start walking slowly, just two steps from the campus, a vehicle comes speeding and slams on the brakes in front of us, blocking the way. Three armed men get out, lift us up, and throw us into the vehicle.

I wet myself; I am a very big coward. Andréa tries to struggle, but they put cloths soaked in a substance over our noses.

And then everything goes black.

I wake up chained in a cell.

What is going to happen to us? My parents won't find out that I've disappeared quickly; I call twice a week. And Rodrigo? Will he realize that we have been kidnapped? Lord, by your grace, help us.

The Golden Eagle

I get off the jet after a grueling trip. Going to the depths of Guatemala, a forest in Mexico bordering Honduras, El Salvador, and Belize, to oversee the production of cocaine and the cultivation of cannabis and marijuana. My scientists are doing a great job, constantly searching for new processes to improve the quality of the product.

I am the golden eagle of the world because I am the only one, the unique. You may wonder why royal; it's because I am a king, the king of the Mexican mafia in the shadows and the king of the best businessmen in Mexico legally, and the third richest man in the world according to Forbes. Why the name eagle? Because I am everywhere, I see everything and have ears everywhere.

My name in civil records is Carlos Castro Vargas, I am 30 years old, and I am engaged to the daughter of a mobster who controls Colombia and Venezuela. And since I need his approval to cross his territory, we made a deal. I take his daughter as my wife, and on top of that, he pays me a 10% share of his income. Even though I am a billionaire, I won’t turn down this offer. But I was firm with him: his daughter shouldn't think of finding a faithful husband; I love diversity.

I have two official girlfriends, four mistresses that I sleep with from time to time, and sometimes one-night stands. So he agreed.

I love life, the good life, because I enjoy the finer things; I deny myself nothing. When I see something or someone I like, I take or buy it. Yes, even a human being. Everyone has a price; you just need to click on it.

I own casinos, businesses, brothels, nightclubs, and clubs all over the world.

I mainly reside in Mexico City to better control my businesses, but I have a home in almost every major city in Mexico due to my incessant travels and the partners I host for meetings or contract signings.

I also deal in the sale and exchange of human beings, but mostly with consenting individuals living in poverty, who have fled their homes and aspire to a better tomorrow. I know that poverty is the root of all vices, so I try to help a little my neighbor and, in the process, make some money.

I get into my SUV to head home with my first collaborator. My assistant and secretary are already waiting for me.

- Good evening, sir, they say in unison.

- What’s the news?

I ask them, ignoring their greetings; greetings waste time.

My assistant speaks up:

- I sent a new shipment to "the dead one" to apologize for Rodrigo's behavior and to indicate that it was a compensation as you stipulated.

- That's good.

My secretary speaks up:

- New girls arrived today; the baroness wanted to know if you would attend the auction. Is there a virgin in the lot?

Hmm hmm?

- Tell her to send me the photos before the auction time, so I can see if it's worth making the trip.

- Yes, sir.

She makes the phone call.

As I get out of the vehicle, I receive the photos, quickly ascend the stairs, and glance at the pictures. When I stop at one photo, I see a face with eyes staring at me so intensely that I feel like she is looking right at me. I stop, and the idiot behind me bumps into me.

- Excuse me, what’s wrong?

- Tell the baroness that I will be there.

- Yes, sir.

- Be ready in two hours; we are going to the tavern.

I tell my right-hand man, who is named Mario.

- Something caught your eye, it seems. He says.

- It’s none of your business. You have two hours to rest.

- YES BOSS, UNDERSTOOD BOSS.

He replies with a salute.

- Have you finished laughing?

Mario is my best friend before being my second. He is an unconditional support for me; he was there when my parents died in a plane crash; we were both thirteen, and his parents were on the plane too; we supported each other. Over the years, our friendship has solidified, becoming more brotherly. I would give my life for him and vice versa. We have sometimes shared women. For the past six months, he has become more stable in his romantic relationships since meeting my current second secretary; it’s crazy love between them. In fact, I have two secretaries and two assistants, one of each for the legal world and the other for the criminal world.