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Chapter 2

last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-05-23 19:00:02

Rodrigo’s POV

I’ve always hated resorting to methods like this.

Now I’m standing over a sink, washing blood from my hands while the metallic scent still lingers in the air. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. All I wanted was a name.

Just one fucking name.

Who sabotaged my consignment?

The idiot had an entire week to talk. I even promised I’d let him walk if he cooperated. After all the torture he endured, you’d think survival instincts would kick in.

Some people are just born stupid.

“Boss, we’ve disposed of the body.”

I dried my hands slowly with a towel.

“Good. Is the girl here yet?”

“Yes, Boss. She’s waiting in your room.”

After a night like this, I needed a distraction. Something to quiet the rage clawing at the back of my skull.

Usually sex worked.

Violence and pleasure had always existed too close together in my world. Whenever frustration built up, I buried it in expensive liquor, cigars, or women sent over by Esteban.

Mostly women.

Too many women.

Lately, though, none of them did anything for me anymore.

I entered my bedroom to find her exactly where she’d been instructed to be — sprawled across the sheets, waiting patiently like a gift wrapped for my convenience.

Normally that sight would’ve sparked something in me.

Tonight, it didn’t.

“Turn around,” I ordered flatly as I loosened my tie.

She obeyed immediately.

Good.

At least someone in my life still understood instructions.

I tried to lose myself in the moment, tried to drown out thoughts of the failed shipment, the money lost, the betrayal somewhere inside my organization. But the irritation only kept building beneath my skin.

Every sound she made grated against my nerves instead of easing them.

“P-please…”

The shaky whisper finally snapped whatever little patience I had left.

I pulled away abruptly, disgust curling in my chest — not at her, but at myself. At the fact that even this wasn’t enough anymore.

I sat at the edge of the bed and lit a cigar, inhaling deeply while smoke filled the silence between us.

Without looking at her, I opened the drawer beside me, grabbed a wad of cash, and tossed it onto the mattress.

“Take it and leave.”

She scrambled to collect the money before disappearing out the door without another word.

The room fell quiet again.

Still unsatisfied.

Still angry.

I rubbed a hand over my jaw before grabbing my phone and dialing the one man currently responsible for wasting my damn time.

“Esteban.”

“Ah, Rodrigo—”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to address me by my first name.”

The nervous silence on the other end almost amused me.

“My apologies, Don Rodrigo,” he corrected quickly. “I hope the girl was satisfactory?”

“That’s exactly why I’m calling.”

I took another slow drag from my cigar.

“The women you keep sending me are becoming unbearable. They whine too much. Flinch too much. Everything feels rehearsed.”

“My apologies, Don. I can send Madrigal next time. She’s one of my finest—”

“No.” I cut him off sharply. “I don’t want another one of your ‘best girls.’”

A pause.

“Then… what exactly are you looking for, Don?”

I stared at the smoke curling toward the ceiling.

Something different.

The problem was, I didn’t fully know what that meant yet.

“You’re not stupid, Esteban,” I said coldly. “Figure it out.”

“Y-Yes, Don. Of course. I’ll arrange something more suited to your tastes.”

I hung up before he could continue apologizing.

The silence returned once more.

I leaned back against the headboard, still half-dressed, irritation simmering beneath my skin. Then came a knock at the door.

“Don, it’s time for your meeting with Don Hermes.”

Of course it was.

My mood darkened instantly.

If there was one thing I hated more than incompetence, it was dealing with my father. And with the failed consignment hanging over my head, I already knew exactly how tonight would go.

He’d lecture me.

Tell me how he would’ve handled things better.

How there should never have been loose ends.

How I still had things to learn.

Fuck that old man.

I crushed the cigar into the ashtray and stood from the bed before heading toward the shower.

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