บททั้งหมดของ Reporting from the underworld: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 27

Alejandro's POV I rolled my eyes as I dropped the phone.Pedro walked in on me talking into the house phone and he was not having it. He went on and on about how I wasn't supposed to do that. “I told you that the master is in a meeting. What part of that did you not understand?”“I heard you, did it occur to you that he might have called?” I said with one brow raised, “perhaps he had a feeling that you would bother me and he called to check up on me.”“There's no way he would do that?”“Well I for sure did not call him, I don't have his number remember? You refused to give them to me when I asked.” I knew that was a lie but I was sticking to it. It was extremely easy to find his number on that phone. A quick search of the word “master” and I had him on speed dial.Pedro stared at me deeply like he intended to dig the truth out of me with his eyes— it would be easier for a camel to walk through the camel's eye before he succeeded.He gave up a few moments later, “next time, I answe

Miguel's POV.This was the day I left for Brazil. I anticipated this for a while because it allowed me to get my mind off things.I got into the designated plane for the trip. It was a private flight and I expected solitude throughout the entire trip.I got into the plane and there he was, seated in the window seat,headphones in,eyes closed.I felt my heart skip a beat. “What is he doing here?”I took the seat beside him.He did not acknowledge meBesides me was the perfect portrait of indifference.I muttered a faint greeting just to make my presence and hopefully start a conversation with him but he was mute.That stung but I took it like a champ.The plane taxied. Lifted and the city shrank beneath us.Hours passed.I tried to distract myself, read, listen to music, and sleep. They all failed.My mind kept replaying his face when he said, “is that all you have to say?” It wasn’t all I had to say but I did not know how to say the rest without breaking his heart any further.Turbu

Alejandro’s POV I did not sleep, I couldn't. Miguel pretended to. We shared the same suite — because of course we did. Two bedrooms connected by a sitting area no one would use. Security outside. Ocean view beyond the glass walls. This vacation was now wrapped around danger. I stood at the balcony at two in the morning, staring down at the city lights. Brazil at night was softer. Less loud. The ocean moved like something ancient and patient. Behind me, I heard his bedroom door open. His footsteps were steady as they inched towards me. He stopped a few feet behind me. “You are sure you heard them clearly?” he asked. “Yes.” I muttered weakly, my back still turned to him. “Describe them.” I did. Height. Accents. Suits. The tone of their voices. The certainty. He absorbed every detail. “Journalist,” he repeated under his breath. I turned slowly. “They know who I am.” “They knew before you arrived.” “Well I did not think I would be in this mess, heck. Home would have bee