My room smells like lilies.
That's what I thought as I finished getting dressed in front of the mirror, having woken up earlier to urgently handle something. Seeing her stir in bed, I smile widely, turning and walking toward the sleepyhead, who was sitting up on my bed, stretching and focusing on me with her angelic face marked by the pillow's fabric and her messy hair.
— So this is how you wake up? _I place a knee on the bed, leaning my body forward and kissing the top of her head.
Lavínia closes her eyes for a few seconds and takes a deep breath.
— What a nice cologne. _Her face tilts, and she beautifully surprises me by sniffing my neck. — I must look awful.
I step back from her, circling the bed and grabbing my gun, tucking it into the waistband of my pants behind my back.
— You're perfect, little owl. _I compliment, picking up my gold Ballon Bleu watch and putting it on my wrist, fastening it and checking the time, immediately pleased to still have a few minutes with Lavínia. 7:03 AM.
— I shouldn't have slept with you. _She pushes away the sheets and blankets I had to fetch at 2 AM because she claimed she was cold, even though the air conditioning was set to 24°C in that winter, a pleasant temperature that created a delightful, cozy atmosphere between our bodies that cold day. I watch her as she drags herself to get out of bed.
— You absolutely should have slept with me. _My contentment is clear at her being in my room and my bed, waking up after simply sleeping with me.
I pick up her sandal from the floor on the side where I'm putting my chain around my neck and circle the bed, crouching in front of her and reaching for her small foot that doesn't touch the ground, one I was foolish enough not to have dared touch with my hands yet. Holding it, I feel how warm it is, admiring it for a few seconds, taking in her clean, hydrated foot, soft to the touch as I caress it. I curiously peek at her neatly trimmed, well-manicured red nails... I like them. I kiss her pale, white feet and inhale their scent. Finally, I look at her mischievously, little does she know she's given me a damn urge to suck her toes while fucking her.
— My lips are sore, Ângelo. _She says coyly, touching her lips, unaware of the depraved, lascivious thoughts running through my mind just from touching her feet.
I smile, slipping the sandal onto her right foot and then the left.
— Probably from all the biting we did all night. _I remind her, standing up and pulling her to jump off the bed and come to me.
After gifting her my snow, explaining that snow was, to me, a divine symbol of hope in nature, we ended up hating each other in our own way, kissing all night as if our damn lives depended solely on that, on the need for kisses. When we stopped to catch our scarce breath, it was already too late—I wouldn't let her leave my arms even if they killed me… and even then, I'd come after her. I reckon I can't bear to lose her anymore, not even to death.
— For a moment, I thought you were going to dare…
I cut her off, stealing a kiss.
— I know your limits. I tried once, you didn't let me, and that's the end of it. _I rest my hands on her waist. She stares at me, her gaze sliding over my unshaven beard, nose, eyes, and hair.
---
— Your bed is so white. I was terrified of staining it. _She shifts her amber eyes to my bed and sighs. I see in her sigh and expression that she wasn't lacking the desire to be taken by me, even during these hellish days women go through. If she'd let me… if she'd allow it… I'd fuck her so good… no fuss, no problem.
— We could throw it out and get a new bed in seconds. _I kiss her face, and she looks at me again, laughing and shaking her head, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around my neck.
— Good morning, Ângelo.
— Good morning, pretty-eyed little owl. _I rest my forehead on hers, closing my eyes and feeling her for a moment—her warmth, her skin, her breath. Sleeping with her doesn't feel like enough for anything. Damn it! What is this girl doing to me?
— I need a shower. _She whines softly, and I love that feminine whine first thing in the morning.
— The doctor will be here in two hours. I talked to him about you and managed to transfer all your hospital exams to him. _I reveal, reluctantly pulling my forehead from hers. She looks at me, scanning my entire face. — You can trust him for anything.
— You must spend a fortune on private doctors and hackers to bypass systems and keep everything under wraps.
— Let's just say yes, and it's essential for me to control everything. _I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. — Francs, euros, and dollars corrupt and buy the souls of many people, Lavínia.
She swallows hard.
— And you're so dressed up. Where are you going so early? _She changes the subject.
— I have to take care of something. I won't have breakfast with you and Faruk, so apologize to him for me, okay? _She nods and seems thoughtful. — I've arranged an unlimited additional credit card for you, where I'm the financier. It's already in your room. Use it to buy whatever you want for yourself and little Faruk.
Her eyes widen.
— Ângelo, my God! I can't accept… _She tries to pull away, and I stop her. Her body tells me she's about to get upset. — You can't buy me…
— Don't say nonsense or think such stupidity. I'm not buying you because you're no longer for sale. Besides, the other three killers have the same card. _I kiss her forehead, convincing her. She resists, pushing me, but tires of fighting and gives up, returning to wrap her arms around my neck.
— Are you coming with me to the headquarters tonight? _She asks.
— I'll do my best to get there in time.
She nods, agreeing, and finally avoids staying close, sitting back on the bed and looking around.
— Are you going to see her? _She asks, and I see her bite her lower lip, her cheeks turning pink.
— See who? _I don't understand.
Lavínia looks at me firmly.
— Sofia. I saw her call on your phone screen yesterday. _She finally asks what's been bothering her.
The smile on my lips is inevitable.
— Already jealous, "Miss I Hate You"? _I tease, approaching her, lifting my pant leg and crouching, touching the sides of her thighs and seeing her a bit embarrassed and ashamed for being caught red-handed with jealousy.
---
— How can you sleep with me, shower me with kisses all night, and then leave in the morning all dressed up and smelling good to meet her? _She questions, fuming, looking like she's about to strangle me.
— Sofia isn't my lover, and she's not here in Switzerland—she's in Italy. _I respond, and Lavínia goes quiet, lacking the courage to ask who she is, so I explain to reassure her. — She's the sister of my ex who passed away nearly four years ago in an accident. _I see Lavínia squeeze her eyes shut and hide her face with her hands, looking down. I remove her hands from her face, and her expression is one of wanting to cry and apologize. — She calls me constantly because she's taking care of something very important to me in Italy. _I explain cautiously and patiently, not wanting to say more than I should since it's not the right time.
Last night, Lavínia was very sad after learning a bit of my story. I reckon finding out I have a son in a coma, in a vegetative state for years, would upset her even more, especially since she has a little brother. She can't stand the thought of any child suffering—she cried last night because I was a child. Lavínia carries baggage where she sacrifices herself for her brother; she prostituted herself to keep him alive, and that was why I completely changed the course of my plans.
I may have gone through hell, but no woman deserves what Lavínia went through.
— I'm sorry, Ângelo. _She says sadly.
— I don't have anyone, Lavínia. I didn't lie when I said I was only sleeping with you. _I kiss her hands and stand, stepping back, grabbing my wallet and the BMW keys.
***
— Good morning, Mr. Ângelo. _Aurora, Lavínia's colleague who still works at the brothel, just arrived at the café where I arranged to meet her.
I stand, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it firmly with the hand I use to hold a gun, twisting the grip to make her aware I'm in control of the situation and that, for now, I'm suspending any danger that might arise if this conversation doesn't bear good fruit. A greeting gesture perfectly capable of showing how the conversation will unfold. A handshake that undoubtedly signifies the concession of my power. That's why confidence is key—the first impression always sticks.
— Please, sit. _I gesture to the empty chair and wait for her to sit before doing the same. I call the waitress and order two espressos, then turn my attention to the woman in front of me.
— When you called me here, I confess I didn't believe it. _She comments, her eyes still showing disbelief.
I get straight to the point.
— I need an informant inside that brothel. _ ~
System: I reveal the real reason I called her here.
Her brow furrows.
— But you already got Lavínia out of there. I thought that was all you wanted from that hellhole.
— I took out the most significant thing, and I'm over the moon about it, but now I need to go after those who hurt her. For that, it's crucial to know the moves of certain people. _I stare at her.
— The madam hasn't been showing up at the brothel. I don't know how I can help you. _She confirms what I already suspected. The old hag must be grieving her son with her very soul. I wish she'd gotten food poisoning from eating her son's human flesh and died for good. But I knew that wouldn't happen. The madam won't let it go so easily.
I pull an envelope with 10,000 francs from my overcoat on the chair and slide it across the table toward her. Aurora's eyes flicker, and she cautiously takes the envelope, opening it and widening her eyes at the sight of so many bills.
---
— Consider this an incentive just to think about my proposal. I need to know about the madam and her partner.
Aurora opens her bag and tucks the envelope inside, glancing around nervously as if afraid someone might see her.
— The disgusting old man who slept with Lavínia right after you? _She looks at me, and I see hatred swirling in the irises of her dark eyes.
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, caught off guard.
— He slept with Lavínia?
— You didn't know?
— I only started learning about Lavínia's life two months after sleeping with her.
Aurora relaxes in her chair, clearly relieved to spill everything she knows about the bastard.
— He's a criminal with heavy hitters backing him. I've never seen him in person. The madam forced Lavínia to sleep with him on a Monday night because the old man was in the country on business and wanted fresh meat. Lavínia had no choice—her little brother was in their crosshairs, so she had to sleep with that scum. _She confides, and I could dive into countless bloody tortures for that bastard. So many…
I tap my fingers on the table. The madam had said there were people behind her. The criminal partner must be the key to taking them all down.
— You know that if Lavínia was forced to sleep with anyone there, she was raped, right? Every transaction, from the moment someone is coerced under any act of violence, becomes rape. Lavínia was raped by everyone, and the fact that they paid for the "services" and she saw herself as a "prostitute" or "merchandise" changes nothing.
I never forget the day Lavínia told me she needed the used condom so those bastards wouldn't punish her.
Rape… it's all rape…
— Now it makes sense. Lavínia couldn't feel pleasure; her body showed signs all the time that she didn't like being violated. The madam had taken her documents and kidnapped her little brother. It all fits with what you're saying. She was raped…
— Not just her, but all the women who didn't choose that life, who were coerced and abducted, suffer this violence. _My tone drips with contempt.
She looks at me.
— You speak with such fury. You want to fuck up that damn brothel, don't you?
I smile because now we're speaking the same language.
— I want to set fire to everything. I can't stand that Lavínia went through what she did, and that I contributed to it.
— She was terrified of you. _She states.
— I paid for her and raped her. It's obvious she'd be scared and horrified to see me. I was as vile as anyone in that place.
— Have you told her it was rape?
— Yes. But she insists that I paid, and she was at their mercy. She saw herself as an object.
— All of us in that place think like that. We're conditioned to believe we're objects of desire for paid hours—they do what they want, how they want, and leave.
— In prostitution, you're conditioned to that. As long as the money comes into the house, it doesn't matter much what happens to you.
Aurora thinks and then nods, agreeing.
— You just need an informant to find out the madam's and her partner's whereabouts? _I nod. — Then we have a deal. You can count on me. _She extends her hand.
— If you double-cross me, you're a dead woman—be aware of that small detail. _I shake her hand and look her in the eye.
— I know what you're capable of. _She says.
I raise an eyebrow.
— Do you, dear Aurora? _I smile with disdain. — Or do you only know what I allowed you to know so you'd find yourself in the position of not refusing my request to come here? _I release her hand, which falls to the table, looking terrified and shaken. I stare at her.
— I know it was you who killed one of Lavínia's clients and one of the girls at the brothel. I moved into Lavínia's old room and saw the tiny cameras and bugs behind the furniture—none of them work anymore, obviously. You were one of the ones obsessed with her, but none seemed as cold and cunning as you. And once, I saw you leave the madam's office; when I went in, the old hag was unconscious from how much you beat and kicked the bitch. Only a man worse than all those people would face them like that, and you wouldn't do it if you weren't interested in Lavínia as a woman. You killed our colleague because she threatened Lavínia and killed the client because he gave her pleasure. You were watching Lavínia in that brothel like a true stalker, knowing her every move.
I say nothing, continuing to smile as I thank the waitress who arrives with our espressos.
— I wouldn't want to cross someone with psychopathic traits like the person you're referring to. _I sip my coffee. — By now, he probably knows your father had an accident that left him quadriplegic, and the medications are very expensive. _My cold eyes lift from the coffee to her, and she freezes. — I could end his suffering with a single bullet to the only place where your father still feels something. His head.
— Please…
— Or I could help him with whatever's needed to give him a life that's at least dignified. _I set the cup on the porcelain saucer.
She panics.
— I'll help you and be your informant. You have my word I won't fail. I'll contact you. Just leave my father alone.
— I'll be waiting. _I stand, unfazed by the fear I've caused her, but it was necessary for her to understand I'll always be worse than they think. I leave some bills on the table, turn, grab my overcoat from the chair, and walk out after looking at her as if her slender body could wonderfully become a beautiful mosaic of a victim's cuts.