[PREQUEL] (W) ᴜɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ ♗

15| Santos Son

A/N : same flashback guys, before last one🩷
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'' You were out that bitch like a light,''

I heard the younger Alderete quip at my side. A new hard day had meant a change in clothing, and from the loosely based professional the troupe had adorned, it couldn't have been more fitting for the man behind bars we were about to visit.

According to Damien, this had been the western gangster who had taken a beating before the east had a few days back. He had served as something valuable, WEIA couldn't have killed him. My curiosity grew in the same way Dom's eyebrows had when I stepped foot in the foyer alongside his brother.

I didn't necessarily blame him however; my presence had not been expected, nor anticipated when it came to seeking out one of the many prisoners that have been taken under.

But because these would have been the same set of agents accompanying me on priority; I took it upon myself to make the most of what it was like to squeeze myself in the triad anytime I got.

Yes, they would have touched on topics I'd have no say under–this being one of them– but I couldn't just neglect the opportunity to take a peek at what WEIA would have been expecting immediately after they were done with eastern affairs.

Reese led the troupe, a clipboard in hand as her uniform held tightly onto her waist. I thought, why would a witness protection member of WEIA be leading an exclusive meeting with official officers to the force and offenders?

The thought had about 10 seconds to marinate in my head before poofing.

The exchange of words between a bored looking receptionist and the staff had been short and quick.

Soon enough, after having the twins speak in exchange from side by side, we were allowed to get up and follow.

After walking for a few minutes, there was nothing but the acoustic of pure silence that had welcomed us as whole. I glanced to my left, smaller more empty cells were found tossed in the corner.

A medieval-like aura surrounded the WEIA's convicts–minus the torches–in tow. It smelt of ash and rubble, burning off your senses. Even in the short period of time we were here, I had actually raised an eyebrow at just how irritating the aroma wifted around me.

I couldn't have imagined just how detrimental the incarcerated had felt.

In a moment's notice, the twins walked ahead, faint Spanish cruising through their mutual genetic rasps as Reese had gained a little slowly. Matching my pace. The green-eyed Bajan meets me, a heartwarming smile on her face becomes so evident, I can almost see the tongue piercing behind pearly whites.

'' It feels good to have you back, Oz,'' My shoulders fell, a warmth in my chest blossomed; threatening to rise up to my cheeks. There—there was a sensation I hadn't felt in a really long time.