Holy Sinners (Sinners 2)

Mission 4: Innocent Traitor

So... what am I?

It was the first thing that came to mind after I accepted Adam's offer.

I was no Fortunello.

Lucky? A connection with them was a misfortune. Dog? And I didn't worship the Orleonnes.

So Lucky Dog, my ass. I am not.

Then Adam had another idea. He introduced me to the group as a 'new playmate'.

What the hell? Screw him and his wrong choice of words. But whatever they call me wouldn't make any difference at all. There's a distance between them and me, that's given. I was ignored, at least my past. There were no snickers, spiteful remarks, nor obvious repulsion. They just left me alone, possibly by Adam's orders. But well, there's Pink and Greco.

"Were you there on the attack at the headquarters before?"

"Have you ever fought a Lucky Dog?"

I ignore them most of the time.

"You're lucky you didn't meet us then. I would've killed you for sure," Pink said in certainty. I began assessing if it's a possibility.

But then, Greco boasted confidence too. "No, I can."

"A thousand bucks says I can."

"Deal."

The confidence was annoying. Obviously, the others didn't care about their antics. That's why I, the 'newcomer babe' as they coined, got all the unnecessary attention from the two.

They were the only ones making a fuss during the flight to meet the ever-popular Camilla.

So the little bitch is alive after all.

Not for long.

Thanks to Adam's generous opportunity, I could finally get her and her little boy toys, and I would grab it to my advantage. I was my own boss, and I watched my own back.

I could compromise with the Agency with this.

"You look excited," Pink said after we exited the plane. "Is this your first time here?"

"I'm not." Though nobody told me where we are this time, instinct told me I've been here, to wherever this devil's nest is.

"If you say so."

The convoy had been running along the coast for a while now. Overhearing the endless chatter of two brothers, I realized we're in Brazil, in the state of Santa Catarina, Florianópolis—a popular tourist destination. Well, in the art of hiding, reverse psychology worked sometimes. But those who chase after them knew that too.

The convoy entered a beach house with high, blindingly yellow walls. A sleepy-looking man welcomed us with underwhelming enthusiasm. He was even scratching his sides. He was tanned, probably from enjoying the beach. His dreads have always been notable in his files. Jah Howler didn't look a bit of a mafioso, but more of a surfer overdosed with the waves and freedom.

Actually, none of them are, especially now.

They greeted each other, Lilo complained about mosquitoes, and the house ahead of us boomed a lazy reggae song about sunset and love.

I couldn't help but be annoyed and be envious. All those years, we chased, tracked, and struggled to catch them with all our abilities, and here they are, like friends who met after a long time, separated by work and ordinary life circumstances. I feel defeated.

The house was huge and beautiful with the native weaved furniture, lightly colored brick walls and a high ceiling. It was cool, simple yet subtly grand, with a splash of colors here and there. Roaming around, I found an infinity pool on the roof overlooking the ocean. The house stood alone, a hundred meters away from the next villa. The lush emerald of coconut and trees almost surrounded it.