VERTIGO

II

N.B. Spanish words and phrases have been translated within the comments.

***

3 weeks later

• Silas •

Solomon Mattias. I couldn't stand the man. He was a short, bald, vindictive little fucker; always on the prowl for more money, more women, and more fucking money.

"Valiénte." He had an abnormally high-pitched voice for the alpha male of one of the most notorious sicario gangs in Mexico, I laughed to myself.

"Mattias." I responded, my tone indifferent. 

"You're afraid. Aren't you?" He questioned, a smug grin gracing his thin lips. 

I raised a brow. "Am I?"

"I think we all know you are."

"Would I be asking too much of you if I insist that you elaborate?"

"Something's got you all shaken, Valiente. I hadn't expected to see this so late into the game; I must say, I'd anticipated it a lot earlier." He confessed all too proudly. "After all, it has been three years since you last asked for my service, so let me repeat myself: something's got you completely shaken and you're afraid - aren't you? Question is, why?"

The man was right. I wasn't shaken but I sure as hell was afraid. Afraid for my wife. Then afraid for myself if anything happened to her. But I wasn't going to tell Mattias that. When a man knows of your greatest weakness, you may as well accept that it is you who is at his mercy as your fate is in his hands. 

I just couldn't shrug this feeling of dread ever since the threats that were being made, were being made towards my Serephina. And every single time, they were within my grasp, they disappeared - just like that. 

"We aren't here to discuss how in touch I am with my emotional side. We are here to discuss how to take out an army. An army of men who not only prove a threat to my work, but prove to be a major threat to your dynasty. Take a look around you - are you prepared to lose all of this..." I began, reclining on the plush velvet seat as I gestured around at the grand hall we were seated in at the very heart of Mattias' resplendent mansion. "... Because you are too busy playing Dr Phil with the King of Mexico City?"

He watched me carefully, adjusting his tie which seemed to have started choking him at the mention of losing his well established fortune. 

"It won't be an easy job." He spoke finally.

I scoffed. "Did you expect it to be?"

"I'll lose a lot of my men. A lot of good men."

"Two things . You will lose a hell of a lot more than your men if you don't execute this with the utmost precision and caution. Secondly: good men?" I laughed loudly, before sobering up as I leaned across the table, facing Mattias dead in the face. "Good men, you say? How good are your men when they're sticking bullets in the heads of men who have their young children and meek wives waiting for them at home? How good are your men when they're ráping the wives of those who couldn't cough up the cash quick enough? How good are your men when they're snatching girls as young as five off of the streets and selling them to men like you to be used and degraded is ways unimaginable to the sane adult let alone a child? How good are your men, Solomon Mattias?"

He avoided eye contact, glaring up at one of his good men as if willing him to stick a single bullet through my skull. 

"I didn't -"