𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ✓ [𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄]

✎chapter twenty two × palm trees & poison

ᴄɪᴇɴғᴜᴇɢᴏs, ᴄᴜʙᴀ

━─━────༺༻────━─━

"Absolutely not." Angelo and Armando voiced in unison.

  I sigh and walk further into the room, flopping down on one of the chairs.

  "Okay, maybe I haven't considered the reprocussions, but what other option is there? Florence said 'no hitmen'. Where are you going to find someone willing to murder a drug tycoon for free?"

  Angelo walks over and kneels down. " Look, Sugar, self sacrafice is a good look on you but I'm actually not trying to get you killed." He seats himself next to me.

"Besides, it has to be me." His hands run over his arms, tracing the swirls if his tattoos that I've never really taken a good look at.

  His fingers follow the lines of a smaller piece. A name in dense black ink that I can't make out.

  "Florence wants me to do it. She won't say it outright, but she does. She knows how I feel about things like this and I doubt she'll be satisfied if someone else did the deed. We can't trust what she'll do, but we have more assurance that she'll keep her word if things are done the way she wants."

  As he finishes speaking, one if the men guarding the chateau walks in carrying a sleek, silver laptop and hands it to Angelo.

  He quickly powers it on and places the flashdrive I gave him in.

  Armando walks over at looks over Angelo's shoulder at the screen.

I curiously peek over as well. The screen is decorated in dates, times, flight arrivals and departures, hotel bookings and restaurant reservations.

  "He'll be in New York by tomorrow." Armando points out. "Then is as good a time as any." He straightens, adjusting his tie. "I'll be leaving today.  I've already put my son in a dangerous situation and I can't risk going further. Go to New York and do what you need to do." With that Armando leaves.

Angelo doesn't respond or even acknowledge his brother, simply staring at the screen.

I want to say something, but I don't know what my words will do. There's something deeper, somethig beyond Armando and Santos. I don't know what it is and I doubt I ever will, but I know it's not my place to ask.

  "Come with me." Angelo says suddenly, standing and walking out of the room. I follow clumsily after him.

  "Where are we going?" I ask, but I get no response.

  Angelo simply walks on in silence.

Eventually we reach a large glass sliding door. The dark glass exposes the green garden beyond. Angelo opens the door and steps out, following the gravel path lined with palm trees and white mariposas.