Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 3-1

I was happy to finally arrive at our destination. The trip with Yeraz had seemed to take forever. The big old building in the middle of the wilderness looked like something out of a romantic Hollywood movie. The two men in black suits were following us closely. There was no introduction, but I recognized the two giants I had seen in a photo a few minutes earlier on Ashley's tablet. Miguel had dark eyes, and a narrow and elongated face with prominent eyebrows, while Fares was slightly thinner with an aquiline nose. His square face covered with a thin beard gave off a certain roughness. Unlike Miguel, Fares had long hair tied back in a ponytail.

The four of us were received by a young, impeccable-looking host with a very good sense of hospitality. His elegant but discreet uniform gave the image of the cleanliness and good maintenance of this exceptional place. Never in my life had I seen so much domesticity inside a house.

Yeraz seemed to know the place well. He had just taken off his sunglasses and was following the young man with an orderly and confident gait, without even glancing around. At the top of the stairs, on the second floor, the butler turned to us to check if we were still following him before escorting us to our destination.

Male voices suddenly stopped speaking as we entered a private room after the butler announced us. I felt uncomfortable and wished they would all vanish right then and there. The dashing place, without any windows, was furnished with many armchairs placed in front of a huge desk. Behind it, a stocky, unsympathetic-looking man of retirement age was smoking his cigar without taking his dark eyes off us. His salt-and-pepper-colored hair, parted on the side, gave him a severe and cold look.

"Hello, Hamza," Yeraz said. "This is my assistant, Ronney Jimenez."

The man nodded to me, but didn't stand up to greet us. I recognized him from the tablet as Hamza Saleh. His hand indicated two free seats on his left, near his desk. Walking through the room with its vermilion-colored walls under the strong and hostile gaze of these men, each one more intimidating than the other, was a real torture that I inflicted on myself. I imagined the shock I must have produced in these people with my neglected outfit, my damaged Converses, and my horribly styled hair.

Yeraz waited until I was comfortable on my chair before sitting down beside me. At least he had some manners left. Hamza examined me from head to toe before declaring in a muffled, gravelly voice, "We have a problem with the complex, 'The Balearics.' The construction is behind schedule. We have invested a lot in this project. I have sent Asad to Chicago so that he can--"

Hamza suddenly stopped and turned his head towards me. I lifted my pen from my notepad, waiting for the next part, but the heavy, stern gaze of the man in front of me made my blood run cold. Yeraz said, "We all know that fruits and vegetables are best when in season."

"I prefer not to mix them in the same basket. Some rot too quickly."

I understood that the two men were speaking in a coded language. Thus, I couldn't transmit anything to Camilia about her son's business. Behind us, some men continued speaking about the fresh products of the market and the farm.

When we finally left the room, I thought my head was going to explode. We had been locked in that office for hours and I hadn't understood a word that had been said during the entire meeting. In the corridor, the discussions continued between the businessmen. Miguel and Fares stayed further back with the other bodyguards. I looked at my watch. It was one o'clock in the afternoon.

Yeraz was standing on the side, still fuming. His disagreement with Hamza a few moments earlier had plunged him into dark thoughts. The butler, who was walking between the guests, offered him a glass of whiskey, which he accepted without hesitation. I took a deep breath before approaching him.

"Mr. Khan? Will we be here much longer?"

The young man shook his hair angrily before answering me with a tinge of impatience in his voice.

"Yes, Miss Jimenez. Why? Do you have something better to do?"

My cheeks turned pink. His impressive authority unnerved me. I searched deep inside myself for the last crumbs of courage I had left.

"I haven't slept all night and haven't eaten anything since this morning. Mr. Khan, I am going to faint."

Yeraz looked over my shoulder and, with a quick wave of his hand, called the butler.

"A seat and a meal for my assistant."

The butler complied immediately.

"Thank you," I whispered to my tormentor, grateful that he wasn't going to let me starve to death.

Yeraz swallowed his drink and his eyes blurred again.

In the hallway, small groups had formed, but no one came to join us. These older and younger men seemed to fear Yeraz and his easily changing mood. I noticed, as I ate my hearty salad, that they were all wearing the same signet ring on their fingers. The skull and crossbones was undoubtedly their rallying sign.

"Miss Jimenez, take a look at the latest stock market figures, especially those of the 'Fidutive' group. Compare them to last week's figures."

I placed my salad on my lap and immediately did so while he worked on his phone and grumbling through his teeth, "Maybe I'll finally get him to listen to reason with this!"

A small, forced laugh escaped from me. I immediately regained my seriousness and started tapping on Ashley's tablet while carefully avoiding raising my head towards my interlocutor.

"I see you are amused by the situation."

"No, sir."

"There is one thing I hate most of all, Miss Jimenez. Disobedience and insolence."

That's two. I preferred to keep the remark to myself as I noticed the composure Yeraz was trying to keep. I apologized to calm the situation.

"It was not for you, Mr. Khan. I didn't mean to. It's just that you're finding a situation complicated when, to me, it is not."

Why in God's name had I said that? I should have kept my mouth shut and let the storm pass. Now his black eyes were staring at me. At that moment he was terrifyingly beautiful. I started to look around me. Except for this large hallway, there was no escape in sight. Yeraz, still standing next to me, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You didn't understand a single word of that meeting, but you think you can solve a problem that would be beyond you if you had all the information at your disposal."

"Sometimes, you can understand the person in front of you just by looking at them. You can learn a lot more about them by their gestures than by their speech."

"One of your theories?"

His tone full of disdain slapped my face. I looked down at my tablet and added, half-heartedly, "Mr. Saleh is a man with a childlike mind. He follows his instincts above all. If you want him to listen to you, be the last to leave the room."

I continued the research work that Yeraz had asked of me. The weight of his gaze on me weighed tons. Strangely, he didn't add anything.

The break lasted a few more minutes, then it was time to go back to the office to discuss leeks, eggplants, and eggs in baskets.