belladonna | alejandro vargas ✓

【Chapter 8】

"What happened to your face?"

Beadie looked at Isabel's worried face through the mirror, her face expressionless. She was in the middle of applying the heavy makeup on her face while she tried not to wince whenever she touched the left side.

She came out with a black eye as a reminder from the previous night. Luckily, the gun mostly smacked against her cheek and her eye didn't swell, only bruised a little. She ignored the questioning look she received from the other girls and the way they whispered around her. She only concentrated on covering it up to her best knowledge.

But of course, Isabel couldn't walk past her like the others.

"I fell in the shower," Beadie replied, her tone even and void of emotions. She barely recognized her voice and even she was surprised by the dead look she gave to the other girl standing behind her.

Isabel chewed on her bottom lip as she observed the bruise on Beadie's cheek, most of it already covered by the heavy foundation. Her observant hazel eyes saw right through her lies but Beadie couldn't find the energy to care. She was tired, hadn't eaten in a day and now she had to pretend she didn't have plans to kill people tonight.

"You can talk to me," Isabel said softly to her, placing a comforting hand on the blonde's shoulder. The brush stopped mid-air in Beadie's hand as she kept her eyes locked with Isabel's but she didn't say anything.

Instead, she just continued finishing up her makeup by blending out the colors on her eyelids. Tonight's theme was purple, which was great because her bruise would fit in just fine. Fucking great.

Beadie was mad at herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings. But she learned from it, and she wanted to make sure it never happened again. Even though Valeria took care of it, whoever she was.

The blonde made sure she looked sexy tonight so someone would pick her. She took note of the girls that usually got picked: they had tan skin, long lashes, long hair and fantastic makeup. Her complexion wasn't pale, but she wasn't as tan as all the Mexican girls around her. She put on fake lashes that looked weird in this lighting, but she knew they would look amazing in the dim LED lighting down there. She couldn't do anything with her hair other than curl it, her blonde locks making her stick out like a sore thumb.

But maybe she could make this sore thumb work. Maybe it would help her with her mission.

As she brushed out her curls to soften them, her thoughts couldn't help but wander towards her team. She had no idea what Graves could be up to or how he could feel. In her heart, she hoped that he cared enough about her that he wouldn't wait long since she hadn't contacted them since she got inside. It was just impossible with these conditions.

A guard escorted them even to the restroom. What a joke, really.

Then she thought about Alejandro. The way his dark eyes narrowed at her and how angry he looked the last time she saw him. There was a pit in her stomach as she replayed the scene in her mind.

**

"You don't approve of my actions," Beadie commented, her tone light despite her hard-set face. It was hard not to let her emotions show.

Alejandro scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his biceps flexing. Beadie tilted her head back to look up at him, silently hating how much taller he was. She was 5'4 which wasn't tall to begin with. But the way he carried himself and straightened his spine whenever he talked to someone made her feel even smaller.

"It's dangerous," he looked down at her. Beadie couldn't hold back the eye-roll this time.

"Our job is dangerous, Alejandro," Beadie raised her chin, her voice determined as she narrowed her eyes at him. "That doesn't mean I'll just quit if things get a little hot."