Shadows of Regret

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Unknown

The warehouse was cold and dimly lit, the only sounds being the occasional drip of water from the leaky ceiling.

I stood across from the woman tied to the metal chair, the image of Vincent Castillo in my hand.

She was trying hard to maintain her humor, even though I could see the fear beginning to creep into her eyes.

Her attempt at deflection was typical—people often used humor as a shield when faced with their own vulnerability.

Her accent was thick, her speech peppered with AAVE, and it added a layer of surreal comedy to the grim situation.

“Alright, alright, I see you got jokes,” I said, the faintest hint of amusement in my voice.

“But let’s get serious. I need you to put this chip into Vincent Castillo’s phone. No funny business.”

She looked at the photograph and then back at me, her attempt at a smile shaky at best.

“Vincent Castillo? Man, that’s some high-grade drama right there. What’s this, a soap opera?”

“Not quite,” I replied, leaning against a nearby crate. “More like a high-stakes game of chess. And you’re the pawn.”

She chuckled, a nervous sound that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Aight, aight. So, you’re tellin’ me, I’m the one supposed to slip a chip into this Vincent dude’s phone, huh? And nigga if I don’t then what?”

“If you don’t, your mother’s gonna have a very bad day,” I said, my voice as cold as the concrete floor beneath us.

She blinked, her humor fading fast as the reality of the threat set in.

“Wait, nigga you serious? You ain’t playin’, right? I don’t need no extra stress on top of this man.”

“Deadly serious,” I confirmed, watching her face turn from amused to alarmed. “You do this, and you stay alive. You don’t, and your mother pays the price.”

She swallowed hard, then tried to regain some of her earlier bravado.

“Alright, alright. I get it. So, you want me to just waltz up to this Vincent guy and be like, ‘Hey, let me put this chip in your phone’? That’s your plan?”

“That’s the idea. But make it look natural. We don’t want any suspicion,” I said. “And make sure it’s done as soon as possible. I don’t do second chances.”

She sighed, looking down at her bound hands. “Man, you really know how to throw a wrench in a bitch day. You think maybe you could’ve picked someone else for this?”

“Unfortunately for you, you’re the one with the job,” I said, unamused. “Any more questions?”

She shook her head, resignation setting in. “Nope. Just gonna do what you say and hope you don’t send my mama a bad ‘present.’”

“Good choice,” I said, turning to leave. “Just remember, no funny business.”

As I headed towards the exit, I could hear her muttering under her breath, a final attempt at humor despite the situation.

“Well, if this doesn’t get me on the news, I don’t know what will.”

With that, I closed the door behind me, leaving her in the cold warehouse with her thoughts.

The next step in my plan was underway, and I had little patience for delays.

The woman had a role to play, and whether she liked it or not, she was going to follow through.