We're In Love || Nyla Harper

°•breaking point•°

Bold + italics = Spanish

Some little bits of Spanish will just be written as Spanish.. larger bodies of text tho have been written in English in bold+italics so that I don't need to include large paragraphs of translation for anyone who doesn't understand Spanish. If anything is wrong, let me know, (I'll change it!!) but equally if there's a longer paragraph that isn't translated then feel free to stick it in the comments and I'll add that in too :)

Also, public service announcement that I am fully aware that I have relocated scenes from episode 17 to be part of episode 9 - this is for plot purposes :)

So it's the fact that I've adapted part of said scenes to make them work best.

(It's like 10,000 words long by the way.. I'm insane. For the SECOND TIME I am in the tens of thousands of words... enjoy!!)

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

The club's sound-system was near psychedelic with the effect it held on its dancers. Despite being two months post-fallout day, Carmen could've sworn that her concussion had never left as her head throbbed painfully as her senses overwhelmed her. However, in spite of the pain, there was still something about being on stage and performing that made her feel in control - both of herself and the operation as a whole. 

But the universe had an awful habit of proving otherwise.

Julian had appeared at the side of the stage, staring up at her expectantly, "Private Booking, they requested you"

Her smile turned forced, keeping up the act as she finished her set with a flourish. The crowd cheered, oblivious to the anxiety tightening her chest as she climbed down from the stage, her every movement measured, as she wove through the throng of onlookers and towards the backrooms.

Julian followed closely behind, making sure nobody dared touch her, as he added, "Room three," his voice barely audible over the music.

"¿Y para quién es? (And who's it for?)" she asked, though she knew it must be the work of Emmanuel or, at most, his inner circle as Emmanuel had gotten less and less willing to share 'Anita' with customers - no matter the price they were willing to pay - unless it meant serious business for the Santos.

"Boss. He's in there with Curtis... apparently he's come into some business out of mexico," Julian informed, his gaze lingering on her for a moment as she nodded solemnly to herself before looking away. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, concern - maybe pity, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his boyish smirk.  

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the pungent aroma of alcohol. Emmanuel was lounging on a plush sofa, a drink in hand, while Curtis leaned against the bar, looking every bit the dangerous man he'd become since she'd last been alone in a room with him. Except, back then, she'd had Nyla to claim her and keep her safe. Now, she only had Emmanuel, and he saw her as nothing more than an asset he didn't want damaged - not a person worth protecting.

"Sweetheart," Emmanuel drawled, his eyes gleaming as he took in her appearance, "Come join us."

Carmen approached slowly, her heart pounding as she slid onto the couch between them, her body language relaxed but her mind racing. Emmanuel's hand found her waist, pulling her closer, while Curtis sat down opposite, his gaze intense and unreadable.

"So," Curtis began, his voice low, "I've been telling your boss about our time in Guatemala... specifically, your talents in a very.. particular area of expertise"