cold hearted | zabel

I

The cool breeze hits my skin, creating goosebumps. The night is dark, but the skyline washes enough light over me, guiding me to my destination. Although there's no present stars in the sky, there seems to be a twinkle radiating over the streets. Such serenity is contrasted by my heavy breathing, struggling to catch my breath in the midst of nothingness.

And it isn't until I start to hear the thump of some beats reeling in that it truly hits me, I'm here. I made it to the most notorious place in Miami, the underground.

Experienced by few, but known to many, the underground was part of a different life. Like a myth, its mystery reeled many in, but not many out. Because like the tale of Hades, once one enters the underground, they can't come out. But I wasn't planning on adding to that number.

I can smell the awful stench of sweat mixed with the dopiness of drugs. Continuing my walk down the path, I hear people yelling and laughing. With every step I take, my heart adds another beat to its rhythm. By the time I finally reach the entrance of the underground, my heart has reached the pace of the songs playing inside, fast paced and dirty.

I continue walking, hoping to head swiftly inside. But once I head towards the door, I see bodyguards surrounding the entrance. I wasn't planning on there being security, but I mentally curse myself for being so naive. Of course they'd have guards, this is a club Angeline.. I brace myself and continue walking with the utmost confidence I can deceive.

I check my digital watch and I see it's 10:00 PM. I have at least 2 hours to get some dirt on these men before it's no longer safe to be there. They're just drug dealers in gangs, no big deal.. I've dealt with worst.

I stop walking when I feel a strong arm tug me back. I turn around and see it's a guard, "ID?" I roll my eyes and with shaky hands I take out my ID. The man doesn't seem pleased and shakes his head. "Miss, you're not allowed here" he spoke with annoyance laced in his voice.

I roll my eyes and tap my heels, "You're mistaken, I know the owner and I could get you fired in one phone call, so move the fuck out of my way" I spit. He gives me a glare and backs up, while I smirk.

As I enter, I hear whistling going around, no doubt meant for the girls entering. If this were in any other circumstance, I would've gone to those men and told them to piss off, but this wasn't my leisure time. No this was my job, and if I wanted to keep it I had to compose myself. It's funny how I became a total bitch when my adrenaline kicked in, but when I was sane, I preferred to stay out of people's business. Lord knows I've had enough with the meddling, yet here I was, working as a private investigator, meddling for pay.

I grab my phone from my back pocket and check the file Vanessa sent to me with the information on the two men I was supposed to investigate. I wait patiently as my phone downloads the files, keeping me distracted from all the stares on me. Scrolling down to the pictures, I see two brown men.

I look at the man on the right of the file, and seem entranced by his composure. Even though his pose is a simple stare, it's a stare that radiated power and trouble, for no man that looked that good while simply being was a good man. His hair was slicked back and neat, contrasting the messiness of his attire. He wore some rings, but his greatest accessory were his tattoos, fully displayed by his three-quarter length sleeves. Zayn Malik, it read, leader of the Golden Nation.

I look at the next picture and immediately notice the differences between the two men. Abel Tesfaye, leader of the Black Disciples. His eyes were staring right at me, sending shivers down my spine. His clenched jaw and dark attire just added to his dark aura. Showing no signs of tattoos, Abel seemed to radiate more power and more fear, making him the harder target. It's a good thing I never back away from a challenge then.

Walking up to the bar, I spot the possibilities of the men I need to find. Spotting someone with a short and slicked back do, I sit down slyly in the vacant seat next to him. I can see the spattering of tattoos on his arms and his smell is musky and manly. I turn around with a smile and face him, eye to eye, breath to breath. However, the eyes looking back at me were grey instead of the caramel brown I had studied earlier. Well shit.

For what it's worth he offers me a drink, but while I accept it, I stand up with my drink and leave. I walk away with my head held high, turning my glance every few seconds to spot the two men. But as I'm walking towards the dance floor, I bump into him. The caramel eyes. The tattooed arms. And seemingly, the new hair he sported around, a fluffy cut. He was even more intimidating in person.

"Watch where you're going babe, don't wanna cross the wrong person do we?" He gives me a scowl, but his eyes shine bright. What a man.

But even though this man had me weak on my knees, I was a professional, and I knew better than to be entranced.

~~~

How's that for the first chapter? I'm so stoked about this story's concept, and I just want to thank Rachel for asking me to collab with her. This concept has so much potential, y'all are going to be SHOOK. By the way, I'm Liz and zaylena are my fucking babies.
-shadesofcruel

hey its ya girl rachel you already know ;)

vote & comment :)

until next time xo