Chapter 528: Stained hands (1/2)
”I've heard skilled guitarist before. This one here is different,” she paused.
”Yes,” smiled she, ”-he has a lot of hidden skills. Can I assume we have the job?”
”Consider yourself lucky,” said she, ”-being endorsed by a music company is a dream for many musicians. The boy there has a chance at doing just that. I won't promise much. The modeling contract is yours.”
”Thank you for the opportunity.”
”Yes, yes,” she brutely leaped over the tiles, ”-follow me,” each stride was long and full of effort. Her forehead glistened from sweat – the light caught and hung onto the rectangular temple.
'Nearly mistook her for a man,' sighed he, '-won't hurt if I play a little more.' Strumming, embellishing a few chords here and there. In a way, grabbing the instrument felt right. Compared to the time where he had to guard Aceline, there, playing the instrument felt more of a curse.
”Igna Haggard.”
”Yes,” the strings muted, ”-something the matter?”
”Please follow me,” said the same short man of before. Handing over the stringed ax, they strolled down a corridor partitioned by heavy-black clothes. Eavesdropping onto the 'attempted wall,' revealed a dirtied truth.
”Are you refusing?” mumbled a commanding tone.
”Yes, if it means my dignity remains in place, I'll refuse more than once!”
”Fine,” halted the man, ”-I'll see to it the dream of becoming a starlet ends here. Climbing to the top is hard, and even harder for beautiful ladies.”
'Sexist bastard,' thought Igna, ”-Éclair, I want an image and details on who that man is.”
”On it.”
A sour taste forced him into increasing the pace.
”Casting couch,” said Éclair, ”-there are multiple reported cases of director sleeping with starlets for a chance at fame. Most of them grudgingly accept. Police here aren't reliable; most are corrupt and affiliated to the mob.”
”Well, it's a trying city for sure. What of the man?”
”Laven Enda. A respected director specializing in romantic flicks.”
”I'll remember the name.” Crossed onto the upper half, three figures stood before a white room covered by the same black partitions. 'Studio,' wrote on a sloppily attached sign.
”Stay here,” and so the short man walked towards a group of well-dressed men.
”Igna,” whispered Alicia, ”-you've done it.”
”Done what?”
”Don't you realize the opportunity given? This could boost you to the top instantly. I can't believe our luck.”
”I'm not surprised,” he smiled and patted her shoulder, ”-you foresaw the future.”
”No need to bring it here,” she shrugged off the hand, ”-there's a decision to make here. Chef or Musician. The ball is in your court.”
'Chef or musician,' he wondered as the group separated, '-I don't care about money. Anywhere I go there will be judgment, people will compare me to the best. What do I want?' the eyes shut, '-cooking?' the mere thought shook the heart, '-I feel nauseated. I can't do it,' he breathed. ”-A new life it is,” said he.
”Hey,” smiled she, ”-don't get so worked up. Who said you can't do both. Lord Amsey is a chef and director of a conglomerate, should be easy to manage as long as you don't care about making money.”
”Ha-ha,” he frowned.
”Lady Alicia.” A chubby man approached with sweat down the forehead and neck, ”-it's good to see you've gotten employed, considering the last incident.”
”Mr. Go,” said she, ”-didn't expect the head of Unda's Inc to be here.”
”Oh come on,” said he, ”-why take such an angry tone.”
”…” the fierceness froze as if bound by a secret.
”Well,” he glossed over the silence, ”-I feel Turi's disappearance is all too sudden. The police ruled it an accident. I wonder if there's perhaps more to the story.”
”Excuse me,” interjected Igna, ”-Is there perhaps something you need?”
”No, not really,” he smirked, ”-I'll be off. See you later, little whor-”
”Don't you dare,” side-glanced Igna.
”Huh?” he stopped, ”-what was that?”
”Igna, don't,” gritted Alicia.
”I said, don't you dare,” said he with chest, ”-one who doesn't have the reason to respect another human doesn't have the right to be respected.”
”Oh, my boy,” the tone came across as patronizing, ”-being new and full of justice in this city is a mistake,” the voice altered to baby talk at one point. ”Alicia,” he pushed the boy aside, ”-where did you pick up this fool?” he leaned to sniff her neck, ”-should I remind you of our time together?”
”I told you to stop,” glared Igna grasping Go's meaty shoulder, ”-get off her,” an effortless pull had the man shot back a few meters.
”Boy,” dusting off the suit, ”-are you sure you want to start a fight?” A crowd gathered to watch the argument, Alicia's silence damned her, the guilt of her past forced her to stand down.
”Not really,” said he, ”-if words don't work, then I don't mind exchanging blows.”
”Igna,” she forced a cry, ”-for my sake, don't. They'll kill you.”
”Oooh, it's too late to backpedal,” he laughed, ”-don't forget, little Alicia, I own you. I will take what is mine, and your part of the deal. Sadly,” *clap,* five heavily built men emerged out the shadows, ”-I'll take this boy's life as compensation for the disrespect.”
”Don't,” she broke free and ran, ”-I beg, don't kil-,”
”Stop right there,” he grabbed her arms, ”-what's my name?”
”Igna, stop,” she stared with teary eyes, ”-Mr. Go is part of the familia, he's a mobster!”
”I ask this one more time, what's my name?”
”Igna, let me GO!”
”Alicia, answer me, what's my name?”
”Igna Haggard,” sniffles marred her words.
”Good,” a tug pulled her close, ”-remember it.”
”BOYS, FIRE!”
”Calculating bullet trajectory. Igna, time to fight, they've initiated the first contact, I have sufficient proof to have the case ruled as self-defense.”
”Alright,” he dove towards a cabinet. Screams and cries permeated the warehouse, the gunfire brought panic. The guards kept on firing, Alicia's face froze, the bystanders made for the doors.