Nare Navaro
Interest: Toni. Gavin. Cyrus.
round 3, wrapped up
bitter refuge
Middle of a night on a regular day in the week, she sits in front of blurry photos, laptop sitting on the ankles of her crossed legs. Nare stretches, moving her feet enough to realise she might have been sitting too still, stretching out a little.
She tries to make a sense of the photos at the moment, while at the same time she realises it’s almost 3, she should be getting to bed because there’s an early morning jog she already signed up for, and still, she is sitting there, zooming in and out.
There’s Matias, white linen shirt, white grin, very happy expression, very selected company.
Silvia is with them, too, wine in one hand, pushing through the evening with a very tight-lipped, anxious smile Nare could identify easily.
Rodrigo Garcia, the new chief of security - been there for around 18 months, but there are photos of him and Matias enjoying a drink somewhere in the Mediterranean. So, clearly a familiar figure to the Rojas’.
Amalia Barbosa, sitting right by Matias, hand on hand, hand on knee, hands all over, it’s easy to conclude who she’s there for, but the fact she is not an unknown name, but a very well-connected daughter of a very corrupt Brazilian politician makes her wide grin a bit more concerning.
Soto brothers, Guillermo and Manuel, made their money in import-export, or trafficking, depending on who you ask.
She recognised a couple of more faces in the crowd, but the small party sitting in the gazebo seems like the one to follow.
Okay, so, everyone’s been named. So, what now?
Nothing. Is this what it feels like to be left out of the loop, sitting at the sidelines and looking in? Maybe she’s been fortunate enough to bask in the warm sunshine of the spotlight so far, but the way it felt cold out her made her resentment slowly build up somewhere in the pit of her stomach.
She slams the laptop shut, getting out of the bed and towards the bathroom.
A warm shower, then some sleep.
the drawbridge is closing
Samar brings no news in the next few days.
The gathering at the family house seemed to have gone well for her uncle, and she considers it might be the time to go to the source of the information, but holds herself back, deciding to talk to her mother instead. Matias left the house, that much she knew.
“Hola mama,” she smiled at the camera, settling down in the chair next to the window, hair pulled back a little bit. Silvia - surprised - sat at the deck of her bedroom, which surprised Nare a little, given she didn’t spend that much time in her room while she was there. -“Don’t tell me you’re feeling nostalgic?”
“What do you expect me to say?” she smiles. -“How are you?”
“Good,” she lied. -“You?”
“Asides from missing you, all is well,” she says. -“But everyone shares the feeling, so we can share the sentiment,”
“I’m sure you can,” Nare replied.
“We had a little party the other day,” Silvia started, and Nare lifts her brows, faking some kind of surprise easily, nodding. -“You won’t believe who Samar spent most of the night with!”
Now she actually is surprised - brows go further up, she sips on the prepared coffee, a strange sensation in the bottom of her stomach starts to wake up and she shakes her head, impatiently.
“Samar? Our Samar?”
“Your Samar, yes!” she dragged the word out into a chuckle. -“Remember Lorena Soto?”
Even though she had no issues hiding her emotions at other times, she felt as if she did nothing of a kind at this point. She did remember her, who could forget the woman?
More importantly, who could forget her family.
“Oh my god,” she laughs awkwardly. -“I will kill him, he did not say a word,”
“It was a very small celebration, private—“
“Celebrating what?”
Silvia looks like a dear caught in the headlight all of a sudden, staring into her daughter.
“It might be better if he told you himself,” she started.
“Mama,” Nare slips into her heaviest accent, brows furrowed. -“Tell me,”
“We celebrated Matias’ engagement,” she is happy, Nare can tell, lips spread into a very cautious smile as she looked at Nare’s reaction. Split-second later, Nare mimics her smile.
“That is a cause to celebrate,” she mused. -“Sorry, I’m just sad I couldn’t be with you, that’s all,” she slips into sadness rather than this moment of anger, or rather disbelief.
“You’ll be home for the wedding, I believe,” Silvia replied.
“And who is the lucky bride?” she thinks of asking, although the answer has been very much obvious to her since late last night.
As he mother goes on about Amalia, about how she makes Matias happy, Nare is replaying the photos in her mind, wondering why she did not see the ring on her finger, if maybe Samar chose not to send her the photos, wondering if Lorena Soto was the reason he missed this crucial bit of the evening, or if perhaps—
“Where are you, Naressa Sofia?”
Nare chuckled, smiling for real this time around.
“Sofia join the conversation, okay,”
“Don’t be rude, hija,” Silvia pulled the mother card out of nowhere, and instead of reacting as she’d normally react, this time the nostalgia took over.
“Sorry, mama,” she replies. -“Please, continue, I’m here, listening to your every word, with so much attention,”
“Nare!”
“I’m serious,” she cracks a laugh, forcefully. -“Okay, so, Amalia and Matias, when did that happen?”
“Years ago,” she replied, nonchalantly. -“Apparently, Amalia’s father even shared this with Emmanuel,” she continued, as Nare sat there, in silence, a smile plastered onto her face. -“Something happened when they met in Portofino last year,” she says.
“Probably her resources and the fact her father holds every state judge in North and Northeast region by the balls,” she piped under her breath.
“What?”
“Just happy, mama,” Nare nodded. -“All of these amazing police officers he can use to get things in and out of the Amazonas,” she shakes her head, annoyed beyond reason, as Silvia continued chatting about this new power couple in the making without an ending in sight.
Suddenly, there’s a loud call coming from her side of the camera, Silvia perking up as it happened.
“Honey,” she says. -“I need to go, work waits for no one,” she said.
“Something new?”
“Same old, baby,” she said. -“Talk to you tomorrow evening?”
“Yeah,” Nare smiled again. -“I’ll be, well, here, as for usual.”
Gavin stepped into the room without knocking only a second later, Nare looking over her shoulder to see who it is.
“Rizzo, glad to see you, heard of knocking?”
“This hurts, Nare,” he says, walking past the vanity, casually touching a couple of things, picking up. -“I thought we were tighter than this,” he replies, opening a bottle of perfume, smelling it, before putting it back.
“Alexa, play Cry Me A River by Ella Fitzgerald,” she spat, closing the laptop, turning to face him, before stepping up and pulling the bottle of perfume from him, setting it back down on the vanity. He pushes her hair over her shoulder, Nare turning towards him, looking less than happy.
The song played in the background.
“Shit, who got to you already?”
“I’m not gonna talk about it,” she shakes his hand off, stepping aside. -“We’re done for the week, want to go light up and drink some of your lovely wine?”
“Sure, traditions should be kept,” he replied, but then turns around, throwing himself on the bed, prompting a hand on under his head, tapping on the bedding. -“Firstly…”
“This was very creepy, honestly,” she shakes her head, still annoyed, but he is relentless. -“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what the hell’s happening with you,” another tap on the bed. She gives in - or pretends to she didn’t like the turn of events - and lies down next to him, crossing her hands on her chest, flat on her back.
“You know everything there is to know,” she mused, biting her lip, glancing at Gavin. -“Speaking of things to know, we did this fun thing a while back and I’m still—“
Gavin chuckled, exhaling.
“You always do this thing, are you aware?”
“What? What am I doing?”
“Stop avoiding answering things,” he says. -“So, starting over, what happened?”
“What happened is that I left my home to be here, without wanting to be here, in the middle of what seems to be a fucking slow-burning coup,”
“Firstly, slow-burning coup—“
“Semantics, Gavin.”
He stopped, still examining her face. She looks at him.
“I’m sure you know a lot about the important people in my family,” she continued. “My father died a year ago, in a helicopter crash, and now, instead of me gradually taking over, something I prepared taking over my entire fucking life,”
“Emmanuel Navaro’s death was a surprise for everyone,” he pipes. -“Helicopter crash in the middle of a transition, it seemed like a freaky accident,”
“So, the word got out?”
“Of course,” he noted, Nare nodding. It made sense: when there’s a potential vacuum of power about to be brought into existence, word gets out easily. -“Although, he kept it from me,”
“It’s a slippery slope,” he says. -“Dangerously stupid decision to make, after years of making a name—“ she darted a very unhappy look his way, and he stopped.
Nare exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment.
“In any case, Matias, my uncle returned permanently now and he’s making a fucking come back to space he never actually occupied,” she continued. -“My grandpa never liked Matias, he thought he lacked integrity, he lacked proper intelligence for running a business, they never saw eye to eye,”
“And did it ever occur to you he might have decided he has had enough of this?”
Nare opened her eyes, brows furrowed, turned to him.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, cara, is that you might be underestimating this uncle of yours,” Gavin says. -“Just because you spend a while listening to someone not being good enough it doesn’t mean that’s the actual case,” he continues. It stroke some kind of nerve in her, but she keeps a calm face, closing her eyes once again.
“Enough,” she piped after a while, opening her eyes to see him lying beside her. -“Let’s chat about what the equipment picked up on,” she mentioned the bugs they set up earlier, prompting herself up to her elbow and taking a second tracing the light curls on his forehead, before slipping into a smile. Gavin seems a bit uncomfortable by the gesture, so she pulls back again, setting her hand lightly onto his chest.
“Nothing worth telling,” he said, voice cracking for a moment, and he clears his throat, slipping into a tiny smile too. Nare rolled her eyes, about to lift her hand from him, but he pulls it back. -“Nare, you already took a leap of faith here, why can’t you be patient for a moment longer?”
She scoffed, frustrated.
“I’ve been kept in the dark about so many things since I got here, I’ve been trusting, Gavin,” she says. -“My nerves have been spread thin, I am getting no news from home, I am getting nothing from you, and everyone keeps telling me I’m the one that should be more trusting and I am so to be here,” she finished.
“A moment longer, it’s all I’m asking,” he said, and she pulls her hand from his grasp, standing up from the bed.
“I like you, Gavin,” she concluded. -“I would not have waited if I didn’t like you, but I have my limits, and we’re slowly approaching them.”
“Noted,” Gavin replied, shortly. -“So, are we still on for later?”
“Of course,” she turns around, a smile on her lips. Just because you annoy me doesn’t mean I don’t wanna get high with you,” Nare smirked, walking over to her vanity, dragging a rolled joint. from a jewellery box. She throws the bag to Gavin who stood next to the bed.
“Let’s go get the booze,” he gives it a playful shrug, pushing the joint into his pocket.
Once inside, Nare realises she’s never been to his room. They spent time together, usually at the beach, on the docks or in her room, but she’s never been to the preppy haven of Gavin Rizzo.
He’s reaching behind the false background in his wardrobe, happily taking out a bottle of wine, turning towards her with a smile. Nare walked around the room, looking for some things inside the room. Gavin seems amused.
“This looks like something straight out of a romance novel,” he says, making her scoff.
“Read enough of those to know what you’re talking about, I reckon,” Nare teased, reaching the desk. There’s not a lot of memorabilia on it, but she figures the figure on the photo is his mother. Same eyes. She lingers a second there, deciding against her normal instinct to say a thing, choosing to continue onto the next bits and pieces of Gavin spread out around the room.
His handwriting was not the worst she’d seen. The taste might have been a little bit too preppy for her taste. He was really into luxurious stuff, that much they had in common. Outside here, she could have easily written him off as an asshole.
“Are we done with the tour?”
“You never actually gave me a tour,” she complains jokingly. -“My first visit to the temple of Rizzo,”
“Tours normally happen with a very strict schedule, and very predictable ending,” he chuckles, walking up to her. -“You know, a very happy one,” Nare laughs, shaking her head.
“Ay, amor, I imagine all of this works on th—“
“All of what?” he grins. She chuckled, looking up.
“The soft curls, the jock physique, this whole rich daddy’s boy persona,” she smirks, but his face shifted a little bit after that, he shifts from one leg to another, setting the bottle onto the desk. -“Oh, what is this?”
“You — not knowing the first shit of what you’re talking about,” he smirks, but she can see there’s more to what he’s trying to play off as a joke. She pulls him by the shirt, lips pushed into a smile.
“Don’t make me ask about your daddy issues, amor,” she mussed.
It could have been the fact there was something else behind his words, it could have been the fact she was feeling quite lonely during the long nights, and she could use a little bit of distraction.
“If I didn’t know better, I would read a little bit into this.”
“Read into what, Gavin?” she closed the distance a little bit, coy smile, brows furrowed, feign wonder on her face.
He pushes her hair back from her shoulder, sliding his hand onto her neck. Gavin got closer, but there’s a moment before they closed the distance when she flashed a smile as his grip got a bit tighter stepping into the kiss.
He had more violence in him than she assumed a gringo would have, there was a fun game of power struggle in each kiss. She enjoyed it.
A while later, they lay in bed, smoking the joint, sipping on the prosecco straight from the bottle.
but i don't believe you
The buzzing in her head was unrelated to the wine, to the pot, to anything that might have caused it: it seemed, lately, her only source of preoccupation was her family - there’s absolutely nothing that crosses her mind more often than Mathias.
For the millionth time today, she picks her laptop up, staring at the surveillance footage of the house, the moment when time skips for around twenty minutes, and she almost burns a hole in the screen playing find-the-difference game in two screenshots. Unsuccessfully, and also unsurprisingly, she did not like it when she was a kid either.
She lets out a sigh of frustration, wondering if there is someone here who might help.
And it hits her - far too late, but better late than never - people around here also keep information about everyone else. Appearances are nice and all, but she doubts there’s a lot of trust here.
Shoes, hair pulled back, phone on silent, she steps out of her room - the decision falls to the library. She barely explored the floors she was allowed to visit, who knows what can be found in the forbidden sections. Hidden room? Gate to somewhere else? Secret office?
Her own imagination amuses her as she sneaks into the third floor of the library, rushing through the steps on her toes. As she reached the top, she notices a light - someone was there - and unknowing of the floor plan of this space, she lurks behind a shelf, only to hear a voice coming from another direction.
“Can I help you with something?”
She rolls her eyes before turning around, a willing smile on her lips as she sees Cyrus there, holding a heavy book in his hand - behind him: a desk, one light, papers - and before she can say a thing, he spoke again, gently closing the book and nonchalantly putting it behind his hand, standing up a bit straighter.
“Maybe finding your way down?”
“Oh, maybe you can help me find a way down,” she added playfully.
“From this place, I mean,” he added. -“Which is off-limits to students, as you surely know,”
“Slipped my mind,”
“Shocking,” he replied. There’s a moment of silence, and she glances to the books behind him, making a few steps in the direction, Cyrus following closely after, unintentionally closing the distance between them in the process, as he shuts the book on top of his notes. Nare smiles, focusing on him instead of trying to sneak a glance at the desk.
“Making some fun world domination plans?” she jokes, remaining close enough to smell his perfume - it smelled familiar. -“Dark Lord?”
“What?” he asked, and all of her features lit up in some smug smirk.
“Your perfume,” she extends her neck a little bit, bringing her face closer to his neck, eyes glancing down towards the notes - it seems like some kind of chart, but not quite. -“Dark Lord by Killian, is it?”
“Jazz Club, but that’s hardly the point here, Naressa,” he replied, pushing the papers a bit off with his hand, setting the other book to the side. -“Is there any sort of disciplinary measure I can promise would occur that would speed this process up?”
“Is spanking on the table?” she smiled playfully. -“I mean, it can go either way,”
“This conversation is not fruitful—“
“Oh, I don’t agree, it’s the most fun I’ve had in a while,” she chuckled, a short moment of realisation: he drew some kind of lineage form. -“Fine, if you insist, I will leave you to your own devices,”
“I insist,” he replied.
“Still, next time don’t make threats you are not planning to act on,”
“There’s not going to be the next time,” he sounds relieved, hand still on the last book he threw on the desk. Nare shrugs, playfully, waving shortly before she vanishes down the stairs.
“Future is uncertain, Cyrus, who knows what might happen next.”
the mind is poison
The Chairman’s arrival sits weirdly with everyone - there’s a strange change of energy that happens, and she finds herself curious about the power balance happening in the school right now. Everyone seems to be on the edge, despite the very warm welcome Yussef Malik Faizon got from Lady M herself.
Initial pleasantries resulted in an elaborate Michelin-star-worthy dinner, followed by a cocktail party. It felt like the adrenaline was off the charts, some kind of combination of excitement, fear and pure uncertainty that gets into everyone quickly.
She realised early after their Saturday outing things have shifted out of balance, or supposed balance. The security has gone up. There was a whole bunch of guards checking the premises on regular basis. Cameras were set up additionally. And, in her own universe, she would find herself missing out on those random opportunities to run into Antonio.
Normally, she could have cared very little, only there was no agenda behind her interest in him, which was not a usual case. Flirting might have been a bad choice, or she overestimated her charm, but the bitter taste in her mouth felt…out of character.
But, it was another day - evening, actually - and she felt like talking to him again. He was about the Chairman the entire time, keeping to himself for the remainder of the time, which some might take as rejection.
Nare did too.
Still, she wanted some kind of closure - she can take a no for an answer, but she liked to hear a bit more than that.
“You seem to be having a very bad time,” she approached with her glass, sitting down next to him. He smiles, politely, and she smiles back.
“I’m afraid parties are no longer my thing,”
“Oh?” Nare crossed her legs, still looking at Toni who seemed to have had more interest in anyone else in the room. -“How come?”
“I’m sure the answer would bore you,” he smiles, diverting gaze from the room to her, only shortly. -“Let’s just say I’m not,”
“Very well,” she nodded, taking another sip of the alcohol. -“Maybe you can use some company, right now, no?”
He says nothing, and whatever masochistic shit she has in her keeps her sitting there still.
“I feel this will not be your normal form of communication, but could we speak honestly for long enough for you could tell me what’s with the cold shoulder?” she asks, after a pause far too long for a pleasant chat. Toni, somewhat surprised, looked at Nare, but she continues. -“Was I too direct, was I not direct enough, or am I just not that interesting to you?”
He looks at her, but instead of keeping this strict direction, Nare flashes a little smile. Tired one, perhaps.
“I won’t tell you to be gentle, but perhaps I am hoping the diplomat in you will devise the answer to this one,” she said, finishing her drink while he glanced away for a second after someone passed next to him, using the moment. She placed the empty glass onto the small side table next to the sofa, leaning lightly into the back, unsure if she’d like to hear the answer.
He seems amused, for a second.
“Perhaps I should take a lesson from your book of answering a question,” he started, Nare glancing away this time, as he leans into his place.
“What do you mean?”
“The clever way of not truly answering any,” he glanced at her, smiling a little.
“I’ve been told I should work on opening up to people, yes,” Nare acknowledged, folding her hands on her knees. She feels like smiling a little more, but the nervous sensation in her stomach keeps her from doing much. -“That’s it then?”
He seems a little bit confused right now. He seems like he is about to say something else, but she stops him, speaking first.
“In the light of this new honest policy everyone is eager to see me attempt, I’ll start,” she said, with a smile this time. -“The second I figured out we’ve met before I was officially initiated here, I knew I liked you, I enjoyed our conversation, no matter how many layers of allegories it was wrapped into,” Nare says. -“And, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but let me assure you that nothing came from a bad place.”
She feels like it might be too much already, but she feels like she is not yet done.
“And in any case, I could ask you the same, don’t you think?” she shrugged, realising it could be this entire place that is made out of a group of people forced into a falsely trusting relationship while creating paranoid individuals going about their days avoiding honest communication. -“But, that should be water under the bridge, Antonio,” Nare speaks. -“Should you decide to have a normal conversation with me, I’d be delighted. No pretences, no ulterior motive, nothing behind it. I am flirting because I like you, and I seek your company only because I enjoy it, no games.”
“Perhaps once our guests leave, we can have another attempt at making a conversation that sticks,” he says, and she feels like she’s been made an empty promise, but nods at him nevertheless.
“Let's hope that comes of it,” she threw on a charming smile before leaving him where she found him. Leaving the conversation much sooner than she wanted to, anyway.
getting ready for the showdown
Considering the circumstance of her heritage and the prejudice about Latin people, their customs and tradition, it seems like a very typical situation one might encounter in any decent novels made post-2010 when heroines were no longer God-worshipping saints trapped in the bodies and the wardrobe of your regular whores.
No. Nowadays, the heroines are contemporary women, flawed, agnostic, career-focused, sexual creatures willing to unapologetically enjoy a reasonable amount of sex within their story arch, which mightier might not be their end-game man of choice. More often than not, said heroines contemplate about the other man while in bed with a different one, not because there is something inherently wrong with the man next to her, but because of the simple and undeniable standard she can set: there is no “the right one”, there are no limitation and sex is to be enjoyed.
While one might argue this paints a very bad image of a contemporary heroine as an anti-hero in her liberation, most simply choose to ignore any kind of critical thinking, simply projecting their insecurities onto the content they consume.
Luckily for Nare, she was never a huge fan of the novels.
“Do you think the Chairman is here because of the upcoming election?” she asks, stepping out of the walk-in shower. She made a few more steps, turning towards Gavin who stepped out a moment later, catching a towel she threw his way.
“What?” he seems distracted, looking away from his reflection in the mirror.
“I asked if you think there’s something interesting happening behind closed doors with the Chairman? Possibly regarding the election,” Nare repeated, twisting her hair into a towel, heading straight to his wardrobe, looking for a shirt. She did not have to say it, but she had to know whose name was going to show up as the one representing the Rojas cartel.
“Not that one,” he said as she reached for one, pushing her aside. -“And, I have no clue,” he replies calmly, handing her a plain white shirt, she very casually tucks into her jeans.
“I want to know if the transition has been made,” she replied. She fails to mention the fact she is also curious about the shipment which was never mentioned again by anyone.
“Didn’t your source have any new information?”
“No,” Nare shook her head, before pulling the towel down, stepping back into the bathroom, digging through his hair products shortly before pulling out some cream, thinly spreading it into her hair, keeping an eye on Gavin in the mirror. -“It’s frustrating to sit and wait,” she said, leaving the bathroom. Gavin was back on the bed, laptop next to him.
“You have an issue with not knowing shit,” he chuckled playfully.
“Yeah, you’re the one to tell,” Nare bites back. -“If the situation was reversed, we would be somewhere on the side of the building, clinging onto the goddamn wall to plant…a. bug,” she finished, staring blankly at a spot above him. -“Gav,” she says in the end.
“Nare, come on,” he closed the laptop, sitting up.
“No, no Nare, no nothing,” she cuts him off. -“You want to stir shit, that’s fine, but when I want to find out what’s going to happen to me—“ hand tapping twice on her chest, -“suddenly, we are not doing anything reckless? Bullshit.”
Gavin looked at her, somewhat surprised and possibly disapproving of the scene, only she did not care one bit.
“I have no information, I cannot ask Samar because he is not allowed into any meeting and my mother is in love of the idea of Matias and would not conjure a possibility he is not working in my best interest,” she finished. -“One more bug, Gavin. I’m asking you as a friend, ” she says, seriously. Nare wasn’t sure what made him consider it, but he nodded his head in agreement.
“Okay,” he said. -“But this is going to be a bit harder, the only space he feels comfortable conducting business is the office Lady M assigned to him, and he’s there all the time,” he continued.
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying we’ll have to go in during the time he’s there, there’s a better chance to infiltrate than to break in,” he continued, waiting for her reply. Set in her way, Nare nodded.
“Fine, let’s just get it over with,” she said, returning to the bathroom.
Gavin made the plan - given the fact he’s been in the office more than a few times doing some random errands for Toni, he knew the layout and he had a chance to do some light face scanning for the people there - there’s an aid working for him that is similar in height and hair colour - Nare will use the new mask technology to go in as the woman. It makes very little effort to keep the girl distracted enough to replace her phone, keeping her working at the deck alone while Nare is showing up for the meeting instead. There’s a moment of nervousness that almost takes over. Gavin is sitting nearby, keeping his eye on the original aid, close by so he can stay in touch with Nare.
“Ready?”
“As much as I can be,” she says, walking from around the corner, towards the room.
“Chill it with the catwalk, the mousy sitting on the deck is not confidently walking into that room,” she hears a soft chuckle in his voice, taming it down a little. She grabbed the handle, two men on the outside paid no attention to her as she walked in.
To her surprise, the Chairman is not alone - Antonio is there, apparently just arrived as the man is gifting him with a nice bottle of bubbles, along with a hand-written message, and Toni gracefully accepts the gift.
Nare finds her place in the back of the room, near the entrance, opening her notepad, trying to detect a suitable spot for a bug while the two men conversed idly, chatting like two friends who lost contact ages ago.
“So, I take it there is no issue with Evelyn either?” he continues as Toni made some remarks on the recruits, and she tries to listen in, trying to play her part. The guards standing near her take notice of her presence, holding the semi-automatic rifles in their arms, glancing at her as she makes a space for herself, and she just smiles, politely, keeping her head down as she continues scanning the room.
The AR Five-Seven, used as a complete riffle here, was a lightweight model which could be a bestseller due to the power, ability to upgrade it to an AR-15 or M16 rifle. It had a straight blowback, the most basic, but a very effective kind, if the batch is properly made - if you find yourself at the aim of that combined with a good shooter, at least you’re sure it will be quick.
“I attempted to ensure she would not,”
“An attempt?”
“Unfortunately, I was overridden in my decision to do so,” he said. Nare looked around over the rim of her block, trying to figure out the right position when she feels a light buzz around her ears. There’s a glitching sound or rather a visual image of the mask in front of her, and blinks, drawing a breath just before a very familiar sound you’d often hear before a device dies.
Confused looks turn into angry expressions, and she stands there, dropping the notebook to the ground as the guards raised their guns at her. The Chairman and Toni both got up, the private security detail pushed the man to the side, all eyes and guns pointed to her.
Overwhelming rush comes to a still for a split second, or less, reminding herself it will be quick. She swallowed hard, lifting her chin in the hope it will cover this deafening sound of her heart beating its way out of her chest.
Her lips part for a moment, although she is not sure if she wants to say something, the eternity is cut short when the doors open, getting everyone’s attention.
The slow-motion movement of Gavin bursting in the room, laughing, burns into her memory, and he approached the Chairman in a few swift moves, saying the words, looking at her, glancing between them.
“Let’s not get someone killed,” he says with the same amused tone dripping from his voice, as she stood there in silence. -“Allow me to introduce you to Naressa Navarro, she’s with me” words slip his lips, he glanced over his shoulder towards her - the Chairman looked at him, shocked, before glancing over at Naressa, turning to Gavin again.
“Guns down,” he says shortly, looking at Nare up and down, a smile appearing on his lips easily. -“It seems like our new apprentice is younger and more reckless than we’d assume,” his attention was back at Gavin.
“I assure you, bold and daring are the words you should be looking for,” he replied, locking eyes with Nare, still in shock, who glanced away from his somewhat proud look, finally letting go of the breath she held in. -“Give her some time, I’m sure she’ll make you reconsider this small matter of semantics,” the smugness in his voice stroke a nerve in her. Nare glared at him, Gavin shortly looking back and finally, the buzzing in her ears stopped, she’s breathing normally, she relaxes her face finally.
“Perhaps,” the man said, gaze plastered at her for far longer than she would find comfortable. -“I’m looking forward to sitting down with you, Miss Navaro, later on,” he took a step forward, reaching for her hand. Nare takes a step forward, the Chairman’s right hand cupping hers, while his left reached for her wrist. His words seem sincere, his intentions did not.
He glanced back at Gavin, nodding once, before Gavin gestured towards the door, both of them escorted out of the room. She locks eyes with Antonio for a split second before getting out.
She jerks from the grip of one of the Fevoc security guards, speeding up as they escorted them right to the main ground. Gavin stops at the top of the stairs, a smile curling his lips upwards, while she moved forward, heading up.
“Nare?”
The sound of his voice felt like scratching inside her ears, she pulls the mask from her face, letting it fall to the ground, walking forward, much faster than she would have normally, trying to contain whatever started to burn in the bottom of her stomach from whoever is watching, and this school is not a private affair. So, she chooses to keep herself private, walking up. Gavin picked up the mask from the ground, skipping a few steps heading up, pulling out the headphones from his ear. She throws him a glare, looking down on the stair rest, skipping up a little bit faster, heading to her room.
“Nare,” he called out once again, a little bit confused, as she reached her room. She walks past a few people, briefly catching a glimpse of Inessa Vasiliev, who is sure to find out about the events easily, chatting with Tomichi Kato, but she quickly makes her way across the hall and into her room. Without missing a beat, Gavin walked in as if he owned the fucking place, which might have seemed like a smart move to him.
Then, the doors closed, and she turns around sharply, stopping him in his place.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
“What the actual—“ the fact there’s a genuine confusion on his face pisses her off, it makes her mad, and she can feel something is bottling up in the back of her throat.
“Yes, Gavin, what the actual fuck?” she hissed through her teeth clenched, not raising her voice for a single second, getting close enough to him to push him a little. -“What was that, huh?! Que sapearia, parcero? Is this how friends treat friends, is it?”
“Oh, calm down—“
“Get out, Gavin!” she raised her voice a second, getting back into his personal space. -“Get out, we are done, I am done—“
“Nare—“
“No!” she exhaled, strongly, silently. Nare shook her head, turning around for a split second to wipe a faint trace of what is about to happen whether or not he’s in the room. -“We’re done, okay? This is over—”
“There’s no return—“
“Fuck, Gavin,” the exhausted sounds come from the bottom of her throat, and instead of giving in to what she felt, she ends up giving it a short shrug. -“I don’t care anymore, okay?” she exhales the last word softly.
“Just get out, I’m done, and I don’t want to make a scene, but I promise you I will,” she crossed her arms on her chest. He stood there another second, before turning around. By the time he closes the door behind him, she’s already in the shower.
Outfits:
day-to-day sulking followed by
white birthday party on a beach and, finally,
a rescue mission that just turns to heartbreak.
would it be enough if i can never give you peace?
The sanctuary that was her room in the last few days quickly turned from a safe space to an isolation chamber. She’d call Samar and, occasionally, her mother, avoiding going out of the room for food or classes, normally exiting the room in the evenings, avoiding everyone and all for a day or two.
She’s alone and by her choice, yet it feels like shit, to put it more delicately.
Days were getting longer, she stays on the beach for a bit more than she usually does, keeping to the secluded parts, hoping for some magic epiphany at some point, breakthrough evidence, some misplaced bit of information that would just write out this entire thing.
Or better yet, just confirm what she already knows.
Is it a good thing to be certain of something, yet wait for evidence, or does it play into the theory you know subconsciously this is not the truth?
Perhaps something would have come to her, but she catches a movement in the corner of her eye. Tony walks into the beach, on his phone, having a very heated discussion with someone, and she tries to move. Despite thinking she does not care what anyone thinks about her, she did care about his opinion - and the look he gave her in that conference room with the Chairman… no point in walking down this memory lane again. She tries to get out, but she was spotted already.
“Avoiding me?” he says, not turning around just yet. -“Or are you off trying to get yourself killed again?”
“The night is young,” she replied, trying to make it sound lighthearted. She failed miserably, and the side-eye he throws her way feels cold.
“Take it you’ve—“
“I’m trying to avoid the subject,” she cuts him off, still on the outskirts, still far enough.
“It keeps slipping my mind you’re skilful at that,” there’s a hint of leniency in his voice and she feels her cheeks burning a tiny bit, biting her lip to stop herself from saying another thing. -“You’re free to run away now, Naressa.”
The issue was part of her wanted to do so, but a much bigger part of her was more than willing to stay and face the music.
“Would you mind if I stayed?” she mustered up the courage to speak, standing up straight to make it seem like she had absolutely no issue with this confrontation.
“No, I wouldn’t,” he replied. -“Perhaps you might be willing to answer me why you did what you did?”
She exhaled, more sighed, and he shakes his head.
“I am serious, and this is not any type of— sometimes, Naressa, people try to gently guide you, warn you, if you will,” he said. -“Get you to the right path,” he said, and it feels like reading a book and interpreting the lyrical words of an author who seems to have a better hold on the facts than she, the reader did. And it’s worth mentioning that Nare is not the most patient person on this planet and considering the fact she had never had to actually wait for anything, it’s not a surprise.
“What are you saying?” she asked, slightly annoyed, this soft warmth of her cheeks finding her way down her throat and into the pit of her stomach.
“That taking the most dangerous road is not always the one that yields the best result,” he replied, matching her tone.
“That’s a very easy road to walk when you have the information and you have your legacy written out—“
He chuckled, but it felt anything else but the light-hearted sound one should make - she stopped in her place, and he nods towards him, heading down the beach. They take a slow pace, cold wind hitting them.
“So, you are looking for information?” he asks. -“Or just ways to confirm something you already believe firmly?”
“Information,” Nare replies, honestly. -“I want to know if—“
“Would it help your cause if your belief turned out to be right, or wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a very simple question, Naressa, please don’t insult my intelligence, nor your own,” Antonio replied shortly, throwing her a smile. -“If your theory proves to be wrong, what then?”
“I don’t know, “ she says, skipping the part where she believes that is not the option. -“Would the right thing be to just roll over, give up on the legacy of my father, or whatever I should live up to?”
“I didn’t say that,” Toni replied very softly, glancing at her, and she avoids his eyes for a moment. He gives up, nodding shortly.
“It sounded like it,” she mussed finally.
“Sometimes we hear what we want to hear,” he replied with a smile, possibly to smooth the conversation over a little. She smiles back, trying to approach this with a bit more options.
“But please,” she says in a second. -“Indulge me for a moment: am I worthy of everything that is possibly being taken away from me?”
She wishes she was softer in her words, or perhaps sounded a bit more confident in them
What’s done is done, and in the true manner of someone who seems like he carries a lot more wisdom, he offers another solution.
“Maybe you should ask yourself if the legacy you talk about is worth what might be taken away from you along the way.”
It’s been a while since she’s had a first, but she was without an answer now - not in a bad way. He noticed, shaking his head.
And, for once, she considered the words being spoken to her in the best intention - she assumes, at least - breaking the gaze.
“Maybe,” she mused in the end, giving it a little shrug as she dug her hands deeper into her pockets.
And maybe it was.
sinking ships
There’s a movie playing in the background the entire weekend: she packs and makes it to Lady M to ask for permission to go home for a few days.
The official reason is the party for her mother’s birthday, and everything else is irrelevant - by the time she gets the permission and returns to the room, there’s a visitor there.
She cursed, very loudly, rolling her eyes at Gavin on her bed. He’s watching the movie, glancing at her as she entered, nodding towards the suitcases.
“Where are you going?”
“Get the fuck out,” Nare replied, slamming the door behind her.
“Oh my fucking god,” he exhaled, annoyed as hell, getting up. -“I gave you a few days to chill—“
“No one asked you to,” she walks past him, Gavin pulls her hand, and she yanks back, angrily.
“Okay,” he raised his hands, as if turning himself in, and she walks right past him. -“Are you for real, Nare?”
“Are you?” she turns around, brows furrowed and she looks at his annoyed expression - it matches hers.
“I’m serious,” he replied, pacing towards the door faster than she is, slamming them back as she tries to open them. -“You get to act all hurt and angry after you’ve shown me no trust? Really?”
“Really!” she hissed. -“I showed you no trust? You let me get into that room knowing well enough they would not hesitate—no, no!” she raised her hand to him, and pushed him a little. -“You let me go inside and you knew what would happen! Your fucking little team was there, and the only idiot in this story—“
“You think I let you go inside with a faulty mask?” his brows are furrowed, and if she did not know better, she’d say he felt hurt? Confused at his expression, she takes a step back, brows furrowed and lips pursed into a spot. -“You’re out of your fucking mind, Naressa!” Gavin spat.
“Oh, am I?” she scoffed mockingly.
“Yes, yes you are!” he looks angry and somewhat confused, but mostly angry and surprised. -“What kind of fuckery is this? You honestly think I would have risked your fucking life— and for what?”
And then, twice in two days, she is really without something to say. She’d like to say yes, but for whatever reason, she can’t bring herself to do so.
“You know what?” he looked at her, inhaling deeply. -“Fuck you. Fuck you for assuming the absolute worst the second you don’t know every single detail—“
“Oh, every single detail? You mean, any bit of information?” she spat, scoffing, getting railed again. -“You give me breadcrumbs, Gavin, and demand my full trust, and honestly, for a while, you had all of it—“ she shrugged, annoyed, angrily rubbing her template, shortly closing her eyes. -“Just trust me, you said, more than once, and I did, and then I walk into a fucking lion’s den, and I almost don’t—you could have told me something,” she finally says, calming down by the end of the sentence. Words, no matter how angry she wishes they were, come out sadder than she would have liked to admit, and she feels a sting behind her eyes. -“You want my trust, but I don’t get yours?”
Nothing is coming from him - but they both seem calmer.
“How is that—“ she shrugged, blinking, collecting herself again. -“Whatever this fucking thing is?”
“Yeah, I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” he replied. -“I thought—I care about you, even after all of this.”
She scoffed, annoyed.
“Oh my fucking god,” he rolled his eyes again, tensions rising again, his gestures becoming bigger. -“How are you this stubborn? What do you want me to say, huh? The second I realised the mask was broken, I went in immediately, did you honestly think I would do that to you?”
Nare remains silent, crossing her hands on her chest, swallowing her emotions instead of saying something else. Surprising herself, she feels heaviness instead of relief of throwing all of this out of herself, and looks up, lips firmly shut. She diverts her gaze as he looks at her, afraid she might show any emotion at all, and Gavin scoffs.
“Very well,” he says, with the more disappointed look on his face, exhaling and as she sensed he might exit. Nare extended her hand, nudging him lightly away.
“No,” she shook her head. -“You don’t get to get out of this room on a high note—“
He chuckled this time, reaching for her hand.
“Oh, but I think I do,” he says, nodding. -“If you feel like talking when you come back, you know where to find me,” he opened the door, dropping her hand.
the questions you used to avoid
She is spiralling over something she has absolutely no agency in. But instead of going a wild drug rampage, diving headfirst into anger, or simply acting on her worst impulses, she is attending a week-long party on a private island in the middle of nowhere. In a white dress, nevertheless.
Everyone is tanned enough, drunk enough, delusional enough to enjoy without considering there is enough power in this bubble that if there was a massacre now, there would be huge vacuums of power left empty in the world. An odd train of thought, but she is spiralling and two go hand in hand easily.
As she is, with this person she met five days ago while she was avoiding moving while doing mental gymnastics, jumping around theories in her mind, living out a very psychotic vibe from the outlines of the party. Her name is Oksana, her family is Lebedev, her hair is strawberry blonde and she has had just enough work done to make her feel naturally perfect.
No, Nare isn’t judging, she’s admiring.
Besides, it was not important five days ago, it’s definitely not important now.
Ana, as she calls herself, is there to have fun, to flirt, to make new friends, and Nare loves new friends, no? Well, now she does, and while Ana is getting drinks for both, and enjoying an occasional snort of the best cocaine, Nare is still doing her routine.
Silvia and Amalia are an inseparable duo, the hostesses of this splendour, and Mathias is the wise figure, watching the show with a prideful smile curling his lips, occasionally raising a cup when his eyes meet the ones of his insane niece who keeps an eye on him a lot.
Nare always smiles back and goes back to pretending she is listening to whatever Ana is saying, pushing her hair behind her ears, knitting her brows just a little, nodding lightly, feeling heavier than usual, keeping up the appearance of interest. They drink cocktails, they spend far too much time together, they get excluded from some conversations, and in those moments when she wants to slip all of it, she makes her way back to the bay on the other side of this little set-up and wonders if she’ll end up stumbling into some answers on her way there. Or back.
Instead of mingling around, she is wondering if she could make a break for it - well, just take a boat and drive to the shore, nothing quite as adventurous about it - but the attention she pays her uncle is equal to that he pays her: he’s around, somehow, all the time.
And in the middle of a very good set, on a dance floor, with Ana’s hand on the small of her back, she breaks out of her loop, into this group illusion, deciding to let her mind rest, ground her worries, and accidentally, it was the third day she was there.
The sun is high on the beach where she recovers from not sleeping enough, her body giving a very clear sigh out, tension leaving her just in time Silvia appears to reclaim her role of a mother, to talk, to ask, to answer - and Nare would be lying if she did not admit that for a second it felt good and normal. Soak up the sun, talk to her mother, listen to some uncomfortable questions about her love life.
Ana kissed her on the fourth day, and Nare kisses her back - there is no world outside this island, and there’s a magic combination of opiates and a woman who knows what she wants. It feels like a real relationship in the same way a hotel feels like home - comfort is there, but it comes with an inevitable eviction date.
Nare tries to convince herself that this is all good, grasping to the sense of all being well, normality, carelessness. She manages to convince herself there is nothing wrong with just making this a default, the reality. Why would it not be the reality?
Then, another voice emerges: is this really an option?
She realises another part of her would rather throw herself in this new life rather than return to the life she made for herself just because it would be easier. But what does that mean?
She left Colombia on the seventh day, returning to Mass Acres as expected, responsibilities need to be handled, the commitment has been made, the reality is what it is, and the life is built. It’s certainly easier than most people’s, so there is nothing to do but sip some wine on her flight back - take her responsibility, take control.
give me a day or two to think of something clever
She sat on the veranda, legs folded under her, catching the rays of the sun as she settled in the furthermost corner that overlooked the place - and this time, there’s a book in her hand. The music playing softly in her ears is silent enough, she tries not to check her phone, there’s very little she is focusing on right now.
Tries to, at least. There’s a very clear view of the dining hall and it’s only been a minute since they stepped in, but she can’t look away.
Miranda Collins-Rizzo had that glow of a second wife about her, Nare remembers from a conversation by the beach that Gavin did mention his father had more children asides from him, but this woman - she looked like she never had a child, life, worries, for any fucking kind of eventfulness in her life if you did not include lavish travel and luxuries of everyday life. Nare catches herself glancing over the edge of her book, an innocent bystander to the family portrait taking place inside. The sun passing through the large windows shines a glow of a 21st century pastoral over them.
And, out of nowhere, another person joins into the composition, and she remembers to flip a page only after Antonio sat down. She flips the pages back, deciding to actually read for a while, realising she doesn’t know what happens in this book - did she even read anything since this morning?
Before she can bring herself to another attempt, she’s no longer without company.
“Something interesting?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she admits, closing the book, annoyed. -“I cannot focus at all,”
“I’ve noticed your aim was off this week,” he replied, settling down in a chair next to hers, now facing the scene she has before her. -“Something to do with your trip back home?”
She smirks, trying to act cool.
“It was a five-day celebration,” she replied nonchalantly. -“I am just a bit tired,”
“There’s unfocused, and there’s tired,” he offered and she accepts, unwillingly. But she does, again, it was like she got over the fact he would end up being right about these things.
“Maybe I am overdue some target practice,”
“Maybe,” he agreed, he reaches for the book, turning it around before flipping through some pages. -“Pre-raphaelites—“
“There’s an auction coming up next month,” she explains as he reaches a marked page with a black-and-white photo of Ophelia in the lake. -“Ophelia is supposedly being sold from a private collection, and honestly, that would be a valuable piece to have,”
“To sell or to keep?”
She shrugged, uncertain.
“Keep, I guess? I haven’t thought about it,”
“Just that you have to have it,” he replied - a hint of playfulness in his voice makes her smile.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” he nodded, and they both look at the window, as Miranda Rizzo knocked lightly. Antonio nodded and she smiles, glancing over Nare shortly.
“I wasn’t aware it was parent-teacher conference happening,” she teased and he breaks a little laugh.
“More like a small family gathering,” Antonio replied, and she’s visibly surprised. -“We’re cousins, Miranda and I, I just haven’t seen her in a very long time,” he continued without her having to ask a thing. She appears near the entrance and calls out for him.
“Are you ready?”
“She was bossy, even as a child,” he leans to Nare a little, and she smiled.
“There’s no bossy, just the boss,” she offers, and he nods.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he concluded, before leaving, handing her the book back, catching up to the woman.
Left to her own devices, she decides she is hungry - procrastination seems to be better with some food.
Walking past some staff, she finds her way to the empty dining hall - well, not empty, there’s a couple of people eating in the other corner near the window - and she makes her way into the kitchen, she’d kill for some arepas with quesito right about now, but she can settle for eggs.
The delicious smell spreading in the kitchen adds to the hunger, and the surprise of seeing Gavin cooking almost makes her forget it.
He turns over his shoulder, turning back again.
“Hi,” she offered.
“Good morning,” he replied shortly, not turning around.
“It smells divine,” another attempt, she approaches, another moment of not turning back around. -“Are we not talking?”
“Is it a good idea?”
“You have a point there,” she agreed but ignored it nevertheless. -“What are you making?”
“Come and have a look,” he replied, and she accepts the offer, stepping closer.
“It looks even better than it smells,” she glanced at the pan and the omelette.
“Do you have to sound this surprised?”
“I thought it sounded excited,” she tried, leaning to the counter not far from him. -“Are you willing to share?”
He scoffed, glancing at her very coldly.
“Funny you should ask,”
“Gavin,” Nare watched him transfer the dish to a plate nearby, throwing the pan into the sink right after. He turns her attention to her. -“Can we talk?”
It takes him a second, but he nods, digging into the eggs on his plate.
“Do you mind if I cook while we do?”
“Go ahead,” he replied. She finds another pan, she reaches for the tomatoes on the other counter, throwing some butter into the pan, before rinsing the tomatoes. She begins chopping them, glancing at him shortly.
“Your mother is here,” she says.
“She is,” he replied. -“This is what you wanted to talk about?”
“No,” she tossed the tomatoes to the pan, hearing it sizzle on the oil, and she tosses them around the pan, throwing some salt into it. -“Of course not, I’m just—“ she shrugged. -“I saw mine last week, that’s why I asked,” she offered, turning around to find a fork - she grabs one, pushing the tomatoes down into the pan a little bit. It’s a valid moment - and she can talk - but nothing manages to come out of her mouth. -“I need chilli,” she says, he turns around, picking one from the bowl of produce, tossing it to her.
“I—“
Before she can act on her promise to herself, her phone rings - she picks up without thinking about it.
“Nothing?”
“Sorry,” she heard Samar on the other end. -“I think maybe you should consider—“
“Give me a bit more time before suggesting that,” she spoke lightly. -“And don’t worry, I’m officially letting you go back to your day, I doubt anything relevant happens today,” she concluded, hanging up a moment later.
“Bad news?”
“Does it count if you expect it?” she says, disappointed for a moment, chopping the chilli before she tossed it into the pan.
“What’s going on?”
“A lot,” she mussed, stirring the chilli and tomatoes, walking to the fridge, picking up two eggs. -“A whole fucking lot, and I don’t know half of it,” she continued, cracking the eggs into the pan. Everything bubbled, splashing tiny red dots around.
He stands there, waiting for a continuation. She offers something else.
“I’m sorry I assumed the worst,” she throws him a glance, looking for a lid for the pan, turning the heat off as she covered it entirely, moving it to the other side of the stove, finally turning around as he set his empty plate down.
“Are you?”
“I am,” she shrugged. -“I trusted you many times before, based on blind faith set in nothing, but that moment—“ Nare shook her head. -“I am not a trusting person, you know? And I trusted you—“
“Did you?” he scoffed. -“It felt like you didn’t, in the end,” he continued. -“Almost like you got caught up in the moment of thrill and remembered halfway through you did not really trust me,”
“That’s not fair,”
“Not many things are,”
“You’ve got that right,” she agreed, moving closer. -“Present company included, Gavin because you can say a lot of things, but you didn’t trust me enough half of the time,” she knits her brows and he seems surprised, looking at her. -“Oh, god, don’t look surprised, you have to be aware you did not share that much with me,”
“I can say the same,” he replied.
“You can,” Nare agreed. -“But I would not ask of you to get into my mess without—“
“You sure you don’t want to end that sentence a bit sooner?”
“Yes, I am sure!” she hissed. -“If you really want to know, yours was the only opinion I would have listened to on that fucking day,” she squeezed through her teeth, trying not to be too loud. -“Stop for one second and put yourself in my position—“ she swallowed, looking at him. -“If you told me at any point to trust you and not go into that bloody room, I would have dropped the plan in a heartbeat,” she finished. -“So, now we can either agree there was supposed to be more trust on both sides, or—“
So, she didn’t think it through after that part.
“Or? Or what?”
“Or we don’t, we each go our own way, and hope to god we don’t have to put trust one into another past that point,” she finished.
“I’m not used to going to extremes with people I care about,”
“And I’m not used to having one without the other, trust and caring,” she replied. -“Well, I am, now, apparently,”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I don’t even know, honestly,” she pipes. -“I can tell you this much, and take from this whatever you will: I don’t walk around with a death wish and join crusades for the thrill of it, Gavin.”
There’s a moment of silence, some staff walks into the kitchen, but move out really quickly after.
“So, what now?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she replied, and it was true, and she was no longer hungry afterwards.
leave it all behind
Might be the understatement of the century to say she wasn’t in the best of moods, but she tried to hide as much as she possibly could - and she would, in those rare occasions of feeling quite well, find herself talking to Tony more often.
She ignores the fact Samar did not share anything about his new girlfriend with her - perhaps he was not willing to admit it out loud yet. Perhaps they were not as close as she might hoped, but the idea of a romantic involvement sounds like a healthy enough distraction.
It takes her very little to say yes to some suggestions Tony makes, but it almost seems like in the short amount of time since last month, and the beginning of this one, they’ve gotten a bit closer than she thought. She shares some thoughts about her family, then she shares a story or two from their past, and soon enough she has no issue in bringing it up, even occasionally, and she does not do that often.
Still, he feels…safe. Or, safe choice, rather than just safe. He knows what she’s talking about when she talks about the family business, about the power struggle, about— everything. She invites him to take coffee with her in a walk, he suggests she goes for a jog on the beach with him one late afternoon. It’s starting to become a consistent part of the day, to chat, even for a moment, and she is not even trying to deny she likes it, nor deny herself the experience.
Not the running, no, but she’s not immune to an occasional reminder of just how attractive that man is - in suits, and out of them, just the same.
She feels like she should be in better shape, sharp wind in her face, flushing her cheeks - she pulls her sleeves down to her knuckles, running one step behind, feeling relieved as he stopped. Nare falls, hitting the sand gently, exhaling her lungs out - or it feels like it.
There are better ways of getting in your cardio, she considered saying, watching him through her lashes, but decides against it, opting out for a smile instead. He smiled back.
“Come on, we shouldn't sit here, we’ll cool and—“
“Relax,” she says. -“It’s Friday, the sun has set, and I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
He appears reluctant, glancing at her, as if he is looking for some kind of excuse, but there is nothing to say besides a simple no, spoken like a full sentence. A little bit nervous, she gets up, deciding to act on her desire.
“Although, you might have a point here,” she says, getting up, face still flushed, hoping it’s not as visible in this dusk - the dark has almost set. -“This is not the way to cool down.”
She fumbled with the zip for a short second, pulling it down, letting the top fall down, and she heads to the ocean. It’s not a surprise, certainly, as he must be aware she likes him more than just a friendly company to keep, no? Her top goes next, she throws the shoes and the pants before she reached the ocean, dipping her toes into the cold water.
“Coming?” Nare turns over her shoulder, wide smile and a nudge, before she turns back towards the cold water to shiver in silence, few steps in, a few more, and she plunges into the ocean, emerging a moment later, only to turn around, finding no one where he stood, and his face coming out of the water only a couple of strokes away. She smiled, waited, then tasted the salt from his lips.
xx
In any decent romance story, the lead is woken up in the morning by the ray of sunshine gently lulling them up from the sleep, gently setting in the realisation there is another heartbeat in the bed next to them, skin against theirs.
One might interpret this as a beginning of a good thriller, or horror too, depending on the direction it takes, but the harsh reality is that most people get awakened by the sound of their phone nowadays.
She’s the same, nudging in the bed at the sound of a vibrating alarm near her. She finds it, on the ground, and turns it off, before returning into the warmth of the blanket, her mind slowly lulled into the realisation of her location. She adjusts her position, slowly shuffling around the bed.
“What time is it?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“Not sure, don’t care,” she answers melodically, reluctant for a moment on if she should pull him closer or not. -“Do you need to be someplace else?”
“No,” he replied, and as if reading her mind, got closer. Unsure of what to do now, she initiated silence with a kiss.
She’ll be happy about that call later, once the news settles in.
it's some kind of sin to live your whole life on a "might've been”
Fever dream of revelations comes in form of news she forgot she sought out to find out.
There’s been a couple of moments after her father had died when she wanted to talk to her mother and ask questions.
How come he decided to fly out with a new vehicle? Why did he feel comfortable enough flying back, but he left in a car? Why did he leave Samar behind, when he was usually the one travelling with him to these meetings?
And the answers - as easy as they might have seemed to someone on the outside - were covered with a layer of dust and avoiding making her mother cry. She hoped to ask, she made her intentions clear to her mother, yet every single time she tried to bring herself to ask the questions, a thousand little doubts lit up in the back of her mind.
Would it sound careless to interrogate a widow?
So, she resorts to private investigators and dirty cops, with Samar’s help, and with her own intention in mind. Find the truth, no matter what, and then deal with it.
Things started to fit into place after the pregnancy was announced: Mathias is having a child, and there are tiny slip-ups in the stories both her mother and Mathias said. Timelines don’t fit - how could he have talked about this woman to Silvia when they were not talking? How was it possible they spent a day at their old home, out in the countryside, while he was still in his self-imposed exile? It’s easily brushed off as figures of speech, as memories growing older, as every other stupid excuse in the book.
She grew impatient back then, and she was not focused, and things slipped her mind - the second there’s a call from Columbia and she picks it up she’s aware she forgot about this private intelligence company she hired soon after the death of her father. They sent information only moments later, and while she opens it under a lot of their protocols, security and whatnot, she’s trying to imagine what’s going to be in the photos.
There are many things she believes could have been there: a very clear visual image of someone messing with the vehicle, Mathias’ newest schemes in HD, proof of evidence of something worse - but the photo was something strange.
At first, she’s looking at some surveillance screens, a street in some town, she’s unsure which one, but the photo is weirdly blurry, but it’s only the case with the first batch of snaps. The second one - stamped another date which happens to be around a month after the death of her father - is still a street, and there’s a familiarity to the pixelated image she is looking at, but until she reaches a folder near it, she’s unable to make the connection.
There were only a handful of men her father trusted when flying. One of them died with him that day. Or, at least that’s what she believed because, at this very moment, she looked at a photo of his, dated shy over two months after he died. She skips photos so fast are starting to resemble a movie rather than just images - and then the smoking gun.
She clicks a couple of photos back, noticing a very familiar person sitting next to him. Women, young, pretty, and soon to be family.
Antonio is already through the door when she realises his presence there, closing the laptop, blank expression on her face.
“That was very subtle,”
“We don’t do subtle in Columbia,” she replied, taking a deep breath, trying to calm her mind, but all she could hear was buzzing in her ears as she fakes a smile. -“I don’t—“
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Tony says before she approached properly. She laughs, distracting herself from the fact she just did.
“You’re completely right,” she nods. -“I just did.”
He knit his brows, unsure of what to say, and she just shakes her head.
“Never mind,” Nare replied, moving her hair back, taking another step towards him.
“You look like you’re shaking,” he reaches for her hand, but she pulls it back, before handing a smile. -“What’s happening?”
This part she’s unsure of how to describe, because, what is happening?
She just found out the man who co-piloted the plane in which his father died is not dead, despite the funeral held for him. She just saw he was meeting with her uncle’s future wife.
So, what is happening?
“I’m not sure,” she replied. He appears as if he would say something that’s scolded her, but there’s a hesitation to his intention, preventing him from coming through with it.
“I’m perfectly aware you don’t wish to hear it when I say it,” he started, making her face go flat in annoyance. -“But sometimes the past is best kept there, especially if you can’t undo what has already happened.”
This time, her expression is uncertain: she is confused, somewhat annoyed, very much unsure of what it means.
“Please explain,” Nare says, hands crossed on her chest. -“What does it mean, huh?”
“It’s advice, Naressa,” he replied, softly. -“Just a simple advice.”
She scoffed, his reaction was not favourable.
“Speak your mind freely, instead of doing whatever this was,”
“Just me, annoyed at this array of advice suggesting not to ask anything about anything at all, while everyone else seems to be playing at some game,” she replied, quite honestly.
“My advice—“
Nare scoffs.
“It’s not just about you,” she replied. -“It’s about the fact everyone keeps suggesting me to lay low, while in reality, I am the one person doing very little - you know everything, Gavin has his own ideas of the world, and even fucking Cyrus is sneaking around the dark corners of the library, drawing family trees on the outlines of Latin books,” a laugh slips her, annoyed, or perhaps a little exhausted. Nare closed her eyes for a second, exhaling.
“What?”
“What what?”
“Drawing family—“
“I assume it was a family tree, but it wasn’t into some old book, the book was just there,” she exhaled, annoyed he took more interest in this and advising her not to poke around than he did in— whatever. -“What’s so relevant about that?”
“Nothing, most likely,” Tony replied. -“And nothing worth mentioning either, just like the past.”
There’s a moment of silence, and she nods, certain she would just spend the rest of the afternoon browsing the photos. Pretending she is angrier than she is broken-hearted. Trying to determine if she actually is.
“You never said if you’re here—“
“Do I have to have a reason?”
“No,” she nodded. -“But you usually do,”
“I will probably be working late tonight, so I—“
“No worries,” she nodded, keeping silent when she felt grateful for this.
“I’m serious about the secrets part,” he says before leaving the room. -“Past is better left alone in the past.”
i bore a flame that burned a thousand suns for you, but it died
The news of Tony’s disappearance next morning comes as a shock - there’s lucidity in her decision to actually hold for a second and not do anything hasty is surprising to her - she picks up her phone to call Samar, puts it down again and just stops for a second.
It was not the best decision to eavesdrop on a chat between Cyrus and Lady M, but she just happened to be on the bottom of the stairs, and unseen for a moment, long enough to hear no one suspects Tony went on his own because there have been signs of struggle in the room, even some blood.
Deep breath and she makes a step, noticing Cyrus noticed her - and before she can vanish into her room, he’s there, foot jammed in the door.
“Wait,” he says - and she listens, letting him inside, eyes on the door before he closes it behind him. -“Are you going to allow us both to save some time and tell me all you know?”
“Are you?”
“I think you already heard whatever I had to say,” he said in a beat. -“Look, I know you two have gotten closer lately, and you can’t expect me to think it’s a coincidence—“
“I would not harm him, Cyrus,” she replied quite calmly. For her, at least. -“I’d love to know what happened to him too,” she continued.
“I told you,” he says, even if she’s sure there’s more to his story. -“You’ve already heard I all know, which is not what you can say, I am sure.”
She is furious - and there’s a short second when she thinks it’s for the best to be loud about it, before she decides against it - and nods.
“Very well,” he nodded, leaving the room.
Unreasonably, she feels scared now, waiting for his footsteps to go further, and waiting for the air to be clear, before running out and, unexpectedly, right into the only other place she feels like it could turn to a safe space.
“Tony is gone,” she gets into the room, closing the door behind her, and turning around. Gavin, standing near the window, finishing a call - or starting one - and she furrows her brows at his blank expression. -“Did you hear me?”
“I did,” he nodded. -“What do you mean gone?”
“I mean, gone as in I just heard Cyrus say there have been signs of struggle in his bedroom and he is nowhere to be found,” she says.
Gavin seems surprised, brows darting up for a short moment, but there is no real concern written on his face as he looks at her.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he replies - a little bit compassion, or perhaps confusion in his voice - and gives a little shrug. -“But this is Tony Salvatore you’re talking about, Nare,” gentle transition into a kind smile. -“I would worry more about whoever tried to do him harm,” Gavin concluded.
He gives her another glance, catching the look on her - worried - and offers a little smile.
“What’s going on?”
“Everything,” she says, silently, feeling like her chest is about to explode. There’s a shock on his face once she bursts into tears, almost a scared, confused type of shock - luckily, her vision is now blurry enough and she can’t see much.
But, she can feel him hug her at one point, and she feels herself hugging him back.
By the time she has cried her heart out, and told him everything that has happened - from the knowledge her father might have been murdered, to the fact she was stumbling onto something bigger but did have enough courage to talk to someone - everything coming off her chest feels like a burden unloaded after far too long.
Finally, when she believes herself to be well, he steps in with his truth, offering a simple deal. She says yes and gets to make sure her family is safe, her position is safe - and, as for the first time, she says what she wants out loud.
Should this go well, should she have his support, should she find these new allies, they were to help her reclaim her place in her family by making sure Mathias is out of the way.
x
Hours later, as the two of them embark on a hike to the Rizzo family bunker, he fills in on many other details, and while she is not yet aware of all the implications, she feels relieved they are talking again and in full honesty.
“I wasn’t sure you’d agree to this,” he said after a period of silence.
“I wasn’t either,” she confessed. -“But this morning, it felt like I truly had no one else to go to,” she says. -“And after this, if he’s not back—“
“He’ll be back, I’m sure,” Gavin cuts her off. -“You’re aware of the person who is at the school now, who isn’t really the person everyone else around here knows,” he continues. -“Tony is a fucking legend of his own making, the best killer in this part of the world, Nare, it’s not something you forget,” Gavin replied. -“You either have it in you or you don’t, and trust me when I say he still has it in him,” the conclusion sounds colder than she imagined, making her cut the topic - and just in time.
“Besides, this breach is the thing we should focus on, and get this mess sorted out before we all get fucked,” they reached a location, and he walks through some bushes and towards a hole in the ground. -“Investigation into this information should be your focus now, and everything else will fall into place naturally. He pulls the metal trap door up and gestures to show her in first.
Once they emerge in this space, Nare is officially introduced to Miranda Collins-Rizzo, and the Mal Dios agent that she remembers seeing around in this last month - the words are thrown around are all pointing in one direction: this threat is either sorted or the entire world as they know it is gone.
They are led out of the main room and down a dark hall, heading towards the door.
“We need the information, what happens after is none of my concern,” the tall man said, opening the heavy door, revealing the information they were meant to investigate is not some data at all.
Bound, gagged, blindfolded and twitching to this new sound, Justin Sanchez and Kalee Richards are sitting there, back to back. -“Sins of the father takes a fun turn here,” the man chuckles, glancing at both. -“Good luck.”
Nare, unable to hide her shock, stands at the door frame, looking inside, unable to move properly, noticed Gavin is as surprised as she is - the door behind them close, leaving them alone inside.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she says under her breath. -“G—“ she chooses not to speak his name, and shakes her head, stopping herself from saying his out loud. A cliche, however, seems so appropriate to use right now. -“This is not what I signed up for,” Nare glanced at him, watching as a surprise is still all over his face.
He shrugged.
“I guess we should start asking questions now,” she says, hoping to everything she might possibly believe in that something happens to stop this. Nothing does, they stand there. -“Or maybe,” she turns back to him. -“Maybe we find a way to get the fuck out of here.”
DONEEEE!
(updated because i forgot the final outfit)
Last edited by Zaralee (30/11/2021 at 23:48)
. It turns out she isn’t actually working with anyone at all. She earnestly sought to help Sergeï but then he was only interested in finding Zoë… to warn her or share information with her… or whatever! Lilah was having none of that… not when he was ‘her man’. Oh no! She’d knocked him out cold with the butt of a gun and locked him in the cell. But she never meant to leave him there… just to remind him who deserves his attention. But then Zoë had to go and prove how backstabbing she was. Showing affection and concern over her man. How dare she? After all, hadn’t Lilah reminded her time and again about her relationship with Sergeï! Stupid girl. Well, she just had to prove how foolish he’d be to choose Zoë over her. Then the three of them would have the understanding between them… and the two women can go back to being friends knowing that Sergeï was off-limits.
