love or revenge

Chapter 1 “Luca, I got information that Las Sambro Negra and Los Manor Rajos are using a studio opposite the bank to try and extort money by robbing the bank,” Lord Grenzo said, his voice low as cigarette smoke curled around his face. “We have never been concerned with other groups’ business before. Why now?” I replied, crossing my hands as my leather jacket creaked ever so silently. “Luca, if their plan is successful, they will have more than enough money to go on a full-blown attack. Do you know what that implies?” he retorted, slamming his cane on the table. His words sank in. The hum of the city outside filled the room as it fell silent. “It means that they have the numbers right now but not the weapons to go ahead with a gang war. So the heist will give them the resources needed to get the weapons they desire,” I said, gradually grasping the severity of the issue at hand. “Exactly, Luca. But that won't happen because I am sending my best Enforcer to check out the situation,” he said confidently. “Ok, boss,” I replied and turned to leave. “Luca, no matter what you see, do not engage. Lay low and don't make a scene. Just watch and report to me,” he reaffirmed calmly. “Ok, boss. I got it,” I said. I walked into this beautifully decorated shop, placed between two flower shops which filled the air with a nice floral scent. The decor was so welcoming. The faint sound of jazz softly being played on hidden speakers was so relaxing. Soft murmurs and distant footsteps on the hardwood floor made this place all the more peaceful. I had come here because I was tipped that our opposition were using it for their activities. I was sent here as the most experienced and efficient Enforcer. My job was simple: observe, gather intel, and leave. I blended in with the patrons of the studio. The vivid lining of the wall with portraits that looked like they have been pulled out of heaven I never liked art, but something about these pieces captivated me. I felt something I couldn't explain. I had previously never introspected, but I had the urge to. At the bottom of each piece was a name written in elegant, flowing cursive: “Love always finds the one” — Isabella Hernandez. I looked at the name longer than I should have. I have to meet her. Who was she? And why did I want to meet her? “Do you know where I can find the artist?” I inquired of a stranger. The stranger answered, “There would be a meet and greet later today by 3 PM.” Me, who couldn't care less about art, was now hung up on it so much that I was prepared to wait for this Isabella Hernandez. I checked my watch. It was only 11 AM. I had 4 hours to go. I had been standing in the studio for about an hour. My feet were killing me and my eyes stung from looking at the fluorescent bulbs, which was the only way I could entertain myself. I decided to take some fresh air outside, so I walked towards the doors, rubbing my eyes as I reached for the door handle. I opened it and walked right into someone. Guess she wasn't focused either, because we bumped into each other spilling what she was carrying. Papers flew, a bag hit the floor. After the noise from the objects and the dust had settled... I came face to face with her. Her beauty caught me off guard, subtle but impossible to ignore. Her skin was smooth and sun-kissed. Deep blue eyes that a man could drown in. Soft waves of thick dark hair cascaded down her shoulders. We stood still, our eyes locked together. She broke the silence by saying, “So sorry, I did not know you were coming.” Her voice soft but clear. I countered by saying, “I should have been more careful. We both messed up and we both already apologized, so it is okay.” “Let me help you with that,” I said as I kneeled down to help her pick up her things. I helped her pick them up, then out of courtesy, I decided to help her carry her things. We walked a few distances through the busy studio till we reached a door. She opened the door while I scanned the room. Then I saw him in the distance. Mateo. He shouldn't be here at all. I dropped the things I had in my hand and politely excused myself. As I moved away, I couldn't help but glance back. I looked back and I saw her beautiful blue eyes turn away. She was staring at me. I don't know why that thought made me feel so good. I had to put that behind me as I had to find out why he was here. He was looking around. Who was he looking for? He could blow my cover. I rushed to him, low and quiet. “Why the f**k are you here?” I questioned. “I came because I love art,” Mateo said calmly, sipping on his glass of wine. “You?” “Get out of here before you ruin my mission,” I whisper-shouted at him. “You are on a mission to this beautiful place? You are so lucky, I always get sent to the dumps,” he answered sarcastically. “Shut the f**k up and get out before I tell Don,” I told him. “Why should I go? I was here before you. You leave,” he probed. “Get out before I do something I might regret,” I told him. He stood silently, smirking. I was slowly losing patience. I moved closer to him, removed my dagger from its sheath and pressed it lightly on his stomach. He remained unmoved. He c****d his head, provoking me. “Interrupting someone's mission was a license to kill. I am trying to lay low, else you would have been dead by now. I can't risk the mission for you,” I continued. He got the message. He wasn't about to die for such a reason. He left. I couldn't help but curse him. He made me lose sight of my… I stopped myself. Who was she to me? Why does she make me feel like this? I suppressed that feeling. I was on a mission. I had to stay locked in and focused. I glanced around the studio again. I noticed three men suspiciously looking through a window directly facing the bank. I was sure that was my man. I moved closer,not too close though, to avoid suspicion. “I don't think we can pull this off. The architectural layout of the bank makes entry possible but escapes not,” a tall man in black said. “We can escape if we plan meticulously. It is just a matter of details,” a man in a blue suit said and simultaneously brought out the blueprints for the bank. “You see this vent up here? It leads down an alley in the next street. If we enter through the front door, we can easily use the vent to escape.” “That's genius! So about what time are we going to attack?” a shorter man exclaimed. “In about 2 weeks so we can get the planning right,” the latter said. I had heard enough from them. I slipped away to avoid suspicion. My job was done. I was about to leave, then I remembered the artist I wanted to see. The smell of cinnamon and coffee from a nearby café caught me off guard. Plus, it was about 12 o'clock. So I decided to wait it out by going to a restaurant directly across the street. I walked into a cozy, well-lit café and sat down. It was a double-seater, so I already expected another person to join me. I just tried to enjoy the peace I had. I ordered an espresso. Its sharp taste almost bitter jolted me back to reality. She walked in. She spotted me instantly and walked over smiling. “Is this seat taken?” she asked. Her presence felt exactly like fate