Reporting from the underworld

chapter eleven

Alejandro's POV.

It was a long wait.

Did his father walk that slow everywhere he went?.

I stood at a spot, rummaging through a lot of questions in my head whilst I classified them in three categories.

The first category was for questions that I could easily provide the answers to. They may not be correct, but I was able to provide an answer to them.

The second was questions I would like to ask Miguel later. Questions like “what the absolute f**k was going on?” “Why does he want to see me?” “was I in trouble?” And most importantly, “did he always walk like that?”

The third were questions I dared not ask aloud. I really don't know why they existed but I knew for a fact that they were not supposed to be asked.

“I'll leave you two to deal with whatever rubbish this is.” Juan sneered as he grabbed a handful of food as he walked away, “Talking about poisoned food, just take a look at dinner, ruined”

Soon enough it was me and Miguel all alone in a drafty dining hall and some song I couldn't stand. I made my move and in a matter of seconds I had stopped the spinning record, “hmmm, fancy” I muttered as I took an intrigued good look at the gramophone.

I turned back to find Miguel grabbing me by the collar and pulling me to the dining table, “what was that about?” He growled.

He was swift, he was quick while I was taken by surprise. I barely had time to answer his question when he flung me on the table, “what was that bit about the food being poisoned?”

I for one felt insulted, “why are we having this conversation? Ron— you know Ron, the loyal guy you trusted not to ever harm you? Yes, that Ron, he tried to hurt you. Who found out and warned you?”

“What makes you think I would make this up?”

His grip loosened. He was always quick to forget and I would keep reminding him no matter how long it took.

“So why did it have no effect on Juan?” He asked.

“I dunno, why don't we start with you letting me go and apologizing?”

He managed to get off me and I could feel blood rush to my legs, “that will have to wait. Right now, we need to calm things down with my dad. We need to get his approval for you to stay. I need you here, I need you to stay.”

I could feel my face flush.

“Oh no, that came out wrongly” Miguel explained, “what I was trying to say was that you're important if we are to get to the bottom of things—”

“Alright.” I said confidently. If this was how I get to meet his father, then so be it. It was my mission to get on his father's good side.

“If we're going to pull this off, then I need to know what your father is like.”

Miguel answers calmly, “The first thing you have to do is not to get on his good side.”

“What?”

…………………

The air was heavy with the smell of burning cigars.

I stood in what I assumed to be an office judging the arrangements of the furniture and the decor of the room. On the wall, opposite the entrance was a huge portrait of Miguel's father.

On the shelves placed by the sides were books written in several languages. One of them seemed to be written in Latin and I could have sworn that it translated to “ways to Get the truth from a man”

I gulped, that was awkward.

“Alejandro is it?” Miguel's father said finally, breaking the cigar scented air.

“Yes sir” I responded.

My eyes trailed the source of the scent of the air. It was the burning cigar that he had in his mouth. I watched as he pulled it out and stubbed it on the gold ash tray in front of him.

I counted, there were eight cigar butts on that tray.

My eyes darted across the room to find Miguel standing at the far corner. Something about the way he carried himself was different.

His posture was different, smarter, sharper. The only time I have seen him like this was at the dinner table. He was never like this when his father was not around.

Something about the way his face looked tense.

“You made mention of my son being involved in a deliberate crash with Ron?”

“Go straight to the point.”

That was Miguel's first tip with dealing with his father, “he hates the build up that leads to the point you're making so avoid passing through a bush let alone beating around it.

“Yes.” I answered.

“And you know this was a deliberate act,how?”

I wasn't going to lie but he gagged me there. I pulled myself together to give an answer when—

“He overheard someone discussing the plan before I arrived to carry out the assignment given to me that day.”

I turned to face Miguel who answered the question. His face was rigid and his eyes were fixed forward so that they dared not blink.

“Is this true?” His father asked me who nodded in response.

His father took a while to look me deep in the eye like they told a different story before he moved on with his next question.

“How were you suddenly there?”

I blinked my eyes like they would help me under the question better. “Umm, I didn't get that?”

Miguel's father's voice seemed to deepen the second time he repeated that question. I had broken a rule. Apparently he did not like repeating himself.

“Why were you suddenly there at the time of the planned crash and if you knew why did you follow him?”

I believed that question was quite stupid. Like why was I here to begin with. I was kidnapped.

His father's gaze was low so I lowered mine. I could not afford to ruin things now even if they were getting me riled up.

My silence was not helping matters, I saw his eyes twitch. I hoped it was something in the air and not me.

“Who am I kidding?” I thought to myself

I could feel it in my bones,I was in deep trouble.