A DEAL WITH THE BOSSY BILLIONAIRE

La Fea

Killian's POV

"Well, well, if it isn't the drama king. I heard you’ve been looking for me. Miss me much?" I taunted, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nolan's eyes darted around the rooftop, confusion and fear etched across his face. "What in the world is going on? First, Sia caught me up with Sienna, then Sienna used me to get revenge on Sia, and now you—big pal to the coma guy—are the King Woman. And, I’m sorry to ask, but how on earth are you the King Woman? Does that mean you’re a lady or a man? This is too much for me to handle. I mean, from shemale to trans and mixed genes, but this is on a whole new level."

I sighed, trying to maintain my composure. "I’m sorry, but is there anywhere your words are actually leading to?"

"Yes, simple question: I’m hungry. Did anyone order pizza?" Nolan replied, almost casually.

"Pizza? In the middle of all this? Aren't you curious about the whereabouts of the DEA agents who found you?" I asked, incredulous.

Nolan glanced over the edge of the skyscraper, eyeing the deadly drop below. "I’m sorry, I was a little distracted by how my life was ending. You were saying? And, sorry if I may ask again, when is the pizza guy coming?"

"Wow, it’s like you want to push my buttons. But alright, we’ll continue this conversation some other time. Just make sure to bury those dead agents’ bodies. And before I forget, Sia is at your place. Just pretend you both had a drunken love experience in bed, because if she starts digging into her friend’s death, she’ll be the one chained to an air conditioner next."

"Noted, but please excuse me. Did you say 'bury bodies?'" Nolan asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes, the agents you shot. Remember?" I replied, watching his reaction closely.

Nolan chuckled nervously, and I found myself laughing too, along with three of my teammates. "Very funny," Nolan said, though the fear in his voice was palpable.

"Very true," I replied, my tone suddenly serious. "Kill him."

"Wait! Wait!! Wait!!!" Nolan screamed, his voice rising in panic.

"Halt!" I ordered the sniper, and Nolan sighed with visible relief.

"Wow," Nolan exhaled. "Come on, man, can’t you take a joke? Must you be so serious all the time?"

"That was me showing you your life’s reality," I said coldly. "And that was me showing you mercy. If it were La Fea herself or the King, the bullet would be the least of your worries."

"Noted. Whatever action I take, it’s me dying. Why don’t you kill me now? That would be best for us all," Nolan replied, his voice tinged with resignation.

"Apparently, the boss thinks you have potential and will be useful to us. Besides, you work for us now," I said, tossing him a brown envelope.

Nolan caught the envelope, eyeing it warily. "What’s this? Since we’re on the same team, might I remind you that I’m of no good if my face splatters on the 152nd floor of this skyscraper?"

I ordered Theo to let Nolan down. As soon as he was free, Nolan tried to attack me, but my teammates quickly subdued him.

"Well, well. I thought we had an understanding," I said, amused by his feeble attempt.

"You call being chained to an air conditioner an understanding? Man, my pretty face could have splattered on the ground, and even the afterlife wouldn’t recognize me!" Nolan replied, his voice laced with bitterness.

"And what makes you think you have an afterlife?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Doesn’t everyone?" Nolan shot back.

"Forget I asked. Are you ready to play it cool?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.

"Alright, I’ll bite," Nolan replied reluctantly. I nodded, and my team released him.

"Okay, the brown envelope contains your first assignment," I said, watching his reaction carefully.

"Can we all dial it down here, okay?" Nolan asked, his voice rising with nervous energy.

"What do you mean by ‘dial it down’? Who even uses such words anymore?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If I’m to be part of this squad—" Nolan began.

"You’re not part of my squad," I interrupted, annoyed.

"I’m just saying, you’ve got Prey Mantis Guy here. What’s your name, man?" Nolan asked, pointing at one of my teammates.

"Don’t tell him," I ordered.

"Brain," Brain replied before I could stop him.

Nolan burst out laughing. "Brian?"

"Is that funny?" Brain asked, his tone icy.

"Sorry, man, it’s just... funny. But hey, who am I to judge?" Nolan replied, still chuckling.

"Shame hater," Brain muttered, pointing his machine gun at Nolan.

"Okay, no more funny memes. Understood," Nolan said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "And you—pretty blonde chick—what’s your name?"

"I’m not a chick," Amanda snapped, glaring at him.

"Okay, I sense I touched a nerve. Pardon me. Your name, please?"

"Cyberkinetic," Amanda replied, her voice tight with anger.

"But your name tag says Amanda. Which is it?" Nolan asked, confused.

"Boss, can we kill him already?" Amanda asked, turning to me, her eyes narrowing.

"Sorry, C, we can’t. Big boss needs him," I replied, trying to diffuse the tension.

"I guess my fun is causing lots of trouble. So, I conclude: Brain is the muscle, C is the hacker, and the blue guy there with the laser gun pointed at me is the sniper. I guess a team like yours needs a getaway driver, which means if my guess is correct, he’s by the helicopter in front of us. What else am I missing?" Nolan asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and bravado.

"Nothing," I said, my patience running thin. "And what is all this nonsense?"

"Now, to the big question: where do I fit into all this? Drug pusher, contract killer, fixer, cleaner, or what?" Nolan asked, his tone suddenly serious.

"For a pretty guy, I’m having the urge to kill you," I said, my voice dripping with disdain.

"But you won’t because the big boss will be pissed. So, what’s in the brown envelope?" Nolan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"It’s your target," I replied, my tone flat.

"Wait, did you just say ‘target’ as in a target for me to kill?" Nolan asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yes and no," I replied, my voice measured.

"And if I may ask, is that target Callu by any chance? Please let him be," Nolan said, his voice trembling slightly.

"No, it isn’t. Your target is—" I started, but Nolan interrupted me.

"Why can’t it be him? He’s the reason my life is in a mess. He pushed me to Sienna. If he never came into my life, I would have been a movie director as I dreamed of, but I guess it’s kind of too late," Nolan ranted, his voice filled with regret.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Would you like to take over, or will you hear me out?"

"Do continue, boss," Nolan replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Your target is Rolan Stone," I said, watching his reaction closely.

"Isn’t he the CEO of Stone Industries?" Nolan asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"He is. But what you don’t know is that he’s a rival drug lord, and Big Boss can’t have him sharing his territory," I explained.

"Can’t Big Boss and Mr. Stone come to an agreement, you know, share an olive branch or something?" Nolan suggested, his voice hopeful.

"The difference between my boss and Mr. Stone is that my boss is trying to shut down the drug system for good—a system created by his father that led to the m******e of millions of people—and Mr. Stone is trying to revive it," I explained, my voice filled with conviction.

"But you called Mr. Stone a rival drug lord," Nolan replied, confused.

"Yes, because as long as he’s alive, Big Boss has no power to shut down Mr. Stone’s operation," I said, my tone firm.

"So, you guys are basically bad guys with good intentions?" Nolan asked, his voice tinged with irony.

"Maybe," I replied, unwilling to give him a straight answer.

"Okay, I’m in, but why did you kill the DEA agents?" Nolan asked, his voice filled with suspicion.

"Because they were there to kill you. Mr. Stone has the city in his pocket," I said, my voice cold and matter-of-fact.

"Basically, you’re saying we—or I—am supposed to kill a well-armed and connected man as if the world isn’t crazy enough," Nolan replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.

A voice emerged from the shadows, interrupting the tense conversation. "Well, Arizona won’t be a safe haven anymore. You may not believe us, but sometimes I wonder if we are the light or the darkness. But either way—darkness or light—someone has to take a stand. If you’re unwilling to aid the choice is yours"