Niko’s Eye

Chapter 19.

"Formalities."

Alejandro.

"We will keep in touch, Miss Kasmira." said one of the policemen.

Alejandro had heard Isis’ surname for the first time and it had rang a bell in his mind.

Throughout the whole chaos, he was trying to search the repertoire of his brain to try to remember where he had heard the name before.

Maybe I should try to see her mother’s face. I’m sure that would help. I mean, I attacked her from behind and she had stayed face flat the entire time. I didn’t even pay attention when the paramedics had turned her over and were instigating her body.

He was leaning against his car, deep in thought, watching Isis and her grandmother as they thanked the policemen.

Inside that wooden box, was a couple of Isis’ father’s documents, which the police hadn’t really been interested in, and a laptop that contained video tapes from last week till that very day.

The videotapes had confirmed the story they had told the police officers.

He didn’t even know how to feel. It was extremely awkward for him. He had felt insanely hypocritical, with a tad bit of shame. For the main reason that he too, was a killer.

But it’s different... Right? I mean, who would want to kill any of their family members? That’s preposterous.

But, he couldn’t help wondering how Isis would react if ever she had to find out who he truly was, and everything that he represented.

What have I gotten myself entangled into?

Isis had been running from a murderer, and little did she know that she was running straight into the arms of another killer.

Belvia.

Belvia had been in her own world as the policemen yapped on and on.

She didn’t even bat an eyelid as they had placed her daughter in a bodybag and carried her off.

She was thinking of going back to Mexico.

The only thing that was holding her back in Barbados was Isis.

But now that the one thing that had posed as a threat to Isis’ safety, had been removed, she saw no other reason to stay behind.

She wasn’t a very long way from home so it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

She had left Mexico after her husband’s death.

Something she had always suspected Aisha of.

There was so much sadness in leaving her home, back in Mexico.

It had been a place of strong love, a place where fond memories grew as fast as the clover in the grass.

She thought of her darling husband, whom Isis had never had the chance to meet.

Atleast she had made certain that she had told Isis everything she needed to know about her grandfather.

Juan Pablo Arismendi had been a proud man. A typical Mexican.

He was strict, disciplined, and of high principal. His judicious intellect, precise eye and impetuous character that led to a profoundly tarnished reputation amongst his distant relatives, had always been something that she had admired about him.

From her memories of him, she could recollect his leathery skin that always smelt of Cuban cigars and tequila.

That’s why she smoked cigars. It was a tradition, followed by her husband and herself.

She remembered what his hair used to look like.

He had this dusky hair that rested atop his Herculean, sallow figure. A neatly combed mass of hair and wrinkles, sat on his granite-like brow bone, a little over the brown eyes that had always smiled.

Aisha had been a problem child from the very beginning.

Before she met Isis’ father, she had gotten married to some young Mexican thug, against her father’s wishes, which saw her getting disowned.

This is what fueled the existing fire between father and daughter.

Aisha had sworn to have her revenge on him before leaving the house, and that was why she had suspected her daughter of her husband’s death.

It was just so sudden. So mysterious.

They walked the police officers outside of the house and thanked them for their services, together with Isis.

She planned on telling Isis that she was going to leave. She knew it would be difficult for Isis because she was still a child and she knew that Isis loved her very much.

But after she saw Alejandro, she saw Isis’ protector in him. She was sure that Isis was going to be perfectly fine.

She also thought of talking to Isis about selling the house.

Too much had happened already and she was certain that Isis wouldn’t want to live in it, on her own.

As soon as the policemen had left, she looked at Isis and said, "Call your friend, let’s go inside, we need to talk."

Isis.

Isis whistled at Alejandro and smiled when he had immediately looked up.

She used her head as an indication for him to follow her.

She watched him walk over to her and slid her arm around his bare waist, dragging him into the house.

Isis’ Mami was already seated at the dining table, nursing a cup of tea.

They both took a seat at the table.

"Birdie, please make a nice cup of tea for our visitor as well, so he can join me."

Alejandro had smiled, and politely declined the invitation.

Isis rolled her eyes.

"He’s probably the alcohol type."

Alejandro laughed, embarrassingly.

"I’ve never really been a fan of hot beverages M’am."

Isis’ grandmother smiled, nodded knowingly and said, "I just wanted to thank you for what you did for my little girl and I. And please, call me Belvia."

She reached across the table and took Alejandro’s hands in hers and then whispered, "Also, for the dress. By the way, you must be cold, having those abs out for the most part of the night."

She looked down at his torso and winked at him.

Isis ripped herself as she looked over at Alejandro, who was also laughing so much that he started to tear up.

She felt like Alejandro belonged there.

She watched him laughing, and couldn’t see a cold-hearted man, but rather a man with kindness in his smile, a gentleness.

It was the smile of one who laughed with ease.

She saw a soul-connector.

She believed that he was the kind of person who lived how he believed people should, as if he were sunshine that only radiated from the best aspects of those he met, their flaws entirely invisible to his gaze.

He was a calm sea, dancing birdsong and the new buds of spring, with his athletic build and strong arms.

Yet, most of all, he was her special friend.

Little did she know...

"Segundas Revelaciones"

Alejandro.

Alejandro was a god in the world of ruthless business.

And as far as connections were concerned, he had them.

From every corner of the earth.

He had excused himself, and walked into their backyard to make a call.

He flipped out his phone from his Ellesse shorts, trying not to pay too much attention to how chilly it was actually beginning to get, as he punched in some digits.

"Alejandro! It’s been a long time my friend. To what do I owe this pleasure?", the man on the other end had exhubed, almost shouting.

Alejandro plastered on a forced smiled and replied, "Yes Igor, it’s been ages. I can’t really stand out here and chit-chat but I just need you to do something for me."

While his friend on the other end of the phone was busy getting over-excited about finally getting to speak to him after such a long time, Alejandro had tried to remember the information he was about to give him.

He was hoping that whatever information he was about to give Igor, was correct to the tee.

"Khorosho, tell me, tell me, chto-nibud’ for you my friend."

Alejandro took a deep breath, "I need you to find something out for me. Aisha Kasmira. Formerly, Aisha Adrijana Arismendi. That is if I’m not mistaken."

He scratched his head and continued, "Send me every information you can get on this woman, and most importantly, I want to see her photograph. ID, anything. I think it’s bizarre that I can’t even see any portraits of her in this house that I’m in. Anyways, 10 minutes, Igor."

He didn’t even wait for Igor to breathe another word.

He ended the call, turned on his heel and went back into the house.

Isis.

Isis was sitting across the table from her grandmother, perplexed at what she had just told her.

While Alejandro had gone out to make a call, Isis’ Mami had expressed her desire to go back to Mexico and had also suggested that Isis should sell the house.

She couldn’t wrap her brain around the events of that night, let alone digest what her grandmother had told her, so she had just sat there, staring at her Mami.

"It’s for the best, my birdie. Remember that I had a life before I had to drop everything and come out here. I’ve still got so many things to do back home. Including honoring your grandfather’s wishes of extending our home and leaving it in your name. Besides, I’m old now, and it was never my intention to die in a foreign land."

Isis started to cry.

She got up from her seat and started to pace up and down, hand over her mouth, other one on her hip.

Alejandro walked in and frowned when their eyes met.

"What’s the matter," he had asked.

"Mami wants to go back to Mexico and she’s suggesting I sell this house. My home, Alex. I can’t believe it."

She carried on pacing up and down and watched Alejandro as he slowly took back his seat, sitting quietly.

"I think she’s right about selling this house. Take it from me, you’ll never be able to live in peace anymore. And if I remember correctly, you told me, when we were at the beach, that you wanted to go far away from this house."

Isis looked at her grandmother as she slowly raised her brow.

"What day at the beach?"she had asked.

Before Isis could speak, Alejandro opened his mouth, with that damn baritone of a voice.

She glared at him as he explained the whole story, plus, the fricken details.

She blushed for the most part, looking away and pretending she was still deep in thought about her grandmother’s expressions.

Her Mami lit up with laughter and she swiftly turned to see them both, snorting and taunting her.

"Okay, enough guys! Can we please be serious?"

Alejandro and her grandmother stopped and looked at her, and then exchanged looks for a moment, before bursting out in laughter again.

"You know what? I’m going to take a shower, get into my pyjamas and sleep!" she shouted, attempting to storm out on them before getting stopped by Alejandro.

"Yeah? With what? Your pyjamas are in my car! Most probably your towel too. Oh, and your toothbrush!", he shouted back as him and Isis’ Mami ripped themselves.

What the hell was so funny anyways?

She slowly walked back to the dining room, and sat down,glaring at them for a long while before bursting out in chuckles too.

"You guys are dumb,"she said, laughingly.

They were all in stitches, until she noticed that Alejandro had received a message that had immediately wiped the sniggle off of his face.

She wondered what the matter was, because he suddenly became uneasy and very fidgety.

He excused himself again.

Her and her grandmother had exchanged glances.

She shrugged, as he left.

"Business, Mami."

Indeed.

Alejandro.

Alejandro had received information that sent his blood pressure sky-rocketing.

He looked at the photos he had received.

With supporting documents.

He looked at the head shot photograph, and a photo of her in the body bag she was carried out in, earlier that night.

"So, it is her," he whispered.

Aisha Kasmira was the same woman that had walked into his office 5 years ago, looking for the blueprints of the Pueblo Viejo mine, before it had been bombed, and most of the minerals, stolen.

She had the signature of the Mayor so he had thought that maybe Sergio, being the Mayor, needed to do a couple of inspections or something.

Also, she had signed him a huge cheque, courtesy of the government. So he didn’t suspect a conspiracy theory.

He didn’t make anything out of the bombings because he, himself, had been blinded by his own ruthlessness and tyranny.

Possibly greed too.

A few weeks ago, this kind of information would have never touched him.

But he didn’t know why he had felt so guilty.

He began to understand how self-centered and selfish he had always been.

But ever since he met Isis, he had experienced life from a different perspective.

It was with her that his psychology first felt alive as a human being, as someone who was worth genuine kindness and tenderness.

She had stuck her fingers where no other woman had ever placed them.

His heart.

And now, there he was, feeling the weight on his shoulders.

He had been responsible for the many deaths that had occurred in that bombing?

His breathing became superficial and expeditious.

He looked for a place where he could sit, as he felt his knees buckle.

But, that would mean justice has been served right? By provoking her death, I have avenged the death of all of those innocent people.

When did I care this much about other people? What the f**k is going on with me?

He sat on the grass and couldn’t help the tears.

As the first few drops of his lamentations had hit the grass he was seated on, he felt a pair of warm hands, hug him in an embrace.

Isis.

"Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m here."

He kissed her arms, as they were wrapped around his neck.

Closing his eyes, he allowed his emotions to take over him, blocking out every bubbling thought.

Oh Isis...