CHAPTER TWO

Lorenzo's POV

I step behind the worn wooden counter, the familiar scent of aged liquor enveloping me. Operating the bar isn't just a job for me; it is a veil, a shield against prying eyes. Concealed behind smiles and casual chatter, I safeguard a world known only to a select few; each glass I wipe, each smile I wear—it's all a charade, a facade shielding the hidden truths that lurk within these walls, my past, a buried treasure, one I couldn't afford to unearth, and my present life, a double.

But it is fun and everything.

Today is no different. It's just like any other day. We, night folks, do things backward. While most work during the day, we're busy making plans for the night while the sun's still up. We plan a day to save the night.

Amidst the noise of daytime, we're setting the stage for the excitement that's brewing after dark. It's a time of getting everything ready, making sure all the pieces fit perfectly for the lively night ahead.

I go around the bar, the bar is not full yet, but it is only evening and the night is still young, I check on the bartenders before I head over to my live in office.

I slump onto the plush sofa in my living room, thoughts swirling around in my head like a tornado tearing through a town.

I clench my fists, torn between the urge to scream in frustration and the desire to break something. My emotions are a rollercoaster, flipping between anger, sadness, and disbelief like a deck of cards shuffled by an erratic hand.

I stare blankly at the wall, my mind replaying recent events like a broken record, searching for answers that elude me. The pieces of the puzzle are scattered, and I can't seem to make sense of them, no matter how hard I try. It's like I'm stuck in a labyrinth, with no exit in sight.

My breaths are shallow, and I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of confusion. My head throbs like a drumbeat, and my heart races like a runaway train. I'm lost in a storm of emotions, and I can't seem to find my way out. I close my eyes, trying to quiet my mind and find some peace. But the chaos persists, a never-ending cycle of thoughts and emotions. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from tumbling into the abyss.

Before I became Lorenzo Rivera, the feared hidden leader of the Rivera Cartel, before any of these. I used to be a nobody, just a young boy with dreams untouched by the shadows that tend to rip me of my sanity.

I hate to admit it, but I have become more like my father than I would have liked, I did not like my father very much growing up, to me, he was this temperamental man who never smiled at me, who I was supposed to be grateful for because he saved me from a life on the streets when he adopted me.

But as I grew older, I realized that my father was not as wise as he thought, and that he was a scared man, who was terrified by death and betrayal and he did everything in his power to keep himself from dying with a knife in his back, but at the end that was how he ended.

And here I am now, wondering when my life would be cut short and somebody would betray me, I fall asleep, wondering when I would wake up to a gun pressed on my forehead.

I woke up with a jolt from a dream that I did not know I was dreaming, my heart racing and my breaths coming in short gasps. My mind is still trapped in the nightmare, unable to shake the images that haunt me. It's like I'm swimming through a thick fog, trying to claw my way back to reality.

My body is drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around me like a cocoon. I feel like I've just emerged from a battlefield, battered and bruised but somehow still alive. My skin is clammy and cold, a stark contrast to the hot, feverish feeling that courses through my veins.

Emotions swirl inside me like a whirlpool, threatening to pull me under. Fear, anger, and helplessness mix together, creating a potent cocktail that threatens to overwhelm me. It's like I'm trapped in a storm, tossed around by the winds of my own emotions.

I take a deep breath, trying to ground myself in the present moment. It's not easy - the nightmare still lingers, a ghostly presence that refuses to leave me alone. But I know that I can't let it control me. I force myself to sit up, to look around the room and remind myself that I'm safe.

Slowly, my breathing begins to even out, and my heart rate slows. The feelings of panic begin to recede, replaced by a sense of weariness and exhaustion. It's like I've run a marathon, and now my body and mind need time to recover.

I am not my father, I remind myself, standing up. I will not allow myself to be overtaken by paranoia, I say as i try to level my breathing.

I pull out my phone and call Kristoff, my PA and right hand man.

"Gather the boys around. There's an important matter on the ground that needs to be taken care of," I tell him calmly.

"Okay boss," he says and I cut the call.

I head over to my medicine cabinet in my bathroom and grab a drug that can help me calm my nerves.

I hear a knock on my door, just after I have taken the drug.

"Boss, they're here" Kristoff shouts from outside.

"Let them in,"

I stride into the room, my presence commanding attention without a word spoken. The air thickens as my boys gather around, their expressions a mix of reverence and anticipation. I don't need to utter a command; they know why they're here.

"We got a situation," I begin, my voice low but firm. "Lou's place was hit last night. Those bastards left a message."

Muttering curses under their breath, they stand still, fists clenched by their sides, and their shoulders rolled back, glaring at me as they await the next command. "Round up the usual suspects. No stone unturned. I want their hideouts, their hangouts. Their fucking shoe size if it helps!"

"Yes Boss," they yell in unison, the room erupting into motion as they scramble to their assigned tasks. They don't question; they just move. That's the way it works in this world—a world where orders are carried out without hesitation, where loyalty is currency, one that's earned and one that's bought. It scares the shit out of me how a person can be so loyal even to the point of death.

As they disperse to their tasks, I go over to the bar. One of my guys had been on duty for a while now and his shift would be over in about five minutes.

I tap his shoulder and he looks at me in relief before he drops the glass he was holding and follows me to the changing room behind the counter.

I find comfort in running the bar because it's like a safe place for me. The soft lights and the smell of old drinks help me forget about the tough parts of my life. Here, I'm not the big boss; I'm just a bartender chatting with folks. I enjoy the easy talks and laughs, feeling like a regular guy for a change.

The bar lets me relax a bit, away from all the stress and worries of my other life. Mixing drinks and talking to people gives me a break from the serious stuff. It's a place where I can forget about being the boss and just be myself for a while.

My father was a sommelier. He knew a lot about wines. He'd mix and blend them in a way that seemed like magic. Watching him got me interested in wines. I wanted to learn everything about them—where they come from, how they're made, all of it. Our family owned a restaurant then, so it gave me a space to practice and because my dad read lots of wine books, I got to read them too and so I grew up with a vast knowledge of wines, the different types of grapes and a few things about whisky.

Each sip of wine felt like a journey, like I was tasting history. I dreamed of being a pro at wines, just like my dad. But then, he passed away suddenly and I guess my dreams of being like him died with him. I couldn't follow my dream anymore. I had to take on other responsibilities based on the choices and options life made available for me.

This bar is a choice close to my dreams and a safe haven, a space that lets me keep my father's dream alive. A space that kept the memories safe.

I grab the small apron and tie it on my waist before I head out again.

"Can someone get me a fucking martini?"  A woman's voice shouts from the bar.

I grab the glass off the table as I realize that Matty was supposed to attend to her before he left.

I make a Martini for her quickly, then I turn over to where she is sitting at the bar stool and head over to her, with the drink in my hand.

Her face takes me by surprise, she is stunning.

I can feel her eyes on mine as I walk over to her.

There is an inscrutable expression on her face. Her demeanor reveals no hint of a smile or a frown. Her oval shaped face carries a steely gaze framed by cat-lined, piercing blue eyes and dark long lashes that makes her stare intensely. Dark curly hair that cascades down her shoulders compliments these looks.

"Thanks," she says quietly as I hand her the drink.

Her eyes are lowered to the glass bashfully, almost like she has no interest in the drink anymore.

I smile at her a bit, then I turn around, leaving her by the table and I head back to my other customers.

I feel her eyes on me all night. She orders another Martini, and smiles at me again when I bring it over to her. She is definitely flirting with me.

I also find myself staring at her, lost in the wonder of her beauty. Despite the melancholic air around her, she's still strikingly beautiful. She looks like a red rose against a sea of white ones.

It is almost midnight when she calls me over again. There are less people around, I usually close the bar by around twelve thirty, so most people start to leave already.

"How would you like to earn some extra  cash?" she asks me coolly, a flirtatious smile on her face.

Her rosy lips curved and her cheeks glowed in the dim light. An irresistible, tender and captivating smile that instantly puts a smile on my face.

"Are you offering me a tip, ma'am", I ask wondering if this woman was flirting with me or not.

"No. Just consider it a Christmas bonus"

"But it's not Christmas yet?"

"It'll be for you if you make the right decision?"

"Alright ma'am"

"Find me at the VIP Lounge when your shift is over," she says and takes a swift turn and it's then I get a full glimpse of her. By her outfit, you can tell she has an impeccable taste. She's wearing a figure-hugging black dress that skims her petite frame, accentuating her curves in all the right places.

Curves that I would rather be exploring right now.