CHAPTER 85: WE MEET AGAIN. 

~KILLIAN

The sharp scent of tobacco filled the air, swirling around in ghostly wisps through the dim light. The den was alive with low murmurs, the soft shuffle of cards, and the occasional clink of glasses as drinks were raised and emptied.

A cool jazz tune played softly in the background, the saxophone’s smooth notes slicing through the smoky air. Laughter bubbled up here and there, but it was the kind that didn’t reach the eyes—too forced, too cautious, much like the way the stout bald man across from me was laughing at my proposal.

“I don't think I said anything funny, Marco," I said calmly.

"Of course you didn't. It's just that what you're asking of me is almost impossible,” he replied, taking a slow drag from his pipe as the half-naked girls on his lap caressed his plump body.

“Almost impossible?” I scoffed. "Come on, Marco. I know you can do it. I didn't come all the way from America, wait a week for you to get back from vacation, just to hear this.” I locked eyes with him, no