Justin's head rocks back against the seat.
Another 'stakeout', another city. Fortunate for him he's got the heart of a hunter and the patience of a fisherman.
He tailed Min-Hyuk to another city, all night. Hyuk has checked himself into one of the grand hotels in the middle of the busy city and hasn't come out since. He has chosen the busiest street to meet with the buyer knowing for a fact his former employer will not engage in a bloody gunfight in the middle of the busy street.
It would have been a lot easier for Justin to just shoot him — maybe torture him a little before killing him — back at that desolate hideout. But deep in his cold, hard, heart, he knows someone else is working with Min-Hyuk. This is the third time in six months he'd discovered a spy — that's one too many for Justin's liking.
There's no way Hyuk can pull it off on his own. He isn't smart enough. Even if he is smart, it would be impossible for just one man to be able to steal from him. His mafia is airtight. Nothing gets in and nothing stuck. He knows nobody in their right minds would even attempt to move in on his syndicate without an inside man guiding their steps — not even Gray's mafia.
Min-Hyuk and the other two were the guides; but who is the mastermind? Justin needs that information.
Killing all of Min-Hyuk's lackeys to isolate him, cut his information flow and push him to contact the one behind him, is all part of Justin's plan. And he'll be there waiting for them.
He has been slacking off recently and they all think he has gone soft. Maybe they have forgotten, but Justin is going to remind them...
All of them. He's going to send a message to whomever it may concern.
Even if it means sitting here and counting every fucking car that passes by, he will, because he believes in killing mosquitos with axes.
He wants to know who the buyer is. Which family is bold enough to want his shipment?
The Hunt family are the best-known drug dealers in the criminal underworld. They manufacture and sell the best drugs on the market. They do engage in other businesses.
But drugs are Justin's speciality, among other things.
Justin lays his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, breathing in deeply then exhaling. Calming his anxious nerves.
There's static before a voice comes through his earpiece.
"We have movement," Ian says looking through his binoculars. "Aside from Min-Hyuk, there are two others in the room." There's a pause before he speaks again. "Drake Wilson. The other is... Snake. Wilson's right hand."
Justin hums in thought, his eyes still closed shut. 'What is the second son of the Wilson family doing here?'
The Wilson family is one of the loyalist families in his mafia. But he knows better than to trust anyone. They are only in for the profit after all.
"Can you get in on their conversation? I need to know what they are talking about."
"No. There's interference. They must have anticipated us...wait a second...there's somebody else in the room." Ian adjusts the scope on his binoculars to get a better look. But all he can see is the silhouette of a tall, sturdy, muscular figure standing in the shadow at the farthest corner of the room. "Dammit, I can't get a better view."
"It must be him, sir. The man behind Minhyuk."
"Do we go in?" though they needn't ask.
Justin slowly opens his eyes. He gazes up at the grand hotel. His excited nerves kicking in once more. This is the bit he lives for, the end of the chase, the violence, the blood, the pain. It has been a while since he had to put his murder game down.
He reaches for the glove compartment and pulls out a semiautomatic pistol and a silencer. He presses the magazine release, checks the magazine then slides it back in before grabbing the silencer and screwing it shut. He holsters the weapon in the waistband of his jeans, concealing it with his shirt.
His hand on the door handle. He opens the door. With one foot out. The front passenger door suddenly opens and closes just as abruptly.
Justin tenses. Pausing in his tracks.
Human presence doesn't always have to be seen to be felt. It's like electricity that weights the air. He feels that weight and withdraws his foot, sits back in his seat. His hand stealthily reaching behind, his fingers finding the grip of the gun, ready for action.
Swiftly, he turns his head toward the intruder, only to be halted once more.
From the passenger seat peers a baby-faced, doe-eyed girl of no more than eighteen. Like the purest doe in the forest. From the small and sweet face comes the most expressive, brilliant electric blue eyes, expelling the air out of his lungs. Breath evaporates from his chest. His heart thumps erratically. His mouth goes dry.
Fear weighs him down — an emotion he isn't so familiar with. He needs to breathe! He can't breathe! His body is paralyzed. His instincts say 'be easy' but...
Fuck. He's panicking.
The enchanting blue eyes gaze at him. As guileless as the last time he saw them. 'How can this be? How is she here right now?'
He's so screwed... it's her, the Gray family's mafia princess.
The dragon princess.
Michelle Gray.
The young girl locks eyes with him. His eyes drilling into hers, so black and deep, like a bottomless well: dark and cold. They are dragging her in, those eyes of his, and she can see herself falling under that dark well. She can't help but think — she had never seen such dark eyes with so much light in them. It then occurs to her that his eyes are the most beautiful she has ever seen.
Just like his.
The one who had treated her more gently than anyone else. But now... she can't even remember how he looks like.
She shakes her head, stopping that train of thought. 'It's all in the past now, Michelle. Don't think about him.'
Climbing out of that well. Bringing herself to reality. She breaks eye contact and looks outside through the dark tinted car window.
"Shit." She slides down on the seat and peers out slightly.
Justin is pulled from his trance, his eyes following the young girl's. From across the street, two burly figures are approaching. The two men come to a halt by the sidewalk. Their eyes searching.
Searching for someone.
Searching for her.
Michelle slides further down, her body completely out of view. She rolls her head to the side looking up at the man in the driver's seat. Eyes pleading. "Please," she whispers.
Justin's first thought or one of the thousands going through his head is to kick her out of the car. He wants absolutely nothing to do with her or her family, not anymore. It's her problem, not his. Until one of her pursuers turns and Justin spies a Wilson family crest tatted on the side of his neck barely visible over the white collar of the man's shirt.
The other man walks up to where the vehicle is parked.
"Shit, shit, shit." She moves even further down and sits in the foot-well drawing her knees up as she curls her elfin-body into the small space.
The man pries through the dark tinted car window. Michelle is already holding her breath. But when she sees his face, she stops breathing altogether and watches as he keeks through the window.
He frowns and walks away.
Justin's brow corrugates in a frown as his eyes move from the man to the girl and back again. 'Where the fuck are her guards?' He curses inwardly as he starts the car, slowly pulling into the steady traffic.
Ian who has witnessed what just transpired frowns, "What the fuck? Justin, where are you going?" he purses his lips in irritation when Justin deadens the connection without a reply. "Justin!" Ian bellows as he watches the vehicle drive farther away. Hot with fury, he flings the binoculars at the wall and watches it smash. "Fuck!!"
The whole room freezes with various degrees of chills up their spine. They look from one to another.
Ian paces the floor and his team stays out of his way. He's a big guy. Tall, muscular and angry. Unlike Justin's deceptive appearance, Ian Hunt is as ruthless as he looks. He's nicknamed 'the giant'. One blow is all it takes to knock out his opponents.
On the other hand, people find it easy to trust Justin Hunt. He has an easy-going style, a pleasant-looking face, but it's his conniving persona that makes him dangerous. He hides his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There is no indication of evil intent, no hint of self-deviant motives.
Justin doesn't care who gets hurt because his passion is power. He hides behind a congenial mask of concern even as he plans to control others. He never wastes a minute on anyone who is not in a position that offers him anything.
Justin is famous in the criminal world as a ruthless and cruel man who knows no mercy. Known and feared for his vicious and brutal methods of torture he uses on his victims, his heart is as cold as ice.
Nicknamed, the Jinn — a demon who roams the earth. He grants his victims only one wish – death.
In his position, it's simply mercy. He knows if he doesn't save them with the wonders of death. They will die in the horrors of life. He doesn't want to just shoot them though, he wants to see how long they can last while he disembowels them nice and slow. He wants to see the light go out in their eyes while he examines their innards.
Puncture a little hole in the heart. A quick death would be a disservice. Giving his victims time to reflect on their lives before they die, long enough for the blood to spill out of their heart and for the fear to wash over their body, slowly writhing in pain until eventually, they die,
Oh, how he enjoys it. And gets one hell of a kick out of it.
People say he's evil, but he claims he's just wired differently. Whichever, he doesn't care what anyone thinks of him as long as he gets what he wants. And he always gets what he wants. He acknowledges that he has odd methods, but they work.
Only Justin is capable of riling up and angering Ian to no end. He's his elder brother after all. No matter the cost, Ian can't disrespect his elder brother.
Ian drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. A way to calm his nerves. He looks up and surveys the room slowly, from face to face.
"Pack up. We're moving out." He orders. Seconds later, no questions asked, the room is filled with restless and bristling energy as Ian heads for the door.
He can't believe this is happening again.
*****
Justin pulls out his earpiece and drops it into the door pocket of the vehicle. He chances a glance at the girl beside him. She's now kneeling on the seat facing back looking through the rear window.
A small grin spreads across her elfin-face as she turns and plops down on the seat. She sighs audibly, her relief palpable.
"That was fucking close. Thanks, Mister. Now, if you can just drop me off right here, thank you."
Justin neither replies nor attempts to stop the vehicle. His face is hard and impassive as he stares ahead.
"Um...mister...if you could just drop me off here, I'd really appreciate it." She repeats thinking he might not have heard her the first time.
Oh, but he did. He isn't going to let her off that easy. He just needs to think of a plan.
He's incredulous as to how she could just jump into some random stranger's car. For someone born and raised in the mafia. That was beyond stupid...and reckless, even for her. Just thinking about it makes his blood boil. He glances once more at the expectant teen and a devious plan comes to fruition in his mind.
Yeah, that will do.