Zayn had slept that night on both sides of his shoulders, stomach, back then awoke on his back. Sweat had made its home in his shirt, bedsheets, and pillow. He stared at the white ceiling of his room, sunlight beaming through the blinds directly across from him, and from the corner of his left eye, he noticed the black suitcase of two million dollars.
Ecstatic with wild morning hair.
He knew what his first move would be with his newfound money, and he confirmed it while showering in his steamy restroom, eyes closed with shampoo flowing down his face. While under the warm water, he remembered the dream he had. A short yet menacing dream of an empty grave with a blank gravestone. A shovel beside the already dug hole. In his dream, Zayn remembered he had stood beside the empty grave for what seemed like a long time. It ended the way it started.
After finishing his shower and dressing into blue jeans, a slim long sleeve white t-shirt and black sneakers, he ate his oatmeal breakfast with a banana, noted the time was 9:13AM, then walked out of the apartment with the briefcase in hand. He had hid more then half of the money under his bed and speculated that he didn't need it for what he was going to purchase.
Maniac.
He found the white sedan he shared with Volkan and Soraya parked across the street. Zayn had sent a text message to his friends to deliver the car last night if they could. If they couldn't, Zayn planned to take the bus, even if he was walking around with a million dollars. Nobody else knew that. And nobody had ever jumped him in the streets before. So why would they that day?
Confidence or arrogance?
Unusual for Novem, but the sun warmed his cold body. A clear blue sky for a day of endless possibilities. Zayn didn't greet the usual men gathered on the left of the street smoking. He crossed the dirt road and looped around to the driver's side of the car. He reached into the upper gap of the tire and the car's engine. The key was quickly found. Zayn opened the door, set the briefcase in the passenger side, locked the doors then turned the car on.
"Thanks," Zayn texted in the group chat of himself, Soraya and Volkan. He guessed they'd still be asleep on a Saturday morning.
But that Saturday was a special day. He could feel it in his bones as he set his phone's Google Maps application to an address in the Hydra neighborhood. Then he drove off. Dirt circling in his tracks as he accelerated to the hill.
The drive was trafficless and faster than normal. Perhaps because Zayn was thinking about what he would buy and his sister's reaction. He entered a neighborhood of large gated villa homes, colored white, black and dark brown, two stories and some even three. Families opened their gates as the Range Rovers and Audi SUVs reversed out into the streets. Zayn sat in his Peugeot and watched them laugh and kiss their father's or mother's cheeks.
He clenched his teeth then looked away until they all drove off down the hill and likely into the city. The store he came to was to his right, three shops over. A black theme store with reinforced glass doors, the chains already rolled up as the owner opened the doors at 9:00 AM sharp.
Zayn stepped out of the vehicle, briefcase in hand, locked the car doors, then walked forward, practically leaning against the cars to his right but not enough to activate their alarms. The store's display he focused on read Villa de Luxe Estates.
"Aywa," he whispered, opening the door and entering.
The store had white walls, a dark brown wooden counter across the front door, bone white chairs on the right and on the left, black tables and water bottles, a glass desk in the far left corner of store. Miss Jenna sat at her desk typing on her laptop's keyboard. She was in her early thirties, short blonde hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin with golden earrings glistening. Her clothes visibly ironed, a white and black striped blouse with loose black pants. Quite an elegant woman with a minimally furnished and modern business. She glanced at her store's entrance.
"Morning, Miss Jenna," Zayn said.
"Good morning, Zayn. Here to see the new houses in construction?" Her left eyebrow rose and a grin formed on her face.
He nodded.
The next ten minutes consisted of Zayn waiting for the printed list of recently built homes in the area of Algiers, then reviewing the list until he landed on page eight. A light brown colored exterior mixed with white, an extended living room over the entrance of the house below, with a long vertical window above the door, with a miniature river in the house acting like an indoor swimming pool. The villa had four bedrooms and bathrooms, a loft area, a backyard with enough space for a bigger swimming pool and a gated front entrance for vehicles to park.
"I knew you'd like that one." Miss Jenna laughed. "You've got a contemporary style, Zayn. How's your architecture degree going?"
"A lot of homework," Zayn lied. He had decided about six months ago that he couldn't tell her he was a selling drugs as his work, and his delivery driver excuse wouldn't work because delivery drivers didn't make enough money to buy a villa unfortunately. So to Zayn, there had been only one way to explain why someone was visiting a real estate business all the time. He faked studying architecture.
"I'm happy for you. Study for your dreams," Miss Jenna said.
"It's different today, Miss Jenna."
"How so?" She stepped to the chair cross from Zayn then sat down. She tilted her head left and waited for an explanation.
"You ever heard of those stories where the grandparents were wealthy and once they passed away, they gave their money?"
"Who hasn't? We all wish it would happen to us." She smiled. "I still wish my grandparents left me a lot of money to this day. It would've made my retirement come quicker and easier."
"I'd like to buy this villa." Zayn tapped the picture of the house with his index finger on page eight.
"That villa cost three hundred thousand dollars, Zayn." Miss Jenna leaned forward. "How? You're joking . . ."
"Can you get the documents to sign? I'd like to buy it right now." Zayn kept an emotionless face as he conducted business, but inside, inside he was jumping around like a child in a playground. The bulk of his excitement came from wanting to show his little sister her new home. Her forever home.
Miss Jenna stood. "I don't know if your playing around or not . . . but okay, Zayn. I hope you know I don't like jokes about my business." She turned and made her way to the black door which led to the storage room.
Zayn moved his briefcase under the table and out of the security cameras views in the corners of the store. He pulled out several bundles of cash until it equaled a little over three hundred thousand dollars based on his estimates. If it was more, he didn't care. Miss Jenna could take it as tips. Zyn closed his briefcase then organized the bundles of cash on the glass table in front of him. He left his seat and walked to the front door behind him to lock it. Security.
Miss Jenna strolled out of the storage room with a folder and a pen. She kicked the door closed, and when she turned to Zayn and saw the money on the table, her grip on the folder disappeared, papers hit the ground, the pen hit the ground and her hands stayed motionless, stretched out in front of her.
"I'm ready to buy the house, Miss Jenna." Zayn smiled.
Within an hour of the documentings placed in front of Zayn, Miss Jenna ran the cash in her machine to verify validity. Zayn signed many pages, agreed to the responsibility of the land, provided his identification, bank information and address. Then Miss Jenna provided a service to Zayn for free. She didn't accept cash payments, but she agreed to deposit the money of the house into her own account to minimize suspicion. If Zayn deposited three hundred thousand dollars, the bank would likely investigate such a large transaction. Miss Jenna had a history of high purchase amounts due to her work. She would then purchase the villa under Zayn's name and finalize the deal.
"How smooth of you, young Zayn," Omayra whispered into his ears.
"I'm happy for you, Zayn," she said, bundling all of the documents and signatures. "You've been studying and working hard. You deserve the house. Plus, I get a very large percentage of this deal, so I'm glad I met you."
"Thank you, Miss Jenna. I appreciate you helping me buy the home."
"With your father having passed away, I know you don't have anyone else to help." She stood. "If you need anything else in the future, let me know. I wish you the best for yourself and your little sister." Miss Jenna handed the keys of the house, copies of the contract and signed documents, then nodded. "You deserve it."
Zayn stared at the keys dangling in front of him. He took them, the documents, then the contract, sweet as honey. "Take care, Miss Jenna."
"You too, Zayn. Any contact will be sent to your email if necessary. I'll have the money processed by end of today."