The bitch thought she could outsmart him?
Jake's lips curled into a venomous smile as he watched her disappear into the labyrinthine streets of the slum.
He'd been tailing her since she landed in this godforsaken country.
Every move, every twitch – he knew it all.
*His orders were clear: stop her.
By any means necessary.
*
He punched in a number, his voice a low growl.
"She's heading towards the church. Diego's territory. Let's see how well she plays with the wolves." A thrill, dark and sharp, shot through him.
This wasn't just a job; it was a *game*.
"This is going to be fun."
***
**Vivian (POV)**
Miguel's info was a breadcrumb, a tiny, pathetic crumb.
But in this concrete jungle of desperation, I'd take it.
Zhuang Yu and I navigated the twisting alleyways, the air thick with the stench of decay and simmering resentment.
Each shadow seemed to hold a pair of eyes, judging, calculating.
My stilettos were definitely *not* made for this terrain.
Note to self: next time,复仇 (fùchóu - revenge) in flats.
"This place gives me the creeps," I muttered, pulling my designer scarf tighter around my face.
Not like it would do much good if things went south.
Zhuang Yu, ever the stoic guardian, just scanned the surroundings, his eyes like chips of ice.
"Stay alert. We don't know who's watching."
*Duh.*
The "breadcrumb" led us to a dive bar that looked like it hadn't seen a lick of paint since the disco era.
"El Hoyo" – The Hole.
Apt.
The music was a chaotic blend of reggaeton and desperation, and the air hung heavy with the aroma of cheap booze and broken dreams.
As soon as we stepped inside, it was like a record scratch.
Every eye in the place locked onto us.
Not exactly a welcoming committee.
I could practically taste the hostility.
*Okay, Vivian, time to channel your inner Meryl Streep.
*
Instead of shrinking back, I did the opposite.
I sashayed towards a group of guys huddled around a table, radiating the kind of menace that would make a pit bull whimper.
Confidence is key.
"Hola, muchachos," I purred, my voice dripping with fake sweetness.
"Looking for a good time. This place looks… lively."
One of them, a hulking brute with more tattoos than teeth, leered at me.
"You lost, *muñeca*? This ain't exactly tourist central."
"Honey, I'm *never* lost," I shot back, batting my eyelashes.
"Just looking for someone. Maybe you know him? Answers to the name… Miguel."
Zhuang Yu positioned himself near the bar, his presence a silent promise of pain if anyone got too handsy.
He was my personal shield, my very own "get out of jail free" card.
The brute chuckled, a sound like rocks grinding together.
"Miguel? You got business with Miguel? That's Diego's business."
*Diego. Bingo.*
"Oh, I'm sure Diego wouldn't mind sharing," I said, reaching into my purse and pulling out a wad of bills.
"I'm feeling generous tonight."
The brute's eyes widened slightly.
Money talks, even in the slums.
He signaled to another guy, who disappeared into the back room.
*Showtime.*
The next few minutes were a masterclass in BS.
I laughed, I flirted, I pretended to be the ditziest blonde this side of the equator.
All the while, my eyes were darting around, cataloging every detail: the greasy stains on the walls, the flickering neon sign, the nervous twitch of the bartender's eye.
"So, you like it here, huh?" I asked, leaning closer to the brute.
"Must be exciting, living on the edge like this."
He grinned, revealing a gold tooth.
"We take care of our own."
"That's good to know," I said, my voice suddenly hardening.
"Because I'm about to become one of your own. I just need a little information first."
Then, the music stopped.
All eyes turned towards the entrance.
And there he was.
Jake.
Flanked by two goons who looked like they'd been carved out of granite.
*Double the trouble.
Just my freaking luck.
*
Zhuang Yu moved instantly, placing himself between me and the newcomers.
The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a switchblade.
"Well, well, well," Jake drawled, his eyes glinting with malice.
"Look what the cat dragged in. Thought you could hide from me, *puta*?"
I took a step back, bumping into Zhuang Yu.
His hand found mine, his grip firm and reassuring.
"Looks like the party just got a little more crowded," I muttered.
Zhuang Yu didn't break eye contact with Jake.
His voice was low, dangerous.
"Vivian, stay behind me."
Jake smirked.
"You think you can protect her? You're just a bodyguard."
Zhuang Yu's jaw tightened.
"I'm whatever I need to be." He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine.
"When I say go, run. Got it?"
"Run where?"
He gave my hand a light squeeze, his eyes full of unspoken words.
"Just run."
Jake took a step forward, his goons mirroring his movement.
"This ends now."
The stench hit Vivian like a wall – a miasma of rotting garbage, stale sweat, and something indefinably…dangerous.
The air in the *favela* thrummed with a nervous energy, a stark contrast to the sterile, perfume-laden air of the Upper East Side she'd so recently inhabited.
Or rather, *Vivian* had inhabited.
*She* was just borrowing the body.
For 90 days.
She clutched the worn photograph Maria had given her – a grainy image of a man with a serpent tattoo coiling around his neck.
Diego.
The man who held the key to unlocking the secrets linking the New York elite to this pit.
"Are you sure about this, *chica*?" Zhuang Yu's voice, low and laced with concern, cut through the noise.
He was a shadow, a silent guardian, his presence a comforting weight against the oppressive atmosphere.
He looked less like a bodyguard here and more like a predator, his eyes constantly scanning, assessing threats.
Vivian forced a smile.
"Positive. Besides," she added, tilting her head, "aren't you supposed to be protecting me? What better way than to dive headfirst into danger?"
He didn't smile back.
"My job is to keep you alive, not watch you commit suicide."
"Dramatic," she murmured, pushing past a group of children playing in the dirt.
The truth was, she *was* terrified.
But the fragmented memories flickering in her mind – flashes of a deal gone wrong, a betrayal, a life stolen – fueled her forward.
Maria, a woman with kind eyes and calloused hands, led them deeper into the labyrinthine alleyways.
"Diego controls everything here," she whispered, her voice tight with fear.
"Drugs, weapons…everything. He doesn't like outsiders."
Suddenly, a figure darted from the shadows, blocking their path.
Jake.
His eyes, cold and devoid of emotion, locked onto Vivian.
"You're making a mistake," he said, his voice a low growl.
"Go back to your gilded cage. This isn't your world."
"My world is wherever I choose it to be," Vivian retorted, her voice surprisingly steady.
She could feel Zhuang Yu tense beside her, ready to strike.
"Diego wants to see you," Jake continued, ignoring Zhuang Yu.
"He has a message for your…benefactors."
Vivian's mind raced.
This was it.
The confrontation she'd been both dreading and anticipating.
"Lead the way."
The encounter with Diego was a masterclass in intimidation.
He sat on a makeshift throne of stacked crates, surrounded by heavily armed men.
The serpent tattoo on his neck seemed to writhe in the dim light.
"You're a long way from Park Avenue, *muñeca*," Diego sneered, his eyes raking over her.
"What brings you to my kingdom?"
"I'm looking for information," Vivian said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
"Information about a business deal. A deal that went very, very wrong."
Diego laughed, a harsh, grating sound.
"Information has a price. And you, *muñeca*, look like you're running low on currency."
Suddenly, a commotion erupted near the back of the room.
Miguel, a nervous, twitchy member of Diego's crew, was being dragged forward.
He was bleeding, his eyes wide with terror.
"He's been talking," Diego said, his voice dangerously soft.
"Telling secrets to our little visitor."
Vivian saw her opportunity.
"He knows something about the deal, doesn't he? Something you don't want me to know."
Diego's eyes narrowed.
He raised his hand, and one of his men stepped forward, a machete glinting in the light.
"No!" Vivian shouted, acting purely on instinct.
"Don't kill him! I'll tell you what they're planning. I know everything!"
It was a bluff, a desperate gamble.
But it worked.
Diego hesitated, his eyes filled with suspicion.
"Tell me," he demanded.
"Tell me everything."
As Vivian began to weave a tale, a fabricated narrative based on the fragments of memories swirling in her mind, she felt Zhuang Yu's hand brush against hers.
A silent reassurance.
A promise of protection.
Later, as they escaped the *favela*, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Vivian leaned against Zhuang Yu.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For having my back."
He looked down at her, his expression unreadable.
"It's my job," he said, his voice gruff.
But his eyes…his eyes held a flicker of something more.
Something that hinted at the deeper connection she felt, a connection that transcended their current roles.
Back in her safe house, Vivian replayed the encounter with Diego in her mind.
Miguel…she had to find him.
He was her only lead.
She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper.
It was a partial address, scribbled in a shaky hand.
As she stared at the address, a sharp pain pierced her skull.
A new memory, clearer and more vivid than the others, flooded her mind.
A face.
A name.
And the chilling realization that she was playing a game far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.
*Jake watched them disappear into the night.
He picked up his phone, dialing a number.
"She's getting closer," he said, his voice tight with frustration.
"I need more resources. This is getting out of control."*
*The voice on the other end was cold and dismissive.
"Handle it. Or you'll be replaced."*
*Jake slammed the phone down, his hand trembling.
He knew what he had to do.
He had to eliminate the threat.
Permanently.
*