CHAPTER FIVE
AVA'S POV
People change. It is something that I had to come to terms with as the hours turned into days, and the days turned into months. Two months, to be precise. Two months had passed since my origin story.
Time well spent planning for this very night. The night was when all of our scheming and plotting would finally come to fruition. It was also spent with the man I had agreed to help take over a crumbling empire.... That is, if we succeeded.
Sometimes, I would replay the sound of his name in my head due to the exotic thing that always came with the pronunciation. "Cristobal". Pretty exotic indeed.
I was a changed woman now. New attitude and everything. I even had a new face and name that came with the "whole reformed package".
The face thing was the one I struggled to let go of the most. With all the complications that came with it. I couldn't sleep properly the way I used to. The skin would itch whenever I cried, and the worst part was the fact that I had to curtail myself from feeling too much of the holy trinity. The big ones, as Cristobal called them.
Fury. Melancholy. Dread,
It was a whole thing when I was recovering. But I took everything in stride. This was my decision anyway. Don't get me wrong, it almost took everything from me, but I eventually survived. And now, as I perched upon my seat, all the pain I had to deal with to get here finally get here made sense.
I chuckled softly again, amused as a thought sparked my mind.
"The Gunslinger".
Sometimes, I would contemplate and laugh at Cristobal's sense of humour for giving me that name. A moniker well suited for some man who probably knew the ins and outs of the best weaponry New York had to offer. Not some crazy lady hung up in getting sweet revenge on her dear Ex-husband, sitting precariously in an underground speakeasy that only hosted high-end customers and dangerous secrets notorious to the city's underbelly. "Great... Just my type of style, isn't
The night was still very young, and my tequila remained untouched. The bartender had been glaring at me since I got here. To be fair, I couldn't blame him. It wasn't every day you stepped into a joint, duly accompanied by stone-faced men.
I smirked a little when I recalled how our "Notorious" waw. It was so obvious when we entered, the entire vibe of the lounge area changed.
The memory was fresh, and the glances I remembered shooting towards our direction did not read "we were duly welcomed". Some of the patrons even shifted across their seats, their lips suddenly shut once their eyes met with mine.
That was by the way. We were here and we were set everywhere across the place.
Especially the seating area, which was arranged typically.
Two columns of three round tables, both divided by a maroon aisle. Encircling each were six stools, seats which my goons claimed in a scattered formation—two men in front, four at the centre row, and one each at the far ends; however, they sat, the message was abundantly clear.
We owned this place now.
The funny thing was, I could probably guess his stare wasn't because of our presence. I mean, a face mask with the bare fang of a tiger etched in front covered my mouth, veiling all except my eyes.
It was a peculiar choice of accessory, but we didn't want to take any risk with "my new appearance" yet. But it still sucked.
Everything about it pissed me off.
The way the fabric clung to my skin.... Sucked.
The fact that it made me look like a nerd's wet fantasy of a female assassin... Sucked
And the fact, they still mandated me to wear it..... Sucked even more. They said it had something to do with it being the best version available, but I knew that was bullshit. It wasn't a stretch to not put past them having their fun at my expense, but that was. "At least I could speak still despite this shit clinging to my skin.
The bartender's gaze persisted, though. Even as I minded my business. He kept it up until I had had enough, and when I was about to tear him one — a customer approached beside me, snatching his attention away.
"Finally," I heard myself whisper before my back slumped against the backrest of my stool, savouring the cool, soothing glaze of the saloon.
I couldn't put it, but something about the place was so.... relaxing. It was so relaxing, the churning in my gut stopped. And like an enthralled guest, my eyes stayed lifted to the sweeping floodlights that traipsed between the bar and the lounge area.
Too bad he had to ruin it. I barely relaxed, and now, all of a sudden, his fragrance was the only thing I smelled. His presence blistered from behind into my space like hot sauna breeze, blushing against my cheeks. It was so intoxicating; I had to snap my neck away from his lithe form as he sat beside me.
"Sorry, I was late. Some Misses had to be taken care of before.... You know, Playboy stuff.
"Yes, I clearly understand that you have no respect for the levity of this matter," I smirked at his remark. My downturned lips now flipping unexpectedly. This fool seemed to always have that effect on me.... And I hated it.
"Touche..." He stopped, taking his eyes off his glass and looking straight in my direction, and his reaction — seemed genuine enough. It was quite rare to see that lazy, emerald gaze he normally wore now gaped wide, scanning me down before he eventually looked away to casually sip his cocktail.
"Ok.... Ok, I see you. Although when I said less revealing, not cosplay as Mileena." He muttered, his voice husky over the rim of his glass, "And come on, you didn't think the guys were serious, did you?".
"Really. Just look at who's speaking. You look like you just got off a golf exhibition. I playfully scoffed at his comment towards me, finally bringing my glass up to my face to hide my embarrassment at his strange choice of fashion. "Are those... Wait, are those Jorts I see you wearing?!!"
"Yes, they are. Listen, dear, sometimes you gotta underdress to showcase your higher power. Besides — "he leaned forward, dangerously closing the distance between us. A strand of his hair even slid off from his sprawling crown, splitting his left eye in half as his breath tinged my nose.
"They are here".
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