Page 13 of Dark Obsession

The greasy-haired one scoffs, trying to play tough. “We don’t know shit, man. You think waving that piece around scares us?”

I move the gun a bit upward and pull the trigger, the gunshot ringing out in the cramped room. The bullet flies just above the dealer’s head, punching a hole in the wall behind him. Plaster rains down, and the greasy-haired bastard flinches, his bravadoevaporating in an instant.

“Fuck! Okay, okay, man, shit!” he stammers, hands flying up in surrender. “We’ve been getting new stuff, alright? Good shit. From south of the border.”

His partner nods quickly, eyes wide with fear. “Yeah, man, straight from the cartel in Mexico.”

I lower the gun slightly, my eyes narrowing. “Which cartel?”

They both swallow hard, glancing at each other. I already know the answer, but I need to hear them say it.

“Molina,” the greasy one mutters quietly.

That’s exactly what I was expecting to hear. Molina. The name rings in my head like a warning bell, but I keep my face neutral. The last thing I need is for these two to get more skittish than they already are.

The smaller dealer, the one with the shaved head, starts to panic. “Don’t say anything, man,” he pleads, his voice cracking. “The Molina Cartel, they’re trying to keep their move into Chicago low key. You don’t want to fuck with them.”

His fear is obvious. I keep my gun steady, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. I could tear into these guys, drag the information out of them, but I know better. Not only would it be unprofessional, but it would also be counterproductive. Push too hard, and they’ll be too scared to talk. That’s not how you get what you need in this game.

“I’m not going to run my mouth,” I say calmly, “but you are going to give me every scrap of information you have. Right now.”

Greasy exchanges a look with his partner before nodding frantically. “Alright, alright. Look, we don’t know much, okay? Just what we hear on the street.”

I keep my gaze locked on him, waiting.

“There’s a guy,” he continues. “Big deal in the city. Goes by the name Dollar.”

Dollar. I know him. A mid-level player who’s been pushing weight in the city for years. If he’s involved with the Molina Cartel, this is bigger than I thought.

“Where can I find him?” I ask.

Greasy swallows hard. “Dollar runs a strip club called The Velvet Den,” he says, his voice shaky. “It’s in Little Village, near 26th. He’s there most of the time when he’s not moving product.”

Little Village. It makes sense. It’s one of the grimier parts of the city, perfect for Dollar’s kind of business. I keep my gun pointed at them a moment longer, letting their fear linger.

The two of them are barely holding it together, their eyes wide, waiting to see if I’m going to pull the trigger or let them walk out of here breathing.

Finally, I lower the gun, clicking the safety back on and tucking it into my jacket. The visible relief on their faces is nearly comical.

I pull out a small roll of bills and toss it onto the table in front of them. “Your next few rounds are on me,” I say. “But remember—I was never here.”

They nod eagerly, grabbing the cash like it’s their lifeline. “Yeah, man. Whatever you say. We won’t say a word.”

I give them a final nod and turn to leave. I know I played this just right—enough fear to keep them in line, but not so much that they won’t be willing to talk again. They’ll be scared, sure. But they’ll also remember that the Ivanov Bratva rewards loyalty. That’s how to manipulate them.

I step out of the back room and into the cold Chicago air, already thinking about my next move.

Time to pay Dollar a visit.

I hop into the car and fire up the engine, the low growl of it cutting through the quiet. The sky’s gray, the streets slick with morning rain, and I know I don’t have time to waste. It’s early afternoon, but the day’s already slipping away.

I need answers before nightfall.

If the Molina Cartel is moving into Chicago and targeting me, I’m in a tight spot. But deep down, I always knew this was coming. You don’t do what I did and expect not be hunted down. It was only a matter of time before they came after me.

But last night changed things. Elena being in danger is a fucking problem. The cartel will use her again, no doubt about it. Hell, it’s exactly what they did at the club. They went after her first, knowing it’d draw me in. And it worked.

They know my weakness now.

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