Page 33 of Pursuing the Egoist
“I give you my word,” Gustavo continued with a sad smile. “If you tell me the truth, nothing bad will happen to your family. I will take good care of them.No harm will come to them, and you will face a quick and painless end. But for this, you have to start talking.”
Minutes stretched. Gaston didn’t say a word.
“Your choice.” Gustavo straightened up and now scrutinized Gaston from above. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kill the elderly. Take the woman and the kid. They are yours to do as you please.”
“No. No! Stop!” Frantically, Gaston attempted to get up, but a hard kick to the chest from Gustavo returned him to the floor.
“Bluffing again.” Gustavo dropped his hand, the screen dead in his grip. He smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “Nevertheless, it’s the right time to start talking, Gaston, because the next call will be real.”
Standing in the shadows of the staircase, Greg fiddled with his phone. Familiar irritation scalded Yugo’s mind, narrowing his eyes. He opened his mouth to ask what was so important when Gustavo’s phone chimed.
“Excuse me for a moment.” A smile that didn’t reach his eyes settled over Gustavo’s face; he stepped back looking at the screen. His expression hardened, and harsh lines outlined his mouth. When he faced Gaston again, he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I must be an idiot, aren’t I?”
With a flick of his head, Gustavo stepped away from Gaston, pocketed his phone, and started pacing. His gaze searched the ceiling, then the metal cage in the corner, until it froze over the metal drain, embedded in the concrete floor. The pacing halted in the middle of the vast, damp space. He raised his head, looking out of the narrow window under the ceiling at the gray, cloudy sky. “Tell me, why are people so greedy? Why do they mistake magnanimity for weakness and try to take advantage of it? You do people a favor. You forgive their mistakes and give them another chance, and they stab you in the back at the worst moment possible.”
Ungluing himself from the wall, Yugo took a step forward. Gustavo seemed upset, and Yugo wondered if he did the right thing by letting him deal with his people. Especially the ones he considered friends. Working for Yugo’s father, Gustavo had been in this business longer than Yugo had. Still, he could never separate his feelings from the job. Easily getting attached to people, he had never been good with hard decisions. Yugo hated and loved this trait in Gustavo at the same time. Probably, that was the main reason for their friendship, as Yugo had never doubted Gustavo’s loyalty.
Yugo took another step. Cautiously examining the profile of his friend, he looked for signs of distress but only found anger.
“I forgave you when you lied to me saying you’d lost seven kilos. I knew you sold them to cover your gambling debt. I warned you not to repeat the same mistake and to repay every last cent.” It was the first time Yugo had heard about it. He glanced at Greg but could read nothing behind the dispassionate mask the man wore now.
Gustavo continued. “When you said the channel you were developing collapsed, as you couldn’t reach an agreement with the Turkish government, I believed you. But when you suddenly found money to pay me for the lost seven kilos, I had my suspicions that you sold the channel. And what a coincidence, a week later, Patrice opened his channel through Turkey.”
Gaston swallowed, now watching Gustavo’s every move with the utmost attention.
“I’m not a person to hot-headedly judge people. I had no evidence, so I opted to believe my friend, you. I warned you to watch yourself for you are being watched. But you assumed that my friendship and forgiveness were limitless. That you would get unlimited second chances because I’m the godfather of your daughter and a friend of your family.”
Gustavo’s head whipped to the side as he sliced Gaston’s face with an acute glare. “And now you have a poker debt of half a million…”
The bloody lips opened and closed, before Gaston wheezed, “Don’t try to make me look like a bad guy here. You are the one who gave me up.”
“Excuse me?” Eyes disappeared into slits, Gustavo balled his fists.
Saliva bubbling, Gaston spewed a current of rushed words. “Do you think I don’t know that you planned to use me as a scapegoat? I wouldn’t have lasted until the trials.”
“And how do you know that?” Yugo’s voice dripped with honey. He approached Gustavo and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Do you mind if I take it from here?”
Gustavo stepped back, but Yugo still read rage and indignation in his powerful stance and flinty eyes.
Gaston straightened his back. “Everyone knows that my usefulness to the S-Syndicate is exhausted. That I need to get out while I still can, because I won’t live long enough to face the trials. I had a call that confirmed it all.”
“Who called you?” Yugo asked.
“He didn’t give me his name. He said he was with the police, and he needed an opportunity, so did I. As an act of goodwill, he gave me half a million to cover my debt. There were specific instructions as to whom to contact and how. In exchange, I get clean documents, immunity, and safe passage out of the country. If no, I’ll go to prison, as I have been followed around by the police long enough to produce a watertight case.”
“What kind of instructions?” Gustavo asked from behind Yugo’s shoulder.
“I had to drop the date and the location to an officer who would be in the bar without approaching him directly. They sent me his picture.” Gaston wiped his mouth against his shoulder, leaving a reddish smudge over his torn, light-gray shirt, then lifted his chin in confrontation. “You left me no choice. I took the deal, that’s it. Can I see my daughter for the last time?”
“Hmm…” Yugo squatted down in front of Gaston, watching him with undisguised disgust. “Such a piece of shit, yet Gustavo protected you with passion. It’s sad, don’t you think? Let me tell you a secret. Your name was off the table long ago.”
“What did you say?” Gaston’s body trembled, eyes glossed over, as he shook his head in denial. “No, he said…”
Yugo smirked. Getting up, he brushed the invisible dust off his black pants. “And how often do the police pay someone half a million Euro as an act of goodwill?”
Gaston gaped, then started coughing. A mix of blood and saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
Facing Gustavo, Yugo pulled out a gun. “Do you want me to do it?”
