Page 21 of The Veil

She ignored me, closing the bathroom door. Sighing, I stepped backwards into the hallway, closing her doors. Leaning against the wall, I exhaled, sliding my hands into my pockets as I stared at the ceiling.

What had I gotten myself into? How was I supposed to protect her when I wanted to touch her this badly? I barely knew this girl, right? Wrong. There was something much deeper only my top three guys knew about. Tanya did not even know yet.

I did not give a damn about Isabelle’s precious virginity. Yes, it was attractive to me that she was not a whore like all the others, but that was not why she was in my home. I wish it had not been this way; the lies, the masks, the fake American accent, everything. To say that I was frustrated was an understatement. She did not deserve to live a life under a veil. I made a promise though, so I would need to keep it.

Trudging into my bathroom, I turned the water on, almost as hot as it could go. I slipped my clothes off, sinking down into the tub, hoping it would instantly relax me and wash away my stress. I ran my fingers through my hair then splashed my face trying to rid myself of the nightmare I was now trapped in. What did I agree to? Laying my head back, I closed my eyes recalling the moment the agreement was made. It was a year ago. I was in Spain on a business trip.

I was sitting in a coffee shop, minding my own business when a slightly older gentleman approached me. At first, I did not look up to see who it was until he spoke.

“Mr. Greco?” he asked.

I slowly peeled my eyes away from my newspaper, peering up at the man. “Can I help you?” I inquired, tilting my head.

Moments later, I realized who was standing before me as he removed his sunglasses for a moment. The man was Felipe Ayala, one of Europe’s most feared drug lords and weapons experts. In fact, I had bought some of my firearms from his family in the past, but our dealings never drifted beyond that. I was shocked that he bothered to approach me. I was even more shocked that he appeared nervous. Last I knew of him, Felipe was not nervous about anything. He thrived on intimidating people.

“Can I speak to you for a moment in private?” he hissed, his eyes darting around the room as if he suspected he was being followed.

I was skeptical, but I did not want to alarm him. I also would not play whatever game he was about to initiate. He was known for toying with his prey.

“You may speak here,” I mumbled, lighting a cigarette.

He sat down on the couch next to me then leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he spoke. “Mr. Greco, my name is Felipe,” he sneered.

Who did not know who he was? Everyone did! He continued in a tense whisper while he glanced around. I nodded, acknowledging but was annoyed that he acted as if I had no clue who he was.

“I have people after me and I need to see to it that should something happen to me, my daughter is looked after,” he blurted rapidly under his breath.

I took a drag of my cigarette, using a moment to process his request. I smirked, “And I look like a fucking babysitter to you?”

I did not allow him to intimidate me which took him by surprise. He appeared to be rewinding the words in his head with a serious expression before the corners of his lips curled up into an evil grin. He folded his hands together, locking his fingers as he glared into my eyes with authority.

“Let me start over as we are not on the same page,” he declared. “My name is Felipe Ayala.”

I sarcastically contorted my face into disbelief, my mouth gaping open. “The Felipe Ayala?” I smirked, glancing away as I took another drag of my cigarette.

He squinted as he pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket, lighting it. “Mr. Greco, there is no need to be an asshole.” Taking a long puff of his smoke, he scolded, “We are not enemies, but I need your help because you're the only one who can actually assist me.”

I pointed my cigarette at him, grinning as I wagged it in his direction. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

I stood to walk away, but he reached up, grabbing my wrist. My gaze snapped to his chubby fingers tightly wrapped around my arm. Rolling my eyes, I jerked away from him as I leaned over, snuffing my cigarette out in the ashtray on the table.

“Please, sit,” he ordered in a menacing tone.

Normally, I became enraged when someone like him touched me, but I chose not to make a scene. I sat down, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth as I leaned back, resting my arm on the back of the couch. He pulled a black folder out of his bag, dropping it in on the table before me. I proceeded to open it, flipping through the pages while scanning over the information I was given. I closed it, trying to hand it over to him, but he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why do I need to watch your daughter,” I interrogated, “and why is someone after you?”

He slightly raised his hands, gesturing for me to keep the folder. “Turn to page ten,” he instructed.

I thumbed through the pages until I came to one with photos in a plastic pocket. I angled my head as my eyes fell on a photo of a young woman with light brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. Her sun kissed skin was flawless, and a radiant smile caught my attention immediately.

“What's this?” I asked, exhaling.

“That's my daughter, Isabelle,” he gushed proudly, shifting in his seat.

I looked through the photos one by one, making mental notes of how stunning she was. Now, I was more curious about why he was asking me of all people. I was a well-established businessman, but I was in no way a good guy. The last place she needed to be, was under my watch and protection. She was trouble. I could sense it. Or maybe it was I who was trouble. Either way, this was a terrible idea.

“Why you?” he chuckled as if he read my mind.

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