Word count: 2.2k

My hands clenched and unclenched into fists at my sides as I slowly approached the large black gate. The edges of it were lined with gold trim that created intricate designs, the letters "DS" was written in big, bronze letters directly in the middle, contrasting heavily against the dark back drop. There were two armed guards dressed in black tuxedos, black balaclavas, and wielding large guns in their hands. God this was so stupid. Why the hell did I have to let Graves get in my head like that? I wished I had my earpiece, a pistol, hell even a fucking knife. But I was left defenseless, a sitting duck waiting to get shot at.

My hips swayed left to right as I progressed, it felt nice not being weighed down by tens of pounds of military gear, I only wished it was under different circumstances. Ambient sounds of the party filled my ears the closer I got, some champagne glasses clinked together, hushed chatter, and soft jazz music could be heard. My gaze flitted all over the mansion before eyeing the guards carefully, my palms becoming slick with sweat, why hadn't they noticed me? Should I call out to them? Maybe just say hi? Those thoughts flew out of the window as they raised their guns at me, one of them shooting at the ground right in front of my feet. My entire body flinched as my hands shot up high above my head. "De rodillas (On your knees)!" The one who shot at my feet yelled. God I wished I paid more attention to Alejandro's Spanish.

My eyebrows furrowed, my hands still high above my head, "Wha-" before I could finish, one of them walked to my side and smashed the butt of his gun behind my legs causing my whole body to fall forward, my knees scraping harshly against the cobbled walkway as I landed on top of them. "Por qué estás aquí (Why are you here)?" One of them shouted at me, pointing his gun at my chest. My throat ran dry. What. The. Fuck. Is. He. Saying? If the reason I die is because I don't know fucking Spanish, I will be pissed. "Information?" I asked, my tone having an edge of uncertainty to it. The two guards looked between each other before nodding.

One of them pressed down on an earpiece beneath their black balaclava, his gun never straying from my chest. "Una chica dice que tiene información (Some girl says she has information)," he quickly informed whoever was on the other side of his radio. My hands began to shake above my head, but I kept an impassive look on my face in order to come off as unbothered when in reality I was anything but. Some muffled orders of Spanish sounded out from the earpiece that I couldn't quite make out. Not that I'd understand it anyway. One of the guards quickly slung his rifle over his shoulder before pulling out a black sack from his pocket. 

In just a second, the fibre was pulled over my head roughly, temporarily blinding my vision. My heartbeat began to pound rapidly inside of my chest, my entire body trembling. Please don't let this be how it ends, please, please. One of the guards tightly gripped my arm before yanking me up to my feet. His hands slowly patted me down for weapons, feeling my body up a little too thoroughly around my ass and breasts which had me fuming inwardly with anger. Thank God they couldn't see my face, and thank God I didn't have my knife because the entire fucking mission would've been compromised right then and there. After tapping me on my rear he shoved me, my boots stumbling beneath my legs.

Slowly I tried to make my way forward, my feet tripping around as I attempted to figure where I was supposed to be going. One of the guards angrily wrapped his hand around my neck from behind, dragging me forward as I struggled to match his pace. The hell did he expect? That I would just know my way with a fucking bag over my head? Rolling my eyes I continued to aimlessly walk through the courtyard, almost tumbling over my feet multiple times. "Nos divertiríamos contigo (We'd have fun with you)," the man whispered darkly through the sack, his breath somehow hot enough to be felt through the rough material. 

Eventually I heard a door open in front of me, the coolness of the AC whipped across my form as goosebumps emerged on my skin for a second time. Jesus, it was already cold enough outside, why the hell did they have to turn the temperature down to Antarctic levels inside of the bloody building? Oh God... I'm turning into a British person. This is way worse that I could've ever imagined. My train of thought was stolen from me when I was roughly pushed inside of an elevator, my head smacking against the very back wall. Groaning softly, I tried to reach up to the spot on my head before the bag was ripped from my it.

My eyes narrowed down at the guard standing before me, if he was the one who felt me up, I was about two seconds away from snapping his neck. "Hermana..." the guard whispered before I realized it was Alejandro. A soft sigh expelled itself from my lips as I relaxed beneath his gaze, "Alejandro..." my eyebrows furrowed once I finally registered he was dressed like a guard, "How did yo-" he cut me off, shaking his head. "No time," he started, "Listen, give them good intel in there. Don't lie, tell them everything they want to know or you'll die here," he quickly explained, his gaze darting between my eyes. Swallowing harshly, I nodded my head, "Tell them everything?" I mumbled quietly. "Everything..." Alejandro reiterated. 

The elevator shook to a stop and he quickly stepped to the right of me as the doors opened. The man on the other side licked his lips, eyeing my body up and down, "Que mujer tan fina (Such a fine woman)..." he muttered to himself, readjusting the crotch area of his jeans. My eyes were beginning to narrow before I stopped myself, I needed to contain my anger or my brains would decorate the stone walls surrounding me. "Esta ella (This her)?" He asked Alejandro, glancing over at him. Alejandro kept his head angled toward the ground, "Si Senor (Yes sir)," he replied, his hands clasped together in front of his lap. 

The man--clad in tight jeans, a beige dress shirt with small designs decorating it, and a large belt buckle--glanced over at me once again, his eyes raking up and down my body. "You got a name gorgeous?" He asked, his voice obviously lowering in an attempt at seduction. It was truly nothing short of fucking repulsive. Somehow I was able to contain the disgusted look begging to form on my face. "People call me Y/n," I mumbled in return, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on my hips for too long, or the way he kept readjusting his jeans. "Let's go... Y/n," he ordered, nodding over at me before turning around. 

My eyes narrowed down at him now that he couldn't see my face, his stupid bald head glinted uglily in the dim lighting of the corridor. The guard behind me, dressed up in what looked to be a grey tracksuit and balaclava, harshly shoved me from behind, almost causing my feet to come out from under me. "I want to see El Sin Nombre," I mumbled from behind the bald man, the guard pushing me forward once again. Baldy whipped around, chuckling before his eyes darkened, "Ella quiere ver a la jefa (She wants to see the boss)," he laughed, glancing back at the guard. Shaking his head, he took two large strides toward me before his hands grasped around my shirt, yanking me up close to him. Too close. "You're only alive because you may have some information," he growled down at me, licking his lips and evilly smirking before shoving me back.

Is there an order around here to shove people around? I mean fuck, how many times will I be pushed today? He turned around to look at me once again, "And it better be good, hermosa- or I'm going to have lots of fun with you," he stated in a sing-song voice, the sound of it making me feel sick to my stomach. "You only speak unless spoken to," he continued as he walked through the hall, his hips swaying a lot. Even more than mine. My lips pressed together, having to conceal a smirk as I trailed behind him. We passed different polished wooden doors as we walked, some had windows looking into what seemed to be expansive cellars of very expensive wine. Others were barren, leaving it up to the imagination. 

We began to turn down a curve of the hallway before the man leading me stopped at on open door, peering inside. Two cartel members were working, standing in front of a large wooden table with weights and bags of white powder next to them. One of them was snorting some of the substance while the other one was packaging it. "Qué carajo estás haciendo (The fuck are you doing)?" The bald man barked at the member with cocaine decorating his nostrils. "He estado despierto por días (I have been up for days)," he explained, waving his hands in the air before taking a step closer to baldy who just placed his hands on his hips. "El jefa dijo que no hay drogas (The boss said no drugs)," he declared, his voice rising with each word.

The drugged up man nodded, "Diego, Sólo estoy tratando de mantenerme alerta, sabes (Diego, I'm just trying to stay sharp, you know)?" He explained himself, taking a step forward. At least Mexican Mr. Clean has a name now. Diego nodded his head before rolling up the sleeves to his dress shirt. In one fluid motion he launched his fist into the other man's face sending him crashing into the wall with a mean ass right hook. The man attempted to stumble back up, but Diego had already slammed his knuckles into his cheekbone causing him to double down on the floor. "Seguir. Maldito. Pedidos. (Follow. Fucking. Orders)," Diego roared, sending a blow between each word. 

The man began to cry out in agony, clutching his stomach as Diego sent the iron tip of his boot launching into his flesh, tearing it jaggedly. Diego laughed darkly before slamming the sole of his shoe directly into the side of the crying man's face, a loud sickening crunch filling up the otherwise silent corridor. The man's jaw hung limply, looking as if it was melting off his head like an overheated candle. Blood sprayed from the open wound, the man's screams soon becoming garbled by the red fluid filling his lungs. My throat ran dry as I harshly gulped in an attempt to bring some moisture back to my mouth.

If my heart wasn't already racing straight out of my chest before, it sure was now. The mildew scent floating around the hallway began to intermix with the thick iron stench that radiated off the crying man's body, my shoulders shuddered as I tore my gaze away from him. Blood coated the floors and seeped through the cracks and divots of the wood, some of the crimson substance even landed on me, covering bits of my previously white shirt in its deep red color. The other member who was previously packaging dropped down to his knees next to his buddy, cupping the side of his face and trying to shove the jaw back into place. The efforts were futile, and the man continued to wail loudly.  

Diego shook out his hand, the knuckles of it dripping with blood as he turned his attention toward me once again. Shakily, I took another step forward, my eyes wide as saucers as my gaze darted from Diego to the now unconscious man on the floor laying in a pool of his own blood. "Las Almas is at war," Diego stated, not paying any mind to what was happening at his feet, "You want to win? Don't disobey." Quickly I nodded my head, cold sweats beginning to pour off my trembling body. Diego began to walk away, but my feet remained planted in the ground as I stared at the body that was no longer moving, no longer breathing.

"Dije moverme (I said move)," the guard angrily sneered, shoving me forward again for good measure. My feet moved quickly beneath me, catching up with Diego as he rounded the corner of the hallway. "That is how the organization survives, and that's why the boss is here tonight," Diego continued, approaching a thick wooden door at the very end of the corridor. My eyes flitted around, trying to soak up everything I saw in the areas they were taking me through, the further we walked the more uneasy I became. "El Sin Nombre's down here?" I mumbled, almost scared to even ask a simple question. As Diego reached the door, he glanced over at me, "No," he replied, his voice flat, "Sin Nombre's personal sicaria is." 

There was no going back, hopefully my choice to do this wouldn't have severe consequences. Holding my breath, waiting to see what was in store for me, only one phrase ran through my mind: Now or never. 

A/n: had to split this chapter into two or else it would've been too long. next one is already posted. love u guys.