IDRIS

Idris burns a cigarette into a captive's skin, one that has been tied up to the shackles on the cold concrete wall. The captive winces. He struggles against his confines, trying to escape the prickly pain. This is not the first of the torture he's been put through. Wounds from a physical assault, superficial burns, and, of course, the standardized lacerations.

Idris chuckles to himself. Another lackey belonging to the Toulour family. It's just what he needs after the news of Ramsey's arrest. He grabs a knife off his tray of utensils and begins cutting into his abdomen, slowing his pace so it stings far worse. The blood soaks his fingers in the midst. But he enjoys it. He enjoys the sensation.

Idris's phone begins ringing, but with his hands full, a guard of his answers the call and places it between his ears and shoulders.

"Yes?" He forces the prisoner's mouth open to the point of almost breaking his jaw, then begins stuffing in as many razor blades as he can.

"Everything's done, sir."

Idris smiles. More good news. "You shot the shipments down?" He spreads some construction adhesive over the captive's lips and shoves his mouth shut.

"We got the greenlight from Croff. It's all been destroyed."

There's no greater joy than this. The fact that the Toulours are taking a couple hits of their own is satisfying. It's pleasing. He alone should not be made to bear some losses. By all means, the Toulours must join him. Misery does indeed love company.

"Great work." Idris ends the call. He takes a couple steps back to admire his work in its entirety. The captive should be drawing his last breath any time soon, but for the meantime he should suffer under all that torture. Quite unfortunate that he's meeting his end. If he weren't under the Toulours, he would be a free man.

Idris cleans his hands free of the blood and makes his way out the cellar, leaving to his men the deceased captive to dispose of. The courtyard is where he heads, and when he arrives he takes a seat by a bench and pulls from within his apparently endless stash a new cigar. The sky is clear. Not a single cloud. The Toulours should be as scarce as these clouds.

Josi joins him a couple minutes later on that bench. She seems to be in a good mood. In fact, she's been in a brighter mood lately. Idris has no clue why. Probably some good news from her family. She pulls the cigar away and gives him a kiss, but doesn't return it. She squashes it out.

"Are you having fun?" Josi asks while in the midst of cleaning some specks of blood on his cheek.

Idris studies his now blood-free hands. He is having fun. The sound of his enemies' screams should be transformed into a classic tune. It's music to his ears. It's enough serotonin. Soon, he'll have the Toulour family's head on a clean, silver platter. And then he'll truly be satisfied, because true victory only comes when they're beneath the soles of his feet.

Idris fishes out another cigar. "The screams never get old."

But before he can light the stick, Josi pulls it away. "We need to discuss your smoking habits."

Idris sighs. "Here we go again."

"No more cigarettes or cigars until you learn how to control yourself. Do we have an understanding?"

Idris just stares at her, like a child being scolded by his mother, until he sighs and looks away. This is not a fight he'll be winning. He nods subtly, still enough to clue Josi in on his agreement.

"Great," Josi smiles. "I want you to take me out."

Something Idris was already planning. With this much good news, shouldn't he share it with his girlfriend? He certainly should.

~《¤》~

JOSI

"Remember when we first met?"

Josi sighs. "Are you mocking me?"

Idris simply chuckles. They're in a club, but in a private space allocated just for them. It's a room on the second floor. More V.I.P than the V.I.P section itself. Red leather couches, neon lights, chandeliers. And of course, alcohol. The thumping can be heard from below, though it is faint. Privacy to the best degree.

Now Idris asks Josi questions that should be left in the past. How could she ever forget the first day they met when it was that very day that sealed her destiny? That very day that thrusted her into the grasp of the man that would eventually rob her of her freedom. It's been over a year now since then, and though nothing can be done, Josi still can't help wondering how life would be if she'd never gone clubbing that night.

"Remember our first date?"

"How could I not?" Josi asks. "You paid to have the owner empty the restaurant."

"I got him to clear the restaurant, alright, but I didn't pay."

Josi pauses. "What?"

"Nothing." Idris brushes the matter to the side and instead, tucks a strand of Josi's hair behind her ears. She's made herself comfortable on his lap with an arm around his shoulder.

Josi runs her thumb across his lips, taking sudden interest in the scar on his chin. She studies the rest of his face and finds him doing the same. He gives her a look too transparent. Endearment. Fondness. Even with how dire things are, she should at least be thankful that he has so much affection for her. Otherwise, she would still be stuck entertaining his twisted games. Though Bradley would still be in her life.

"What?" Idris asks, a bit bemused by Josi's staring.

She smiles. "You have a nice face."

Josi can tell the compliment did its job. Idris goes silent, perhaps swimming in the feelings he has for her. This is the way it should be. The bewitcher and the bewitched.

The sound of Josi's phone ringing expels the mood. What's even more surprising is the caller. Dami. This is a first. "I'll be right back. Josi excuses herself.

The bathroom is where Josi chooses to answer the call. Their first ever since they formed the partnership. It's only due to the safety of the cell phone that she even sends the assassin text messages. If it were the same bugged phone Idris had stuck her with months ago, she would have resorted to using emails to communicate. Or even telegraphs. Anything it took. With all the restrictions Idris has placed upon Josi, at least he trusts her with a normal cell phone.

"I'll be leaving the city for some time." Dami says as soon as Josi answers. "Not sure when I'll be back."

"Another client?"

"Yes. Shouldn't take too long. In the meantime, you can warm up to Rand." She pauses. Then, "How is he?"

"He reacted like I figured. He's a bit on guard, but I'll get him to drop it."

"Great. And remember, make sure to send him down to the butcher shop when you're all done."

Josi is puzzled. "The butcher shop?"

"Me." Dami tells her, and although she's nowhere in sight, Josi knows she's smiling. Best not to question, though. Whatever lies between Dami and the Verdonni family stays between Dami and the Verdonni family.

Josi heads straight for Idris after the call, for her absence has lasted suspiciously too long. Not that Idris would conclude the worst, but he would grow impatient. She heads back to the private room only to find Six in some conversation with Idris. It seems serious, but then again everything about the mafia is serious. If not murder then kidnapping. If not kidnapping then some war with a rival family.

Josi indulges herself with a glass of Mojito and simply witnesses their exchange. They may or may not be aware of her presence in the room, because no signs of acknowledgement were thrown her way when she entered. Not even a look. She has no clue what they're discussing. Could be some territorial discourse. Or money.

The door opens once again and in comes a server with a tray of more drinks. Probably Idris's, seeing as there's whiskey. He sets it down on the table and gives Josi the usual professional smile which she returns. Meanwhile in the background, Six shakes his head at something he said, exhales, and finally exits.

Idris doesn't move from his post. He just stands there, and Josi can swear his demeanor has completely changed. He doesn't seem too happy. Or rather than happy, he looks agitated. Disconcerted. And his eyes have grown dark. Only when he turns to her does it all finally click. Josi knows that look. He's not in his right senses-

Idris pulls out his gun, and without even so much as a second thought, aims at the server and fires.

~《¤》~

IDRIS

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

Idris exits the elevator first and makes it into the penthouse for the kitchen. He needs a drink. There's bourbon in the cabinet. It's not whiskey, but it'll suffice. He fills a glass up to the brim and begins chugging it down, all while Josi hounds him in the background.

"That man did absolutely nothing wrong, Idris!" Josi protests. "Why can't you ever just think about your actions!"

Idris clenches his teeth. Of course she has no idea what predicament he's just been landed in. He just lost a substantial partner, the DiSimone family, who aided him with arms supplies. The news Six brought him confirmed their betrayal. They ended things with him and partnered up with none other than the Toulours. The damned Toulours. Always in his way with some new conflict. They must be laughing at him. Mocking him.

Idris has been left in the dust once again. One step forward, ten steps backwards. So he shot the server out of anger, which he thought was hasty even on his account. But with Josi this worked up, he's past feeling any sense of liability. He throws out curses in Spanish, as his anger has leveled off.

"You're acting like I shot your fucking dad."

Josi is beyond revolted. "Are you serious? You're bringing up my dad?"

"Yes, I'm going to bring up your dad if I want to, Josita!" Idris shoots back. "And why are you so worked up? Don't tell me you were planning on sleeping with him." He doesn't mean it. It's his anger that makes him say all these things. But he'll be damned if he allows Josi the last word.

"I can't believe this," Says Josi, more to herself than to Idris. "You really have some issues to work out."

The glare Idris gives her is lethal. "Watch your mouth."

"Or what, you'll lock me up in the house again?"

"As a matter of fact," He takes a couple steps towards her. "I will."

The silence is tense. Tense enough to thicken the air. Josi is first to cut through that cloud of tension. "I'm going to bed." She heads for the bedroom, only to emerge minutes later with a suitcase.

Idris frustratingly sighs. "Where the hell are you going?"

"The guest room." Josi answers. "Have fun hugging the pillows." She disappears around the corner.

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