Ignacio was surprised when Alfredo had paid him a visit midday at club Savannah. Not much occurred during the day, except cleaning and setting up new stock. Everything happened during owl hours. Of course there were customers here and there, one's that had miserable lives and wasted every cent on a bit of alcohol. The usual customers who sat at the bar 24/7 until they had to be kicked out. Everyone had a sob story of some sort, Ignacio never asked. He did not care enough as long as they were buying and promoting club Savannah, it was none of his business how they got home or such and such. A cigarette behind his ear, flipping the dishtowel over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed to the man walking towards him with two bulky men behind him dressed in all formal black. They said seemed serious as serious as one's capable of throwing him off a building. Ignacio was part of the English mafia, he knew enough but not enough about the Mexican mafia. Reaching behind his black blue jeans making sure to feel his his gun in place. Alfredo's body guards had already noted his hand gesture, giving him a stern nod. A warning, that they had seen his move and would be willing to play along.

Ignacio shifted uncomfortably behind the bar, biting on his lip; he removed the match stick from his mouth. Throwing it onto the floor. He decided to put both hands on top of the marble bar counter. His shoulder length hair almost distracting his vision, even then he would not be getting a haircut.

"Anything I can get you?" He greeted, nervously putting the dish towel on his other shoulder. He felt intimidated. Alfredo looked around, with a shrug he gave Ignacio a bored expression. "Nada..."

With a chuckle, Ignacio feeling confident; he added. "I'm afraid, I don't speak any Spanish. Will that be vodka?"

Suddenly the man on the left, reached over the counter, keeping a tight grip on Ignacio's black v-neck. "If Alpha speaks Spanish you speak Spanish. I do not care if you have to jumble up words but you will—"

"Julio, not here!" Alfredo said clearing his throat. They were already raising heads around and attention was something Alfredo did not like at all.

"Ahah si si bueno...amigos ahaha..." Ignacio let out quickly a nervous laugh escaping his dry throat. His diluted British accent coming into play. "Amigos!"

"Be quiet..!" Alfredo snarled at his attempt to impress them. "If you tell me what I need to hear then perhaps we will be acquaintances. Friends? Amigos? never! I do not do friends."

"Of course, of course! I perfectly understand..." Ignacio added suddenly craving for an a pinch of heroin. Regardless of having had more than enough earlier that morning. His fear drained out all the ecstasy of the drug. Not even alcohol could give him that very same high. His life was spiraling out of control, he could not have the Mexican Don eyeing him as an enemy.

"The girl..." Before Alfredo could even finish his sentence. Ignacio piped up.

"MILA MILA, her name is MILA. I-i am not quite sure of her last name but her name is Mila. She lives in a dingy flat downtown Brooklyn or wait uh uh an apartment as the westerners call it." Nervously scratching his head. "I've only been in the US for a little while still getting used to the wording used here."

Alfredo was more amused than upset. Who was this clown? Was his uncle Garreth aware of who was managing his property? It was surreal to him. Alfredo would never employ anyone as scrawny looking as this man resembled. Regardless the Mexican mafia had an initiation for new members, Ignacio would never survive. Only the fittest made it, some ended up dead amidst of trying to prove themselves worthy of being apart of the Molinero clan.

The two men beside Alfredo, stared at each other then shook their head. Temper to let out laughter. They couldn't, respecting their Alpha far too much. Abruptly Ignacio grabbed a napkin, scribbling down— "...that is her address..."

With his hands in his pockets, Alfredo gave Julio a firm nod. Julio then stepped forward and roughly grabbed the napkin from Ignacio's hand.

"She is always here every Friday and weekends atmost... if not she is probably out being a whore or whatever she gets up to. I'm not aware of her personal life, she is very private. We only hang out nothing more. We're friends for a good time..."

"Have you...?"

"No no no, never never. I'd never shag Mila, we're friends nothing more."

"I see..."

"I swear on my life."

"Well do not swear on your life, we take it seriously where I'm from. Before you know it, you won't have a life to swear on because... you will be six ft under or lying in a ditch... amigo!" Alfredo mocked, his voice stern, jaw clenched; eyes boring holes into Ignacio's scrawny frame. It was notable that Ignacio was an addict, his demeanor had had all the resemblances. It was none of Alfredo's business, he had gotten what he wanted and fortunately it came easy very easy. Something about her excited him, it had been so long since he had been excited about anything really. Everything had been monotonous, his life was monotonous. Constant travel, constant meetings, constant shipments arrangements, constant constant same old. Avoiding Lola's calls had been easy. She had been relentless with her begging for attention. She'd stop for a while then start again the very next day. It was not that she lacked respect for herself but rather that she loved Alfredo to no end. They shared moments together, unforgettable in her eyes at-least. Alfredo was always cold but at times, in her arms he confessed all that bothered him.

He was meant to look for a wife. That was his reason for this visit. Alfredo felt himself getting carried away with agendas that were not on his program. Instead of chasing Adela McCarthy, his eyes were stuck on Adela's mysterious friend. He thought she was mysterious, she never revealed much to herself and she had no knowledge of whom he was. She claimed Mexican heritage but did not know the Don of the Molinero clan? That was something he found odd. How could she not know him? Did she not use the internet? His family noted to be one of the richest alliances in Mexico with the mafia business hidden never disclosed but people knew. People talked. It was public knowledge. He never shied away from his family name. As much as it had been beneficial, he loathed it. Blood money, his family fortune was built over blood money.

That night, he knocked on her door with a box of pizza in blue jeans and a T-shirt. Even then she thought he looked ridiculous. Mila had been cuddling Simba when there was an abrupt knock. She had not been expecting anyone, it caught her off guard seeing him standing there with a bottle of negroni and a box of pizza.

"We meet again." He smirked.

"That is because you're at my door uninvited." She replied somberly. In her mind, she questioned why someone of his stature; he looked like a big deal. It honestly came as a surprise to her why he kept bothering with her. Even though this was the most casual she had ever seen him dressed, he still filtered authority and a dangerous aura. Perhaps it was in the manner he carried himself, the way he articulated his words. The way he walked as if owned the world and much more. He knew he was important, he flaunted it with every step and every muttering of words. His stubble made him seem dominant, the smirk on his lips annoyed her. She did not like it. Something about he seemed awfully familiar. She did not like anything about this man.

"Won't you invite me in? Is your boyfriend around?" Alfredo mocked. "I do not mind him joining our threesome."

Rolling her eyes, Mila heaved a sigh. "I do not know who you're. I've even forgotten your name, please leave. Stop bothering me. Do not tempt me to file a restraining order..."

"Alfredo... that's my name, hermosa."

"I did not ask, I do not want to know either. Please—"

"Why are you so reluctant on getting to know me. I came with peace offerings. I thought pizza was everyone's thing."

Feeling a tad bit guilty, Mila sighed then opened the door wide enough for him to enter. When he did, he looked around the tiny studio apartment. A little uncomfortable he was sure back in Mexico this was his whole closet. Just how small were New York apartments?

"Your elevator does not work...!" Alfredo said setting the pizza down on her kitchen counter. It surprised him just how close her kitchen was to her bedroom. What kind of living was this? Never in his life had he ever seen such a poorly planned living situation. Mila crosses her arms, watching him judge everything around him. He did not have to say a word but his face said it all.

"Did you expect it to?" She replied, grabbing the pizza box and going back to her bed. Leaving him standing there. In her comfortable nightie, Alfredo felt himself not breath just at the mere thought of what lies under that silk cloth.

"You do pay rent, it ought to be working?"

"Tell that to my landlord." Mila shrugged changing the channel.

"I will." He said under his breath. Mila has meant to be sarcastic, she did not expect him to actually speak to the landlord.

"Well stop awkwardly standing there, remove your shoes and come sit your ass here. You came to disturb my peace so the least you can do is be quiet while I continue with my novella."

"Which novella?" Alfredo asked removing his shoes. Within seconds, he was removing his jeans as well.

Mila stared at him in disbelief.

"I'm only getting comfortable, hermosa. Is that not allowed?" Something about his nickname for her made her feel weird, she did not like it. Mila liked to be in control of her emotions.

"Leave your boxers on thank you."

"As you wish." He chuckled.

"Do you do this often? Bring pizza into stranger's homes and lie on their bed watching telenovelas?"

"Maybe..."

Mila nodded. Laying back on the continental pillows beside her. Instead of watching the telenovela, Alfredo watched her instead. Watched her eagerly eating her pizza, the box on her lap like an excited kid. The way she became surprised when something obvious happened. Bare face, no make up... she had this innocent aura. Her cheeks rosy, she wasn't so badass after all. Her skin looked so smooth.

"Do you want?" Mila offered him the box.

"No, help yourself."

"Are you sure? You did after all buy it."

"For you, hermosa."

"Oh... okay." She awkwardly turned away.

"You can have the alcohol, I have work tomorrow."

Suddenly his phone started to ring before he could decline, Mila saw the image upfront. "She is pretty, is that your girlfriend?"

"No." He said dismissively.

"Oh... someone's not in the mood." Annoyed, Mila groaned loudly. "You scared Simba away, now he is hiding again. He doesn't like strangers."

"Simba?" Alfredo questioned.

"Yes? My cat."

"Oh... I don't like cats."

"Good, it means next time you won't come here."

"Next time we're going out."

"What? No. What who gave you that idea?"

"...so you can show me around New York." any excuse to get her to say yes.

"I'm sure you have enough money to hire a personal tour guide besides I have work. I can not be seen going out and about with you."

Alfredo chuckled. "Why?"

"I don't know." Mila shrugged, closing the box. Mila set it down in her bed side before turning back to Alfredo who seemed relaxed on her bed. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing." He replied.

"I'd be a fool to believe that."

"You must be a human trafficker luring me in." She added.

Alfredo only laughed. "I want you to come here..." he gestured towards the empty space between them. Mila was hesitant but nonetheless went to lay in his arms. Sleeping on his chest, it was comfy. She was exhausted, it had been a long day. A long time since a man had held her this way. She fell asleep. Alfredo watched her closely. He tried to figure out what drew him closer and closer to her. What was so special about her? He could not figure it out but in that moment in that small spaced apartment that felt as suffocating as four concrete walls. He liked this, he liked it a lot more than he'd have loved to admit. It scared him a bit. He did not want to like it or take this any farther than he was already. Scolding himself in his head, he needed to think straight. This was not his life, this was far from his life. He did not want to put the poor girl in any danger either. She was oblivious to it all.

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