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I was invited to a beheading today... - I

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That damn neon sign. He always hated it, but his eyes couldn't pull away. He hesitated, lingering outside the club like a man about to dive into icy depths. He hoped she wouldn't be there tonight, but the music said otherwise. It was her song.

It was impossible not to look at her; the best he could do was not to stare and hope she wouldn't notice him. But stare he did. It was inevitable. And with every second, his frustration grew. He wanted to put every man in that room into the ground for drinking her in with their eyes while she stripped for them. Maybe that's why she told him to never see her again. He could only guess.

The boss was waiting.

Lex stepped into the office. Gabriel Reyes sat behind the desk, next to a guy running a cash machine. Two others stood up the moment Lex walked in. One of them was unfamiliar and uglier than the rest. Something wasn't right. This didn't feel like a usual meeting with el jefe.

"Always punctual, Blanco." Reyes gestured toward the chair beside him. Lex took a couple of steps forward—then felt cold metal slam into the back of his skull. He dropped to his knees. One of Gabriel's men had pistol-whipped him the second he was out of Lex's line of sight.

"What the fuck?" Lex growled, his vision blurring out. He knew it was game over. Gabriel had finally caught on to his fuckery. His answer came in the form of a kick to the liver, followed by a punch to the cheek that knocked him flat on the floor. Then they went onto stomping the living shit out of him...

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- 𝐈𝐈