Page 147 of Embriagado

I pulled out my phone and was about to text Ariyan when someone called my name, and I looked up from the screen. Before me stood a man with a mustache and a stuck-up smile, who seemed way too happy to see me.

“Do I know you?” I asked while studying him with narrowed eyes.

“No… but I know you,” he said, walking toward me with an outstretched hand. “The name is Sinclair.”

Not about to shake his hand, I kept glaring at him.

Getting the message, Sindouchebag withdrew his hand, brushing it over his tie as he did.

“I’m the bookkeeper of this establishment.”

Still not giving a fuck, I continued to stare at him.

“It’s been a pleasure watching you fight tonight, and the same goes for all your previous fights. I must say, you’re quite the talented fighter, El Embriagado.”

The dude’s ugly mustache wiggled whenever he opened his mouth to speak, and it bugged the fuck out of me. Actually, it reminded me of a caterpillar.

“And speaking of good fights, you must want to collect your money for tonight’s win.” He flashed me a big smile. “If you follow me to my office, the money is there.”

Ha. Ain’t no fucking way.

“I’ll get the money another time,” I said and started walking when he spoke.

“Are you sure? Ariyan told me himself that you’re trustworthy and that I could count on you to deliver him back his share of the money.”

The mention of Ariyan’s name made me stop, and I huffed.

“You’re lying.”

“Pardon?”

I turned to glance at him. “Ain’t no fucking way that bastard said a good word about me.”

His brows pulled together, but a moment later, he finally dropped the act as an ugly grin took over his lips.

“You caught me.”

Sinclair glanced at the girl sitting at the front desk. Getting the memo, she got up and left for the back room, leaving us alone.

“The truth is—” He stepped closer. “—my employer has got his eyes set on you.”

“Not interested,” I said without batting an eye.

“Are you sure? You haven’t even heard what he has to offer.”

“Yeah…” I scratched my jaw. “Can’t care less about your boss.”

“Aren’t you at least curious to know who he is?”

“Nah.”

“Either way, I’m sure you’ve heard of him before.”

“Probably not.”

“The name is Dion Bianchi.”

I yawned while picking wax out of my ear with my pinkie. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”