Siren of Julio Santayana: A Dark Revenge Romance ENGLISH

Chapter 9

If you only accept who accepts you and ignores those who can't, then what difference would that make of you? We need to get a fair share of both to make a difference. But if that's how it works to Niccolo, what else can she do? It's not like she's ought to make a substantial difference. She only works to pay a debt. To breathe. But not really living. 

Siren never thought something like that was going on in the head of that man, named Niccolo. She doesn’t regret what he did to her, but it doesn’t mean she forgives her from what he did to her. She’s glad that the circumstance makes a bigger difference in his life, and it’s time to move on from it. 

The following day, she was searching around her small room, looking for the man’s wallet. She knew she placed it under the mattress to keep it from Franco. But the cheap foam is now leaning by the wall. She’s rummaged through all the small drawers and cabinets that could fit inside her small room. All the laundry is in the basket near the ladder. She searched everywhere, but she couldn't find the damn wallet!

“What are you doing?” Franco was on the ladder, a frowned on his face. Siren didn’t know he’s home, but the expression on his face tells so much how Siren’s noises from upstairs disturbed him from his sleep. 

“Where’s the wallet?” she barked at him. She searched everywhere and if it’s nowhere to be found, Franco must have had it. 

The frown on his face deepened. He thought about lying, but he only had two hours of sleep. Shaking his head, he pulled out the wallet from his back pocket. Siren gasped and abruptly snatched it from his outstretched hand. 

“You were here in my room?” she exclaimed. 

Franco pointed overhead and to the ceiling foam, Siren hadn’t realized until now. “I fixed that yesterday. I… searched for some money, too, but — I didn't know you've been keeping that much money under your bed."

"This is not mine," she answered and checked the wallet.

Franco chuckled and raked his fingers through his hair. "That's why you steal. You don't own what they have."

She frowned at him and didn't comment on his ridiculous philosophy because he's partly true. Why would she steal if she has them? But for Siren, she steals from the rich because she knows they have too much. She's only helping them spend a little of their fortunes.

"This is—"

"I get some," Franco interrupted as Siren noticed some cards were missing. And also the few paper bills.

"Some? You get all the credit cards!" He left the VIP cards to the clubs and the gold card that obviously won't generate money unless he sold it to a pawnshop. "Where did you take them?"

"I have a friend who's good with that kind of card. I'll inform you if he succeeds in draining the cards with money." Of course, what kind of friendship will he gain?

But it's not hers. She hid it from him because she's aware of how this wallet differs from the rest. There were ten thousand in cash in the wallet. Isn't that enough? Besides, how much did these ceiling foams cost him?

She could only glare at him as he waved and stepped down. She has no plan to give the money back to the man, but she doesn't plan to spend it either.

On her duty that night, she worked in the Playhouse. Miss Katty and Kendra gave her a go signal that it's safe to go back now. It’s been an entire week since Pablo Carte’s men’s last visit, so they call it safe for Siren to be back.

With that is the sad news about Eileen. She was missing for weeks, and only last night, she was found dead in an abandoned rice field seventy-four kilometers away from a rest house her regular customers had brought her in. The customer is innocent, and in distress right now by what happened. Fear of his name being dragged by the issue. 

“It’s gang rape,” Marinel said in a solemn voice. Everyone tried to work in peace and act as if everything was normal. But everyone was scared. Scared that a prostitute like Eileen suffered an inhumane death. What worst was that a public official did it to her. According to the news circulating around, it was Mayor Sanzes and his men.

All the girls that work in the Playhouse are indeed beautiful and captivating bodies to lure the men. The attitude is a problem, but it won’t hinder a beauty to stay in the Playhouse. Mayor Sanzes was Eileen’s VIP customer, and he brought her to his rest house once. They have to lie low because of the public. 

When the mayor heard Eileen came to a rest house with her other customer, the Mayor was jealous. Especially that it was Mayor Sanzes birthday, and he thought the woman was mocking him. 

His men kidnapped Eileen and gave her as a ‘gift’ to the Mayor. When he’s done with her, Mayor Sanzes handed the weak Eileen to his men, letting them do what they want to her. It was said that Eileen's arms were tied behind her, her mouth covered by a handkerchief, and her skirt missing. They put her inside the van. They stopped on their way in the middle of the road, seventy-four kilometers from the abandoned field where her corpse was found. Mayor Sanzes' men took turns to Eileen behind the car. 

It was narrated with incomplete details by one of Mr. Sanzes’ men, Centeno, who only watched, and declined his other friends' offer to take his turn. But his statement is futile now that he was found dead on the side of the road. Inside the sack of rice. Tied with a rope. Bloodied and bruised. With his mouth covered by his own underwear. The police claimed his pockets were full of illegal drugs. 

The girls were silently talking about it in the dressing room in the Playhouse. No one’s sure if Eileen will find justice. Her family will not seek it because she’s only living with her uncle and aunts, who, just like Franco, will not see her as a family once she stops being of value to them. And what kind of value will a dead body can give to the family that is left behind but money? 

They only care for the money Eileen gets in prostitution, so they’ll only care for the compensation of her death. Their agreement happened under the table, so the rest is a rumor and a secret people could only guess about. 

Siren didn’t share her sentiments to the groups about Eileen’s demise. Inside, Niccolo’s words rang in her head. 

How cruel. And pitiful. Even if Eileen tried to put up a fight, it’s not like she holds power over those men’s cruelty and strength. 

She left the mourning group and headed to the backdoor. A glass of cold water in her hand. The van is still on its way to take them back to Muntinlupa. Miss Katty called. It would take some more minutes before they reached the Playhouse. 

Eileen was two to three years older than Siren, but she’s a newbie. She probably does not expect her confidence in the world of prostitution will lead her to that horrible death. She’ll enjoy the company of men altogether in one night. Willingly. And the mayor will surely pay her double. 

But they kill them, so everyone can assume she was forced to do it. How cruel. Eileen enjoys life in prostitution because she wants everyone’s attention. One of the many things denied to her. She offered them entertainment, and she gets their attention in return while earning money to feed herself and her uncle and aunt. She would have willingly granted them what they want from her. It doesn’t have to go as far as abusing her and killing her. She’ll be willing. She will want it. She won’t regret it. 

But Siren could only imagine her fear of being alone with those men. Did the realization hit her the way Niccolo hit it? 

According to Centeno’s statement, Eileen pleaded for her life, kneeling on the ground behind the van to keep her alive. But their leader, named Luis, shoved something in her mouth to silence her and pulled the trigger of his baby armalite on her head. 

Despite what happened. Despite how those men tortured her and her being, she still wanted to live. She literally pleaded for her life. The life everyone thinks is useless. Siren knows how it feels to be judged because of her line of work. And she’s not even a prostitute yet. Perhaps, after her twenty-one birthday, she’ll try. But she’s heard so many degrading words that she questioned her purpose for living. 

But Eileen pleaded for her life like it’s the only treasure that she had. But they ripped her off of her right to live. 

Her fingers grasped around the glass in her hand. She felt shallow. She’s mad, and while in the dark, she let it show to her face. Her body visibly trembled in anger. 

The former governor’s son came to her for forgiveness. It was unexpected and surprising to thank someone who changed your life dreadfully. Siren thought that maybe the world is changing. That it feels sorry, so it showed her it doesn’t mean all the bad things happening. All the misfortunate. But she realized now it’s only balancing everything. Making sure she had everything under her full control. 

And here’s this horrible incident with a town’s mayor. This sickening death of her co-worker is a reminder to Siren of how balance, yet fair this life is. 

She glared at the broken glass on the opposite wall. The sound of it hitting the wall shattered the silence around her. But she didn’t flinch. She didn’t care that debris nearly hit her face. She aggressively tucked her hair behind her ear as the wind blew. 

Eileen died as if her struggle to live this kind of life is all for nothing. She fought for her low life, only to be nothing in the end. Only to be a sacrifice to remind the people to take care of themselves because this world can never be bitter to them. It’s like a slap to Siren. That no matter how much she fights for her life, she’s nothing if she’s nothing. 

She was about to turn around when a strong hand pushed her from behind. She stumbled forward and held on against the wall. The broken glasses squeak against the pressure of her heels over them. 

The force was intense, but Angie can’t be that stronger if it weren’t for the anger radiating from her expression. Her eyes were full of tears. She looked horrible now with the ruined make-ups. Her liquid eyeliners made a trail of black under her eyes. Marinel and the other girls tried to stop her, but shrugged their hands off her and pointed a shaky finger to Siren. 

“It’s your fault! It’s because of you! She left with her regular because she was mad at you. You make her question her hard work. You belittle her! She came with him to prove her worth. She knew Mayor Sanzes won’t allow her to come with other customers but him ―but she left because she was so mad at you!”

“I don’t know what it has to do with me,” she replied in a crisp voice. “It was her choice to come with the customer. I don’t know who that Mayo Sanzes is. I wasn’t there when they took Eileen and killed her. I wasn’t informed they left her alone in abandonment for two days.” 

Everyone has their fair share of tears, mourning for Eileen. But Siren’s profile looks the same. Unbothered and cold. The reason why the girls think badly of her for not showing one bit of sympathy. 

“You…!” Angie exclaimed, and instead of thinking of a smart reply to get a reaction from her, she decided it’s best to attack her. Her hands came out flying and grabbed a fistful of Siren’s hair, who only hissed in surprise. 

Pushing Angie off her is futile, especially that her fingers were glued on her hair. The girls who helped aren’t really helping. They wrapped the arms around Angie’s waist to pull her away from Siren, but they’re only helping her inflict pain on her scalp. 

Siren was closed to kissing the ground as Angie pulled her head lower. It’s probably their anger, too, or their sadness in Eileen’s loss that triggers the other girls to join Angie. Their hand reached out to Siren, pinching, grabbing, punching. Or perhaps it was their old, suppressed hatred to her that makes them look so strong and tough. Brave enough to help each other until Siren’t kneeling on the ground. The raging girl’s scream muffled her own scream. 

They shouted profanities to her. They kept pulling on her hair, their long nails biting on her skin. Until their curses came too far from the issue. It’s no longer about Eileen’s death anymore. It’s their personal anger towards Siren. 

Siren doesn’t know when they’ll stop. Or if they planned to turn her bald. She gasped as one of them kicked her thigh with her pointed heels. She gritted her teeth, trying to see who it was, but her vision was blurred and they were pushing her farther down. There’s no one around to stop them since everyone joined Angie. Including Marinel and Esphie. 

It was only when they heard the shrilling sound of the van beeping from the distance that they all stopped. Siren continued to grit her teeth, refusing to lift her eyes to any of them as they retreated. They ran inside before Siren could remember their faces. Of course, all the girls were involved, but it’s different once Miss Katty found out what happened and fired everyone involved but Siren. At least some of them can lie and pretend they weren’t part of it. 

The door was slammed shut after the last girl. Siren rolled her eyes to the ground and blew carbon dioxide. When she was sure she was alone, she hissed and slammed her palm on the ground, screaming to the dark with a throaty cry, but not a single tear in her eyes. 

She took deep breaths, but it took her a few minutes before she completely calmed herself. She helped herself off the ground, patting the dirt off her. She tried to straighten her disheveled hair, but the locks were too wild and her scalp was burning from the throbbing pain. Plus the sting on her arms screaming in agony. She rolled once more to the dark and was ready to go inside when someone appeared from the corner. 

Siren wasn’t startled, but she glared at the man. She had to roll her eyes at him as well when he recognized his rough profile, and the scar on his jaw. The black hood is gone. He’s with a blue fitted v-neck, ripped pants, and brown boots. 

She held her chin higher and turned around. 

“You look braver and smarter than them,” he started behind her. “You bravely assaulted a man like Don Cartel. Even without research, you’ll see how dangerous he is with the men circling him.”

“They harassed me,” she replied through her gritted teeth and narrowed her eyes to the closed door. 

He had been watching. She’s not sure how long he’s been hiding in the dark, but she couldn't believe how this man’s gut watched the group of girls attack one girl alone. It doesn’t matter if it’s her. She doesn’t need anyone’s help with petty things like that. It was a work of envy and hatred, and she truly understands. 

But she doubted he’d jump to help, even if it was another person. 

“But you weren’t badly beaten as you are now.”

“Because you watched it all happen.” Her hands clenched on her sides. She could hear the constant beep of the van. They’re all waiting for her.

She felt him inched closer and heard his faint footsteps as well. “Oh? But you’re not screaming for help. I think you don't need a knight in shining armor?”

She rolled her eyes once more and clasped the door handle. 

“You can fight them. But you won’t,” was the last thing she allowed to hear from him before tugging the door opened. She made sure to push the door shut with a force that the walls vibrated against the impact.