Siren of Julio Santayana: A Dark Revenge Romance ENGLISH

Chapter 4

That’s the amount of money inside the bag! Siren failed to help Miss Katty as she fell on the cold, rough floor beside her after seeing the money. Miss Katty has savings in her bank account higher than this, but never in her life did she see this amount in an alley. 

Siren dreamed of finding millions on the street when she was little. Which, undoubtedly, everyone’s desire, too. There goes the famous question line: what would you do if you happen to see a million pesos on the street? 

The young Siren thought of buying many foods to satisfy her hunger. She would bring her mother, Jocelle, to the nearby and expensive restaurant where they only used to get spare foods to fill their empty stomachs and get on every day. She wanted to experience how it felt to be a customer there, having all the clean workers in white uniform catered with their needs and even a glass of water would be served to them in a tray and a genuine smile. 

She would then buy the lofty towers where the rich people live. When she was young, she thought you have to buy the entire building to live in one unit. The money could make wonders to their life. Maybe she could also buy her own school so she didn’t have to come to school with those bullies. 

Years had passed before that dream of Siren happened. When she’s no longer the poor, homeless, and starving girl with overhigh, desperate dreams. If she were to ask what to do with the money, she believed that question was for Franco. 

She doesn’t want the money. She works to keep herself busy.

“We should wait for weeks,” Kendra said once they’re back in his office. There are three of them in the room and the two bouncers by the door. One is Sito, her personal bouncer, while she’s at the Playhouse. 

Siren was sitting on the chair in front of Kendra’s desk. Across from her was Miss Katty, who was watching her intently. They were planning to divide the money into three. But she knew Siren wouldn't accept her part. It’d be useless once it gets to Franco’s palms. They could make an agreement not to tell it to him, but before that, they have to make sure the money is safe. 

The money must be from Don Pablo Cartel. 

Siren learned the man who caused trouble earlier was a well-known leader in a black market. That was the first time they visited the Playhouse, but not new to the area. Siren unknowingly caught his interest after asking around who among the girls was in demand. 

Of course, it’s Siren, but unfortunately, they didn’t listen to the rules in the house and caused trouble. Kendra can't blame them. The group is aware of what and who they are. Don Cartel's reputation is enough to scare anyone who knows him. That explained why the bouncers failed to move into action. 

Siren was fifteen when she first heard about the black market. Massive explosions destroyed a high-end hotel in the middle of the city, which was rumored to be part of the underground industry. News articles and reports rampant, affecting the lives of the homeless on the street as the nights after the explosions followed by a series of gunshots within the entire week. Chasing cars and more similar incidents. There were many participants. From the group of mobs and street gangsters to the professional assassins. But the authorities captured only a few of them. Mostly street gangsters. 

They were all bad people; that was the only thing clear to Eli. It was their money and power that blinded them from seeing the life of the people as inferior to them. Eli and Jocelle were lucky they weren’t one among the innocent people who got mistakenly killed. Either by a knife directed to their chest or by stray bullets. For them, the lives of the homeless are nothing. They are all after the vengeance. 

The girl who told Don Cartel about Siren got kicked out of her job. Miss Katty said she could have pointed to another girl who’s willing and not off-limits. They believed it’s a work of envy, which led her to be unemployed. 

Siren felt bad, but it’s not the first time someone lost their job because of her. She learned a long time ago that this world is a game of survival. Your weak heart will be your downfall. The first priority must always be yourself. Especially to an orphan like her, with only Franco who never sees her as family. 

The entire month passed by like nothing happened. No same incident happened either. They believed the money was for the compensation; to keep the house silent. Siren told her bosses about the man’s wish. However, she’s still working. She was certain with the man’s sincerity with his words but her bosses were not taking it so she shrugged the man’s threat. It’s been a month anyway, and not even a shadow of danger is lurking around the Playhouse. 

If only they knew the danger was for Sien, and not for the club. 

They had divided the money too. Siren doesn’t want to accept it. So Miss Katty opened a savings account under her name. It’s a secret to Franco. 

“Table 3,” Aaron said as she reached for the tray from the counter. She smiled at him and to Maureen before heading to the said table. 

The wounds on her arm are barely visible now. She doesn’t really care, but Miss Katty has the opposite opinion. She helped her heal it because she knew full well her favorite girl won’t pay attention to her own wounds. She only felt relieved when the scars faded.  

The table is at the end and near the wall. A table for two. Sometimes for but only when the girls are sitting on the customers’ laps. She smiled at the man in the shadow. Though it was cold and insolent ― out of customary respect and never the genuine one. 

The rigid frame straightened from his seat when he caught sight of the approaching server.  

“This is your…” Siren trailed off, lifting the glass from the tray, and frowned when she confirmed how empty and clean it is. “This…,” she glanced over her shoulder and to the counter, but Aaron and Maureen were busy. 

“Still in here?”

She absentmindedly nodded to the man’s almost inaudible, crisp voice but halted as the familiarity of the sound registered on her. Her head spun around. She squinted her eyes to his silhouette. “Excuse me?”

“Sit down,” he ordered and gestured his hand on the opposite chair.

“You should sign in if you want to table me and―”

The man leaned on the table and steepled his hands together. “I said sit down.”

The protest left in her throat when she glimpsed a black jacket. 

The man wants to help her easily recognize him for wearing that same black hood jacket. Looking up, he intently watched Siren.

He hopes she’s not faking not to remember him because God knows…

“Y-You…!” Siren stuttered. 

He let out a brief sigh, but his glare at her intensified. “Still working here?” 

Siren blinked, utterly dumbfounded. She couldn't believe it’s been an entire month already. Her wild heartbeats made her doubt it because having this man in front of her, it felt like it was only yesterday. The icy wind and scent of him were in her system. Not from the present, but from that night. She had an urge to inch closer and smell this man in front of him. To be certain, they’re the same person. 

But his tone of voice was already a giveaway. 

She has trouble getting easily uncomfortable with the customer’s presence. She did assault a customer without knowing he’s a leader in a black market. But this man is different. She visibly shuddered when she remembered how his firm hand clasped over her mouth. She felt like it’s happening again.  

She turned around with the tray and empty glasses, but the man smoothly moved. The chair creaked behind him as he stood abruptly, his long and warm fingers enfolded around her arm. The glasses on the tray clashed but luckily didn’t fall. Siren glared at the man. Her hammering chest was inexpressible. For fear or disquietude, she couldn’t decipher. 

“Siren,” Sito called, who walked to them after noticing the man’s advances. He’s merely working to look after Siren for a month now. It’ll be trouble-free to look after her and prevent another disorder. 

The man glared at Siren but didn’t throw a glance at Sito. 

Standing, the man’s face exposed to dancing lights. The first thing she noticed was the slanted scar from his right jaw and below his chin. It was small, and barely visible in the dark — if only the lights were not bright and colorful. It was smaller and thinner than her present to Franco. 

Each time she saw it, the disgust crept in her at how hideous it looks. But this man’s scar made her shiver.

Instinctively, she retracted her arm back and receded, waiting for a few seconds before the feeling of being burnt subsided. His hand wasn’t constricting, and he had no intention to keep his hand on her. But the way he tilted his head on the side was an unobstructed view of his determination. 

The scar didn’t make him look less beautiful. He’s rough and dangerous. Everything about him was dark. His eyes, his eyebrows, his hair, his shirt, and his pants. But she couldn’t tell if his lips were blue or black because it’s in a thin annoyed line. 

Siren was ready to hit his face with a tray if he dared touch her again, but he jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. She assumed he’s referring to the back door as he muttered, “I’ll wait.” His jaw clenched as if simply saying the words were a struggle to him. 

He walked past them. Siren instinctively closed her eyes when his familiar scent assailed her nostrils. Her body visibly trembled. She set the tray on the table and slouched on the chair the man offered to her earlier. 

She could ignore the man if she wants. That kind of suave style wasn’t new to her. She would only sway her head, amused by their hard work to play the role of a bad boy character. 

But she knew this guy was not playing. In fact, he’s not showing interest in Siren. He’s nothing but a silhouette of mystery. 

Sito agreed not to tell Kendra about it since nothing really happened. Sito advised her not to go out and see the guy and claimed the guy’s only playing tricks on her. 

She obliged and didn’t go out until it’s time to go home. It was past three in the morning. Siren struggled to ignore the chills on her bone and fought the man’s presence off her head. She wouldn’t know if he’s still outside, waiting, since she’s not using the backdoor to leave the building. She doesn’t want to believe the man will wait for her for over five hours in that cold and dark alley. 

Her heart was pounding. She ran for the van, waiting for them. She felt eyes watching her, but she told herself she’s being delusional, blaming the mysterious man when she almost stumbled forward at the curb.

Concealing the man’s presence from her bosses was a big mistake. 

They received their wages for the night in the van. It’ll drop them off in the Walk Street and in front of the Angel’s Night Lab, and everyone is then set to separate ways and go home on their own. 

One girl was having non-stop indirect remarks pertaining to Siren, but just like her every day, she would ignore it, treating the insecure girls like polluted air. She changed her heels with her slipper and walked out of the building. She thought of leaving her shoes in the club but doubted and grabbed them. She couldn’t afford to leave it alone with those short-minded girls. Also, she thinks the heels will be her weapon to protect herself on her way home. 

Siren needs to walk a distance to reach the apartment. There is usually a pedicab going inside, but there was nothing at this hour. Sometimes she would wait or walk a little before a pedicab stopped beside her. But she halfway and yet to hear the pedicab or a motorcycle following her. 

It was years ago when Siren felt the fear of walking alone at this hour. But when they stayed in the area and Franco became notorious for all the trouble he committed, the anxiety faded. After years, she’s feeling the uneasiness again. Even worse than the first time. 

She doesn’t understand why she's fearing someone she doesn’t know, but that’s actually the matter. There are lots of scary things they could do. Worst of things. 

She cursed as she saw the flickering light of one post. It needs repair for a long time now. But she nearly shrieked in fear when the light went dead across from her. She ran out of instinct. She’s not familiar with all the streets in the area but memorized the shortcuts going to their apartment, so she turned a corner to confuse whoever’s following her. If there’s any. But better be sorry than being dead. 

Gasping for air, she saw the familiar broken door of their neighborhood. Behind it is their apartment. 

She doesn’t care if she walks into Franco banging a girl he found on the road. Or they must be asleep by now, and Siren would accept that scene than being followed on her way home. 

She doesn’t see anyone when she turns back to the darkness. 

I guess it’s my imagination; she thought.

She didn’t hear anyone running after her, so she must be fooling herself running like that. Sighing, she takes back her wish and hopes not to see Franco doing horrible stuff. Her hurried steps faltered. But turning on the corner, she met death. 

Or death found her. 

Her scream was once again held back. But instead of a palm, a gun stopped her. The cold nuzzle of the weapon was resting on her shoulders. The long finger of the man was one-pull away from moving the trigger and her brains will explode around. And people will know about it when the sun shines because of the silencer. 

“W-Who are you?” Her lips trembled. 

“Didn’t I f*****g warned you not to show up on that place again?”

“W-Why?”

“Why?” The question sounded offensive to him. He tilted his head to contemplate whether it’s worth killing the woman in an instant or make her suffer first. 

“Are you working for Pablo Cartel? Did you… Did you give the money to keep our lips shut? Do you want me to start a new life with the money?” 

“For the one who made sure I follow you all the way here, you sure have questions. Where’s the money?” She pressed her lips closed. The man squinted her eyes at her. He thought he wanted him to follow her?

He noticed how the terrified look in her eyes vanished in a blink. It seems like she never felt the fear at all. For someone who’s seconds away from death, this woman is amazingly not shaking in fear. 

He lowered the gun to her pursed lips. Earning wider eyes in response. He thinks she’s more interested to get her questions answered than count the time possibly left to her.

“Where’s the money?” he repeated. 

The gun lowered again and pointed to her chin. He moved smoothly and calculated his manner. A mere action to get her full attention. The man demanded an answer. 

“I…” Siren started, but a sound from the small house on the right startled them. Or her. Because the man looked immovable.

The bright spread inside the house. Then the jerking sound that nearly woke up everyone in the place followed. Siren thought the man would pull the trigger because of the sound of the cooking stainless pot being thrown inside the house, but she was wrong. The man was as stiff as a statue. Not a single flinch or a blink of an eye.  

“You rascal, I knew you’re having a new affair again!” 

That voice of their neighbor was all familiar to Siren. She nagged night and day as if in a competition with a hen cracking like that. She wondered why her husbands were enduring all of it, especially that most of her words are all made up. 

Another household belongings made a sound that clang when it hit the ground. 

The rest of the dispute were all indistinct and became less interesting to Siren as the man smoothly dragged her on the corner. His palm slammed over her mouth, once again suffocating her.

The man only meant to keep her from making noise, but he’s not aware of how roughly he was smothering her. 

He glared down at the slender frame pushed against the bamboo fences beneath him. Their faces wrinkled by the smell of the piggery behind. The animals were silent but smelt like they'd survived a war in a desert.

The man planned to move them to the other corner to hide in the dark. But he forgot about the plan when their eyes met. It’s not the first time he saw her defiant glare, but it’s the first he halted as if lightning had struck him. 

Her eyes were pulling him to somewhere far and old. No emotions related because he feels cold as usual. But something about her halted his trail of thoughts. 

And for the first time, he noticed the blinding beauty of the woman. He internally calls himself stupid for not noticing it before. But he’s not after the looks and the appeal. He’s not eager for the luring beauty and body. He bedded as many wonderful women that he could remember, but his members never jerked so unexpectedly and aggressively. The massive bone stirred before he even realized he lusted for her. He’d rather have icy water splashed across his face than to accept that realization. But instead of cold water, his body scorched with fire. 

He had to distance himself a little from her. But he’s immobile. He wanted the sensation. He wanted that sudden burst of lust. f**k, he’s craving for it like he didn’t get laid before going to check if this piece of lustful flesh is still working in that f*****g brothel. 

The woman doesn’t know the threat she brought to her already worthless life for impeding Don Cartel. He has other business with the old man and doesn’t want countless trouble in between it.

Yes, he worked for him. He paid him millions after millions. He worked for everyone else, either, and never entertained minor tasks, as trivial as this cheap w***e. 

The moment the words registered on him, he jerked hard that he thought he exploded inside his pants. He tasted the disgust on his tongue. Cheap, dirty whores are never on his lists. 

Siren gasped at the abrupt movement in between them. She’s sure every part of the man’s body was as hard as a f*****g wall, but the wall doesn’t stir like that. Unless it’s ready to collapse from the bottom.

She’s not innocent with that kind of reaction, but it’s the first she actually felt it. Blushing is not her nature so, if the man’s expecting that from her, he’ll be very disappointed. She wanted to laugh at how this man who planned to kill her is also a prisoner of lust. Flattering? No. Her face was dense. 

Inside, she failed to ignore the shock all over her. 

The man noticed her reaction. Siren wanted to slap herself for failing to completely hide it. 

He hated the look on her as much as he hated his own reaction. He grabbed her small neck between his fingers and clutched tight, ready to melt the confidence that may surface on her small face. 

But he only felt harder. He choked her, wishing to kill the odd sensation radiating off him, but as he tightened his hold on her, he felt the punishment was backfiring on him. His hardness was restraining beneath his pants. He let go of her before he lost control of himself and burst.

Siren fell on her knees, gasping for air. The man glared at her small dress riding up to her thighs. He patted the bulge in his pants in an attempt to stop it, but the contact provoked it. He pointed the gun on the side of the w***e’s head. One pull. It takes one pull and his misery might end. Or not. 

He cleared his throat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeves of his jacket. “You’re given another chance to live. Don’t you f*****g dare me again,” he said and once again faded in the dark.

Siren rolled her eyes to the ground. Glaring at the pig watching her, she pocketed the leather wallet and spat on the ground.