In The Drug dealer's den

As they broke apart, Maverick couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. He had gained Victor's attention, and maybe, just maybe, he would make it out of this alive.

Victor's eyes seemed to gleam with amusement, as if he knew exactly what Maverick was thinking. "Don't worry, Birdie," he said, his voice low and husky. "I won't hurt you. At least, not yet."

Maverick's heart skipped a beat as Victor's words hung in the air. He knew he had to keep playing along, to see where this would lead.

"So, what's next?" Maverick asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Victor smiled again, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Oh, I think we're just getting started," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation.

“Getting started? How so?” Maverick looked confused.

“How about I lead you to the main room?” Victor suggested, and without waiting for Maverick's response, he grabbed his hand, and they both walked into a club.

A lot of people both men and women, were seated in the room.

The club, known as "Empty," was a dimly lit, underground venue that pulsed with the rhythmic beats of electronic music. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and sweat, and the crowd was alive with the energy of young people letting loose. Strobe lights flashed, casting flickering shadows on the walls as patrons danced, lost in the music.

As Victor led Maverick into the main room, they were immediately enveloped by the pulsating energy. The room was filled with people seated on plush couches, sipping drinks and chatting. Others danced, lost in the music, while some couples indulged in intimate moments, their bodies pressed together in the dim light.

The music was loud, a constant beat that seemed to reverberate through every cell in their bodies. The DJ, a figure shrouded in shadows, expertly mixed tracks, keeping the crowd entranced. The atmosphere was one of reckless abandon, where inhibitions were shed, and desires were indulged.

Victor passed through the crowd with ease, his hand still clasped around Maverick's. They wove past couples and groups, earning curious glances and nods of acknowledgement. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke, sweat, and desire, creating an intoxicating cocktail that drew Maverick deeper into the heart of the club.

“Is this the errand boy?” An elderly man, probably in his late sixties, asked with raised brows. His eyes were scrutinizing Maverick.

“Yes, sir. Introduce yourself!” Victor ordered Maverick.

Maverick wanted to close his nose, because the club smell was so bad that he couldn't breathe, but he controlled himself.

“Good day, sir. My name is Birdie High, and My Boss, Mr. Mark, sent me here to deliver a box of cocaine,” Maverick explained, his voice shivering.

Victor and the man in his late sixties erupted into laughter, mocking Maverick's words.

“He talks like a saint. My Boss, Mr. Mark, sent me to deliver cocaine ....” The elderly man mimicked Maverick's words. “Are you a virgin, Bird?” He asked, teasing Maverick on purpose.

Maverick squinted his eyes, he didn't know how to answer the question. “Umm, your question is surprisingly sir,” he stuttered, wondering if he said anything wrong.

“I mean is this your first time in your club? You're shivering like a chicken. Also, how did you know that the box contained cocaine? Did you open it?” The elderly man sneered at him. Victor stood at the man's back, admiring Maverick's features.

“Of course not, I didn't open it. I wouldn't dare do something like that. Forgive me if I look scared, but this is my first mission, and I want to perfect it,” Maverick stammered. He had almost begun to blame himself for coming to the club. ‘I should have told Ashley, he would have probably accompanied me.’ He thought.

“Ah ah! I thought as much, this looks like your first mission. Anyway, Victor don't keep him waiting too long, collect the white box of money and hand over the substances to him,” The elderly man informed Victor with a smile before leaving.

“Yes, sir!” Victor nodded and bowed.

‘Box of money?’ Mark was right, the bag didn't contain cocaine, it was filled with money. Fuck, I am sure a fool, I should have checked it before bring it here. What if it had contained my assassination letter?’ Maverick thought as Victor checked the content of the box.

Victor counted the pounds in the white box, a ghostly smile on his face. “Good, the money is complete, come for your package.” He informed him.

‘My package?’ Maverick wanted to ask if the package was something big, but he decided to keep quiet.

They both entered a storage unit, this place was covered in a thick fog, blocking Maverick's vision. He couldn't see properly, but he noticed when Victor opened a huge refrigerator and brought out a small bag containing white content.

“Here this is your package, Birdie,” Victor said, pushing the bag into Maverick's hand.

“Thanks a lot, sir,” Maverick appreciated, offering Victor a smug smile. He realized that his prediction had been wrong and that he was on the wrong track.

‘If Lanky is a drug dealer, why is Mark buying drugs from another Boss?’ Maverick wondered, looking at the bag in his hand. ‘Or perhaps Lanky refused to sell his drugs to his brother,’ he murmured under his breath.

“Are you talking to me?” Victor asked, as he led Maverick out of the club.

“No, I was just mumbling jargons to myself,” Maverick replied, laughing nervously.

“Oh,” Victor hummed. When they got to the front of the club, he took his hand and shook Maverick's. “It's an honor to meet you, but I will remind you to strictly follow our two policies.

Number One: Do not tell anyone where you bought the drugs from.

Number Two: If you're caught, do not share our location. Failure to follow our two rules might lead to your strange demise,” he warned him, his voice becoming menacing and threatening.

Maverick nodded in understanding. “I will follow your policies, trust me,” he promised.

“Okay, well, in that case, how about we talk about what happened earlier, I mean the time you kissed me. Are you down for the night?” Victor asked in a whisper.