Chapter 95 - Mariano (1)

"It's a pleasure doing business with you." I shake Castro's meaty hand while my men unload the bags full of cash out of the SUV and into his warehouse. His men stand guard with rifles in hand, their eyes scanning the quiet surroundings and occasionally examining my men as they move about.

A sweaty smirk slides on Castro's face as I release his hand. I stop myself from wiping mine on my pants. Castro is almost thirty years older than me, and his face shows his old age, his hair graying at the sides. He lights a cigarette after offering me and I refuse, then he blows it out to the side as we stand in silence, waiting for the transfer to finish. "It's a shame your brother can't join us."

I want to laugh but I don't. "He's dead."

Castro blanches at my statement—or maybe at my lack of grief in that aspect. I said it without remorse. If he listened to me well, he might've probably noticed the hint of contentment that came with it.