Chapter Text
zugzwang
the moment when the player realizes defeat is inevitable, and may only choose the way in which he loses
“chess is war over the board. the object is to crush the opponent's mind.”
- bobby fischer
o n e - s i c i l i a n d e f e n s e
“John MacTavish, but everyone calls me Soap.”
Simon eyed the man in front of his desk; he was good-looking, well-built, and a little on the young side. But he was smiling easily, and didn’t seem intimidated by the reputation of notorious weapon’s dealer “Ghost” Riley, nor the skull mask staring him down. “You’re one of Vargas’ men,” Simon remarked.
“Aye, that I am,” Soap agreed with a chuckle. “But I’ll be honest with you, drugs ain’t really my wheelhouse. But weapons? That’s a business I’d like to be in.”
As Simon began to respond, he was cut off by a gentle kick to his thigh. He looked at Roach, who was sitting on his desk, facing him. ‘Don’t turn him away without hearing him out,’ the man signed with a smirk. ‘You’re too quick to judge.’
With a sigh, Simon sat back in his chair and waved vaguely at the chair next to Soap. “Sit,” he said, instead of leave. “All right, MacTavish,” he continued when Soap did and Roach shifted to face them both, “tell me why I should waste my time on you.”
Soap laughed, settling into the chair and propping his ankle up on the opposite knee; he looked quite comfortable. “Only time wasted is Vargas’, sir. I might not have much experience in the weapon’s business, but I know my way around any gun you’ve got and then some. I’ve got the skills to keep your product out of the wrong hands, and to keep competitors in their place. And besides Vargas, around here, your operation is the only other one with enough longevity to make me think I’m not tossin’ my lot in with a sinkin’ ship.”
“You practice that pitch in the mirror this morning?” Simon asked with a smirk, leaning his head into his hand, propped up on the arm of his chair. His snark earned another kick from Roach, but he ignored it; Soap didn’t seem put off by it, in any case. “So you’ve got no experience in my line of work, and you currently work for my biggest rival. Tell me why I shouldn’t have you shot and be done with it.”
“It’d be your loss,” Soap said with an easy shrug. “I’ve got no love for Vargas and his entire operation. But you, sir,” he leaned forward with a grin, “you’ve got my interest. I saw what happened to that wankstain of a politician who tried to take you down last year: all of his secret online personas publicized to an appalled public and one particularly surprised wife? Vargas would never have that level of creativity.”
Roach chuckled. ‘The kid’s a fan of yours, love.’
“Hush,” Simon hissed, slapping Roach’s leg lightly. To Soap, he said, “That brilliant decision was actually my partner’s.” He nodded to Roach. “If you listen to him, Gary here is the real brains of the operation.”
“Well,” Soap said, smirking as he winked at Roach, “I think you’ll find I’ll have trouble listenin’ to someone who doesn’t talk, so you’ve still got the credit for it all in my book.”
‘I like this one,’ Roach told Simon, grinning back at Soap.
Simon sighed, rolling his eyes. ‘He’s practically a child,’ he signed. ‘You really think it’s worth the time to train him?’
‘At the very least, he’ll be nice to look at,’ Roach pointed out, nodding at Soap as if Simon wasn’t already well-aware how beautiful the man was. ‘Never hurts to have some eye candy around.’
‘Are you going to try to fuck the eye candy?’ Simon shot at him.
‘Are you?’ Roach retorted.
‘I don’t have to hire him to do that, do I?’ Simon pointed out.
“Seems like knowin’ sign language would be useful in your operation,” Soap cut in with a light laugh.
“It’s not a requirement,” Simon said, sitting forward. “Very few of my people bother with it. And you don’t have the job yet, MacTavish. I’m still not convinced.”
Soap smiled, settling back into his chair. “I dinnae think there’s anything I could say that would convince you, sir. All I can do is show you I’m worth it. So tell me what you want to see.”
‘I can think of several—’ Simon grabbed Roach’s thigh to stop him mid-sentence, earning a laugh. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t want to see what he can really do,’ Roach continued, ignoring the pointed squeeze. ‘He’d look good in our bed, don’t you think?’
“I will remove you from my office,” Simon told him, although he did have trouble stifling his smirk as he responded with a quick, ‘Obviously.’ “All right, MacTavish, let me consider it. At the very least, my partner seems to think you’ve got something worthwhile. I know how to reach you.”
“Understood.” Soap stood, smiling at them both. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. And for the record—” His smile turned to a smirk, and he raised his hands. ‘There are very few beds I don’t look good in.’
Simon’s eyes went wide; Roach fell off the desk laughing.
“Cheers,” Soap said, winking at a stunned Simon. Then, looking incredibly satisfied, he turned and left the office.
‘If you don’t hire him, I’m leaving you,’ Roach signed from the ground, doubled over with laughter.
About a decade prior, an unknown source reached out to Alejandro Vargas in Mexico and Simon Riley in the UK, and offered significant initial resources if they would come to the United States and expand their businesses. Despite never meeting with the faceless benefactor, both agreed. And so the rivalry began.
Between the Vargas Cartel and the Ghostrunners, the majority of North America was never left wanting for drugs and weapons. The two operations existed in uneasy symbiosis, centered in New York City, and clashed on the odd occasion when boundaries were overstepped. Otherwise, they tended to act as if the other didn’t exist.
Alejandro Vargas ran his operation with an iron fist, quickly eliminating problems and ensuring his reign was unquestioned. His right hand was a woman named Valeria, who delighted in enforcing his will with savage brutality. Recently, in a surprising move, Alejandro announced his marriage to Rodolfo Parra, heir to the extremely wealthy and well-connected Parra family, who had made their fortune in trade and real estate. While the couple appeared to all outside observers to be as happy as any money-based match, rumors abound that the marriage was arranged in order to expand Alejandro’s reach throughout the world.
Across the city, Simon Riley managed his ever-growing operation behind the persona of Ghost, a fearsome and merciless man in a skull mask. Like Alejandro, Simon didn’t take kindly to dissension in the ranks, and was swift in addressing issues. While his own methods could border on savage, his longtime partner Gary “Roach” Sanderson lended a defter touch, often squashing problems before they could arise in the first place. It was an open secret that the two were more than business partners, though that knowledge was not confirmed outside of their closest circles.
With the world as their chessboard, Vargas and Ghost moved their pieces around with calculated ease, sacrificing when necessary, steadily gaining ground, and protecting their most valuable assets behind carefully constructed barriers designed to give even the most tenacious opponents pause.
But as with any game of chess between practiced players, both Vargas and Ghost know that the most valuable piece is never the king. Despite differing opinions on their respective queens, both men will soon realize just how important they truly are.
This was bullshit.
Alejandro couldn’t believe what he’d been saddled with. How the hell did the Parras think they could stick him with their useless son? Yes, all right, so this partnership came with territory and opportunities galore, but at what cost? Apparently, his freedom.
He lit a cigarette and leaned back in his office chair. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. A marriage contract stared him down.
Rodolfo Parra. Rudy. Heir to the Parra fortune, unwilling heir to the Parra family business. The Parras ran a trading business throughout the world, nevermind their extensive real estate holdings; they were able to reach anywhere and everywhere. Alejandro had long wanted to access their network to move his goods past his current bounds. Rudy, as it turned out, was his golden goose. The Parras knew their son didn’t have it in him to continue their legacy, and somehow they decided Alejandro would be their new son-in-law.
And so they saddled him with their spoiled, idiot son. Alejandro had heard stories about him, but he had only caught a glimpse of him briefly in passing when he met with the Parras at their manor early in his career. They had tried to pull the same stunt then, but Alejandro had strongly refused. He didn’t take handouts. He was a one man machine, and had built his empire with his own two hands.
“Staring at it won’t make it not happen, señor,” a voice near the door startled Alejandro, making him jerk in his chair. He looked over to the office doors and took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling with a chuckle.
“This is so stupid, Hal. I didn’t ask for a trophy wife. They’re just offloading him on me.” Alejandro stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray next to the contract and leaned back. He looked towards the door and stared at the man there. Hal had proven useful over the past few months, and had given Alejandro a lot of helpful insight into the Parra family. Though technically in the Parras’ employ, Hal had agreed to assist Alejandro in a temporary advising capacity until the dealings had concluded.
Despite seeing many things throughout his career, Alejandro could never look at Hal for long. Turning away, Alejandro once again found himself face to face with the marriage contract. It was certainly better than the scars that marred the other man’s face, hiding the eyes Alejandro was sure he once had. “I am a businessman, hermano. Not a family man.”
Hal moved into the office, and sat on the edge of the desk. “I’ve worked with the Parra boy for a while now; I think he has some potential. But if you don’t at least fake some joy, you’ll be kissing the best opportunity to have ever fallen in your lap goodbye.”
Alejandro scoffed, “I don’t want him; I don’t want this. I can do this on my own. How the hell can you claim he ‘has potential’? He’s a spoiled, sheltered kid - just dead weight!”
“You have to fix your face and attitude before the morning, señor,” Hal laughed lightly and stood up to begin walking out. “You’d do well to show the Parras how gracious you are for their interest in helping you advance your business. Al menos mi Rudy es guapo, no?”
With that, Hal swiftly exited the office before Alejandro could give him some choice words. He was right, unfortunately. Gaining access to the Parras’ network would give him a comfortable upper hand over Simon Riley’s enterprise. The fucker. This marriage was a necessary sacrifice in order to come out on top. Hopefully Rudy will be more than just a pretty face, though he sure as hell wasn’t holding out hope.
“You’ll start with overseeing easy runs,” Simon explained, leading Soap through the warehouse they used as a minor hub. “You said you know the city, and I’m assuming you know Vargas’ territory, so I’d like to see how you do with planning routes.”
Once the embarrassment of finding out Soap had known everything he and Roach had been silently saying about him had worn off, Simon had indeed called Soap in for a trial run. They had tacitly agreed not to mention anything that might have been “overheard” before Soap made it clear he knew sign language. Soap did seem eager to prove himself, and didn’t complain about starting with low level work.
“Have you considered utilizing the rivers?” Soap asked as they paused in the tour when someone handed Simon a clipboard. “Vargas never wanted to risk it, but it’s not nearly as heavily patrolled as the highways and backroads.”
“I have considered it,” Simon confirmed. “No, this is an old schedule; what the fuck am I paying Stevenson for if he can’t even pass out updated schedules? Christ, I swear he’s on his last fuckin’ leg here. Go get the new one, and then find me.” He shoved the clipboard back at the startled woman and swept past her. “Expanding into waterways is tricky; though I’m not surprised Vargas isn’t giving it a second thought.”
Soap chuckled, following. “Yeah, sure, it’ll take some new resources, but hey, you’ve been doing pretty well for yourself. Is it true you’ve expanded your overseas operations?”
Simon slowed, glancing at Soap. “What makes you say that?” he asked.
“Ah, just rumors,” Soap said with a shrug and a smirk that said it was much more than that. “I just pick up information here and there,” he added when Simon’s eyes narrowed. “And for the record, Vargas doesn’t believe it.”
“Hm.” Simon gave him one last look, then continued. “If we were expanding overseas,” he said pointedly, “it would currently be on a trial basis. Nothing is set in stone.”
“You’ve got some solid contacts, then,” Soap hummed, glancing into a large storage bay with a few trucks. “Getting weapons outside the city and across borders, nevermind overseas, is an impressive thing.”
“I’ve been doing this for a long time,” Simon pointed out.
“Cannae be that long; you’re what, thirty?” Soap gave him an apprising once-over. “Thirty-two?”
Simon fought to hold back a smirk. “Yeah? You think so?”
“Ah fuck, I always overestimate,” Soap groaned. “You haven’t even hit thirty yet, have you? Fuck, first day on the job and I insult the boss.”
“I’ve gotten much worse, MacTavish; incorrectly guessing my age is hardly worth worrying about.” They came to a stop outside of an office; Soap was still looking somewhat abashed. Simon chuckled, and shifted closer. “I’m actually flattered,” he said in a lower voice. “You’ve gotta be in your late 20s, hm? And you think I’m barely older than you?”
Soap’s face flushed, and it seemed like he was suddenly unaware of what to do with his hands. “I uh, I’m— yeah, I’m twenty-eight,” was all he was able to mumble.
“Mm, like I said last week: practically a child,” Simon commented, letting his eyes travel over Soap’s body, who squirmed under the scrutiny. “But you wear it well; most around your age in the business don’t have your confidence.”
It was the first time Simon had acknowledged anything that he and Roach had been signing back and forth about Soap, and it seemed to bolster the man. Soap smirked a little, and leaned in. “I believe you said eye candy, sir.”
“I believe it was Roach who said that, actually,” Simon corrected, reaching up and putting a finger under Soap’s chin. “But he wasn’t wrong. Play your cards right, and you’ll have a bright future with me.”
“I like the sound of that,” Soap murmured, his smirk widening. “And what about with your organization?”
Simon chuckled, brushing his thumb over Soap’s lips before dropping his hand. “Cute and quick-witted; well, well, Soap, multi-talented as ever. You’ll be working here for now.” One last pointed up-and-down with his eyes, and Simon turned to the office. “Yvette can help settle you in; you’ll be working with her for the next few days.”
“Bit further away from HQ than I would’ve liked,” Soap hummed with a wink, following Simon into the office, where there was a woman at one of the two desks.
“Privileges are earned,” Simon said. “Yvette, this is the new kid, MacTavish. Show him the ropes.”
“Soap,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out to her.
She accepted it without looking up from the computer. “You will be paying me extra for it, Monsieur Fantôme?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Training is not in my job description.”
“If he survives the week, we’ll see about a bonus,” Simon said simply, turning to go. “Work hard, MacTavish. I expect good things.”
“I’ve got nothing but good things to offer, sir,” Soap assured him with a grin. Then, making sure Simon’s eyes were still on him, he added, ‘And I’d be happy to show you just how good I can be.’
Simon smirked. ‘I look forward to it,’ he signed, and left the office.
Rudy had taken the news of his marriage as well as one could expect. And by “well”, he took it kicking and screaming. His parents broke the news over dinner. Their reasoning? Rudy needed to go make something of himself, and if it wasn’t going to be in their business, they would find somewhere else for him to make a name for himself. Apparently, Alejandro Vargas was the perfect suitor. Vargas was bold, brash, and confident. He had single-handedly taken his cartel from doing back alley deals to trading drugs across international borders. Everyone knew he wanted to do more, to go further, but unfortunately lacked the resources - mainly money. There were seemingly no limits to what he was willing to do to gain ground in the game he played with Riley’s crew - dividing the country into neat little squares for the taking. And as his parents had clearly shown, Rudy was just another pawn in their game for power.
This was bullshit.
Rudy stormed back to his private wing of the manor and made sure to slam the door as hard as possible. Bullshit. He flopped onto his bed and laid there, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears. Absolute, complete bullshit. He knew how his parents felt about him, but marrying him off to someone he hadn’t even had a full conversation with? That was a new low.
There was a soft, curt knock at his door. He knew no one in his family would come to see how he was feeling, especially after the state he left the dining room in. He winced, realizing that some of the help left the room with cuts and bruises from his explosion - dishes went flying and frankly, he didn’t give a shit who was in the crossfire.
Rudy sat up with a huff. “Are you going to tell me this isn’t going to suck?” he called out from where he was sitting against his headboard, avoiding looking at the door. When the door didn’t open after a few moments, Rudy turned to face it with a frown. “Hal, I know you’re out there. Just come in for Christ's sake.”
Hal entered the room silently, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. “Rodolfo, que paso? I thought we discussed this. You are old enough to stop acting like a belligerent child.”
Rudy scoffed and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. “Listen, you’re not the one who was just sold off like a prized hog. Am I supposed to sit in his house like some princesa locked in a tower?”
Hal turned and walked over to the bed, taking a seat next to Rudy. He put a hand under Rudy’s chin and lifted his head up. “Rudy, mi corazon, stop acting like this. You must see it as I see it. Your husband has assets, and he isn’t bad-looking, either. Besides, you could have ended up with much worse.”
Rudy stared at Hal for a moment then brushed his hand away. “Just because he’s handsome doesn’t change the fact that he’s a cold-hearted, power hungry dick.”
Hal allowed his hand to drop back into his lap. “That may be, but what’s done is done. Tu entiendes?”
“Si,” Rudy mumbled. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
‘So?’ Roach took the tablet out of Simon’s hands, setting it on the desk behind him as he climbed into Simon’s lap. ‘How’d he do?’
“Acceptably,” Simon said with a shrug, wrapping his arms around Roach and leaning up to kiss him. “He’s quick on his feet, but has a bit of an ego about himself.”
‘Sounds perfect for you, then,’ Roach signed with a smirk.
“Shut the fuck up, Christ,” Simon grumbled, even as he chuckled. “He has a good head on his shoulders, all right? Generally quick, but sometimes I think he speaks before he thinks. Could be dangerous.”
‘As if your tongue’s never gotten you in trouble,’ Roach pointed out, then eased the mask off Simon’s face and set it aside.
“Still have mine, at least,” Simon grinned, making Roach roll his eyes. “You like my tongue, sweetheart.”
‘I do,’ Roach confirmed. ‘Wanna show me what you can do with it?’
“Wouldn’t want to get into any trouble,” Simon argued playfully, lifting Roach from his lap and onto his desk. “You lock the door on your way in?”
‘Who do you take me for?’ Roach scoffed. ‘Tell me more about Soap.’
“Suggested we consider using the rivers for transport.” Simon shrugged a bit, working on Roach’s belt. “Also seems to think we’ve expanded our overseas ops.”
‘Told you I liked him,’ Roach signed, tapping Simon’s nose with a smirk. ‘Did he tell you where he got that information?’
“Credit where credit’s due, he didn’t,” Simon hummed, snapping at Roach’s finger teasingly. “Knows to keep his sources quiet.”
‘He tell you anything about—’ He paused, lifting himself with his hands so Simon could tug his slacks off his hips. ‘He tell you anything about Vargas’ ops?’
“C’mon, Gary, let's give the kid a few days before asking him to snitch on his last boss,” Simon laughed, leaning in for another kiss. “Besides, you really think he was high enough on the ladder to know anything we don’t already?” he added, dropping to his knees.
‘He knew about the overseas ops,’ Roach pointed out, draping one of his legs over Simon’s shoulder. ‘Never know what he might have overheard.’
“You’re too optimistic,” Simon said, rolling his eyes. He leaned in, licking along the length of Roach’s cock. “Now will you let me suck your cock, or are you too distracted thinking about the hot new piece of ass we’ve hired?”
‘I can do both,’ Roach grinned down at him. ‘You hear from Yvette yet?’
Simon sighed with an affectionate roll of his eyes as he took Roach’s cockhead into his mouth. ‘She texted me an hour ago,’ he signed. ‘Said we need to hire more of him.’
Roach laughed gleefully. ‘I told you he’d be good!’
‘Just because he’s better than the last few we’ve hired doesn’t make him good,’ Simon retorted, sucking with a moan, and taking in a few more inches.
‘But he’s nicer to look at, isn’t he?’
‘Hey, watch it; he’s not the one with your cock in his mouth right now.’
‘I told you, I can do both.’ Roach winked down at him. ‘You really going to tell me you haven’t thought about how good he’s gotta look naked?’
‘You’re insatiable, sweetheart.’ Simon gave him a little smirk, and swallowed him down to the root.
‘Then shut up, and get my mind off him.’ Roach took his hands before Simon could respond and put them on his hips. ‘We’ve got dinner with Luci in an hour,’ he added, ‘so make it good, and I’ll fuck you when we get home.’
Simon smiled up at him as Roach combed a hand through his hair, and did exactly as requested.
For a cartel boss, Alejandro didn’t seem to live like one. His house was sizable, sure, but Rudy had certainly seen more impressive manors. He got out of the car, looking up at it with poorly concealed disapproval. At the very least, he hoped he would have his own room. He might be technically married to the man, but that didn’t mean he wanted to act like it.
“Not what you were hoping for?” Hal asked as an amused tenor began to drip into his voice.
“It’s fine,” Rudy muttered, ignoring Hal’s seemingly delighted tone, dropping his eyes to the front door as it opened. While he knew Hal was blind, the man seemed very in tune with him and he wasn’t going to give him any more reason to sound even more beguiled.
Alejandro walked out to meet them, followed by two men Rudy assumed were some of his lackeys. “Rodolfo,” Alejandro greeted him in a disinterested tone. “And this is your… caretaker? Hal, was it not?”
“Good to see you again, Señor Vargas,” Hal responded with a nod. Then he gave Rudy a subtle nudge as he continued to stay silent.
Rudy stifled a sigh. Tight-lipped, he said simply, “Alejandro.” They traded a glance, then both looked away.
“My men will bring your stuff in,” Alejandro said, motioning vaguely towards the car. The men in question moved forward and began unloading the car. Alejandro sneered. “I can’t believe they are losing an entire day of work just to take care of all of this. Have you never heard of ‘essentials’?” he said with distaste, eyeing the numerous suitcases and boxes that were appearing from within the car. “Or is everything just special to you chicos ricos?”
Rudy felt a hand on his arm as he started to respond; Hal was quietly reminding him to hold his tongue. Alejandro seemed to understand regardless, and rolled his eyes, turning back into the house. “Follow,” he ordered.
It took a moment; Rudy couldn’t remember the last time he had been given an order. But he felt Hal’s walking stick tap the back of his legs, and he stumbled forward, hurrying after his new husband.
Although Alejandro was giving them a tour, it was a rather abbreviated one. He stuck to the main hallways, pointing down smaller corridors with commentary such as, “The library is on the left,” and, “The staff quarters are through there.” On the second floor, he stopped outside a set of double doors. “These will be your rooms.” He pointed further down the hall. “Mine are further down the hall. If you have any questions, the staff can answer them.” And with that, he turned to go.
“Wait!” Rudy called before he could stop himself. He shrunk under the glare Alejandro turned on him, but pressed on. “You don’t… I mean, there aren’t any… rules?” he asked.
“Rules?” Alejandro repeated in consternation.
“You signed a contract with my parents,” Rudy continued, taking a step towards him. “You aren’t going to give me a bunch of rules to follow? Demand my presence at your side constantly?”
Alejandro scoffed with derisive laughter. “Why would I care? Just stay out of my way.”
Rudy blinked, an unfamiliar feeling in his gut. No rules? He didn’t care ? For his entire life, there had always been a long list of behaviors to avoid, things not to say, expressions to hide. With a marriage to a man who only wanted his family connections, he had expected more regulations and guidelines, not less. It hardly felt like freedom, but it was strangely liberating, just the same.
When Rudy could come up with no response, Alejandro turned again and began heading off again.
“Make sure everything is put away properly,” Rudy told Hal as a stack of his belongings came down the hall towards them.
Hal chuckled, agreed, and made his way into their rooms. Rudy, on the other hand, followed after Alejandro.
“What did I say?” Alejandro snapped when he realized Rudy had pursued him back to the first floor. He didn’t turn to face him, however, just continued on his way.
“You said there were no rules,” Rudy pointed out, perhaps a bit too smugly.
It had indeed crossed some sort of line; Alejandro spun around all at once, and before Rudy could process what was happening, his back was against the wall, and Alejandro’s arm was at his throat.
“Escúchame, niño idiota,” Alejandro hissed, leaning in close. “This is how this is going to work: as long as you are in my home, you will stay the fuck out of my way. Your parents offloaded you on me; they needed you out of their house, and I needed access to their network. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. This ‘marriage’ is a business transaction. ¿Comprendes?”
Thank god he was well-practiced at keeping his expression neutral, because being thrown against a wall and pinned there was an entirely new experience, and Rudy had no idea why he enjoyed it so much, especially from someone who was - for all intents and purposes - a complete stranger. This was the first time someone had legitimately not cared about him in such a thorough way.
Why was that so fucking hot?
“It is a business transaction,” Rudy agreed smoothly, squashing down the feelings he was having trouble naming, “but we should be keeping up appearances nonetheless, si? And surely your husband should be aware of how you manage your business.”
Whatever Alejandro had expected him to say, that was not it; Rudy watched as the man’s brow furrowed, and he leaned back with a look of bemusement. A beat, and then Alejandro dropped his arm, freeing Rudy from his hold against the wall. “Fine.” Alejandro gave him a quick once-over glance, and turned to continue on his way. “Fine,” he repeated, “but you will sit in the corner, and keep your mouth shut.” And with that, he entered a door at the end of the hallway.
Rudy hurried to follow, and caught the door just before it closed. Without looking at him, Alejandro pointed to an armchair in the corner by a bookshelf, behind a large desk with stacks of papers and a sleek laptop. Rudy went to it without a word, and sat as Alejandro took his own seat at his desk. The armchair was comfortable, and well-worn; Rudy found himself wondering if Alejandro used it often, perhaps to read. He glanced over the bookshelf next to him, surprised to see many old volumes of classics, most of which were clearly well loved, read many times. He looked back at Alejandro, but the man was pointedly not looking back at him, angrily shuffling through a pile of thick files.
“Tranquilo,” Alejandro reminded him, as if sensing Rudy had something to say.
So with the slightest of smiles, Rudy settled back into the chair, and watched Alejandro work. This might not have been what he wanted, but it was already proving to be significantly more interesting than he could have ever hoped for.