Dacatt 18

The bald man reached out, his large hand plucking the check off the table and examining it with a satisfied smile. He then glanced at the file and flipped through the pages. When he was done, he nodded.

"Now you're speaking my language."

Evans nodded back, pleased with his reaction. "I've heard... glowing reviews about you, Mr. Dacatt. They say you're the best at what you do. A man who doesn't fail. I trust you'll get the job done properly. Unlike the last incompetent fool we hired."

Dacatt's smile disappeared instantly, replaced by a cold glare. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table to whisper. "I'm not some incompetent fool you picked off the street, Mr. Evans. When I take a job, I see it through."

"I'll handle this girl. But you should know—I don't rush my work. I take my time to ensure things are done… cleanly."

The mention of meticulous work sent a shiver of excitement down Evans's spine. His hands trembled slightly, not with fear but with anticipation. He couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled from his throat. "That's exactly what I want to hear. Take your time, Mr. Dacatt. As long as she's dealt with before she can marry that useless fiancé of hers, I'll be a happy man."

While Evans seemed happy with the arrangement, Alfonso, who sat beside him, wasn't convinced as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, glancing nervously between Dacatt and the photos of Adeline. Leaning closer to his brother, he whispered, "Are you seriously throwing a million dollars at this guy? What if he runs off with the money? You're being reckless, Evans."

Before Evans could respond, Dacatt's palm slammed down on the table, causing the wine glasses to rattle violently. Alfonso shifted his head towards Dacatt, flinching as he saw the terrifying look on his face.

"How dare you?" Dacatt said angrily as his cold gaze zeroed in on Alfonso, who instinctively shrank back. "Do you take me for some lowlife scammer? Let me make one thing clear—I am Dacatt. One of the top hitmen in this country. I have a reputation to uphold, and I don't tolerate insults. If you don't trust me, then take your filthy money and get the fuck out of my sight."

Evans, despite the chill of the air conditioning, felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. Raising both hands, he gave an uneasy laugh. "Please, Mr. Dacatt, ignore my brother. He's... cautious to a fault. I trust you completely, and I know you'll deliver. Let's not let his foolish words ruin this arrangement."

Evans shot Alfonso a look that could kill, silently warning him to keep his mouth shut. Alfonso, irritated, grabbed his wine glass, drained it in one gulp, and stood up.

"Do what you want. I'll be waiting outside." Turning his back to them, he strode towards the exit of the VIP room.

Dacatt's eyes followed Alfonso until he was out of sight before he turned his attention back to Evans. "I'll handle Adeline," he said, his voice returning to its calm, businesslike tone. "But like I said, I don't rush. If you can't accept that, walk away now."

Evans laughed, waving dismissively. "I trust you, Dacatt. As long as you take care of her before that brat can say 'I do,' we're golden."

Dacatt leaned forward, extending his hand across the table. "Then we have a deal."

His grip was almost crushing as Evans shook it, nodding with excitement. "I'll be waiting for good news, Mr. Dacatt."

Dacatt said nothing, only giving a curt nod before standing. As he left the room, Evans sank back into his chair, sighing in relief.

--

Alfonso stood outside the bar with his back against the brick wall, puffing on a cigarette. The cigarette dangled from his fingers as he exhaled, staring blankly at the darkened street ahead.

The sound of the bar's door creaking open made him glance sideways. Dacatt emerged and stopped, sparing Alfonso an uninterested look before striding past him. Alfonso's eyes followed him until he disappeared into the night.

Moments later, Evans stepped out with a smug expression. Spotting Alfonso, he walked over, wordlessly plucking the cigarette from his brother's fingers. He took a quick drag and exhaled slowly before dropping it to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe.

He then leaned against the wall beside him, staring at the same empty street. "You need to calm down and understand, brother. Everything I'm doing—this whole plan—it's for all of us. When Adeline is gone, it won't just benefit me. It'll benefit all of us. Her inheritance will secure our futures. Yours, mine, Richard's. Everyone's."

Alfonso turned to look at him, opening his arms in exasperation. "That doesn't mean you can go around throwing money at every so-called professional you meet. You just handed over a million dollars to a random hitman you found today. A million, Evans!"

Evans sighed, running a hand through his hair and trying his best not to argue. "The money doesn't matter. Once Dacatt finishes the job…Once Adeline is out of the picture, we'll have more money than we know what to do with. That million will feel like pocket change. So stop getting worked up over it."

Alfonso let out a bitter laugh and stepped forward, just as Evans finished speaking. "And what if he doesn't get the job done, huh? What then?"

"We've already burned through most of what we have left because you keep wasting it carelessly. We're running out of funds, Evans! If that brat survives this, and worse, gets married to that guy, you know damn well we won't see a single dime from her. Not even if we crawl on our knees and beg."

Evans clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He hated being questioned, but Alfonso's words hit a nerve. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain composed.

"This will work."

Dusting off his jacket, Alfonso shook his head and began walking toward their car. "For your sake, I hope so. Because if it doesn't, I don't think we'll even be able to afford another hitman."