Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 28 Confession
Rubens, his face slightly flushed with drunkenness, casually draped his arm over the woman's slender waist, pulling her closer.

"I knew it, I'd want to have another drink later."

His voice was deep, his smile ambiguous, and his fingers casually brushed through her long hair on her shoulder: "After all, nights like this deserve more celebration."

A blush rose on the woman's cheeks as her fingertips traced his chest. "Oh? Are you celebrating meeting me, or celebrating finally being able to relax today?"

“Of course it’s you.” Rubens leaned down slightly and whispered in her ear, his warm breath brushing against her earlobe. “Nothing else matters.”

The woman let out a few soft laughs, her chest heaving, causing a flurry of white skin to tremble.

Rubens enjoyed the almost provocative suggestion, a smile playing on his lips as he happily pushed open the apartment door.

The room was dark.

He casually fumbled on the wall to turn on the light, then stepped aside to let the woman go in first, giving her a couple of light pinches on the waist, which earned him a coquettish glare from her.

Welcome to my—

He froze before he could finish speaking.

A blond man had appeared in the living room sometime earlier.

He slumped on the sofa, legs spread apart, his face showing utter boredom.

"Who are you? How did you get in? I... I'm warning you to leave immediately, or I'll call the police."

His muscles tensed involuntarily, and Rubens reprimanded him while trying to remain calm.

His female companion, sensing danger, quickly retreated, her gaze darting back and forth between Rubens and the strange man.

The blond man then spoke up: "Scott Holden."

As he introduced himself, he got up and approached the two flustered people.

“I have been asked by Álvaro Domingos to ask you a few questions.”

The woman had already moved to the doorway, her hand on the doorknob, trying to escape.

However, Scott didn't give her a chance to leave, grabbing her shoulder in one swift motion.

"Don't fucking move, I don't want to see blood tonight."

Hearing the threat in his words, the woman froze on the spot, clutching her bag tightly with both hands.

The next second, Scott swiftly raised his hand, twisted his wrist, and a tiny syringe plunged into Rubens' neck.

"Hold--!"

Rubens instinctively tried to struggle, but a violent wave of dizziness instantly swept over his body.

His vision blurred, he stumbled, and fell to the floor with a thud.

A woman's terrified scream rang out, then abruptly ceased.

Rubens' consciousness rapidly slid into darkness.

Before he completely lost consciousness, the last shred of reason told him—it was all over.

After an unknown amount of time, Rubens suddenly opened his eyes, breathing rapidly, his back soaked with cold sweat.

He tried to move his hands and feet, only to find himself firmly strapped to a chair.

The rough nylon rope dug into his body, and with the slightest struggle, the friction and pain tore at his skin, forcing him to stop.

My female companion tonight was also tied up.

Across the table from him, a towel was stuffed in her mouth, and she was sobbing incoherently, her whole body trembling.

"look at me."

Scott's voice suddenly rang out from behind.

Terrified, Rubens instinctively turned his head and saw the man standing not far away, holding a pistol with a silencer in his hand.

Rubens' Adam's apple bobbed. He forced himself to take a deep breath and managed a weak smile. "Sir, I think there must be some misunderstanding. After all, I—" "Stop talking nonsense and get to the bottom of this."

Scott's voice suddenly turned cold.

He took two steps forward and pressed the muzzle of his gun directly against Rubens' forehead.

Rubens' lips trembled, his eyes flashing frantically: "What I told Mr. Domingos was the truth, absolutely no lies. I even gave him access to Gina's location data—"

boom!
The butt of the gun slammed into his face, and blood streamed down his temple.

Rubens let out a painful howl, his whole body leaning back, but he was still firmly bound to the chair and unable to move.

"Listen, you son of a bitch, I have a million ways to get you to talk, so stop with the nonsense and just tell me the truth, don't waste my time."

Rubens' chest heaved violently.

His intuition told him that if he didn't tell the truth, he would really die here.

"me."

His throat seemed to be stuck, and the sound he made was weak and hoarse.

Scott lost his patience and drew his saber, holding it to his face: "Three seconds. Get ready to say goodbye to your left eye."

A sharp pain shot through me as the knife tip made a shallow cut on my skin.

In an instant, Rubens's resolve crumbled completely in the face of fear, and he broke down, screaming:
“I made the recording! I asked Gina to do it because my friend said that Alvaro’s account was involved in suspicious transactions. But I just wanted to check something to exchange for money. I had no malicious intent.”

"Where's the recording?"

"The recording... The recording isn't in my hands! Really! That bitch gave it to someone else, I don't know who, but it's definitely someone from the bureau."

Who are your friends?

"Noah Simmons, his name is Noah Simmons."

Rubens cried out, snot and blood dripping onto his shirt: "But I swear, he meant no harm, really! I swear to God!"

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to see Mr. Domingos. I want to confess to him that I really didn't mean to do this. Please give me a chance to make amends. I beg you, I beg you."

Scott remained unmoved, and simply pulled a black rubber tourniquet from his pocket.

Rubens' pupils contracted; he knew what that meant.

"No, no, I was wrong, please don't do this."

He struggled so desperately that he almost convulsed, pleading incoherently.

Scott still did not respond. He knelt down on one knee, pulled Rubens' right arm over, and wrapped the tourniquet around the elbow.

The blood vessels bulged under pressure, revealing prominent veins.

He patted Rubens's inner forearm and found the most prominent vein.

“You’re lucky. It’s medical-grade sufentanil. I don’t usually even use it.”

As Scott spoke, he carefully took a syringe from his pocket and removed his protective cap.

Rubens stared blankly at the needle, utterly despairing.

"Tomorrow morning, you will be found dead in your bed, with your female companion, like two drug-overdose bastards."

The needle is inserted into the vein, and the medication is slowly administered.

Rubens was in a daze.

The world around me became blurry and the colors distorted, like an overexposed dream.

Scott loosened the tourniquet, lifted his chin, and looked mockingly into his increasingly unfocused eyes:
"You got off easy."

(End of this chapter)