The marketplace was a maze of movement, vendors shouting over one another, the smell of roasted corn, petrol, and sweat hanging thick in the humid air.
Kalisa moved with purpose, sunglasses shielding her sharp eyes. Days had passed since she last laid eyes on Don Khan's wallet, the one she never intended to steal. The one that had turned her into a hunted shadow.
She walked past the stalls like any other customer, pausing now and then to inspect trinkets, ensuring she didn't look rushed. She had stashed it carefully, and today, she'd come again to collect it.
She approached the stand casually, greeted the old man who owned it with a smile, and knelt as if checking the date on a dusty back issue. Her fingers slipped underneath the bottom shelf, right, and she lifted the rug where she had left it.
There, where they shot her, there where the wallet lies.
The wallet was still there, stained in her blood, untouched.
She tucked it inside her tote bag quickly, straightened, bought a newspaper for show, and walked away as calmly as she could. But she felt it.
Eyes.
Footsteps.
A presence behind her that didn't belong.
Two men had been trailing her from the west end of the market, and now they were picking up speed.
Kalisa's pulse quickened.
She turned the corner sharply, ducked into an alley, then another. Her movements were fluid, rehearsed. She doubled back, cut across a butcher's stall, nearly colliding with a hanging pig carcass, then slipped into a back entrance of a building that led out near the busy street.
By the time she entered the modest, half-empty coffee shop near the market's main entrance, she was two steps ahead of them.
She ordered a black coffee and took a seat by the window, the wallet now hidden again, this time under a stack of newspapers placed neatly at the magazine stands for customers.
Then the door opened.
The bell above chimed softly, but the weight behind the entrance chilled the air.
Don Khan.
He didn't walk. He entered, like a king in a foreign land that still knew to bow.
He was dressed simply in a grey suit, no tie, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, but the power radiated from him like heat. Two of his men flanked the door, one closed it behind him.
Kalisa didn't move.
He walked straight up to her table, leaned slightly over it, his eyes boring into hers.
"Where is it?" he asked. His voice was calm. But there was no mistaking the venom.
"Excuse me," Kalisa feigned ignorance.
Don Khan's eyes were piercing as if he spoke with them, "I am not going to ask again."
Kalisa tilted her head slightly, feigning confusion. "You'll have to be more specific."
Don Khan gave a dry, humourless chuckle. Then suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. His hands moved fast, brushing over her chest, and then he stopped.
He reached in beneath her bra and placed his hand in her blouse, touching her nipples as he searched for the wallet. He noticed the softness of her boobs, but that was not what he came for
His hands were fast and intentional as they slipped lower between her thighs in such a manner that it was seductive and enquiring.
Kalisa was troubled; she became wet and melted. She could feel the wetness between her thighs. She had a close and proper look at Don Khan. Though he was older, he was quite handsome with some great muscular features.
She flinched. "You're embarrassing me," she hissed through clenched teeth. "In public."
His eyes were dark. "If you knew who I was," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "you'd know this is the least of your concerns."
Their faces were inches apart. Kalisa stared into his eyes, refusing to flinch again.
But she didn't say a word.
He patted her sides once more, searched her purse briefly, then turned to his men and gave a curt shake of his head.
"I want that wallet, girl," he said, stepping back. "And you have one week. If I don't have it by then..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
Don Khan turned, just as calmly as he'd arrived, and walked out. His men followed.
Kalisa sat back down, her breath controlled but shaky; she knew just how dangerous the game had become.
The door of the Cafe opened again. This time it was Justin.
Kalisa barely had time to breathe after Don Khan's men left when Justin stepped into the coffee shop, breathless and looking like he had run a mile without stopping.
He scanned the room anxiously until his eyes landed on her, wide with a mix of relief and urgency.
Kalisa's spine stiffened. Her fingers curled subtly around the handle of her cup, but her eyes never left him.
He approached Kalisa quickly, his eyes darting to the entrance as though he expected someone or anyone to come barging in behind him.
Kalisa sighed, "What do I do with all these men harassing me?"
Justin looked at her and shook his head.
Kalisa was not going to mess around with him. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice low but sharp.
Justin slid into the seat across from her, wiping sweat from his brow. "You, you've got to give it back."
Kalisa narrowed her eyes. "Give what back?"
"The wallet," Justin said in a harsh whisper, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Don Khan's wallet. Please, Kalisa. Tell me you still have it."
She leaned back, a calm expression stretched over a brewing storm. "Are you following me?"
"What?" he blinked. "No, I just –" He paused, catching the sharp angle of her gaze. "Okay, maybe I was. But only to make sure you were safe."
Kalisa scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "You mean to make sure I didn't run off with the wallet."
"That thing is cursed," Justin hissed. "You don't understand. Don Khan isn't just angry, he's hunting. You, me and anyone involved."
Kalisa cocked her head, studying him. "You're shaking," she said, her voice quiet now. "Why?"
Justin wiped his hands on his jeans. "Because I saw what they did to the last person who crossed, Don Khan. I found him. Or what was left of him. Kalisa, this isn't some street job. This is Mafia business. You get in the way, you disappear."
Kalisa let the silence simmer. Then she delivered her lie with perfect timing and a calculated shrug.
"I went back to get it," she said. "It was gone." She lied.
Justin froze. "Gone?"
"Gone," she repeated, pretending to look troubled. "I stashed it at the stand. But someone beat me to it."
Justin stared at her, disbelief creeping across his face. "No… no, you're lying."
Kalisa gave him a cold smile. "Am I?"
He leaned forward, his voice cracking. "Kalisa, if you're playing games, you're going to get both of us killed."
She leaned in too, eyes sharp as blades. "And if you're hiding something, Justin, I'll find out what it is. You're acting scared. Too scared. What did you do?"
Justin recoiled as if slapped, but said nothing. The question hung between them like a noose.
"Let me worry about Don Khan," she said coolly. "You just make sure you stay alive long enough to tell me why you sent me into this blind."
She walked out of the café, her heels echoing with purpose, leaving Justin in the stale silence, haunted and now very, very alone. She had taken the wallet where she hid it without Justin noticing.
Justin stepped out of the coffee shop, running a hand through his hair, his mind reeling from Kalisa's calm deception. The late afternoon sun beat down on him, but the chill in his chest refused to melt. She was hiding something, he could feel it.
He barely took two steps when a black SUV rolled up with silent menace. The screech of the brakes was the only warning he got.
Doors opened. Three men stepped out, well-dressed, stone-faced, and deadly in their calm. Before Justin could react, one of them was behind him, the other two flanking him like walls closing in.
Then came the man himself.
Don Khan.
He stepped out of the vehicle like a ghost rising from smoke.
Justin froze, lips parting in surprise, then curling into a half-hearted smirk. "Don Khan... always a pleasure."
Khan didn't smile.
"Pleasure?" His voice was low, calm, but venom ran beneath the surface. "You think this is a pleasure, Justin?"
Justin swallowed hard.
"I gave you one simple job," Don Khan continued, circling slowly, like a predator studying a cornered animal. Steal from a detective. Discreet. Clean. No names. No mess."
Justin nodded quickly. "I know. I know what I was supposed to do. And I did it. I sent Kalisa, she's the best."
Don Khan's jaw clenched. "She is the one who stole from me."
"That's not on me!" Justin blurted. "You - - you disguised yourself. You were pretending to be the detective, weren't you? She saw you, thought you were the target—"
Khan's hand flew out, grabbing Justin by the collar and slamming him back into the black SUV. One of the guards took a menacing step forward but held back at a glance from their boss.
"I don't do pretending," Khan growled, his face inches from Justin's. "I don't hide behind masks. If she stole from me, it's because you didn't give her proper instructions. You misled her. And now you will fix it."
Justin gritted his teeth. "She says she can't find the wallet. That it's gone. Maybe someone else—"
"I don't care if she buried it in the middle of the damn desert," Don Khan said, his voice now disturbingly calm. "I get what I want. And what I want… is my wallet."
"I want every shred of it. Every secret it holds. And I want the two of you alive long enough to feel what happens when you fail me."
Justin's voice cracked under the weight of the moment. "Look, I'm working on it. Just give me more time—"
Don Khan released him abruptly, letting Justin stumble forward, gasping.
"No more time. No more excuses. Fix this, Justin. Or your bones will be the message I send to the next idiot who forgets who I am."
He turned to his men. "Watch him."
Justin stood trembling, chest heaving, the fear now carved deep into his gut.