Snippet #2386422

The moment the rays of the sun slipped through the blinds and onto his eyes, Cassus opened them. Leisurely, he sat up, looking around his room. It was neat, orderly. He could spot the tell-tale signs that gave away his hiding places: the small, ornate bookcase he had purchased and filled with a variety of books, classic and modern, a few of them hiding precious secrets he had picked up in the Miami underworld, the loose floorboard that hid his box of tools and weapons, and two separate wine racks: one with wine and liquor bottles containing poison, the other with bottles containing the antidotes.

Truthfully, he had gotten good. Too good. He began with taking out street rat and other low-lifes like himself for other scumbags slightly higher up the criminal hierarchy. Then he bumped off bigger fish: rogue gang leaders and mafia family members, a few cops, and moles with enough information and former rank to warrant their deaths before they could seal their deal with the cops. Eventually it extended to foreign criminals, politicians, certain people the Communist government in Cuba wanted dead, the powerful wealthy who thought themselves untouchable.

When it came down to it, there were too many powerful factions that wanted him to work for them and them alone and if he didn't, they'd make sure he was dead so he could not harm them. It had been time to go underground. Of course, most assumed that he had fled town or the country. None expected him to be hiding out in a hotel of all places.

Cassus began his morning routine. He showered, brushed his teeth, did fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups, and fifty jumping jacks in conjunction with some stretches to liven his body up. He strapped on a kevlar vest before dressing himself in dark, expensive, but unassuming clothes. He slipped out of his hotel room and fastened the custom locks he had purchased before making his way to the Lobby.

Bianca was sitting at her usual place, but lacked her usual impeccable appearance. Still, her dishelved manner couldn't hide her beauty. He suspected that her top button was undone purposefully, but he was unsure if she was wearing a skirt too small for her on purpose or if she had hurriedly picked it out this morning. He smiled at her in greeting as he passed her by, noting her hair.

"Still blonde today, bella?" he asked her lightly as he made his way to the dining hall for breakfast. In his experience, dye jobs were too bothersome to maintain in the long-term. One had to keep dying the roots or risk exposure. Of course, he had told her that her natural hair colors was much prettier.

Without another word, he made his way to the dining hall. They were having a breakfast buffet, as always, and he loaded a plate with eggs, lean bacon, toast, and some fruit before taking his seat. At his table, like the other tables, was a pitcher of cool ice water, which he poured into a glass before biting into a strawberry. Eventually, a waitress came by asking if he wanted to drink in addition to his water and he requested a pot of ginseng tea.

Life was good, if a bit boring.