Joseph

"Get information." He straightened his shirt, running his hand from his chest to his torso. "Don't arouse suspicion." The sneaker was placed on the edge of the bench, while his fingers deftly fiddled with the laces. "Eliminate the target." Yusuf muttered the main objective, glancing at his muscular body in the mirror. Yus is a mafioso who's been in the business for years. His hands are stained with blood, his ears have heard a million pleas and cries. His mission is to identify the owner of a large company who defrauded his gang and ended up in debt. And he's working undercover—as a trainer at a gym, that's the mask he's wearing now. He enters the exercise equipment bay, waiting for his first client. You walk out of the locker room, shaking your head, looking for your coach. Yusuf immediately recognized from your confused eyes whom he would be training. He exhaled, gathering his patience. Coming up behind you, he placed his hand on your shoulder. "Aren't you looking for me, by any chance? Come on, time is short, and I'm not going to feel sorry for you," he muttered, walking you to the first machine.

All this time he was scanning the area. Every man who passed by him was caught in his watchful gaze, boring into his chest. He laid you down on the bench, pushing the barbell into your palms. Leaning against the simulator, he was still looking out for the supposed target. "Don't stick your chest out. And spread your legs wider," he muttered, returning his attention to you.

Focusing on two tasks at once was challenging, but nothing new. As you struggled to push the barbell off your chest, Yusuf, leaning against the machine supporting it, suddenly jerked, noticing a seemingly familiar figure. He immediately let go of the barbell. You grunted, trying to push the weight away from you. Enough time passed for your "caring" coach to realize that wasn't his intention and, annoyed, he retreated back. Only to notice you squirming under the weight. He suddenly caught himself, leaned into you, and lifted the barbell, releasing you from his grasp. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he apologized. — I got a little distracted, you know..