Bad territory

Bad territory

The jet engines cut out and everywhere suddenly went quiet, deafening silence that made my ears rang. The door opened and the warm air swooshed in, hitting me in the face.

Welcome to New York I guess.

If someone ever told me I'd travel between three countries in less that a year, my first thought would be that maybe my hard work paid off and I became a celebrity, but unfortunately no hard work paid off, and I didn't become a celebrity.

I waited around in my seat, I knew we've arrived our destination but I wasn't given the orders to go and as much as I hate the thought of that word 'order' I needed to tread carefully as new york was my opportunity to freedom. Moretti was on his phone, his murmuring orders to the person on the other end, I could barely hear what he was saying but he sounded angry.

A few minutes later, Lissa came to take his stuff and I alighted right after him. I watched the city beyond the hanger, not to far away, little humans, movement happening on the other side of the road. A guy on the corner was yelling at his friend, laughing, I think, as the other tried to pump his bicycle tires.

A woman was trying to hail a cab, her arm stuck out like a flag. They were just people, living their lives, and heavens, I've never yearned for something this bad. I could feel it trying to scratch its way out, trying to put me on my heels running as far away as I can.

After a semi long drive we soon arrived at a penthouse. The elevator opened right into it and the first thing that hit me was the smell of lemons, oranges, some other fruit I couldn't pin point and new white paint. The floor was a dark, polished concrete and the sofas all white and big they looked like they’d never been sat on. The wall adjacent the door was m a window, showing off the city like a prize, but all I could think was how you probably couldn’t even open it, and the probability of me either falling off or being thrown out. Nicole's words suddenly flew back into my head.

Oh no he wouldn't.

No sane man will commit murder this way, literally everyone could be watching.
Moretti tossed his coat over a chair and walked straight towards a closed door with Nicholas on his heels. The door shut behind them and I was left standing there in the middle of all that empty, expensive space.

Lissa’s hand was on my elbow a second later. “This wing only,” she said and started walking, pulling me along. “You don’t touch the windows, you don’t use the phones, you don’t leave this hallway unless I’m with you. Understood?”

Before I could answer, the elevator pinged for a second and slid open immediately after as both Lissa and I turned around to see who it was. A lady majestically walked out after a few second, she was tall and thin, dressed in a black suit that accentuated her shape and looked like it had been painted on, and her hair was pulled back so tight it stretched the skin around her eyes. She looked at me for a few moment with disgust drawn all over he face like I was a stain on her perfect floor.

“Dante didn’t mention he was bringing a guest,” she turned to Lissa whose expression has morphed into that of a reporter. Her grip on my arm tightened. “Cassandra. This is Evadne. She’s with the Don.”

“Of course I know she's with the Don.” The woman let her eyes drag over me from my messy hair down to my scuffed shoes. “Evadne,” she repeated, and my name sounded like an insult in her mouth. She gave Lissa a look. “His taste remains as… singular as ever, what about his fiance? The one that acts like a three year old.”

“She's well.” Lissa answered curtly.

She scoffed. “The way he picks his women seriously needs to be studied.”

Lissa rolled her eyes. “Where's Marcus? He's supposed to be here before we arrive.” She asked.

Who's Marcus?

“He'll be here any second.”

Just then, the elevator pinged again and slid open, revealing a man as he stepped out. He was big, like he's been living in a gym, and his black shirt was stretched tight across his chest. He had one of those earpieces in and a smirk that said he thought he was god’s gift.

I'm going to hate him. I just know that.

“Lissa,” he said, but his eyes were locked on me. They moved over me slowly, like he was pricing me out. “This the new assignment?”

“Her name is Evadne,” Lissa said, and I could hear the annoyance in her voice. She was already looking past him, like this was a chore. At least we both feel the same way about one thing. “She’s one of the Don’s. Marcus, you’re head of security here. Your job is to keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t get into trouble or leave the building unless when told otherwise.”

“Roger that.”

She turned and stared at me for a couple seconds and let go of my arm after, before walking away leaving me standing there with him and Cassandra

Marcus’s smirk widened. “Don’t you worry,” he said so smoothly I'm afraid he meant for it to sound like that. “I’ll keep a real close eye on you.”

Cassandra watched it all happen, her face blank. She picked up a tablet from the sofa. “I’ll be in the study when Dante is ready,” she said to no one in particular, and then she walked away without a sound, leaving me alone with him.

He moved closer, occupying the space between us, I took a step back. Though I could still smell his cheap cologne, it was better that hitting chest with him. “So,” he drawled, looking down at me. “You’re Dante’s special little doll, huh? Flown all the way from Italy.” He reached out before I could move and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, his finger dragging down my jaw. “Pretty thing. Must get real lonely for you, stuck in a place like this.”

I slapped his hand away, my whole body going tight. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

I would bite all five fingers off without grimacing if he tried that again.

He just chuckled, overly sure of himself, like my anger was a cute little game.

Truly, I wonder how Moretti's brain works to have weird and disgusting people around him.

He leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear. “You’re in my city now, sweetheart. Things work different here, and the Don’s a busy man.” He pulled back, his eyes doing that slow crawl over me again. “You’re gonna get real bored all by yourself. And when you do…” He winked. “You know where to find me.”

First of all, I certainly do not know where to find, but if course I'm not telling him that, I won't find him even if I do know.

Secondly, he's disgusting.

He turned and walked off into the room Cassandra went in, whistling some stupid tune. I stood there in the middle of the silent, cold penthouse, my heart hammering against my ribs and the spot on my jaw where he’d touched me feeling like it was burning.

I'm starting to hate New York.