By Wen Xinqi
Sunday / October 27th / 1:04 AM
I sit, my legs crossed and my hands flexed and joined together. Like if I make any sudden moves he’ll think I’m making a break for it and go for my jugular.
I try to calm myself down and not look like I’m freaking out.
“Whats wrong, bella?” He asks, laying on a thick Italian pronunciation on the end. “Why so stiff?”
His eyes freak me out. Like freakish alien blue eyes that give away the monster in a horror film.
Who is this guy, and why did he bring me here?
“Would you like something to drink?” He asks, and snaps a finger ushering some kid over, ready to pour me something.
“I don’t drink.” I manage to get out. I don’t want to give them an opportunity to spike something.
He nods and puts a hand up and the kid disappears. He relaxes against the couch and a group of girls desperately tries to get his attention. He ignores them completely, and when he catches my eyes, he smiles with a kindness behind it.
I don’t understand what’s happening. This kid ambushes me when I walk out of the mall, forces me into his huge, black SUV, takes my phone and uses it to lie to my parents and gets a full makeover and wardrobe team on me as soon as we arrive at this house.
He hasn’t touched me, or threatened me, but there’s a terrible feeling in my stomach.
He senses my fear and slides over toward me on the couch, enraging the group of girls that he continues to ignore.
I stiffen up again like he’s going to do something. Instead, I feel a warm hand atop mine.
“Relax, bella.” He gives me a genuine look and his eyes flit between mine. “No one is going to hurt you.”
His words relieve me, somehow. “Then why am I here?” I ask. The dress he gave me to wear is tight and uncomfortable, unlike the rest of my wardrobe. I try to pull it down as I turn to face him.
He breaks eye contact and looks defeated for a second.
“I like to think your presence stands as…” He trails off. “…a show of force.” He says, his eyes shifting between mine again. My eyes look for a meaning in his words, but I find nothing. He looks over my face again sincerely like he’s laying his cards on the table.
“It’s just too bad it’s a role far too inferior for it’s actress.” He says, putting his closed hand under my chin and his thumb just under my bottom lip. “I hope to see you again, va bene?”
Suddenly, he removes his hand and the kindness in his face warps into malice as he looks at something far past my field of view. I feel a hand on the inside of my bicep that instantly tugs me away.
I look back in shock to see that it’s Adrian, who’s face is now red in anger. He pulls me to my feet and pushes me behind him like my kidnapper is about to lunge at me, full force.
The guy on the couch stands up, pulls my phone out of his pocket, tosses it to me, and pours himself a glass of whiskey with a wink.
“Ciao, bella.” He says, changing his gaze from me to Adrian, and giving me the answer to his identity.
“Oh, and Cassidy, get back to work.”
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