Adrianna

“Adrianna, sit. Carrie, you can go,” Mr. Gold demanded as he stood. He didn’t try to stall what was about to happen next. I looked around his ice-cold office, thinking maybe HR would pop up from somewhere, anywhere. But they didn’t. For now, we were alone as the sliding doors closed. Carrie left with a big smile on her face; no doubt she would reward him for getting rid of me.

“Adrianna, I’m not going to beat around the bush. You know why you’re here?” he said as he slowly moved towards me, pointing at the sofa as if to tell me to sit.

He didn’t come next to me straight away, but pressed a button and then out of the wall, a bar magically appeared. Had he watched some video on minimalism? Then decided the only way to have an office as cold as possible, was to make everything was in it appear from nowhere. Hidden, so no one could know what was truly in the office. I started to wonder if the sofa was hidden, and he pressed a button to make it appear. My mind wandered as I looked around, trying to find any other hidden buttons. I only did this type of thing when I was nervous; I would start looking for something, anything to focus on rather than the matter at hand.

He handed me a glass, no doubt it was Hennessy Paradis Imperial, apparently his favorite drink. I’d heard some of the guys say it cost more than some of us make in a week. What’s the point of such luxuries? Once a drink goes down, you’ll end up pissing it out. It’s not like you could savor it. Not like a good meal; then again, this must be the joys of being rich, I suppose. Something I’ve never had and a life I don’t think I’ll ever get accustomed to living.

I grabbed it with both hands as I uncomfortably sat at the end of the sofa.

“You can move down the sofa, I’m not going to bite.”

I looked up at his dark eyes, as he never made an appearance downstairs. He’d lost a lot of weight, not a pound or two; but stones. Loads of it. I wondered if he had been sick, and this was his road to recovery. He looked completely different, not the middle-aged man, but an athletic man with a few lines and crop type blond hairs with a square jawline. What a difference weight-loss can make to a person, he appeared to be someone completely different.

I didn’t say anything, as my eyes deliberated about the very expensive Hennessy Paradis which was in my hand; I smelled it discretely, and then took a sip. There was no sharp taste; if anything, it was warm and pleasant.

He sat down next to me, a little too close, and asked, “What do you think?”

I summed it up in one word, “Nice.”

He smiled, jerked his head back, and emptied his once quarter-filled shot glass. I did the same, but it made me cough. As I regained my composure, he said nothing as he smiled. A smile I didn’t like and didn’t expect from him. A smile which made my heart beat as he drew closer to me, like a moth to a flame.

“Do you want some more?” I nodded. His breath was so close, I could no longer smell the cognac I’d downed, but everything he’d eaten today.

“You know what today’s about? You cost the company money and there’s a price for it.”

He magically took the cup out of my hand, and then he placed it to my side, and moved even closer. I moved away from him; I knew if he moved any closer he’d be sitting on my damn knee.

But he followed suit until there wasn’t any couch left, and I knew there was only one thing to do.

Leave.

I was about to, when he put his hand on my knee and growled, “I could make all of this go away. If you agree to some new terms.”

I was tempted, the old Mr. Gold, hell no. But the new one was sexy as hell. I hadn’t paid the insurance on my car and rent was getting more expensive. His hands were moving up my thighs, his lips were getting closer, and I hadn’t even heard the terms yet.

“Mr. Gold, I’m not that type of girl.”

I hadn’t been raised like that. This kind of thing was okay with some girls like Carrie, but not with me.

He laughed. “Everyone has their price, and you need this job. You need a new car, rent, and I don’t even need to tell you all the other reasons you need to do this.”

He’d struck a chord. He’d done his homework and decided I would be at his beck and call.

“I’m not desperate,” I snapped as I moved away from him. I had to get to the sliding doors, figure out where the button was, and get the fuck out of here. I searched for the room like a madwoman, trying to walk quickly and get as far away from Mr. Gold as possible.

“Stop playing hard to get, it’s boring. You know leaving here means no one will hire you. No one. They send your debt to the collection, and before you know it, you’ll be living on the streets,” he said as he faked a yawn.

I shot a glance at him, seeing he was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, and I hated him even more for summing my fate up in one sentence. With it ending with me needing to suck his cock or some other sexual act to stop it happening the way he was describing.

“You need this job. You know it and I know it. The question is, are you willing to do what it takes to keep it?”

I didn’t hesitate as I blurted out, “No. Fuck you and your precious job. I’ll get another one.”

Great, I figured out where the door was, and no one and nothing was going to stop me from going through with it. I strode to it with all the confidence and I started to walk through it.

He shouted, “You’ll be back.”

I shook my head saying, “No. I fucking won’t.”

As I went through the door, nerves started to take over me, but I didn’t care, I just kept walking.

I ignored HR and Carrie as they called out to me after I passed her office.

“Adrianna, I am calling you. Stop walking away from me!” Carrie screamed out, and I realized I wasn’t scared about walking on glass anymore. Somehow, it’d become the least of my problems. I needed to get out of this fucking building and as far away from him as possible.

I turned around to face her.

“What?”

She looked bemused as she ran a couple more steps to get next to me.

“Why are you leaving? Didn’t he offer you a way out?”

Shit, she knew!

“What is wrong with you? You know how he operates and you stay by him.”

She shook her head, “His wife stands by him. I get what I can. This is the real world, honey!”

I chuckled. “Not my world.”

She snarled, reducing the distance between us, “Well, let’s see how far you get sitting on your high horse. You seen Linda lately? She left here, still can’t get a job. She’s back home with her family in Minnesota. Don’t be naïve; this is a man’s game. You need to play their game and then when you’re ready, leave. Don’t let them have the upper hand, you have it all the time.”

“I’m not giving away my body to keep a job.”

She backed away from me and said, “Well, it doesn’t look as if you think much about your body, so I don’t get why you’re scared about it.”

I slapped her, without hesitation, and the shock of it all was written all over her face as she grabbed her face as if it was a precious stone. I didn’t wait around for her to hit back. I kept on walking, and as if on cue, the elevator doors opened and I stepped in. I didn’t have to press the floor, it did it automatically. I would have to call Jen to meet me downstairs with my purse and phone. I had left them at my desk. The elevator took me to the ground floor, then I heard his voice over the speaker.

“You don’t have to worry about getting your things. They’re downstairs in the parking garage. You have two days to think about my offer, or it’ll no longer be on the table.”

I stuck two fingers up in the air, knowing somewhere in here, there was a camera. I felt dirty and cheap, not only by his offer but Carrie’s assessment of my body. They made me feel as if I was nobody, as if I would do whatever and anything to stay in my position. As if I was desperate.

I didn’t have to stay in this town. I knew somewhere there would be someone who would make a difference in my life. It wasn’t all bleak; I wasn’t going to let it get to me. I’d worked two jobs to get through college, worked my butt off once I finished trying to pay these damn student loans, and I wasn’t going to let this job make me feel I was worth nothing.

No fucking way. Chapter Eight

“Boss, you taking your car?” Juan asked as he put his thick fingers on the door handle. His questions were always direct, to the point, emotionless. Sometimes, I wondered if boxing had made him that way or something else.

“Yeah,” I sighed, scratching my head. Normally, I would have him drive, sit at the back and cool down before facing my enemy. Today I needed to drive to clear my mind a little before my next encounter. He looked uncertain and I continued. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be alright.”

He hesitated and then his stutter appeared out of nowhere, which had started in his boxing days.

“O… okay!”

One doctor said he was hit in the head so fucking hard everything would be rusty for the next couple of years. Five years ago, he wanted the championship like his uncle, and had the physique for it. He towered over me at six foot five with his dark eyes and bald head, and had a way of scaring everyone who came into contact with him. I considered him to be a gentle giant deep down. Back then, he hated the mob life, he wanted nothing to do with it. Somehow kicking someone’s ass in the ring and getting paid for it, with thousands of people cheering you, was more acceptable. I never understood the logic when it came to being part of the mob. Then again, it was all about tradition and loyalty. He didn’t want to be part of it, but after being told he couldn’t perform anymore, he ended up in it, anyway.

Nothing else.

“You looked pretty messed up in there. You sure you’re all right?”

I was about to nod and lie when I realized there was no point in lying. We didn’t talk much, not the kind of way two brothers or even cousins talked about their lives. Those types of conversations were wasted energy. He could tell by my body language exactly how I was feeling; he just wanted confirmation.

“I miss him, and I feel useless about not finding out who took him away from me.”

He sighed, “We all missed him. But you know you need some rest. Trying to catch the killer is tiring you out, jefe.”

This hit had nothing to do with someone treading on our toes, but it had revenge written all over it. No one was talking because we were looking in all the wrong places. I remember asking Pa after he wiped out the family which killed Mom, if it made him feel better. His answer was clear. “No. It won’t bring her back.”

Finding out the truth wasn’t going to bring Pa back but it would make me feel a lot better. The smug look on the detective’s face when he showed up at the scene, made me feel sick. Pa was in bed, but underneath the covers, he’d been butchered. The coroner said he’d been alive for the best part of it.

Someone had wanted to torture Pa, and I pondered as I put the key in to start the car, if it was one of the many broken hearts he’d created over the years. Pa wasn’t good at relationships, especially after Ma. Juan begged me at one point to tell him to hire a girl. Have her and make her fulfill his every need, I talked to Pa about it, he wouldn’t have it. In some fucked up way, he wanted them to suffer the pain he had due to Ma not being around, and I wondered if one of them had decided to do the same to him. They wanted to teach him the meaning of pain. I nodded to Juan as I spun the car out of the car park. I didn’t know if he could see me, but I hated my thoughts even nearly as much as I hated everyone right now.