chapter 6

A M A R A

TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDERS

"Holy shit," I gasped as I ran my fingertips over the marble countertops. "This place is amazing.."

After looking around for quite some time, I decided it would be a good idea to get my stuff out of my car.

I walked outside and asked the guard if he knew of anyone who could help me. He said that there was a maid and she would be able to. Her name was Sandra.

I went back inside and looked around for Mr. Moretti's maid. After searching for a while, I finally found the laundry room, where she was folding some white sheets.

"Hi, My name is Amara. Mr. Moretti might have told you about me?" I asked, scaring her on accident.

She jumped when I spoke. I could tell she wasn't expecting a visitor. "Yes dear he did. I'm sorry you startled me. I wasn't expecting you so soon."

We shared a laugh and she followed me out to my car. We carried all the boxes in and up to my new room. "He is asleep right now. I would be as quiet as possible. I haven't seen him sleep for days," she instructed.

+

"Sure. I'm sure he needs it," I said in understanding.

"Would you like any help unpacking?" She asked. I could tell she was tired and probably did not get much sleep of her own.

"No, that's ok. I'm just going to head to bed for now. And I wouldn't want to have you do anymore work," I assured her.

"Nonsense! That's my job. But I'll let you rest," she said as she closed the door to my room lightly.

I sighed and jumped onto the bed I would now be sleeping in until he let me out of here.

The next morning I had an excruciating headache. It was Sunday, and on Sunday's I was allowed to work from home. I got out of bed and started a shower. After throwing on a casual outfit, I headed downstairs for breakfast and some ibuprofen.

As I made my way to the first floor, my nostrils were filled with the most heavenly scent of honey and chocolate. Except, I felt like I was going to throw up. The smell of chocolate in particular did not do well with my stomach or my head.

I walked into the glorious kitchen and sat down on an island stool. "Hi Sandra," I greeted.

"Amara, dear. How did you sleep?" She asked politely.

"Amazing. The bed was great. But I was wondering if you had any painkillers? Ibuprofen maybe?"

She nodded and went to a cabinet to grab me some.

"What are you making?" I asked, curiously.

"Espresso waffles. You came down just in time." She grabbed a glass out of another cabinet and filled it with water. "Here you go dear," she said as she offered me the cup.

"Thank you." I grabbed the water and pills from her and swallowed them down.

"Would you like some food? There's plenty here," she offered

I squirmed. Eating in general was a touchy subject for me. "I'll have some of the fruit here. I'm not that hungry," I lied. My stomach was growling all night, but I wouldn't tell anyone that.

"That's ok. I'm sure Lucian will eat most of it."

I smiled at her and made a bowl of fruit. On my way back upstairs I formed a sour face. It was just fruit, and I had to remind myself that fruit wouldn't be the death of me.

When I was with Angelo, he constantly commented on my weight. His whole personality was making me feel bad about myself. I starved myself and was always in the gym for a man who truly did not care about me. He was the reason I was almost diagnosed with anorexia.

I sat down on my bed and grabbed my laptop. Working would take my mind off him. I looked over Lucian's schedule for the day and made some room for him to take a break. I understood why Sandra said he didn't get much sleep.

Scrolling through my list a little more I noticed he had a meeting in about 20 minutes. Was he even awake?

I jumped out of bed and ran to his bedroom. The socks on my feet almost caused me to slip. I knocked, but there was no answer. Just to be safe, I knocked again, but still, there was no answer.

Grabbing the handle, I pushed the door open. There he lay, half naked and asleep on his king-sized bed.

"Mr. Moretti! You have a meeting in 20 minutes. You need to get up," I whispered lightly.

He barely opened his eyes before responding, "hm?"

Christ. I pulled his blanket off of him. "Meeting. 20 minutes," I informed him, lightly hitting his shoulder. "You need to get up or you're going to be late."

+

He rubbed his eyes. Cute.

Wait. He wasn't cute. What was I thinking?

"Call him and cancel it. As a matter of fact, cancel all my meetings for today. I'll catch up tomorrow."

I stood there with my mouth agape, "Right away."

"Oh and Amara," he called out and I turned to back to face him, "grab the blanket you threw off of me and give it back."

I picked it up and laid the blanket back on his bed. "I'll get that done immediately."

Groggily, I went back to my room and shut the door. I opened my work phone and started calling every client. This was going to take a while.

Every person I spoke to was extremely aggravated. After two long hours, I finally finished informing everyone of today's events. I made up a lie and said that Mr. Moretti flew to a non-disclosed location and would not be free until further notice.

I figured that since he was sleeping, I was allowed to too. My room was cold, but the comforter was warm, and I immediately sank into the covers to fall asleep.

I woke up to the annoying ring of my phone. It was Mr. Moretti.

"This is Amara," I yawned.

"Come downstairs. We have things to do."

"I'll be down in five," I responded.

Lazily, I got out of bed and stretched out. I checked the time. Thankfully. he let me sleep for a full two hours.

My stuff was still in boxes and I shuffled through them as fast as I could. Casual was the best he was going to get today.

I almost tripped going down the stairs, but I did in fact make it in five.

Mr. Moretti was wearing a black shirt that I think he had no intention of looking hot in. His black work slacks looked like they costed more than my college tuition, but that didn't help me keep from noticing the area that was specifically tight. I gulped.

"Are you done checking me out?" He sneered.

I looked up at him. "I wasn't checking you out. That would be unprofessional."

"Mhm." He turned and walked outside. I followed him into his black Mercedes.

I opened the passenger door and sat down, buckling my seatbelt in the process. "I like your car," I complimented as I ran my hands over the black leather. "Very sleek."

He huffed out an annoyed response. It appeared that we weren't talking today.

The drive was short. When we arrived, the car pulled up to a large warehouse.

"You're not going to murder me, right? Because this definitely feels like you're going to murder me," I lightly joked.

He slowly turned his head toward me and said, "You haven't given me a reason to. Yet."

I smirked and followed him into the building.

"Miss Hale, welcome to the Viper. The mafia's meeting spot."