The Rules to Redemption

Chapter 5: Appearances

Who's your favourite Disney Princess?

Mine is Mulan.
Literal definition is of a bad bitch.

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Silence invaded the car journey. Me being the awkward person I am, I shuffled to one side of the car whilst Damien minded his business on the other. We paid no mind to each other and rightfully so. Business is business, even if your client breaks into your fucking house.

I would have taken public transport to avoid being confined in a car with him but have you seen the New York Subways?
I think I'll pass.

It wasn't a surprise that he drove a Mercedes-Maybach Exelero, his choice of clothing being a suit pretty much summed his wealth up.
And his ego.

I honestly didn't expect to be seeing him again so soon and from our first impression, I didn't care to see him at all yet now I'm in a car, unprotected...with a psychopath.
Must I say, life is full of surprises.
It was evident that he wasn't too fond of my presence either. It was clear that he didn't like me so there had to be a reason he 'saved my job'. He doesn't look like the generous person to do that for nothing, there had to be a catch. There's always a catch.
"What's your deal?" I question adamant to get to the bottom of this.
"My deal?" He mocks me.
"Yes Luigi, your deal." I roll my eyes.
"Why am I your lawyer? I have no experience and you can clearly afford the best."

He pauses for a moment, "The best isn't always good enough."
"You don't seem like the person to back down at all, your irritating mouth is good for something." He enlightens me.

"How about I use that irritating mouth against you, in court." I smile true to my words.
"You wouldn't do that." He chuckles so certain.
"And why is that?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

"Because I will kill you." His eyes shift into a darkness when he says those words and I knew he meant it.

I gulp in fear, perhaps now would be a good moment to shut my untamed trap before I end up on a milk carton like a missing child.

We sit in solitary for a while longer, the drive had already been dragging out and I had the feeling that it would be even longer.
Next time, we can work at Sierra's coffee shop, at least then I'll have my crackhead friend to save me.
"You're Italian?" He breaks the profound silence.

"Half." I bluntly reply trying to avoid conversation with him.

"What's the other half?" He further questions.

Bad bitch.

"French." I mutter, satisfying his curiosity.
"Where did you get the last name Asriel from?" He almost mocks me getting too comfortable with his mouth, tone and well just too comfortable with himself.
What I want to know is how Mr psycho Cortez knows my last name.
"It's not my real one." My statements are blunt and dismissive.
All these questions. I didn't care that he knew it wasn't real, he looks as though he had enough secrets of his own to hide let alone ponder over mine.
"What is your real last name?" He demands.
"Why do you even care?" I question intrigued.

"Because I like to know who I'm working with and if you're hiding things from me then we are going to have issues." He enlightens me.

It looks as if you already have issues Fettuccine.

"Well, it's not really your business." I tell him.
"You do realise I can find out? I was just doing the nice thing of asking you first." He chuckles suspiciously.
The word 'nice' is in his vocabulary?
Pulling out his phone as we came to a red light, he diverts most of his attention to the screen.
After momentarily typing and scrolling he smirks putting it down.
"Sylveste." He mentions more to himself.
Mother fucker!
"How the FUCK did you just-?" I rage suddenly confused.