Save Me #1

44| The favor

"I hate that we have to meet him here," I whine as we take the few steps to Franco's mansion.

"I know, and trust me, I hate it too, but he insisted on meeting us at his house," Zach retorts, rolling his eyes, and rings the doorbell. His warm hand is holding mine tightly to give me comfort. With less success. I'm damn nervous and don't even want to know what this asshole has to say.

After we returned from our trip yesterday, Zach contacted Franco to tell him I'm willing to hear him out. Franco pretended to be delighted about my cooperativeness and told Zach to meet him at his place today. I never thought I would set foot on his property again, and I must admit I already regret agreeing to this. This place radiates danger and crime and I feel extremely uneasy being here.

"Relax. I'm with you, Liv. I won't leave your side, I promise!" Zach brushes a kiss on my cheek and the next moment Franco himself opens the door.

"No butler? I'm impressed," Zach huffs and tightens his grip around my hand.

Franco ignores Zach's snidey remark and grabs my free hand to plant a kiss on it. "It's a pleasure to have you here again, my love."

A hint of his heavy perfume invades my nostrils while his cold, green eyes roam over my body. I'm glad I've picked simple skinny jeans with my boots today. Nothing sexy and nothing to ogle at.

"Hello, Francesco," I mutter and pull away my hand which I'd like to wash thoroughly after it just came in contact with his macho mouth.

"Come in!" Franco steps inside and leads us upstairs into a room which looks like an office.

He steps behind his massive mahogany desk and takes a seat in the pompous white leather chair next to it.

"Please, sit down!" He motions us to have a seat opposite of him in two identical chairs.

Zach and I do as he wishes, and I use the time he pours a whiskey for each of us to look around the room.

It's classy with mahogany paneled walls and a golden chandelier dangling from the ceiling. The exact opposite of the rest of the house we've already seen, which is modernly and mainly bright furnished.

"Where are your bodyguards, Franco?" Zach asks sneeringly.

Franco shoots him a despising glance and lightly pushes his suit jacket aside to show the silver gun peeking out of his waistband. "Zachary, I don't need a bodyguard."

I know it shouldn't surprise me at all, but I need to swallow at the sight of his weapon. Zach huffs and rolls his eyes.

"So, Olivia," Franco starts in his thick Italian accent after pushing a tumbler in front of Zach and me. "Let's get right down to business!"

He takes a sip of his drink while leering at me and then clears his throat. "It's come to my attention that you worked for one of my newest business partners, Jack."

Fuck. The cold expression on his face doesn't bode well.

"I did," I simply retort and manage to hold Franco's piercing gaze without even blinking. I won't let on my nervousness towards him. No way in hell I'm giving him the satisfaction.

"Well, you didn't tell me at our cozy little dinner," Franco remarks with narrowed eyes and leans back in his stool.

The intimidation this man is radiating, wearing his pitch-black suit paired with his half-unbuttoned dress shirt and his black slicked-back hair, nearly crushes me, but I keep my cool and shrug my shoulders.

"I didn't know this information had any importance for you." Without breaking eye contact, I take a generous sip of my whiskey.

Franco flares his nostrils. I can clearly see the anger boiling behind his piercing green eyes, and I have to admit I start enjoying our little power game a bit too much. Maybe I'm just tired of living.