𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 |𝟏𝟖+ (#𝟏)

𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈-𝚃𝚆𝙾 |

22
ALESSANDRO VITALE
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Black Armani suit, Patek Phillipe watch, specially made Italian leather shoes fit my feet as I step out the door of the black range rover pulled directly in front of the Jacob K. Javits Federal Building. My cell phone slides into my slacks pocket creating a defined outline of the piece of technology as I stand waiting for Franco to round the front of the car. I fix my cufflinks and button the suit jacket and soon enough matching shoes stand next to me.

Franco was never the dressy type. He was fidgeting and I could only imagine the thoughts about him changing into his familiar jeans and one of the many sneakers he spent his time procuring from his closet. "This shit is uncomfortable. How do you do this all the time?" he asks me, itching at his collar in annoyance.

"You get used to it. Don't worry you'll be out of these and in your usual clothes within the hour." I tell him looking up at the building in front of us trying to tamper down on the smirk itching to rise on my expression. The driver leaves to find parking somewhere until we're done and Franco looks at me with a grin. "Let's go." I nod.

Step by step we walk towards the building. We enter, go through security, get patted down and soon we check in for our appointment to see Agent Callahan and his boss, Director Pritchett. The elevator ride to the twenty third floor is silent, stopping on every floor to let off and take on other people hoping to reach their destination in this building. When we enter, the air is cool, men in cheap suits walk back and forth with folders that seem important due to their pace. I stood to the side allowing Franco to talk to the receptionist that was eyeing him since we stepped foot off the elevator.

"We're here to see Agent Aiden Callahan and Director Richard Pritchett, an appointment for two twenty pm." He says in a flirty voice that wasn't needed since he didn't really need to convince her to let us through. I'm almost sure once she hears his name the smile will simply fall from her face and the thought of fucking him in the closest bathroom on the floor gone. "Your name?" she asks, batting her eyelashes, the mascara slightly runny around her eyes. "Francesco Agosti and Alessandro Vitale."

She freezes a bit and then reels back with questioning eyes. Just as I thought. I guess she knows exactly who we were. With frenzied eyes she watches us as she alternates typing whatever nonsense she was on the computer before she nods at him, standing to lead us to an office. Her voice trembles, lost of the flirty tone it had previously when she says "He'll be right with you." before she books it out of the room.

"I think she reacted that way because I said your name." Franco tells me as he takes a seat in one of the chairs by the desk. I however opt from doing so, moving to stand behind the desk and look out at the crisp windows at the ant like people moving down below on the busy streets. "You're not that innocent yourself, but think whatever you will." I tell him trying to hide my grin at the sheer fact that Franco was far worse than me in ways unimaginable. He was a fucking tyrant and enjoyed the sick game of playing with his food before he ate it.

My hands land in the pocket of my pants and I stand with my back directly to the door so I feel the eyes watching me before the scuffed squeak of the shoe against the flooring. I felt the tense shoulders and shockwaves of anger and something else I couldn't quite pinpoint. "Agent Callahan, great to put a face to a name." I sound out turning on my heels to look directly at him.

"You have some nerve showing up here." he says walking fully into the office and discarding some papers onto his desk. He opts to stand directly by Franco as opposed to sitting at his desk, so I take that as que to take my seat there. I pull at the button on my jacket and as I sit the chair squeaks a bit under my frame as I cross my ankle over my knees. "Why? It's not like we're criminals."