Until death

3- Mr. Boss Man

My eyes flutter open, again. I see that I'm strapped to a chair in a dark, cold basement. There's a litte window that's barred, and a small dim light over my head.

Lowkey kinda creepy.

Damn I thought I made friends with them and they lock me here??

There are metal cuffs around my ankles, and a rope tieing my hands together. Now what dumbass uses metal cuffs for my ankles and ropes for my wrists like bruh. I'm also strapped down to a dentist office looking ass chair.

For these billionaires they really give their hostages the worst treatment.

All of a sudden I hear the heavy metal door behind me open.

I turn my head around and see a man in his early 20's around 6'5. He has light brown hair that's slicked back and a soft bristle beard, barely noticeable. His eyes looked lifeless but I could see a spark behind them, they were grey. He was wearing an all black suit, without the blazer. You could see his muscles poking through the black shirt. His jawline was sharp, his cheekbones were very defined.

Simply, I would let him fuck me.

"Well, look what we have here." He speaks in a thick Italian accent while eyeing me up and down.

"What do you want with me?" I demand. "That's no way to talk to a mafia don." He puts his hands in his pockets, standing in front of me. He lifts my chin up so I'm looking straight at him. His eyes soften a little but go back to being lifeless right away.

I spit in his face.

He slaps me across my face. Wincing, I feel the stinging pain across my cheekbone.

"You bitch, I was going to let you come upstairs. Now you'll stay here longer." He shakes his head and leaves. "No, please!" I cry.

He locks the heavy metal door behind him.

I cry silently, until I remember the pocket knife I have.

I search my sweatpants pocket for it and finally get it out. I run it aggressively between my hands until I cut the rope and set them free.

Now my ankles..

I use all my force and try to kick my leg free. Didn't work.

I tried again.

Again.

Again.

"Let's go bitch!" I quietly shout. As I got one of my feet out.

I eventually got the other out and start trying to climb the wall to get to the window.

Doesn't work.

Suddenly I hear someone open the door.

The same man from earlier.

"What the fuck. How did you get out." He walks towards me, as I'm standing against the wall.

"I have a few tricks of my own, what's your name?" I ask. He doesn't respond. Instead he points his gun at me. "Woah chill there brother." I put my hands up. "I'm not your brother." He says.

"Well obviously." I roll my eyes. "Now who are you?" I ask. "Your a talkative little one aren't you." He puts his gun down and walks towards me. He grabs my wrist.

"Hey let me go!" I scream trying to fight him off. "guardie, portatela di sopra." (Guards, bring her upstairs.) he shouts orders.

"stupida puttana. Lasciami andare!" (You stupid bitch. Let me go!) I shout. "Where did You learn that?" He sounds surprised. "I'm half italiana idiota." I smack his head.

Soon the guards come rushing in and put the same cloth over my nose.

Here we go again.

____________________

My eyes flutter open and I'm strapped to a chair in what looks like a living room. The ceilings are probably 12. Foot high. Marble floors. Huge TV. There is a young girl sitting infront of me, probably around my age.

"Vincey she's awake now, can I go?" She seems tired of watching me. She has blonde hair, and light blue eyes. Plump lips and slim nose. Her hair falls near her lower back.

"Damn your hot." I blurt out, still sounding drugged. She chuckles. "You too." She smiles.

"So are you Sofia?" I ask. "No, she's on a mission right now. I'm Isabella, Vincenzo's sister." She says warmly.

"Who is Vincenzo?" I ask her. "My brother." She bluntly replies, but it's obvious sarcasm. She matches my energy.

I chuckle.

I see the same man who slapped me walking down the stairs. "She's all yours." Isabella says to him and leaves.

Not her leaving me alone with boss man.

"Will you behave now?" He asks, with a gun in his hand. Sitting infront of me.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." I shrug. "I don't like your attitude." He says sternly. "Did I ask?" I scoff.

He puts the gun on my chin, the tip grazing my jawline. He abruptly uses the gun to turn my chin up so I look directly in his eyes. "Behave." Was all he said.

I sat there for a couple seconds. "What's your name?" I ask again.

"Vincenzo." He replies.