The Escort

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*Some sentences in this book are in Spanish. If you can speak it, enjoy! If you can't like me, do what I did and use google translate. Enjoy!

I woke up to a knock on my door. Mike walked into my room completly uninvited. "Big day." He muttered. Mike is not my brother. Or anyone even remotely related to me. He's my security personnel. Not that I need him. Pretty sure my ten year teaming trained me for anything you could possibly dream of. I nod, agreeing with him. He cuts me a sly grin. "Whatcha wearin?" I groaned and fell back onto my bed. "That is totally your job." I whined. He shook his head. "Nope." He laughed. "I'm a tattoo artist and a gunman, not a fashion designer." He's right. Every sixteen year old in our mafia comes to him on their birthday. The guys get Gs tattooed into their right shoulder. The girls get the same letter tattooed behind their ear. Today, I also will get my mandatory ID tattoo. Except mines a little different, in addition to the one behind my ear, I have to get a crown tattooed onto my right shoulder. Because today, I will be crowned princess of the Gahdi mafia. If you haven't guessed yet, my father is the boss. Another thought shoots through my head. I don't even have my escort for tonight. So I picked up my phone and called the biggest flirt I know. Adrian Blancaje. His father is second in command to mine, and they are also best friends. This night will do two things for us. Boost each others reputation, and keep up the public show of Adrian and I. Which ended a while ago. He answers with a scoff. "Que es lo que quieres die mi princesa?" I rolled my eyes. "Who said I wanted anything from you at all?" I'm mixed. Hispanic and white, so I'm used to Spanish English exchanges. You can practically hear him smirking, "Please, you never call me, you must want something." I pressed my fist to my forehead. Always being difficult about everything. "Dios mio. Just shut up and listen." He hummed in response. "I need an escort." I breathed. "Nope. That all you want?" He answered. Did I mention we hate each other? "Escuchar estúpido. Our fathers would love it. The public would love it. It would be good rep for the both of us." He snorted. "And why do I need more rep than I already have?" And that is where I lost my cool. I slammed my fist down onto my table, and spoke in a cool, quiet voice. "Listen Blancaje. I'm doing you a favor. You can take it or leave it. But if I were you I'd watch my mouth because I will always have more power than you could ever imagine." That was not a power threat. We both knew that. It was a life threat. "Fine. I'll do it." This is how it's been for the past year. My hand brushed a photo on my dresser. It wasn't always like this. This picture was taken March 1st, 2014. The last time I was truly happy. Adrian was kissing my cheek, and I was laughing. The time was 3:04 pm. Exactly one hour before my sister, and Adrians brother, were killed.

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