Untouchable [Kylo Ren Mafia AU]

Lion's Den

TW: Abuse

My second Uber driver was allowed to take me to New York. As we neared the city, I found the one number I had been hoping for after searching the internet for over two hours.

I hear the line click but it is silent as if waiting. "Is this Hux?" I ask quietly to avoid the driver's prying ears.

A woman responds, "May I ask who's calling?"

I hesitate but answer, "This is Angel. I need to speak with him."

She hums and says, "One moment."

After a few minutes, Hux answers, "Angel! What a delicious treat!"

I ignore his taunting tone and ask, "What is Enzo's address?"

The line goes silent before he chuckles, "Are you mad, girl?"

His question worries me but I press, "I need his New York address, now."

Hux clicks his tongue, "I would be a dead man giving you his address. Practically delivering the property of Solo to Enzo."

"Solo won't do anything to you," I pause, "I promise. I won't tell him I got it from you."

"What's in it for me?" Hux sounds too blasé while discussing my life.

I think for a moment, not having anything to offer him, "Enzo will appreciate you are practically dropping me off at his doorstep. I say that will get you in his good graces, offering more business opportunities. Besides that? I am not offering anything."

Hux sighs, "Solo and his knights taught you well. Such a shame."

I refuse to acknowledge his dreary tone, only waiting for what I asked for. His line is silent for a few moments and then I hear clicking as if he is on a computer.

He clicks his tongue before reading off, "111 W 57th Street, Penthouse 72, New York."

I quickly jot it down and hand the piece of paper up to the driver. He punches it into his gps and turns right, heading east.

I hang up the phone without thanking him and erase the call and search history, handing the phone back to the driver, "Thanks."

We drive for another half hour before he parks in front of a tall white building with architecture that would give the ancient Greeks a run for their money. I step out of the car with my backpack and stare at the front door that is flanked by two large security guards.

They watch me as I approach them with caution, "Is Enzo here?"

They look at each other before the one on the left answers, "Who is asking?" The man is freakishly large, bald, and quite frightening.

I clear my throat and try to say in confidence, "My name is Angel. I was promised to him."

They nod and the one on the right speaks lowly into his ear piece. They eye me as I stand, forcing my knees to stop shaking. The street is pretty busy with traffic and walkers and joggers and business people. They walk around me as I await the security men to let me in.

The security guard steps back and opens the door, "Enzo will be with you shortly. Please wait for him on the 9th floor."

I step past them, entering the lion's den. The walls are cream, accented with black, grey, and gold. It smells lovely, like rainfall and flowers. The condo is marvelous. I stare at every piece of exotic furniture. The only thing normal would be his grand piano in the ginormous foyer. Large pots with trees line the walls. The ceiling looks carved and painted by Michelangelo himself. It looks untouched, unlived in. I keep my hands to myself as I cross the room, heading to the gold elevators in the back. The elevator is large enough to fit over fifty people, easily. I press the ninth floor, not daring to disobey him. The doors open, revealing steps that lead down into the large open living space. It is bright white, windows floor to ceiling inviting any light possible. The furniture is white, tile is white, accents and décor is again, white. The only contrast is the dark green plants growing up the walls. I laugh to myself, noting how welcoming his home feels. It's a trap.