Elodie Hart;
"Tasting her is like heaven. But Harlow isn't heaven. Nor is she hell; Harlow is the f*cking devil herself, with her sharp intimidation and her cruel way of things, but she tastes nothing like it. She tastes of sweetness and determinati...
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Unlike Elodie, I didn't fall straight into a slumber the second her and I got back. She told me she'd be fine getting to her room on her own, but we took the elevator together anyways, because I had places to be. She was dropped off on the third floor, knees wobbling as she got closer to her room.
By the time the elevator doors shut, I could only see the glimpse of her opening her bedroom door.
The elevator carried on to my floor further on. Before I left my car, I checked the time and it was just after midnight, and I missed the meeting I was supposed to have in the office.
I wouldn't have been late, if it wasn't for her. Fuck, when I saw her in that dress, and how she talked to me as if she could get away with it, turned me on way too fucking much.
I knew I'd slip her mind when she went out with her friends, and so I knew that when I showed up at the nightclub unexpectedly, she'd be shocked.
And god do I like to chase.
I thrived for that poor, helpless little look on her face once she saw me. And luckily for me, she'd fallen right into my trap. I would say she was rather lucky herself after that.
She looked so vulnerable bent over my lap and bonded to the bed, I'm sure the thought will stay in my mind for some time.
I arrive at my floor quick enough, and wipe the events of tonight out of my mind, switching to a more professional mindset. I reach the office and push open the doors, where a lot of people are still seated at their desks. They've been likely waiting on me for the most part of the night. The noise in the room deadens a little when I walk in, and a bunch of whispers replace loud, group talks.
Damiano is first to head for me. We make eye contact across the room and I walk closer to him. When I come to stand before him, he seems to looks me up and down, then clears his throat.
Before he gets to utter a single word, I raise an eyebrow at him. "Found a problem have you?" I ask. I might've fixed my hair and what I was wearing before I got into the car, but not everything was made perfect.
He intakes a breath, loosening his tie. "No. No problem." I nod at his response, resting my face and crossing my arms.
I move past Damiano, and head for Harry's desk, where a few others are huddled, checking out his monitor.
While me and Damiano walk, I notice him check his phone, before slipping it back into his pocket in a secretive manner.
"We've got updates on the whereabouts, Miss DeLaine."
Those words spike more interest into me and I let myself forget about who Damiano might be checking for, and instead make it to Harry's desk faster.
The few people hanging around it scurry off to the right, while I take Harry's left side and lean over his desk to take a look at his computer. He's got some camera footage up, with pictures of the interior of a nightclub. The photos aren't entirely clear to see, but I can make out Luciano's face from a mile away. He's standing at the bar of the nightclub, sipping on a drink while talking away to someone, who's back is turned.
