FOUND IN YOU

CHAPTER TWO

ERIS

A week has passed and I am now ready for the biggest gamble in my life. I would either get out dead or alive. And for that reason, my closest friend was here, asking me to change my mind. "Are you sure about this?" she asks for the umpteenth time, and I nod yet again, for the umpteenth time. "I'll be good, I have mastered all the exits," I grin in her direction, but she is unsure, as much as I am. Andrea is the closest thing I have to a sister, in a family of eight boys, my sister and I are the only girls. And Andrea is the daughter of a friend of my father's, we met when we were younger, and have been attached to the hip immediately. I may be confident, but not very confident. You'd never know what you're walking into in these cases, which is precisely what I was going to do. I have the house plan, mastered it, like the back of my hand, and learned his routine, but if something goes wrong, am I ready for it? Maybe, maybe not. I was willingly walking into a lion's den, chances of me, walking out, are pretty slim, but I am willing to bet on it.

I pull her in a hug, ignoring her tiny sniffles, there was no time to cry. Pulling away, I look into her glassy eyes, "hey, everything will be fine? I'll be back, I promise. But in case shit goes sideways and you don't hear from me in four days, I need you to find Dario." My brother would know what to do, he'd probably curse me to the ground, but he will come through for me. He is level-headed, considering he is the one running the organization, now that father is sick and spends most of his time in his bed. The others would flip and do unthinkable things without planning and probably get killed in the process. Andrea throws herself on me once again, and I let her, wrapping my arms around her, knowing it would probably be the last time.

I take my backpack, throw it over my shoulder and jog down the stairs, before I finally pull the door open, I pull the hood over my hair, securing the pin in my wig under it. I take a deep breath, my cheeks puffing up, and blow it out. I open the door and head right, then take the first alley and go left, jogging down the street, and grabbed a taxi. I instruct the driver to leave me a few blocks away and jog the rest of the way till I am on the lane, his house stands tall. He, Deathrow, is his nickname in the streets, for being a ruthless businessman who has killed so many businesses in his wake, while for others it's his name for his merciless nature to those who cross him, and they end up dead in one way or another.

Nevertheless, I was going in. I sit by the window of the unoccupied house, that overlooked his, so I wouldn't go as far as calling what I was doing the breaking and entering, not that I care. I look down at my watch, he is yet to drive in right about- now. I look up and there he is speeding down the empty street to his residence, his very expensive car stopping at the gate until the gate slides open and the wheels then roll inside the compound. At this point, I fish for my phone and open the camera app, all windows on the screen following his movement.

I had installed the cameras in his apartment one night in the past week when I knew he was away on business in a different state. His large form graciously from the vehicle, his wide back facing the camera, and with sure movement, he walked to the door. I switch to the slide, and watch him go through his routine, he takes off his shoes at the door and starts taking off his coat, he has a sling on him, he takes it off too and places it on the seat together with his coat and goes straight for the liquor cabinet. My throat works when he does, and I subconsciously slap myself. I am most definitely NOT drooling over this man. He walks towards the window facing the front of the house, and looks out, at me, or rather in my direction, I quickly look up from my phone and my eyes meet his, and my heart almost drops, even though I know he can not see me, and that its dark inside the room and the windows are tinted, the feeling did not go away. He takes one more gulp from his glass and closes the blinds.

I breathe out and look back down, following his movement, he goes into his office and I curse, that is the only room I was not able to bug not put the tiny cameras in. He gets out sooner than I expected, with his laptop in his hand and his phone to his ear. He gets into his bedroom, goes by the sitting area, and turns on the laptop. I feel like a creep, watching him working on his laptop, with his hair sleeked back, he looks like a real-life General Kirigan, with his hair swept back like it was at the moment and his full beard, which he was scratching on, but with glasses on. It takes him about an hour and he switches off the device and stands, in fluid motion, he puts his hand on the neck of his shirt and pulls it over his head. Not going to lie, for some reason unknown to me, I clenched my thighs together. Focus, Eris! He then goes into the bathroom, where I definitely had no cameras in. As hot as he is, I have no interest in seeing his junk.

Minutes later, he walks back in and I almost spurt out the water in my mouth. A reaction I've had every time I see his naked body, now is the third time. I want to look away, but my eyes are glued to him. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, and another on his head, his hands working on the one on his head moving back and forth, drying his hair. He pulls it off and shakes his head side to side. Then he goes to his walk-in closet, walks back out a minute later in a pair of pamaja bottoms, and gets in bed. "Sleep already!" I mutter, watching him sitting, scrolling through his phone rather than laying down and sleeping. Eventually, he switches off the lights and slides down in the covers, I give it thirty minutes before I sneak back out of the unoccupied house, and make my way to the left side of his residence, I ran my eyes on the surrounding.

I had one shot at this, one shot to get into his place so the motion sensors are not alerted. My stomach tightens inside me and I have the urge to throw up. I push it down, there was no room for second-guessing, it was either I do this or I leave. I do the math in my head, calculating the steps I should take on the adjacent walls to reach the top. I've practiced parkour wall climbing for months, my brothers would always make fun of me, and they'd definitely have my head if i failed and got caught, then laugh about it later. I take my phone and look at the screen, making sure he was asleep, and he was.

I take a deep breath and calm my racing mind, determined, I make a run for it, with light footsteps I sprint to the wall stepping on the one on the left, then right, then left again and right, and reach my hands up, holding on the top. My heart beats fast, from the quick sprint and anxiety. I pull myself up and sit on the fence for a second to catch my breath then swiftly jump down and make a run for it to the wall of the house, I close my eyes and wait for the motion sensors to go off but they don't. I give myself a pat on the back and get the move on. For this one, going through the door would be stupid, considering all the security I had to get through the last time. So I go for it again. Fast, I made my calculations and just went for it.

I take two steps back and sprinted to the wall, grabbed the protruding bricks and used them to pull myself up, and twisted my body to enable me to hold onto the rails and I use them to pull myself up. Grabbing the top of the rail, I put a light step on the stable ground and one leg then the other, I climb over the rail to the balcony. I pull my gun from the band on my pants and slowly open the balcony door, thanking the heavens it does not make a sound.

My hand is up, pointing the gun forward, and slowly, with light, quiet steps, I walk into the room. I aim for the part that would be his leg and shoot twice, hearing no sound from my victim. my heart drops. Still, I tell myself, maybe my aim was off. But deep down, I know something is wrong. I make my way to the foot of the bed and pull the covers. A fucking mannequin looks at me, seemingly laughing at my foolishness.

"Hello, love."

My heart drops to my feet.