Arranged and deranged

♤chapter 1♤

Dress to impress her father said. How do you impress when you don't know the audience and why should she?

She knew what her father does for a living, but she still looks up to him like he was a hero and love him till the end of her life.

Looking at her he said, "Be good Zenevieva".
To her he almost look saddened to say that as if it was the last time he would see her again. He had told her earlier he wanted to bring her along for the meeting so she would know what to do when she sakes over the business. Even if she didn't want to she had to, seeing she was her fathers only heir.

Not long after they walked into a building that seemed to be abounded. There was no doors, no windows and there are very few walls that was still hole. Feeling like something was not ight Zenevieva wanted to go home, but her father wouldn't allow it.

Infront of them there was a big oak doors, that looked way out of place with the building it's in. It looked like it belonged in a 5 star hotel not a abounded horror filled building.

Walking into the room silently wondering whether or not she should turn around and go home or stay to find out what was going to happen.
Putting on her big girl pants she enters the room with her father. Zenevieva saw four men in suits that seemed to be guard dogs with guns in hand while looking around. A big circular table was placed in the middle of the room with four Greek gods sitting there patiently.

Zenevieva knew that they where everything but patient, if anything it looked like they would kill her and her father at any moment. All of them had this dark and menacing look in their eyes.
Zenevieva wondered what her father had done to deserve this tipe of treatment from them. The mens' gaze never left her father and not once have they spared her a glance.

Two chairs were perfectly placed on the near end where they stood. Pulling out the chair Zenevieva sat pulling herself together almost like she wanted to make herself smaller from the Greek gods sight. One seemed to catch her movement and moved his gaze from where it originally was to her.

When Zenevieva and the unknown stranger made eye contact it was like an old cliché as they would say. The two continued staring which soon turned into a staring contest. Both soon had tears in their eyes and just when Zenevieva was about to wipe her sore eyes the man blinked rapidly which almost caused her to yell out in joy.

She composed herself as she remembered where she was and quickly wiped away the tears that nearly escaped her eyes.
Feeling her fathers gaze on her she pulled her hands away from her eyes and turned her gaze to the portraiton the wall.She could still feel her fathers eyes on her and slowly she felt more stares burning into her head.

She continued staringat the portraitof two people, one a women and the other a small girl. The portrait conserved of many beautiful oak trees and flowers that littered along the grond with long dry grass.Both, women and girl, held flowers in their arms and looked down the river like they were waiting for something to happen. It reminded her of the time she and her mother waited by the lake for the sunset.

" Are you okay?", her father asked softly. "Yes, thank you father I just think I'm a bit under the weather", she replied quietly to her father. Assuring him that she was okay and to hide the fact that she was staring at a man only a few moments ago.

The man seem to catch on to what she was doing while trying to hide the smirk that was beginning to spread across his face. He cleared his throat hoping the forget about the moment, "Glad to see you arrived safely, but I'm afraid now we have to get to business. Anything on Angel?"

So he's one of those men, just like the others. All of her fathers clients are men who just wanted to use women. She looked down sadly at that thought, she wished she could stop her father and what he was doing. Zenevieva shook her head to get rid of the horrored thoughts, she had spent countless nights where she had thought about it and now was definitely not the time.