Tessa~
"Good morning, Mr. Addison." I greet my coworker once I step out of the elevator. He glance over his shoulder, pausing his attempts for the next elevator. "Tessa," he says before walking over to me. "Good to see you," he hands me a coffee from the company's kitchen. "Black, just like how you used to like it." He winks.
"You won't let that go, will you." I smile and sip the coffee. "Old things are hard to let go." He winks. Although Addison and I are not a thing anymore, he's still flirting but I'm very quick to turn down every attempts. It's still weird seeing him at the same job and with the same career he thought would never get me nowhere. It still irks me but as I remembered, Addison always seems to forget whenever I measured it.
Anyway, enough with Addison. I work as a translator. Which means my job requires me to translate language for any kind to English or if they doesn't understand something in English and I help to translate for them in their language. "How's your leg doing?" I ask Lindsay once Addison and I parted. "Not bad not good either." She shrugs, stacking a file and pinning them. "It's going to be better," I assure her as I stand next to her desk.
"It's bad, Tessa. I think they might amputate the left leg." She says, her eyes lightening with tears. "I wish the situation would just go away like you reassured things." She says with a smile. "It will," I pat her hand. "Ms. Tessa." I hear a knock on the door. I turn to see Jake, the down floor manager. "Mr. Reid would like to see you."
"Mr. Reid?" I knock on the opened door. He nods and I enter, closing the door behind me. "Sit, Tessa." He nods to the couch. "You've got a new client," he says, taking the glasses off his eyes. I pick the brown file off the table and open it. "Is this an old client?" I ask, remembering a client that wanted me to be more than an employee to him. "No," Mr. Reid says, rounding his desk, before sitting next to me on the couch.
"He's a new client from Italy." I furrow my brows and skim through the file. "Consider it, Tessa. The pay is huge." He says. "Plus, you're a great worker and get things done." I sigh and nod before standing to my feet and heading out along with the file. Once I reach my office, I close the door and sit behind my desk. "August D'Amato," I whisper as I search the name.
Every time I put in the name in a different tab despite the fast paced internet, it stills says website not available. I lean back in my chair and sigh, feeling defeated. All my clients I've worked with has always have a clue to their title. But with this client, it's like finding a needle in a haystack. "Private translator," I read the bold letters on the page. "We'll see how you play out." With that, I close my eyes.
August~
I pivot my head to the left and right of the room, irritations of whatever filling my mind. On the left of the room is my right hand man, Simba, who's showing images on the projector. The men in the room all starts to argues as to where the next attack should be. I turn to my left and see Ricardo approaching me. He leans down to my ear and whispers. The moment he end his sentences I'm full blown annoyed.
"Let him in," I say.
The door opens, revealing a skinny tanned man with a jet black hair. "Vincent," I mumble under my breath as he near in the room. I nod to some of my men, alerting them to guard the door and while some stays in the room. I stand to my feet, offering Vincent a welcoming hand as I do my best not to break from the fake smile I'm wearing.
"Vincent," I pull him into a side hug before patting his shoulder. Vincent might not know, but if there's one thing I'm not stupid about is someone being fake. My English might not be perfect but I can read a fake from far. "August," he says with a laugh. He looks around the room and turn to me. Mistake one is nervousness. Someone who's part of a gang would never be afraid of what lays around.
"Piccolo bastardo, perché hai rifiutato la mia vendita?" ( You little bastard, why did you refused my sale) I inquire as I place my hand on Vincent's should I plant a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to a seat. "I don't do Italian," he chuckles and sit down. I chuckle and hand him a bourbon. He quickly reaches for the cigarette in the tray and light it up. I study Vincent for a while and look at his clothes. "This is why I told you to make used of the language here and you refused." He says, mocking the Italians hands.
"I'll practice my English later, now answer my question." I shift in my seat, giving him my full attention. "They were quite outdated, the US has the best ones." He shrugs before looking to the projector. "401 is a nice base." He points to the projector. I clench my jaw, already annoyed with the two faced man. Vincent might not know, but he playing as an undercover cop do nothing to hide his identity.
"Is that so?" I ask, standing to my feet. I nod to Simba and he off the projector. "Yes," Vincent chuckles nervously once he starts to read the room. Second mistake. Criminals don't care about the quality of their weapons as long it kills their target. I reach into my pocket and touch the cold gun. I smirk and look to the door and my men take their stands. "Interesting," I nod. I kick his legs apart and stand between them. I pull the weapon out and fake aim at his head.
"Vincent," I say. "Vincent," I say again with a chuckle. I raise the gun to his head and drag it from his forehead down to his chest and smirk. The gun stuck on his chest. For an interesting shirt, I'd think it's because of the buttons but in this case, the shirt has no buttons. I pull his shirt apart and smirk at the wires connected to his chest. The room which was cold has now turn hot for a nervous Vincent. "Vincent, do you think I'm a fool?" I question, my accent becoming more thicker.
"A detective on my base, you've witnessed your worse nightmare come true." I smirk before aiming the gun at his head. "Which prayer do you say before going to bed?" I question. "The virgin....." the bullet leaves the gun and straight into his head, sending a flash of blood on my cheek. I move to the side and let my men handle Vincent's body. "Make sure it's deliver at the station. Halloween came early this years."
As I wipe the blood off my cheek, something strike my mind. Vincent might have been a two faced but he sure gave me a good advice. "If you want to work with people here, then your English will have to sound like the people here." I nod at the reminder and reach for my phone before dialing Reid. If there's one thing Reid is good at is keeping quiet about his background.
"Reid, find me one of your best translator. I'm interested in learning English."
_______
To be continue....
YOU ARE READING
The Mafia's translator
Romance"Come si dice spogliarsi in inglese?" He walk towards her taking the notepad and pen from her hands. "It means... Strip." She nervously said. "Well, why aren't you yet." He place her leg around his waist, taking the glasses from her face and smash h...
