The Gangster and His Beauty - Gangsters in Love Series

04

Despite being overwhelmed and tired, I still managed to clean myself up-- just washing my face. I didnt go anything too crazy to my appearance. In fact, I think I look worse now because I am not wearing any make up.

I step out of my room, the soft carpet beneath my feet muffling any sound as I make my way down the fancy steps of the grand mansion. The chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling cast a warm glow, illuminating the intricate details of the ornate banister. It's a beautiful morning, and I'm filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension about what awaits me.

As I reach the bottom of the staircase, my eyes are drawn to an older man standing a few feet away. He has a distinguished air about him, with his black and silver hair neatly combed back. His suit, though undoubtedly expensive, looks a little too tight on his body, emphasizing his slightly stooped posture. But what catches my attention the most are the classic Mickey Mouse gloves adorning his hands, a whimsical contrast to his otherwise formal appearance.

Our eyes meet, and I notice a spark of recognition in his dull grey eyes. His face breaks into a warm smile, and his lips part to speak. "Welcome, Ms. Mintz," he says, his voice carrying a hint of familiarity. "I was expecting you."

"Who the hell are you?" I blurt out, my words lacking the courtesy his kind greeting deserves. I refuse to acknowledge his warm welcome knowing damn well I live with a bunch of thugs and their murderous  leader.

He doesn't seem taken aback by my bluntness, maintaining his friendly demeanor. "My apologies for not introducing myself earlier," he replies, extending a gloved hand toward me. "I am Kingsley, I am the butler serving the Withlock estate, and a good friend of Mr.Whitlock himself." He smiles.

"Friend?" I raise an eyebrow, staring at him up and down.

"Yes, I may be old but Gael has been a really close friend of mine since the day we met..." The smile lines around his mouth lessens, and that glimmering feeling in his gaze glosses over like someone being hit with a sad memory. Kingsley looks up at me with a panic in a split second. Then he straightens up himself. "This way please. Gael and the others are waiting for you."

"The others?"

"Mr. Whitlock has some guests over. Very prominent to his establishment."

"You mean his gang full of murdering and money-laundering schemes?"

Kinglsey has an awkward smile plastered on his face. "Please, follow me. The others will be waiting."

I hesitate for a moment then I just follow him. I follow Mr. Kingsley through a labyrinth of hallways until we reach a set of ornate double doors. He opens them with a flourish, revealing a grand dining hall beyond. My breath catches in my throat as I step inside, my eyes widening at the opulence that greets me. This is no ordinary mansion; it's a gang house, or so I've heard.

The room is adorned with exquisite chandeliers, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on the polished mahogany table. Fine china and sparkling crystal glasses are meticulously arranged, and a sumptuous feast awaits, tantalizing aromas wafting through the air. It's a stark contrast to what I expected—a criminal's hideout, not a scene from a lavish ball.

As I take in the sight, I suddenly notice a pair of intense green eyes fixed upon me. My heart skips a beat, and I feel a flush of heat rise to my cheeks. Gael, the leader of the gang, is seated at the head of the table, his gaze unwavering. How did I miss him and the several other men seated around the table? I was so caught up in the glamor that I failed to notice their presence.

The weight of their collective attention settles on me, and I can feel sweat beginning to bead at my palms. I clasp my hands together, trying to hide my nervousness, but it's futile. The silence in the room is deafening, and I can almost hear the thoughts swirling in their minds.