Entangled With the Mafia

A Meeting

×BLAKE×

I swallowed the handful of pills before washing it down with water.
We were parked in front of a posh looking building, running late because Saint stopped at the pharmacy on the way.
"Can't I just stay here?" I pleaded. There was a sense of dread creeping into my chest.
"So you can try to escape?" Saint scoffed, "I don't think so."
"Look at me, I can barely walk. How the fuck do you think I'll escape?" I honestly had no intention on attempting another escape. I needed to recover first. And I wanted to gain their trust a little before I tried again.
"You're not staying in the car, Blake." His tone was firm, leaving no room for an argument.
With a sigh, I climbed out of the car. Hissing and grimacing in pain.
If he wouldn't let me stay in the car and rest, I would make damn sure he heard about it at every chance.
I yelped when his hand wrapped around my bicep.
"Must you always manhandle me?" I snapped.
"You love it."
I shut my mouth quickly. Why did he have to have such a deep voice?
He chuckled at my reaction and pulled me alongside him as we entered the building.
"Jesus." I breathed out in awe. It was just as posh as it looked from the outside.
The interior had the most beautiful diamond chandelier hanging in the foyer, a red carpet with gold trim on the floor. There was a marble stand in the middle with a large bouquet of roses on it.
I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of the flowers, the blood-red color was a stark contrast to the cream walls.
I reached forward, touching the petals lightly.
"So beautiful. Yet so fragile." Saint's voice broke through my thoughts.
I kept my eyes on the flowers, "Funny thing about roses? They have thorns. Even the things that seem fragile can make you bleed."
He fell silent for a moment, presumably thinking over my words.
"Come." He pulled me along again.
I would much rather stay in the foyer, but I knew that wasn't an option.
We stepped into a large area with a bar to the one side, chairs and tables to the middle.
Toward the back of the room was a stage.
There were men in suits sitting at one of the tables and my skin crawled from the sight of them.
Saint pulled out a chair for me and I took a seat, trying to ignore the leering eyes on me.
"You've brought us a new play thing?" One of the older men asked, he had a thick accent I couldn't decipher.
Saint took the seat beside me, "Not yet, Roland."
Not yet.
Saint's words left me feeling cold. A sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
Roland grinned, "I want her now. A little black and blue never scared me off, right boys?" He cackled and the other two men laughed with him.
"Makes it more fun, if you ask me." One of the other men commented, he sounded American.
The anxiety clutched me tightly, my chest heaving as I began to hyperventilate.
The American reached out a hand, running a creepy finger across my jaw, "I bet you scream real pretty."
Saint's hand shot out, grabbing the American and bending his hand back in a funny angle.
"If you touch what currently belongs to me, I will break your fucking hand off and make you eat it."
My eyes widened at Saint's words while the American squirmed in his iron-clad grip.
Jesus, Saint was insane.
He let him go and straightened his jacket, "We are here to conduct business. If you can't control your dicks long enough to do that, maybe this little deal isn't going to work out."
Everyone was silent. And me? I was ready to run.
Fear was holding tightly to my heart as it thumped loudly in my chest.
Saint glanced in my direction, "Breathe, little rose."
I let out a squeek. Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who was terrified.
Through everything I had gone through in my life, I could only remember once when I felt this much fear.
It was a memory I would rather forget.
He turned back to the other men at the table and began to speak. I tried my best to listen, but I couldn't concentrate.
All I could do was keep an eye on the doors. An exit plan already formulating in my mind.
Saint slid his drink toward me, leaning close, "Drink."
The men seemed to be getting comfortable, eyes going over to the stage where an exotic dancer had appeared.
I shook my head, I didn't want to be intoxicated in the middle of this.
"I wasn't asking, Blake."
I reached out with a shaky hand, lifting the glass to my lips and taking a burning sip of the amber liquid.
"Good girl." Despite the situation, his voice sent a shiver down my spine and I clenched my thighs together.
The feeling of shame once again joining me.
Roland eyed me curiously, "What happened to her?" Although he was looking at me, he addressed Saint. As if I couldn't speak for myself.
"Your friend over here slammed his car into me after his equally psychotic brother sliced my leg open." I held Roland's gaze, showing him that although I was scared, I would always have my own voice.
Roland turned to Saint, "Where did you get her?"
"That's none of your concern, Roland. Don't push me today." Saint's voice was calm, but the storm behind his eyes was evident.
Roland smirked, "When you're bored with her, send her my way. I might keep her for myself."
Saint stayed silent, his eyes narrowed.
"I need to go to the bathroom." I said. I wanted to get away from the table.
The atmosphere was threatening and I could feel the anxiety pushing through.
Saint raised a brow, "Be quiet."
I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. The was going to be a long day.