Cravings

Yes. she is a Ferrari

It's been a week since her world was sent into upheaval. After the nurse administered the shot that knocked the Little Raven cold, I had her moved to the medical wing of our home and had been visiting her regularly. She was an odd little bird with the darkest hair I had ever seen. Dark hair, nearly black eyes and the palest skin I'd ever seen on a living person....

She was long and lean, standing at roughly five feet seven maybe taller in heels. Not that I had looked myself but according to the family doctor her skin was unmarked. Smooth and supple, ivory colored skin from the top of her head, all the way down to her black painted toes. Her features weren't all that unique but her attitude made up for that and if I was right, this was the girl I had been looking for. She had caught my eye about seven years ago, standing behind the bar of one of my most successful clubs, serving drinks like a professional at eighteen years olds. She was skinny back then, all knees and elbows and inexperience. She was a raven amongst doves. Her shiny black hair shown brightly in a world full of blondes and bottled red heads and I remember wondering back then if the color was natural. Her eyes though. Those eyes, a deep dark brown, almost black in color showed so much wisdom, so much knowledge for someone so young was rare in the times we lived in and I can remember thinking, she never had it easy even though she never would have told you so. I've watched her from a far for years. Something about her had me captivated from the first time I saw her. I've made sure she was paid well, and left her a nightly tip whether I was in the club or not. My men tipped her generously as well.

She was beautiful, laid out on the ivory colored sheets and resting peacefully under light sedation. Her wounds were severe. Being shot is no joke and adding in the chest tube to drain the blood from her chest cavity and the broken ribs, her body needed time to rest. Time to heal.

Standing, leaning in her doorway, my mind flashes to the night she became mine.

"Doesn't look good for you Carter....I gave you a month to come up with what you owe me. Seems I have no choice but to collect the hard way." I said. My security team standing in a pentagram around the pathetic excuse for a human.

"I don't have your money but I can get it! Please Lorenzo! Give me another month! I've hit a low spot but I can get you your money!" The slim ball begs from his knees.

"I'm done waiting. It's not bad enough you're a horrible gambler BUT you're an addict as well. You have no intention of paying back your debt so I'll just take both your legs.... From the knees down. It's nothing personal but I wouldn't want anyone to think I've gone all soft now would I?" I'm already bored with the transaction when the strung out moron says the worst thing I have ever heard.

"We can make a trade?... I can make a trade!... I.. I have a daughter." The tears are no flowing freely from the addict in question but his offer strikes me in the stomach.

"You have a daughter? Someone slept with you?" I can't help but be surprised. The man is truly gross.

"She.. she... she was adopted! My.. my wife... wanted a baby. She was adopted.... But you can have her! She's beautiful! She works for you already, Don Lorenzo! Please... take... take her!"

As grotesque as the offer is, he's peaked my interest.

"She works for me already? Who is she?" My voice is now booming. This piece of shit.....

"Her.. her name is Harlow... she has.... black hair.... An.. and... works at the King of Spades. You can have her..." snot has joined the tears on his face.

"You would levy your own daughter against a gambling and drug debt? You really are the scum of the earth." My words leave my lips as my foot connects with his stomach.