Rescued by a Villain®

Chap. 5

Keisha:

There are a few things in life that scare me to death. Very few that they only come down to five-or is it six?- things. And on that list of things I find absolutely terrifying is a man that reminds me of my eight grade teacher. I mean, he looks like he is my eight grade teacher himself. If only the man had not been killed and had the will power to be this rich, I would've thought it is him here in front of me.

I was home schooled for precautions against being harmed from "criminals". It didn't make sense then since many other rich and poor kids didn't all get home schooled. I had sumed it up to them being paranoid. And then I grew up and bam! I find out my parents are the "criminals".

I mean, it explains why this man will look like him. He probably is him. Or related to him since he's dead.

"Mr. Forts?" I question and the man chuckles. Okay, so definitely not Mr. Forts.

"It seems you don't know who you had tried and failed to rob," I grit my teeth when he said failed instead of wincing as I wanted. That would show weakness and I am not doing that. Not even in the most vulnerable position I have been placed in my short life. I mean, I ain't good at robbing for anything. But this sure contradicted that story. He then appears in front of me, his expensive suit carrying the smell of some Hugo Boss cologne or something close to it I have smelled before. He pinches my chin between his index finger and thumb that are heavy with gold rings, forcing me to look at him. Up close, he isn't bad looking, rather good looking. The only real sign that shows he is a cold hearted son of a bastard is his cynical grin and narrow black eyes. And believe me when I say having beady eyes didn't help his case. "I am Rocco Falcone, just for future reference."

The fact that I do have a future doesn't escape me. And that the name of my eight grade teacher didn't strike any recognition. That still doesn't rule out the fact he might be related to my deceased teacher.

There's actually a greater chance than I originally thought of surviving this now though. But I am not dumb enough to lower my guard.

I lift an eyebrow in boredom. "Is that famous for something?" I ask and he surprises me by laughing.

"I like you," he says, releasing my chin and steps back to get a good look at me. I try not to cringe, although I really wish that an earthquake or something could happen right about now. I mean, what are natural disasters really for? Shouldn't they at least happen at desperate times? Boy, life seriously has it out for me. "Surprised that they sent a woman to do the dirty job. But now I can see why, you aren't that dumb with that smart mouth of yours. Too bad it will only get you in trouble."

"Oh, you really are a smart one, aren't you?" I retort sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Bravo, you can finally put one down in the history books. Another one of your great wisdom moments."

He narrows his gaze at me and I do the same. "Take her to the basement where I can't hear that mouth of hers. I want to be able to focus on what I want to do with her."

"Wow, I really do feel flattered by your obvious thought into this," I tell him with a cynical smile."I bet you don't think on a regular basis so I am indeed flattered."

He raises his hand and I quickly move my face to the side before his hand can connect with my cheek. He growls in anger as his gaze becomes filled with frustration.

"Ditch the basement, take her to the torture chamber," he tells the men holding my forearms that were seriously beginning to hurt. "And call my son, I want him here to watch this."