Kidnapped By The Mafia

CHAPTER 6

Emma's POV:

Shower. That was my first thought waking up. A long, hot shower was what every girl needed. I slowly climbed out of my bed and walked into the bathroom. I stripped out of my pajamas discarding them on the cold tile floor and jumped in.

I was officially, warm, clean, and relaxed. Showers tend to have that affect on me. I was wrapped in a large fluffy white towel. It was like wearing a cloud. I stepped out of the bathroom singing quietly to myself as I walked to my closet.

"Well the straight-haired girls they all want curls, and the brunettes wanna be blonde."

"I don't think blonde would be your color." A deep voice came from behind me.

I jumped a good two feet in the air and spun around clutching the towel to my body. Andrew was leaning on the wall inside of my closet staring at me. Oh and guess what! He was smirking, oh isn't that the shock of the century.

"What do you want?" I asked relieved it was him and not some other guy.

"Get dressed." He simply stated making no notion that he was going to leave.

"I can't get dressed with you standing there."

"Yes you can."

"Okay, let me rephrase that for you. I WON'T get dressed with you standing there."

"Fine stay in the towel, works for me." He said in that cocky, hot voice of his.

'NO! NO! NOT HOT! EVIL! EVIL VOICE! YEAH!'

I glared at him before turning and quickly grabbing a pair on underwear, a bra, a pair of jeans and a shirt. I rushed past him holding on to my towel, just in case he tried something. I could feel his eyes watching me as I walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Prick." I muttered as I pulled on my clothes. I had selected a pair of dark blue jeans and a teal fitted tee.

I came out of the bathroom to find my room empty. There was no Andrew, no sound, nothing. I looked around skeptically trying to find where he was hiding. He wasn't in the closet or behind the door he hadn't slipped into the bathroom. There was only one place left, under the bed. I knelt down and quickly lifted the skirt.

"HA!" I yelled at empty air. Nothing.

I stood up confused. Where the hell did he go?

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

Yep, that was the lovely sound that escaped my mouth when a pair of strong arms hoisted me from the ground and spun me around. Andrew set me down on the floor, before he dropped me due to his laughter.

"You should have seen your face! It was like you thought I was going to kill you!" he said clutching at his stomach.

"Wouldn't put it past you." I mumbled as I sulked. How did I not see him, where had he been hiding.

"I'm not that bad. I mean I've killed some people in my time-."

"YOU KILLED PEOPLE!" I screeched, interrupting him.

"Well, yeah. It's my job." He said crossing his arms in front of him.

"That's not a job! That's a crime!"

"Tell that to your father." He stated flatly.

"My dad has never killed anyone! What is wrong with you people?"

"Not that you know of." He said darkly.

I stood there thinking about what he said. I know I'm not the biggest fan of my dad but I was not going to just let someone stand there and accuse him of killing people, when this person in front of me was a murderer.

"You have no right to talk about my father." I said challenging him.

"I think I do." He retorted.

"No you don't! My father has never killed anyone, unlike some people!"

"Just keep believing what you want to believe, but sometime your going to have to step out of that fantasy world of your and into reality."

I decided to ignore him and turned my back, crossing my arms over my chest. I stood there waiting for him to leave. He didn't leave. I could feel him glaring at my back. I think there was a hole in me from his deathly glare. His hand closed around my wrist and dragged me towards the door.

"LET GO!" I screamed using my other hand trying to pry myself from his grasp.

"My father wants to see you." He stated coldly leading me down the stairs and into the room I had first entered when I had arrived at this hell.

The same man was sitting behind the same desk, the same way, as if he had never moved from that very spot. This time however he did not have a cruel smile on his face. His face was blank and emotionless. On his desk sat a medium sized white box with an envelope on top of it.

"Emma please have a seat." He said motioning toward the soft leather chair across from his desk.

I sat down slowly, expecting the chair to shoot me. This was odd. What had happened to the mean, cruel man? This man seemed calm, and in some way nice. Had he forgotten to take his Prozac that day I had met him?

"You wanted to see me." I said sitting. It felt like I was a small child in the principle's office.

Andrew flopped down in the chair next to mine and placed an arm over the back of his chair, a scowl placed firmly on his face.

"Yes. How do you like your room?" He asked obviously beating around the bush.

"Fine, thanks." I replied shortly trying to get to the point.

"Good, good."

The room filled with silence. It was an eerie silence. No one spoke no one moved, I don't even think we were breathing. There was an uncomfortable presence in the room that could not be explained. Almost as if someone had just died. He glanced towards the white box that sat neatly on his desk.

It seemed out of place here. This room was dark and stiff. The box was practically glowing white and seemed to disturb Mr. Cressin. As though it had offened or threatened him.

"This is for you." He said clearing his throat and handing me the box, along with the envelope.

I sat it in my lap not knowing what to do with it.

"Andrew please take Emma back to her room." He said to his son.

Andrew stood up and grasped my wrist. With my other hand I clutched the box and envelope to my chest. We silently made our way back to my room, where Andrew left me alone closing the door.

I was alone holding a box not knowing what it contained or what was in the envelope. A million questions raced through my head. Was this some attempt to kill me? Was it a bomb? No it couldn't be a bomb; it would blow the house to bits. I decided to find out what was in the box, but first the envelope.

I opened it to find a neatly folded, crisp letter. It was for me. I unfolded the letter and read in shock.

Andrew's POV:

I had just shut the door to her room when my mind started to wander. Why had my dad looked so, so sorry? What was in the box and the letter? Was it a bomb meant to kill her? No, if we wanted her dead it would have already been done, and a lot cleaner. I needed to know what was in that box and what the envelope contained.

A/N: CLIFFHANGER!