The Don's Sweetener [18+]

02

Daily dose of mental health:

Whatever you do, make it count.

I was lead to a room well kept as an office. A huge photograph of the whole family standing behind the former Don and his wife, who looked quite happy with what they turned out to be, hanging behind the desk chair.

Those fuckers, created a family of killers, their, robbers and quite possibly human traffickers looking smug as a smurf and happy as goofy. Motherfuckers!

The guy that accompanied me to the room stood outside the door, saying he was wanted there, taking my phone in the process.

And there I realized I was finally doomed.

The door of the room opened, the guy from earlier came in, the one, that was talking to me before.

"Hey there." He greeted, the half smile still plastered on his face. "You got caught, didn't you?"

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"Your invitation is fake." He stated in a matter of fact. "We used the gold detail there not a copper one."

I eye the invitation card, that I brought along resting on the table before me. The guy was standing shoulder to shoulder with me.

"Leave us alone, Ben." Came another voice.

"Sí, Brother." He said and smirked at my direction before backing out. The other guy came into view.

He walked with an air of confidence and power, unbuttoning the only button in his suit jacket before shrugging it off.

The jacket lay carelessly on the floor, as he took a seat on the desk chair.

"Officer Lucia." A mocking tone gripped at the end of his voice.

I looked at him properly. The dark material covering his well defined body emphasizes the olive shade in his eyes. The black mop of hair resting on his hair were well kept using some expensive product. His jaw was set in the most...sexy manner with highly defined jawbones, that could fucking cut the paper edges. "Or trainee Lucia, is that correct?"

Why am I fanglirling? This is enemy.

Enemy mode, Lucia. Come on!

I cross my arms over my chest suddenly feeling naked. "Why am I here?" I ask.

Honestly, I knew better, why am I here.

I was fucking doomed, putting it in a nicer way.

Doomed. Meeting my worst fate.

"I thought you wanted to meet me, per say." He said. "Chocolates?" He asked pointing a small bowl at his desk.

"If you're done, I'd want to leave."