We step into the bar. Of course, no one was going to ask Victor for his ID, he owned the damn place. I glanced around and took in as much of the place as I could. I really didn't want to be here. All I saw was darkness, and dancing drunk bodies.
Once again, I am led between Victor and Dante, along with 2 other guards. There was always so many people, and I wasn't used to that. Dress appropriately. Victor was so protective.
I smoothen out a few wrinkles in my jumpsuit. It was white and laced in the back. I paired it with a black leather jacket and black heels. These men can't handle themselves, so be mindful and dress correctly. That's what he told me.
I'm seated at the far end of a semi-circle couch. All the men are seriously discussing in Italian while I'm uncomfortably squished between the strong scent of Victor and the tall shadows of Dante and his guards.
I don't drink much. Rather I don't drink at all. For some reason I had a sudden urge. Of course I wasn't allowed to move. Every time I shifted, Victor placed a hand on my leg. As if he was a chain, holding me down to the seat.
I whisper to Dante.
"I want a drink."
"Which one would you like?" he whispers back.
"Can I go down and see for myself?" I ask.
He hesitates, looks at Victor, and then says, "I doubt he would let you."
"You can keep and eye on me from the balcony up here."
"Fair enough," he sighed.
I turn to look at Victor. His jaw was sharp. It moved so perfectly, slicing every word that came out of his mouth.
"Victor," I say in a hushed tone. I hear him clear his throat in acknowledgement but he doesn't turn to me. "I'm going to go get a drink."
He head slightly turns my way. "Ask Dante to get it for you," he whispers.
"I wan't to go see for myself. It's boring up here."
"Not again," he breathes. What the hell does he mean not again?
I shift around, trying to loosen away from him, but he gripped my thigh tighter as if he was ordering me to stay put.
Since when have I taken orders, verbal, or nonverbal.
I get up with a swift move and his hand falls off my leg helplessly. He looks up at me and then turns back away biting down hard on his jaw. I could feel his frustration creep up my spine, but I walk out of the room, flipping my hair and letting it fall behind my back.
I walk down and the bartender turns to me. "Uno Negroni," I request. The man nods his head and then turns to prepare the drink. Within moments he places a glass with fizzing liquid, probably a light peach color. He slices an orange and slides it onto the rim of the cup.
"Grazie, signore," I say and I turn away with the glass. The little bits of broken Italian that I knew came handy now. I drink and disappear into the crowd. I could no longer see Dante watching me from the balcony so I assumed that he couldn't see me.
I was drunk. I could tell that the one drink had taken over. A man calls me to a room and I'm told to go serve the men in there. Did I look like a club server to him? I was dressed with more coverage than most girls in here.
As I refuse and pull away I see faces blur and refocus.
The one drink had me messed up.
<~~~~>
YOU ARE READING
To Find Isabel
General Fiction"I have no obligation to take orders from a cheap gangster who kidnapped his enemy's daughter because he's too much of a coward to go face to face." "Watch your mouth," he growls, his grip tightening. "Or what?" I sneered. ••••• In an effort to hold...
