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My stomach growled. I didn’t think I ate dinner yesterday.
The man was nowhere to be found. With a shrug, I turned around and poured myself a cup of coffee. There was a small cup of creamer that I topped it off with, stirring it with a silver spoon until it was the perfect shade. I sat down, sipping a little. I almost spilled it on my lap when I started, hearing a quiet scuffle behind me. I went to look, but I only caught a glimpse of the hotel staff member that had brought the coffee before he had his arm around my throat and a piece of cloth pressed firmly over my nose.
The sweet sugary scent of flowers suddenly overwhelmed me, and the edges of my vision started to go black. I struggled, but he was a lot bigger than me, and he easily overpowered me simply by squeezing his arm a little tighter, making it harder to breathe. I tried to kick and punch my way free, but the lack of air quickly made me feel lightheaded and I realized that I was no match for him.
My coffee had fallen onto the floor. The mug had broken into pieces and the liquid was pooling on the tile.
“Jon Moretti would like to have a word with you,” he threatened, and I blinked, whimpering softly.
Who the fuck was that?
* * *
I woke up in the back of a car. My head was pounding, and I vaguely recognized that my hands were bound in front of me, and my ankles were lashed together with zip ties or something like that. When I opened my eyes, I saw nothing but blackness and panicked for several seconds until I realized that a blindfold was securely fastened over my eyes. I took several deep shaky breaths, trying to calm myself to the best of my ability so that I could take stock of my surroundings and figure a way out of this.
I remembered the attendant saying a name. What was it?
Come on, brain. Start firing anytime now.
Jay… Jason… Juan… No. None of those were right. Jon, that was it. Jon Moretti.
I still didn’t know who that was.
I had no idea how much time had passed. Maybe fifteen minutes, an hour, or several more. I had no way to know, not when my sight was cut off like this. I could tell that I was still dressed, at least partially. My legs were bare, but the familiar fabric of my nightshirt was still soft against my skin. My underwear was still where it was supposed to be, which was a good thing. My fingers and toes felt intact, and nothing hurt other than my head. I was thankful for that, at least.
Whoever wanted to take me wanted me alive. Hopefully, they would also want to keep me unhurt. And maybe not dead.
Maybe this was a new client? I shook my head. No. That wasn’t it. I would have heard something about it. Usually, my handler Ricky would arrange for me to meet with new prospective contracts after an extensive screening process that would guarantee my safety on the meet up. He’d placed bodyguards with me before, but I didn’t like being followed everywhere and had put a stop to that relatively quickly. I liked to work alone, but he would never have approved something like this.
The car pulled to a stop, and someone pulled me out roughly. The engine didn’t cut off, instead rumbling beside us for a few moments before it drove off. With my arms and legs bound, I couldn’t do much to fight him when he tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He carried me a short distance, opened a door, and continued on inside. The noise of the outdoors was muted now, and the cold chill of the air conditioning made me shiver. I tried to listen so that I could have some idea about where I was, but there was nothing distinctive about the place other than the muted murmuring of a group of people talking several rooms away. The quiet hush of a pair of elevator doors opened and he walked inside. The doors closed as he turned around.
From what I could tell, it was an apartment building or maybe a hotel. I couldn’t be sure though, not without being able to see anything.
It was impossible to track how many floors we went up, but I could tell enough to know that we were in a high rise of some kind. When the elevator eventually came to a stop, he carried me out and took several turns before I could hear a key turning in a lock and a door opening.
More gently now, he lifted me off of his shoulder and placed me back down on the floor. A door closed loudly behind me with a deafening bang as he cut the ties at my ankles and untied my wrists. When I was finally free, I rubbed my sore skin. He said nothing as he grabbed the blindfold on my face and tore it free. I yelped in surprise.
I blinked, having trouble seeing for several heart-pounding seconds. Eventually I realized the room was dark and when my eyes finally adjusted, I turned back to see two enormous brutes standing by the door. Dressed in black and outfitted with a gun at either side of their waists, they were the type of criminal that wouldn’t blink twice about killing a girl like me. They stared me down like they were waiting for me to do something, almost challenging me to make a run for it, but there would be no escaping from them. They could break me in half like a twig without even lifting a finger.
I knew better than to do anything foolish.
Someone cleared their throat from behind me and I turned back around. My eyes searched the shadows and only upon closer inspection did I notice a figure sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. He was wearing an expensive suit and when he flicked on a light on a side table, his cufflinks sparkled beneath it. His tie was gray silk, and his shoes were leather, recently shined and conditioned from the looks of it. His suit was impeccably pressed and spoke to a man that knew how to dress himself and do it well.
I swallowed anxiously. There was no way this was just a normal meeting with a client. I was in serious trouble, and it might already be too late for me to get out of here.
I looked around for anything that might help me escape, taking stock of my surroundings just in case it would be useful for me later.
From what I gathered, we were in an office of some kind. In the center of the room was an enormous wooden desk. The surface of it was remarkably clean with only a computer, a keyboard, and a small black book. The walls were covered with dark stained wood cabinets, all the doors shut and hiding the contents inside. The knobs were a bronzed twisted metal. On a normal day, I might have found them pretty.
“Mila Everson. You’re a difficult woman to track down,” the man rumbled from the corner. He stood up and I took a nervous step back. I blinked several more times as he stepped into the light. I gasped in recognition.
I knew his face. He was the man from the mansion, the one with the ruby ring. I glanced down. He was wearing it now.
“Jon,” I whispered, curling my arms in front of me as if they would protect me.
“So, you do know who I am then,” he replied, cocking his head with interest. His gaze leveled with mine, inquisitive, curious, and kind in a way I couldn’t quite place amongst the resolute fury written all across his face.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to say too much to give away that I’d seen him in the house I’d robbed not long ago.
