Bound by blood and ardor

Chapter 2

Z.R

I walk into the office, the usual hustle and bustle surrounding me. The air is filled with the sounds of ringing phones, tapping keyboards, and the murmurs of conversations. Their voices fill the air, mingling with the clicking of keyboards and the low hum of conversation. A wave of greetings washes over me. "Good morning, Mr. Romano," one of my colleagues says with a respectful nod.

"Good morning," I reply, returning the gesture with a small smile. The atmosphere is filled with admiration and respect for me, a feeling that I have grown accustomed to over the years.

As I make my way through the crowd, I roll up the sleeves of my white button-up shirt, the fabric hugging my forearms perfectly. With a confident stride, I hook my grey blazer in my hand, allowing it to drape casually while my other hand goes up to fix my unruly brown, wavy hair.

Reaching the elevator, I press the button for the upper floors. The elevator descends after what seems like an unusually long wait. When the doors finally open, I am greeted by a scene that I have never witnessed before in this building, and it catches me completely off guard. 

There, on the floor of the elevator, sits Mr. Harrington, an old man known for his questionable behavior. His head leans against the wall, a trail of blood trickling down from his nose. His expression is a mix of terror and shock as if he has encountered something beyond his comprehension.

My attention is immediately drawn to the young lady, about my age, standing nearby. She wears a white blazer that accentuates her figure, paired with a black skirt that defines her curves. She is engaged in a conversation with Mr. Harrington, her words causing his fear to intensify. Intrigued by the unfolding drama, I raise an eyebrow in amusement, I lean against the entrance of the elevator and smirk satisfied, glad that someone has finally put Mr. Harrington, the notorious creep, in his place.

As the lady turns around to step out of the elevator, she smooths down her black skirt, her captivating hazel eyes meeting my grey ones. A smirk tugs at the corners of my lips, finding amusement in the situation. 

However, her glare indicates that she is not amused. "What?" she demands, her tone laced with irritation.

Realizing that my reaction may have come across as inappropriate, I quickly raise my hands in surrender and shake my head, my amusement still evident on my face. Stepping into the elevator, I crouch down next to Mr. Harrington, his frightened gaze fixed upon me.

Leaning in close, I whisper to him, ensuring my voice carries a threatening undertone. "If you dare breathe a word about this to the cops or anyone else, I'll ensure that not only do you lose your job, but I'll personally take care of you." Fear fills Mr. Harrington's eyes as he nods, understanding the gravity of the consequences that await him.

Without wasting any more time, I swiftly make my way to the lobby, determined to catch up with the enigmatic woman who has put Mr. Harrington in his place. As I reach her side, I notice she has removed her white blazer, revealing her curly hair gathered to one side. A small but visible 'V.R.' tattoo peeks out from beneath her ear, slightly concealed by a golden hoop earring.

"Hey," I greet her, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Ignoring my presence, she continues walking with purpose. Undeterred, I quicken my pace, eager to uncover the details of the elevator incident. "What happened? Was he bothering you? Do you want me to report him?" I inquire, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Her response is firm and direct, leaving no room for negotiation. "That's none of your business," she states firmly, her tone indicating her resolve. "I've got it settled."