WICKED GAMES WITH THE MAFIA

THE FIRST EMAIL

I sighed as my head throbbed as if it had been hit by a hammer. Rubbing my sore eyes, I got off my old double creaking bed and made my way to the bathroom.

I had spent the whole night brainstorming ideas on this case which just made me realise how out of depth I was here. Seith Rosewood came from a filthy rich family which had been believed to lead the German mafia for centuries. His parents had died in a gun fight seven years ago, leaving their only son in the hands of his grandmother who was the only family he had.

After brushing my teeth hastily, I made my way to my tiny open kitchen. Whilst pouring myself some cereal, my thoughts continued to rush around my head.

Unlike Seith, I had no family. My parents and two brothers had all died on their way to my high school graduation. The car had crashed under the wheels of a truck which transported oil, both the truck and car had burst into flames, leaving nothing but burnt bones and metal.

To this day I did not know how I pulled through such pain, had tried committing suicide three times after their death with no vey. My chest clenched tight at the unwanted pain of the memory.

After eating I pulled on my black leggings, adidas jacket and some sneakers and decided to go out jogging, needing to distress.

Swiftly climbing down the steps, I plugged in my earphones and blustered some music. Jogging, I went past the nearly empty park and the market, suddenly, being the Interpol agent that I am, my instincts screamed that someone was following me. I didn't stop to check who it was, but instead broke into a run.

Rushing back into my house I noticed an unfamiliar black Mercedes Benz parked a few cars down from my place with tinted windows and a missing number plate. My inner alarm started ringing.

My phone buzzed, causing me to jump in fright. It was an unknown caller.

"Hello," I said tentatively after pressing the answer button.

"Melissa, this is Camilla. Act normal as if you are talking to a friend. We believe that hidden cameras have been installed in your house and they are following you. Don't freak out, just do your job. You will receive an email in a few minutes." The line died.

I stood there with the phone still held to my ear. This was getting very real very fast. Oohh my lord! They had installed cameras! What the fuck! I bit my lower lip and tried my hardest not to freak out. Were they watching me right now? This guy was insane. He was definitely leaving up to his reputation.

I rushed to my room and opened my mac. The laptop beeped as it notified me of a new email. I opened it and browsed through it.

You will be attending the 2016 business awards with Mr Seith Rosewood. This will be held on the twelfth of November.
Be ready by 7 pm.
Rules of international escorts:
Don't talk unless talked to.
Do whatever the client wants.
Don't argue with client.

I froze.

Do whatever the client wants?

Every word on that text left her pale realising how bad this was.
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12/11/16, 4pm
I was on edge, so nervous, what was I going to wear? I had nothing and had no money to buy a dress. I was basically freaking out.

The bell rang suddenly and I sighed. Rushing to the door I opened it wide to find a delivery boy who carried a black box which was laced with gold.

"Are you miss Wilson?" The boy asked. He was 5 feet tall, probably around the age of sixteen. His eyes were intensely blue and he had curly short hair.

"Yeah," I said, not being able to take my eyes off the box.

"Please sign here," the boy said, handing me a silver pen. I signed and took the box into my arms.

"Thank you," I said, my eyes never leaving the box curiosity eating away at me at what it could be. Rushing to my bedroom, I opened the box and screamed. I took out the dress and laid it on the bed. It was a black lace dress that had a round neck with sleeves, so long it would cover my toes. I jumped in excitement as I ran into the bathroom to take a shower.

When finished, I made my way back into my room and sat in front of the dresser, taking out all my necessities. Firstly I worked on the eyes. I did my eyebrows, trimming them and then colouring them with a light brown pencil. Next I put on some eye shadow; white, black and grey, leaving some space for each colour to pop out.

Since I had soft skin, I only applied some sweat controlling powder, not bothering with foundation, and then brushed my curly black locks.

Walking to my bed, I took the dress out of its box and pulled it over my head. It was a perfect fit and I couldn't wait to see my reflection in the mirror. Opening my jewellery box, I took out my mum's golden earrings and bracelet, and then applied some pink lipstick for the final touch.

Looking at the clock I gasped as it beeped 6:50 pm, rushing, I put on my 6 inch black heels, sprayed some perfume and grabbed my purse along with my phone. At seven sharp the doorbell went off leading to me speed walking to the door and swinging it open.

A dark buff man stood at my door step wearing a black plain designer suit with white gloves. His eyes were red, they seemed to pierce through to the soul, his face was not a friendly one, a person took one look and walked the other way. The man's whole built screamed serial killer and I could not help but shiver. I also did not fail to notice the gun by his hip, there was another one in his inside jacket pocket, I could make out its shape from where I stood and would bet a thousand bucks it had a silencer.

I glanced behind his shoulder to see a black range rover and a silver Mercedes parked on the road. The cars had all their lights on in the dark street, they made a convoy, grabbing a lot of people's attention. Two body guards stood outside the Range Rover guarding from outside, they looked so lethal no one would dare come closer.

I tried to move but my body had an idea of its own where it stood in familiar ground, away from the danger I would just walk into.

"Miss Wilson?" the scary man asked.

"Yes," I replied as I closed the door and locked it, placing the key in my purse.

He led the way to the range rover and opened the door for me.

Taking one last deep breath, I entered the devil's car.