The Devil's Princess

iv.

Phew! That was close. He scowled down at me. I felt so small under his gaze.

"It's right up here." I pointed my finger at a small cafe with twinkling lights dangling inside. "It looks so cute."

He kept walking away from me. I frowned. He didn't even agree that the cafe was cute. I caught up to him. He screamed danger, but I was used to danger. He had lots of tattoos covering his body. I don't think there was one spot of skin where he didn't have a lot least one tattoo.

His tight-fitted shirt hugged his tall, lean muscular frame. He had a snake tattoo on his neck. It wrapped around his collar bones as if it was suffocating him.

"Would you at least tell me your name?" I asked.

His phone ringing saved the man from answering my question and myself from rambling again. he fished for his phone in his pocket. He looked at the screen before angrily answering the call.

"What?" He grumbled into the phone. He clenched his sharp jaw. On a sunny day, his features looked more enhanced than in the nightclub.

He acted awfully like Giovanni. Did he have a long-lost sibling I wasn't aware of because they seemed so much like each other? They were similar, but I felt better about this stranger than I did when I met Giovanni. Mostly because he didn't kidnap me.

He rolled his eyes before hanging up the phone, a scowl still on his face.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"None of your business," he grunted.

I frowned.

"Can I come with you?" I asked.

I never ended up going to the bookstore, but maybe I could spend the day with him to convince him to get me a job at his restaurant.

"No," he dismissed.

I followed him anyway.

Finally, he came to a stop, but I bumped into his sculpted back as he did. I let out a high-pitched noise before backing away from him. He turned his neck and gave me a steely look. I shivered.

I noticed we were at his restaurant, the same one Sahar brought me to yesterday. This time we were at the front entrance of the building. There were wide glass doors and no lineup this time. It was bigger than the back entrance.

There were police sirens in the distance. Police cars and black SUV's parked on the curb outside of the restaurant. My chest tightened. They found him. I needed to leave this town like I did the other times. I had to before they figured out what I had done.

I saw a body get wheeled out of the restaurant, plastic covering the person's body. I couldn't see the face, but I could tell who it was. I knew who it was. My gut churned.

"Thank you for coming, Agent Rockefeller," a police officer greeted the owner.

He gave the person a curt nod before investigating the crime scene. The yellow tape was blocking off all the entrances of the whole building.

"Any sign of the murder weapon?" The owner, who was an agent, said in his deep harsh rasp.

"It's missing from the scene, but by the looks of the wounds, it was a knife inflicted stab wound the knife around three to four inches," the policeman informed. "Possibly a homicide. By the depth of the kill I'm positive the killer will strike again."

Again? No this was a mistake. I never meant for this to happen.

You had all the time to stop, but you kept stabbing him. You like this just as much as I do. I heard Giovanni practically whisper in my ear.

No. I didn't like it.

"One second," Agent Rockefeller said to the officer. Was the owner of the restaurant an FBI agent?

He grabbed me by my arm and pulled me aside. "Get out of here," he demanded.

I gulped. I stared at my hands, fiddling with my fingers to stop them from shaking. "Was someone murdered?" I asked. I tried my best to sound unsuspicious.

"Leave," he said in his usual crude tone.

"But this is so scary," I said in a devastated tone. I was so scared. I just had to stick around to see if police have any leads. To see if they could find out it was me, after all.

"Leave before I escort you out."

"I want to stay here."

"You will leave," he grumbled.

"Why are you so grumpy?" I asked.

He ignored me and walked back up to the police.

"Were there any witnesses?" He asked. His voice sounded professional and executive, which dictated that he was good at his job.

"Someone reported people leaving the club in a rush, but they couldn't tell who they were because of the dimness of the room," the officer informed, removing a piece of lint from his blue uniform.

"I need to talk to that person and also get a look at the security cameras," Agent Rockefeller commanded.

"That's the problem, Agent. It looks like someone deleted the camera footage." The officer removed his police radio and spoke in it. I barely understand a word he said.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. The pressure in my chest felt overbearing. That must have been Sahar who deleted the footage since she knows where it is located, and since she wormed there, she has more access to it the I did. She was one step ahead of me and protecting me.

I don't understand why she would protect me, though.

I'm not sure what she wanted from me or if she even wanted something in return. I instantly felt guilty for the things I have done behind her back. I need to bring the money back to her. I couldn't believe I even stole from someone in the first place. That was not someone I wanted to become, but I didn't think any of the circumstances that happened in the past year would happen.

"I need to talk to all the staff," Agent Rockefeller demanded. His next words sent chills down my spine. "Starting with Sahar Greenberg."

Oh no.