Shady (Remake)

Chapter 2 ⚯ A Relationship of Convenience

Tuesday was coming around faster than I had wanted. It was currently Monday, and just the thought of this "meeting" was making me nervous. Who knows what the old man has planned? What if it's just a setup to kidnap me or something? I wouldn't put it past him; he was an absolute bastard.

I was sitting outside of a Starbucks in Brooklyn, scrolling through Google to see if I could find the location he's sending me to. Considering I'm going to be picked up from the dorm by Markus, his right-hand man, I wasn't told where we would be going. The whole thing just had me on edge.

Sighing, I threw the phone on the metal table and leaned back in my chair, moving my sunglasses over my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest. I seemed to be sighing a lot these days. Everything up to the café getting trashed by Angelo and his minions (from which I was promptly fired the day after) to the run-in with Delatorre and having Scott stitch me up has been wild. Easily the most eventful week I've had in a while. And now, I have this stupid meeting set up by my unloving father. Could it just end already?

I heard the scraping of a chair on concrete across from me, and I simply didn't care enough to see who it was that sat down. They can do whatever as long as they mind their business.

"Miss Cappello?"

I flew forward in my chair, gripping the arms as I looked at the man who had called me by that name. Once I realized who it was, I leaned back again and tried to ignore him as best I could before my day was, yet again, ruined.

"Samara."

I clicked my tongue, my jaw tight. "Yes, Markus?"

"I'm sure you know why I'm here."

"I have a guess, yeah," I admitted reluctantly. "What time will you pick me up tomorrow?"

"Six-thirty. Make sure you—"

"Wear the damn dress; yeah, I got it."

I could hear the smile as he said, "And the shoes. No sneakers."

I took a peek at him from under my sunglasses. I didn't particularly hate Markus, but he annoyed me. I simply couldn't understand who would willingly work for my father, let alone befriend him. At first glance, Markus seemed like your average, middle-aged man, but he was actually a top-tier cage fighter in his day. One wrong move against me or my father, and he'd rock your shit in a heartbeat. He was with my dad for as long as I could remember. Though, when I first met him, he was in his early twenties, and I was only a little girl. What I do remember is that I saw him more as a father figure than my own dad.

"Can you at least tell me where we're going?" I pleaded, giving him the best set of puppy eyes I've got.

He groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Peanut, that doesn't work on me anymore; you're grown."

I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest again. "If I'm grown, then stop calling me 'peanut.'"

"Never. You'll always be Peanut to me."

"Okay, Dad."

It was silent for a moment. Somehow, I knew exactly what he was going to say next. "Listen, Samara, about your dad . . ."

I was already shaking my head before he could finish. "I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, you adopted me."

"Don't say that. I took care of you, yes, but your dad is still your dad, and he loves you very much. If you just talk to him—"

I let the sound of my chair drown him out as I stood and grabbed my bag. "I've got a lot of homework to do. Tell him I'll go to the stupid meeting, but that's it. It was good to see you, Uncle Mark."