Crossing the gangster

chapter 3

Though pink was not my favourite colour and it was evident in the splashes here and there, it did not overwhelm the room and instead helped to brighten it up. In a nutshell, the room was breathtakingly gorgeous and better than what I had back in my old house.

I turned to Isabelle, who stood at the edge of the door, a few steps away from where I had wandered off to. She had a smile on her face as she watched me and let out a slight chuckle at my awe-struck expression.

"I had hoped you would like this, I designed it myself," She prided and I nodded my head with a slight dip of my chin, still entranced by the fact that this room was going to be where I resided.

If I could just forget the whole I had been brought here against my will by a man anyone would piss their pants if they crossed, I would have actually enjoyed living here. But sadly, not all dreams were meant to come through.

"I'm going to leave you to unpack and will be back in two hours to retrieve you for dinner. Chris hates being tardy to I would encourage you to be changed by the time I come," Came Izzy's voice followed by the click of the door as it was shut behind her.

I took my time in unpacking all my belongings into the space provided, glancing at the clock to realise that an hour and forty five minutes had flown by easily. Folding up my foldable suitcases and placing them in the corner of the room, I took a glance at myself in the mirror. Immediately, I cringed at what I saw in my reflection.

The messy bun that I had tied my hair into in the morning had come loose and locks of my hair were escaping its previous hold. The sleeves of the long sleeve shirt I had thrown on were rolled up amidst my unpacking and a layer of sweat coated my forehead.

Letting out a slight sigh, I retrieved what I deemed as a suitable outfit for dinner stylish yet comfortable pair of grey sweatpants and a white short-sleeve top. I had just tied my hair up into a ponytail as a knock resounded and grabbed a denim jacket. It was currently autumn, nearing winter here and the temperature was forever fluctuating.

I swung open the door just as the person standing in front poised to knock again.
What surprised me though was that it was Chris and not Isabella. His eyes were on his watch, foot tapping impatiently as he waited for me.

Of course, despite my hatred for him, I wasn't blind. Chris was the rough kind of hot, with piercings and what not. It was no surprise that he turned heads whenever he walked because matched with the captivating aura he held, he was a sight for sore eyes. Yet I knew that me falling for him after all he's done was an impossible thing.

He was dressed in a casual top and jeans and I was slightly relieved because if he was in a suit I would be sorely out of place. Wearing a suit to dine at home, what were you thinking Hazel, I chided myself internally. Though, he had worn a suit to retrieve me so who knew what he was like...

The minute I had stepped out of my room, he walked off, long strides down the hallway. I tutted my tongue as I followed him, at least he could have the courtesy to wait. Though as I finally matched his pace as we neared the stairs, my eyes caught onto his right arms, the upper part of which was covered in tattoos.

Typical, I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't stop the slight flutter of my heart at the sight of it. Since young, tattoos were my weak spot when it came to guys. But not this man, I reminded myself. He had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.

The dining room, as I expected, was beautiful as well. Though the table, capable of seating roughly twenty people, was quite big for the three of us. What was he, a gangster or a prince? Though the table wasn't laid for anyone and chris strode right past to the kitchen.

Isabella was cooking up a meal with a frown on her face, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. Though when she saw us, a smile flitted across her face and she waved us over. As I neared her, I saw she was cooking pasta.

I hadn't had that in a very long time, I thought to myself as my mouth watered. Before all of this, I worked at a gym. A fighting gym, to be exact, where I trained people for matches. But in order to do so, I had to be fit myself and hence the strict diet that I re-inforced on myself.

Though I have no clue if I can go back to my job now that I am here and I don't think it would harm to have a dish of pasta just once, especially seeing as it was already made.

There was a smaller table in the kitchen, for four, and three set mats were laid out. Chris took the one chair where he sat alone on one side, typing away on his phone busily, as I went to help Isabella.

She was nearly done by the time I went to her side and so I brought the three plates over to her to get plated. She smiled gratefully before giving us generous heaps of food, taking two plates and leaving me to take my own.

I sat down next to her and we ate in comfortable silence, though chris eyes remained glued to his screen. He could do whatever he wanted for all I care, it's not like I wanted to strike up a conversation with him either.

He was the reason for the change in my lifestyle, one that I would happily trade to continue living how I was. It wasn't that I had a fabulous life before all of this but the sole factor alone that I had no say in anything to do with MY life, made me slightly on the edge.

What happens if I run away?

Character aesthetic for hazel

Hazel's room

TBC
Do vote and comment ✧✧