𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

51 || The Unlucky One

I didn't give a shit if I was ignoring my prior business arrangements, or if I was blowing off deals with the Italians - more so Alessio Galanti - to sit here, in my chair, dwindling the tin container filled with that blissful white powder in my hand, while watching a live feed of the GPS I'd had engraved into Bambi's phone.

There was nothing more I wanted than to drown myself in a good high but I couldn't in fear of leaving her vulnerable.

I was giving her space. Which meant, making her think Id leave her alone.

There was no way I'd actually do it.

I was in love, not a dumbass - although the more I thought about those two words, the more they felt like synonyms of each other.

But the fact of the matter is that I'd be a fool to leave the safety of someone so important in the hands of a washed up golden retriever and human chopstick with one functioning arm.

She had a target on her back.

Rosso's necklace was a warning to those who knew better than to touch something that belonged to him, but I wasn't going to be taking my chances.

I'd slaughter the family of anyone who thought to touch her.

I stare at the computer screen as the little dot begins to show its first sight of movement.

The GPS is accurate, so accurate that I'd know if she'd gotten up and walked to her bathroom with her phone which means that right now, she's walking towards the elevator.

I sit up in my chair.

The faint sound of the elevator groaning as it moving up floats down the hall, through my office door and the sound of the wonky sounding machine has something weird happening in my chest.

I straighten out, slip the tin in my pocket and check my phone one last time.

I'd caved and sent her three simple texts over the past twenty seven hours, forty minutes and twelve seconds.

Come back.

Everything's yours.

I still owe you 80k.

But all I got was nothing.

I make it to the elevator, and force nonchalance in my posture.

The doors open, only instead of soft brown eyes and a face pretty enough to make my my chest ache, I'm greeted by her grinning sidekick. "Hello."

I keep the fury out of my voice as I asses the girl from head to toe. She had Bambi's key card and her phone. I reach forward and snatch Josie's phone from Shakespeare hands. "Why the fuck do you have this?"

"Josie's given me her cellular telephone." She smiles at me, there's a duffle bag in her hand and I eye it, "And she told me you were letting us move back in here. She isn't coming, but she said I could come back."

I stare at her.

The invitation was for Bambi and Bambi only.

There was no fucking way I was rooming with a girl who referred to my penthouse as the top of the world and genuinely believed it.