Chapter 1

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Persey (Natalie)

"Persey." I was stopped in the middle of my usual Sunday morning shooting as I heard Andrew called for me. I put my gun down, removed my ear muffs, and turned to him. "James is here for breakfast." he informed me. That meant I had to prepare myself for his presence.

I left the little shooting range James had built in our basement years ago, and headed for the bedroom. I changed my attire into a floral dress thinking it would make me look more presentable to James. After I was done, I ventured the long journey towards the dining room, walking through the endless hallways and past groups of girls hanging outside of their designated rooms, and as always, it was awkward. My presence always seemed to attract their attention. Feeling their eyes piercing through my soul, I pretended not to be aware of them, and moved even faster.

In the dining room, I found James already seated at the end of the long table. I walked toward him, moving my hips side to side as my lips stretched into a smile. He pecked a kiss on my cheek before I sat on the chair perpendicular to his, and opposite to where his favorite assistant and valet, Andrew Wales, was sitting.

The same old scenario would go every single morning. It had always been James, Andrew and I who ate together and shared the silence. Only the clinking of our utensils as we stirred our coffees and sliced our food would be heard. I was used to it, especially with James, whom I had known to be a man of very few words.

"Persephone," James called to my surprise.

"Yes?" I answered, stopping halfway from shoving a small piece of blueberry pancake in my mouth.

"I went to the casino last night," he said.

"How was it?" I asked holding my mug of lukewarm coffee in both my hands.

"Terrible." I almost bawled when I heard the word. The last thing I wanted to hear from him was that he hadn't won. James was the type of man you never want to see furious.

"What happened?"

"Do you know Bruno Mars?" he asked. I stopped from eating and looked at him to check if he was serious. Wait. . . he's always serious. But who doesn't know Bruno Mars? He's practically everywhere! I thought to myself. I was not an avid fan, but I listened to the pop star.

"Bruno Mars? The Grenade guy?" I asked. I could feel my heart pick up speed.

"He's a pain in the ass." James muttered and the table fell into silence. "I lost a lot of money last night. . . because of that overrated singer." He dumped a large amount of syrup on his pancake. "I want my money back, Persephone! I want you to do something to get them back!" he ordered, and I swallowed hard. "Will you do it for me?" he asked looking at me straight in the eyes like he always would.

There was a short pause before I could answer. "Anything for my husband." I smirked. "Just give me some time."

***

I sighed at my reflection in my door-length mirror. Alone in my bedroom, I sat at my vanity table at six in the evening wondering about my plan of stealing back James's money from Bruno Mars. I didn't want to do this but I had to. I never wanted to disappoint James because I know what the consequences would be. Besides, he was the only reason why I was still living. If it wasn't for him I could've died in hunger and without a home. I kept thinking to myself that Bruno was just an artist; the same Michael Jackson wanna-be that everyone sadly tolerates. Not a big deal, right? He doesn't matter. I thought to myself as I brushed my long, bone-straight hair.

Three hard taps on the door caused me to jump nearly two feet off my chair. "Who is it?" I asked.

"It's Andrew." The voice beyond the door said. "Are you decent?"

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