Clandestine | 18+

0~Him

Do I wanna know?- Arctic Monkeys

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"When two people shake hands, they need to be sure beforehand, because information comes after."

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I stormed out of his office, not giving a single word or explanation. Everyone was looking as I started running down the halls. I slowly smiled at the receptionist but I definitely didn't slow my speed. My high heels were killing my feet and my dress wasn't making it easier, so I just got off my heels, and started moving my legs faster. All heads turned to look in my direction.

I truly didn't care.

Furious, I finally could see where I first came from. Running down 27 floors wasn't easy. I was used to taking the stairs to not get caught by people I was assigned to kill, but I forgot that I could easily just have taken the elevator because this wasn't the fucking case.

Sighting, I lowered my head to look at my bare feet and red painted toes. Then I felt someone's chest hit my head, with the same speed as me.

My nose was officially broken.

"Fuck! My nose!" I immediately putted 2 hands covering my nose trying to ease the pain and lowered my straight posture. Not the time to be a lady.

I raised my head to the image of a man breathing heavily. His eyes staring deep into mine. Tall, about 6'1 foot, his jawline sharp, his hair wavy, messy, definitely from running his hands in his hair many times. He definitely didn't give off safety. He was wearing a black suit, a wine red rose placed in his right pocket positioned at his chest. Green eyes. Black hair. Cupid lips, pink and full. His hand running through his hair confirming my theory, full of veins. A ring, on his pointy finger. Black. His shoes definitely Giorgio Armani.

He said nothing. I scoffed.

"Do you have eyes? Or should I land you a pair?" I asked him my eyes filled with anger. "A sorry, maybe for starters? Or do you want one too? You seem pretty fine to me, even though I am the one that nearly got her nose broken." I said pretending to check him from head to toe.

I was mad. I would have said sorry if this was on a different occasion, but just finding out you are arranged to someone isn't really the best mood booster.

"Says the one walking bare foot." He responded back. His voice, so deep. But just because he had a good face and voice, and okay a good body didn't mean he could talk however the fuck he pleased.

"Uh, Miss Adler-" the sweet receptionist said but I didn't let her finish.

"Call me Estelle." I turned my head at the receptionist, and tried to smile. It was really faint, but she got the context.

"And by the way at least I am trying to walk, meanwhile you come here running in Giorgio Armani leather shoes knowing damn well when you run, those get ruined immediately. At least unlike your psychopath behavior, I am taking care of my shoes." I told him, irritated.

I just figured out I had an arranged marriage, then I stormed out of my dad's business partner office and didn't take neither the interview nor the elevator. Now, someone just broke my nose. Could this day get worse?

"Please, what do you know about Armani?" He coldly said. He was Italian.

"Mr. Alonzo, this is Estelle Adler Camelli." The receptionist smiled. I recall her name being Addie? No. Wait. I think I got it. Adeline. Right? Yes, yes it was Adeline.

"Nice to meet you." He said in the same tone he did before.

"The feeling of this meeting is definitely not mutual." I told him placing the heels on the ground and slipping them on.