Becoming Mrs Ashbourne

Twenty

The driver dropped me off a few hours ago and he's still not back. Not that I care but I'm human.

I kill tme by watching some cheesy romance about a woman who loses her memory. I don't know when I fell asleep but when I wake up,I'm starving.

I walk into the kitchen and everything is so sophisticated. The cabinets are stacked and the stove is electric,unlike the one mother uses.

After an hour of confusion,I manage to turn on the stove.
All the ingredients are new to me and the only ones I recognise are carrots, tomatoes and lettuce.
I proceed to make whatever food that enters my head.

"What're you doing awake?" I hear someone's voice behind me and when I turns,the shock causes me to drop my plate.
Cairus' face is bloody and his lips is busted. His suit is also torn and bloody.

"Wh-wha-what happened to you?!" I manage to make out words. My legs inch closed to him and before I realise it,my fingers are touching his face.

"Don't touch me." He sneers and hits my hand. It hurts but I don't let him know.

"You're hurt." I respond and he scoffs.

"It's normal,I don't need you care for me." He spits angrily.

I know it's his ego talking so I choose not to mind him.

I place a bowl under the faucet and fetch a little bit of water before dipping in a towel.
I gently dab his face with it and he tries to break away from my touch but I hold him still.

"I know you don't like me but let me help you. You're hurt." I whisper.

"Could you a least get off my lap?" He quirks an eyebrow up and it's then I realise I'm on his laps. A blush creeps up onto my cheeks and I get up a little too quickly, causing my to lose my balance and the next time I see is blood.

Red blood.

I have accidentally stepped in the broken ceramic and it hurts like hell.
I cover my mouth with my hand to prevent myself from screaming and I can see the amused expression on his stupid face and I want to slap to off.

"It's not funny." I wince and he bites his lip to suppress a laugh.
Why does he look handsome doing that?

"Who'll nurse the nurse now?" He jokes and gets off the chair.

"Sit still." He commands and walks out of the kitchen.
He returns and I'm sure he went to the bathroom because he's holding a pail,some wipes ,tweezers and I'm guessing, disinfectant.

"No,it'll hurt." I complain but he grabs hold of my leg, causing me to freeze.
"Why are you still wearing my clothes?" He asks in annoyance.

Do I really have to remind him that I have no clothes.

"You said you'd get my stuff,you didn't. Instead,you show up looking like you got beat up by the Mafia and now we're both hurt." I shout and he pulls a shard of the ceramic a little too quickly, causing me to shout again.

"That'll teach you to shut up." He chuckles devilishly.

After an hour of complaints and pain,he finally bandages the wound and let's go off my leg.
"I'll take you to a doctor tomorrow. But for now,I guess you can limp about,no?" He teases while slowly walking away.

"Hey,get back here!" I shout and try to move but the leg keeps throbbing in pain so I limp.

(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

"Woah dude you look like.." Everett doesn't conclude his sentence and I cut him off.

"...Like I got beat up by th mafia." 

He throws his head back and lets out a laugh.

"Mya said that?" He asks and I nod.

He shakes his head and says, "You two make a cute couple. And I'm sure you're going to have even cuter babies."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch dude."

"What do you have to tell me about our current situation. I got attacked by Arista yesterday and I'm sure father is going to flip his shit when he hears about it." I ask him,our lightened mood switching back to that of seriousness.

"We'll,I finally got intel on Venetio." Everett turns the swivel chair and pushes it to where a computer is connected to a huge screen in my home office.
He types in the passcode and clicks on a file, revealing the sick bastard's face.

"He runs a Latin mob known as 'Famillia Bellatorum'. It's said that they're the most ruthless mob in the underworld and they kill everything in their way. Man,woman or child."

Anger surges in me. This man is sick.

"Apart from that,he has some 'legitimate' business going on. But I'm sure it's just to divert attention."
"What business?" I ask.
"He owns a restaurant. 'La Bellis Purpurea." He clicks another file and it shows this huge restaurant with its name plastered on it in a classical curvaceous handwriting.

"This was a footage taken discreetly by one of the moles who got killed a day later."
He shows a video.
In the video,a little girl of about fourteen is being dragged in a black car.

"Apparently,he likes to have sick fun with underages. And there are suspicions that he's keeping some hostage."

This guy has so much shit on him.

"He works with his brother. He supplies him with weapons and shit. His drug suppliers are the Russians and Irish. He has shady connections with some of the most corrupted politicians and police officers in the city." He concludes.

"Is that all?"

"That's all we have at the moment."

This is good. It little but good.

All I need now is an insider. And we're set.