My Girlfriend is a Gangster

19.

"I'm sorry about this, I was just emotional. I don't need you to tutor me. I'll find someone on my own." Camilia said to Sebastian. The last school bell had rang and they were standing outside his car, the Phantom.

He had his signature RayBans on, mouth in a straight line, face unreadable. Today, he looked especially cold and cool, like the Sebastian Howl people whispered about in the hallways at school. She expected him to shrug and let her go wallow in her miserable evening.

Instead he opened the door and said, "Get in."

The trip to his house had been mostly Camilia talking to Jorge, Sebastian's stoic but buff chauffeur. Camilia noticed the Knicks keychain and immediately they were chatting it up like old pals.

"They had the worst season of the decade but I will go down defending them if the Nets' fans come for them," Camilia said. Jorge chuckled which surprised Sebastian because Jorge had never been anything but stoic with Sebastian.

"Do not distract him while he's driving." Sebastian said bitterly. After which they rode to his swanky building in silence. 

The car parked underground the building and they took a private elevator to the penthouse floor. Only then Camilia was starting to see how much of a bad idea this was. Sebastian was going to see truly how dumb she was. Isn't there something in the playbook about not exposing your weakness to the enemy, even if the weakness in question was math.

When the elevator doors to the penthouse opened, Camilia gaped. 

The elevator opened up to a huge spacious room that spanned the width of the hotel. It was so big that there were three different sectionals placed strategically around the room. Several art pieces hung on the wall that at one point hung in museums. Stylish chandeliers hung from the ceiling that were twice the size of Camilia. Large cathedral like windows spaced the wall, giving an incredible view of the Hudson River, Empire State, Central Park and other landmarks. 

Sebastian picked the sectional near an minimalist designed staircase and the kitchen. Just by a quick glance the kitchen looked better than a restaurant kitchen and cleaner too, like it hadn't been used since its purchase.

The penthouse was quiet and gorgeous, yet there was an eerie silence that filled the house, like it was a staged house for sale. 

"Where are your parents?" Camilia asked, settling down two seats beside him. 

"My mum's dead and my father has his own place on fifth avenue."

The swift way he said it startled Camilia. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he said deadpan, as if he's said it million times before. "Do you want something to drink?"

Her eyes averted to the pristine kitchen, itching for a house tour. "Uh, water?"

She expected Sebastian to get up and fetch something from the kitchen but instead he leaned forward and pushed a bronze bell on the table. Ten seconds later, footsteps approached from the kitchen and a short middle-aged woman wearing a white apron came out. Her posture was pristine and her English accent was more pronounced than Sebastian's. 

"Yes, Mr. Howl."

"Dolores, can you get us two waters,"

"Fiji, Dasani, Evian?" 

Sebastian looked to Camilia and she stammered. "Any--any is fine." 

"Two Fijis," Sebastian answered. 

Dolores scurried back to the kitchen for the request.

Camilia was intimidated by how much wealth surrounded her. She could sell a closet in this penthouse and be a millionaire. No wonder he's such an asshole, she would be too if she had three different options of bottled water available with a ring of a bell.