"you're way too hot to be acting like that"
•••
When I opened the front door, I noticed today's newspaper rolled up into a tube, tightly held with an elastic band. I bent down to pick it up, wondering what the headline could be.
I stepped back inside the mansion and shut the door behind me, walking towards the formal dining room. My heels clicked on the stone floors of the entrance as I moved to the long wooden corridor that led me into the spacious room, where a large table with various seats was right in the centre.
A wide window was letting in natural light, illuminating the entire room. Ten modern chairs were propped against the table, five on each side, and a white rug was placed underneath the furniture. A small chandelier was hanging from the ceiling that, when needed, brightened everything clearly.
I sat down on one of the middle seats and opened the newspaper. My eyes scanned the printed ink quickly and sharply: 'Handless Thief Strikes Again'. I groaned; what did he do this time?
I read through the article, getting more frustrated as I engulfed myself deeper and deeper into the written lines. I was about to finish when I abruptly heard someone clear their throat.
I snapped my attention away from the story in my hands and met Andrew Moreno's brown eyes. He had become my boss a couple of months ago, and I enjoyed working under him so far.
My heart stopped when I noticed his expression; he did not look happy at all. He was definitely not cross with me since I was only doing my job; unless I had forgotten a task that he had asked me to do. I was about to open my mouth to speak when his lips broke into a smile. I stared at him in confusion.
"Didn't I tell you today's headlines were going to be about me?" he laughed. I eased my shoulders in relief; he was not annoyed, good.
Andrew Moreno, widely known as the Handless Thief, resembled anything but a criminal; his brown hair and dark eyes made him average looking and made him get considered a handsome man.
Except for his vast collection of tattoos and the fact that he was living a double life, everything about him was relatively normal; a healthy, fit gentleman that happened to be extremely rich at the young age of twenty-four. Nothing too odd about that.
"I would have known if you told me what you were planning on doing," I rolled my eyes and slowly stood up, placing my hands on top of the newspaper lying flat on the table, "Robbing a bank? Seriously? This is not the time to steal thousands only for fun." He scoffed.
"Will you relax? It wasn't only for fun," he air quoted. I crossed my arms across my chest.
"Oh, really?" I asked sarcastically, "Then what was the reason behind it?" Andrew parted his lips to reply, but I did not give him a chance. "Because last time I checked your bank account, you do not need money. And when I am not informed of your next atrocity, that means you were probably bored when you committed it." He smiled.
"They are not atrocities," he mocked my accent and neared the table, "They are-" Andrew stopped and grabbed the newspaper from the surface. "- 'notably planned and perfected heists'." He read the article I had been immersed in mere moments ago. "They still don't know who I am, so we are all clear, love." He folded it neatly and threw it back onto the table. I sighed, still irritated.
"You cannot keep risking your identity like this," I reproached him, "And stop calling me love; I am your assistant; act professionally for once." I grabbed the newspaper and smoothly walked into the kitchen next door; he followed me.
It was immense, with white marble counters and a matching island. I opened one of the cabinets below it and tossed the paper inside into the recycling container.
Andrew sat down on one of the stools belonging to the island and placed his elbows on it. Behind him, the casual dining room was surrounded by window panels; that was where we spent most of our time.
"So formal," he murmured to himself, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, "Sometimes too formal." I ignored him.
"Why were you looking for me?" I inquired and leaned against the counter behind me.
"Who said I was looking for you?" Andrew smirked and placed the cigarette in his mouth before lighting it, "I didn't know you thought so highly of yourself."
"You knew I was in the dining room, so you were looking for me," I stated, "What is it now?"
"You know me too well," he smiled, "I have a proposition for you." I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head to the side with curiosity.
"What kind of proposition?" I said, "It is probably something simple yet foolish, is it not?" He stood from the seat, chuckling, and walked around the island, stopping right in front of me. "And I already told you to stop smoking inside."
"No, actually," he began, running a hand through his dark hair and neglecting my protests, "I need you to travel with me." My mind went blank, forgetting about the smoke, and my eyes instinctively widened. I had never travelled with Andrew since I had begun working for him, so this was definitely a peculiar proposal.
"I am sorry," I replied, "What?"
"Did I stutter?" he laughed, biting his lip.
"No, you did not," I stated, slowly pulling myself back together, "And where would we be going?"
"It's a business trip," he said, taking a drag out of his cigarette, "To Las Vegas." Not being able to suppress it any longer, a scoff escaped me.
"Las Vegas? For business? Really?" I asked. He nodded.
"I'm planning a huge job," Andrew said, "I need you to come with me; I can't plan this shit alone." I sighed.
"You did not need help planning yesterday's job, did you?" I accused him, "And can you please put that out?"
"Aw, come on," he ruffled my hair, "You can't stay mad at me forever because of a spontaneous robbery."
"Yes, I can," I removed his hand from my head, "But I will not." I looked at him. "I will go."
"It was never an option, love," Andrew smirked, finally putting the cigarette out.
"Stop that," I pointed my finger at him, "I am your-"
"Assistant," he finished for me, "I know, I was the one who hired you." He smiled. "I wasn't intending on you being so serious."
"I am doing my job," I frowned and grabbed my tablet from its charging spot on the counter, "Give me the trip's details so I can plan it accordingly."
"We need to leave in a few days," he stated, "And we will be gone for two weeks; hope that doesn't overlap with any of your affairs."
"It does not," I replied, "I will let Connor know so he can get the jet ready in advance." I snapped my eyes back to Andrew. "What exactly are you going to do in Vegas?"
"The biggest heist of all times," I looked into his eyes, and I swore I could see them sparkling under the natural light coming in from the windows, "I will tell you everything on the flight."
"Fine," I replied, "Connor is informed, and I already cancelled all of your meetings for the next couple of weeks." I stopped. "Or would you like to have them online?"
"No, fuck them," Andrew said, "They are way too boring."
"Then, they are cancelled." I turned off the tablet and returned it to its place on the counter. "Now, let us discuss yesterday's robbery."
"I thought you were over it?" he said, pulling himself up onto the marbled surface.
"I only want to know how you managed to successfully rob a bank so spontaneously," I asserted, and Andrew gasped exaggeratedly.
"Are you admitting that it was not an atrocity after all?" he inquired, smirking.
"I did not say that," I replied imperatively, "I still believe it was idiotic for you to do such a thing, but I am wondering how a dumb move turned out successful."
"Well," he started, "I only raided the arsenal and drove to the bank." He went silent, and I stared at him, waiting for him to continue his explanation, but after noticing he was done, I sighed.
"Is that it?" I asked, and he nodded, running a hand through his hair, "You went into the bank alone and did not get killed?"
"Yes, that's how I work when I'm bored," he shrugged and raised an eyebrow, "Did you expect something else, Sab?"
"No," I replied, "And do not call me Sab."
"Damn," Andrew said, "I can't even call you by your name? Too professional, love." I looked at him sternly.
"You can call me Sabrina," I made a move to exit the room, "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to pack." He caught my wrist in his hand, preventing me from leaving.
"Wait," he said, letting go, "I need to give you something first." I curiously watched him as he motioned for me to follow him. We walked back to the foyer of the mansion, and he took me downstairs to the basement.
We walked past the garage door and extra bedrooms, going directly into the movie theatre. Andrew stopped on the side door next to the cinema's screen and opened it swiftly.
"After you," he said as he held the door for me. I stepped into the room as he accompanied me close behind and locked it with his handprint. I knew what this room was, but I did not understand why he had taken me there.
"What are we doing here?" I asked, expressing my confusion, not looking at him. He walked past me into the place's core.
"I need to give you something," he repeated what he had said moments ago and began searching around. I stood firmly in place and waited for a further explanation. As soon as I realised I was not getting one, I joined him in the middle of the room.
"Why are we in the arsenal, Andrew?" I crossed my arms. He was standing next to a tall shelf that bore black rifles, looking down into a transparent showcase.
His bare arms hovered over the glass before he pressed his thumb against the lock and opened it. He dug his tattooed hand into the cabinet and took out a black handgun.
"Here," he said, checking if it was loaded as he walked towards me, "I'll give you the ammunition later; take it for now." I kept my hands where they were and stared at the gun.
"What do I need this for?" I asked cautiously.
"The heist I'm preparing might get a bit dangerous," he explained, "I really don't feel like risking you getting hurt, or worse, dying." Andrew winked arrogantly. "Do you know how to use it?" He was treating me like a child, and I hated when he addressed me as weak.
"Of course I do," I declared, "You requested that all of your employees know how to handle these in your job requirements." I motioned to the gun.
"Then why aren't you taking it, Sabrina?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow as he looked into my eyes.
"It has been a long time since I last gripped a gun," I met his gaze, challenging him to test my knowledge again. He unexpectedly seized my hand and placed the weapon in it, putting his other hand on top of my fingers.
"There." My hand welcomed the old feeling of the gun's metal and my finger's position on the trigger. Andrew removed his hands from mine and stared down at it, analysing the placement of my forefinger. "Relax, love, there is nobody out for you in here."
"I know," I breathed, "I am only remembering." He smiled.
"Glad you are," Andrew said, "Let's go back; I need to finish planning this job."
•••
first chapter omg, i hope you like it! dont forget to vote and comment; it really motivates me to continue the story :)
farewell,
miss lp