Angelo
I practically fly to my speakeasy. It really has become my safe space in such a short amount of time. Every little inch of it really is a fairytale. The location, interior and staff are all phenomenal. I'm super proud of everything me and my team have accomplished so far.
Things can only get better
These people are most definitely my family away from home. It isn't even an exaggeration. The other day I had felt extremely homesick, a deep feeling of helplessness engulfed me like the plague. I was stuck in such a slump, maybe even borderline spiralling.
This led to my employees throwing me an after-hours surprise party. It was such an amazing experience, something I will really treasure for a long time.
All the little details of the party still make me feel immense giddiness inside. A mix of happiness and lightheadedness. From the white and gold decorations to the strawberry tarts, they had got everything absolutely spot on.
It has been such a short amount of time since I arrived here, but every single person has taken the time out to get to know me. Throughout the party, people randomly came up to me and told me their reasoning for throwing my party.
"You're amazingly kind."
"We know you you're from a different country but we wanted you to feel at home here"
"You looked a bit down the other day."
"Best boss ever!"
Those are just a few kind words from supposed strangers. Yet strangely they weren't strangers anymore, far from it.
Originally, I came to the speakeasy for the purpose of completing a few small tasks. Looking around at all the kind faces, I realise there's something else to do.
I have to thank these amazing people that excel in what they do. People could easily point out that they do it for money. That wouldn't be wrong but no one pays them for being great human beings.
" Spencer , can you please gather everyone up for me."
Standing near the dance floor, my people surround me with big smiles.
"Hey everyone! I just want to thank you all for the work you put in to make opening night amazing. I couldn't have done it without each and every one of you. E-magazine wants to put Pearlescent on the front cover."
The room explodes into cheers and claps as I continue, "Anyway keep up the great work everyone. We have our theme night coming up as well. That's all, I'll let you all get back to work."
They all disperse as I feel a warm feeling of contentedness drown me. In school, teachers would repeatedly ask you where you imagine yourself in 5 years. This is exactly what I had imagined and more. Minus the no family part.
I practically skip to my office, feeling a rare high of happiness. It's almost as if I'm a child again. The room is a combination grandeur and modern. Two things that shouldn't work together but in this case they really do.
All the walls are painted the darkest shade of blue with golden accents. A tear drop chandelier really adds an element of excitement. I jump into my swivel chair, situated next to a large cream desk. Admiring the room, I feel power course through my body like it's been injected into my bloodstream.
You're in control Angelo, look at you now.
My boss moment is cruelly snatched away when I notice a envelope on my desk. Obviously, I open it. It must be for me if it's on my desk.
I cautiously read the letter out loud.
Dear unwanted one,
What the fuck, who starts a letter off like that. I carry on.
You'll leave New York immediately, someone like you should've never have set foot in this city. My main reasoning is that you don't know the pecking order.
If I find you have not listened to my orders, there will be hell to pay.
What the hell? I feel several emotions all at once like a giant tsunami. Anger, sadness and fear. This city feels like home, there's no way I would leave. Who would go out of their way to scare me off?
There's so many possibilities but one name is ringing frantically in my head. I struggle with my reasoning to blame this person. Such a disastrous dilemma.
I've only met him one, is it enough to think it's him?Or am I stretching here? I recount how everyone worshipped him the other night and most of all how he wanted respect.
I doubt he'd want to hurt me but I've been wrong before. About many different people.
It's probably Aleksander.
Everything adds up-to him. I take out my phone and quickly call my tracker.
"Hey, it's Angelo"
"How can I help you today, Sir"
"I need you to find me an address, his name is Alexander...."
My anger has fueled my body to travel to the other side of New York. At this point, all my fear has evaporated. All I want to do is scream at his ridiculously handsome face. Currently, I'm in front of a unnecessarily large house. A grand fusion of black and windows. I can't bring myself to like it, It's obnoxious just like the owner.
Someone wearing a suit comes towards. Clearly, Alexander has the brains to hire security. A sudden glimmer catches my eyes. The more I look the more I realise it's a gun. I have to be more careful of my surroundings.
"Hello, do you have a meeting Mr Vasiliev?" he interrogates me in a robotic tone. No sign of any facial expression and absolutely no smile.
It doesn't kill to be kind. Hmph!
To counter, I give him a sweet smile before replying, "No, I don't but-"
"Sorry Sir, if you're one of his fans I have to ask you to leave or I'll have to call the police."
The audacity of this man. One of his fans, please. There's more of a chance an apocalypse would occur. I offer him a scoff to his outlandish claim. I've had it up to here with rude people but I hold it in. My papa raised me to always be kind, you never know a person's situation.
You have to kill them with kindness
In a confident tone, I reply with a clear, "No."
"He is an extremely busy man."
My final fucking straw. I'm busy too but instead of completing my important tasks, I'm having to deal with this man. This experience will probably become my villain origin story.
It's hilarious that his staff think he's sunshine and daisies. The perfect businessman with actual fans. Who would have thought?
Ha. Don't make me laugh.
Before realising, I mindlessly blurt out, "I do have a meeting. If you don't believe me call your boss and ask him."
An obvious lie, but he believes me and starts to call someone. My foot frantically taps on the floor. When he finds out that we don't have a meeting, I'll be dragged off the premises like some criminal...Or I could make a break for it now.
As I weigh up my tragic options, their conversation trickles into my ears.
"Mr Vasiliev, there's a young man here to see you........I have told him to leave but he claims he has a meeting with you.....Ok."
He instantly turns to me like a flash of awakened thunder.
"What's your name, young man?"
I reply instantly feeling fed up, "Angelo. Now tell your boss to hurry up, I don't have all day."
"Sir, his name is Angelo... Ok, I'll send him up."
"He's waiting for you inside."
The gates are thrown open as I aggressively stomp my way in. The panelled hallways stretch far away almost like a stadium. Wall lamps gracefully light my journey to hell as a butler leads me to the awaiting devil.
Eventually, I reach the room Aleksander is supposedly in. The man is lazily sprawled across a plush sofa as I struggle for breath. Maybe walking that fast wasn't such an amazing idea. The room is black with gold accents. Contrary to popular belief this black area doesn't look like something Dracula owns. It looks powerful and grand.
My eyes wander to his face, something about it sends me into a fit of rage. There's something obnoxiously smug about it.
"Why are you smiling like a fool," I practically screech, crossing my arms across my chest.
A low chuckle confidently escapes him. Clearly, my anger amuses him. I send him the biggest glare I can muster.
"I'm glad you took your time out to come find me, sweet angel." He sits upright on the sofa beckoning with his hand for me to come over.
Clearly, he's lost a few brain cells but I decide to entertain his wildest dreams. It is all just fun and games. I make my way to the sofa, situating myself directly next to him
" I did..and I got lost," I mumble out with a pout.
Raising an eyebrow, he presses on, "Really."
I nod my head looking at the ground, he reaches forwards and gently strokes my hair. This feels good, it's making me feel sleepy. Oh, no.
"I'll make sure that next time my guards let you in straight away."
"mmm," I offer in agreement.
Time to fix this dreadful situation. As he continues his gentle stroking, I grab his hand to pull myself away.
" Y...You...Imbecile!"
"Strong words sweetheart," he counters in a deep voice. That sound would make any person weak in the knees. There's an soft smoothness yet it has an obvious dominance about it.
"How dare you continue to mindlessly flirt with me, when you know what you've done! I will not be threatened by someone like you...I won't."
My voice breaks as the last few words come out. I hate fighting, arguing and confrontations, but if I'm backed into a wall there's only one option.
"Angel look at me," he orders me but I choose to ignore him.
Aleksandr shocks me by carrying on, "Look into my eyes and tell me you actually believe I did that."
His vivid green orbs hold a rainforest of truth. Part of me was well aware of the possibility he didn't write the letter. So why am I here?
A/N
Any theories on who wrote that letter?
Next chapter Angelo will continue Alek's grilling 👀
Also I'm thinking of changing the stories name to 'Angel and his Mafia Don'
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Thank you for reading :)