From a young age many children are certain on one's future profession that they may pursue. Whether that may be, an astronaut, a police officer, or many other things whatever your heart desired. I remember the soft-spoken words from an elderly woman. The way she crouched down to my level, grinning widely, a smile plastering on her wrinkled face.
"What would you like to be when you grow up, dear?" Her words caught me quite off guard. One of the many questions someone asks multiple times to ensure one's future. Or – to see how creative one's child might be. In this case, I wasn't as creative as the others.
A painted expression on my face hadn't bothered the last. But the response I was about to give this poor older woman. Sure, would have, I shifted my body weight onto my other leg. Standing up on my tippy toes. Pointing to a large billboard.
"Whatever he wants me to be". My words stunning the lady a gasp following soon after. A cold-blooded murderer, a man I once knew – rather well. It was safer to say that my answer wasn't exactly what an older woman like her would expect. Especially from a seven-year-old. Who had no rhyme nor reason to know how truly terrible her father was.
Someone's fate being decided based on who their parents were at the time? Very idiotic, but how could have I known better? Before any of us knew it, the same man pulled me away from the older woman. Being scolded for conversing with "strangers".
Even now, at the ripe age of twenty-five. My answer still remains the same. My eyes staring at the freshly painted cream walls. Zoning back into reality, listening to the sheer silence consume the entirety of the room. One leg resting over the other. My dress draped over my knees.
My hands folded politely over them, while waiting for Mr. Esposito to arrive. The dark oak doors opened with a large thud. The doors practically cried out from being so old. Someone needed to fix them up desperately before they had given out.
I turned around staring at the three men who decided to grace themselves in my presence. James, Mr. Esposito and – someone? Within the first moment I had, this someone was my priority. His features are very broad and overbearing. He was handsome without a doubt, that goes without saying a guy looking very much like him. I knew deep down he meant trouble.
He was taller than both men, only slightly. But, just enough to pass over either of them. The emerald eyes he owned never once met mine. It didn't take a lot to realize how annoyed he – was becoming.
Ignoring how ignorant the other was. I stood up fixing my dress, engulfing Mr. Esposito in a comforting embrace. Watching how quickly he ditched his own cane to hug me. "It's nice to see you alive and well sir". I spoke, hearing the familiar chuckle I've yearned to hear since his accident.
My comment sparked a slight smile on his face. Our embrace breaking, his hand resting back on his cane. "I couldn't leave you kiddo not even for a single second".
A smile is now forming on my own face. "It would be pretty upsetting if you did sir" he shakes his head momentarily at my words. Before clearing his throat moving out of the way. Revealing the under half of the mystery man. "I'd like you to meet my son Marco", he introduces me to the man.
Immediately my hand swings outwards. A large smile embracing itself. His face became recognizable from the photos hanging up around – Mr. Esposito's office. Marco's green eyes flash to meet mine. Instead of a broad inviting look. Marco shunned me with a cold and brooding gaze.
If looks could kill, I was rather sure that I would be six feet under if that were the case. He hadn't bothered to even extend his hand to shake it. Practically ignoring the underlying fact that my hand was even extended in his general direction.
Marco's sudden actions caused a smaller eyeroll from Mr. Esposito. He continues walking, showing somewhat of a disappointed look in his son's direction. I retracted my hand, clearing my throat. I shifted my body towards the front of the desk.
"As you know, I will be retiring as of tomorrow". Mr. Esposito started; I could feel my heart beating rapidly. Something slowly sinking down in my gut. A new family, someone that I wasn't exactly and truly ready for – again. He finds comfort in his chair. Looking directly at me, I gulp nervously.
"Marco is taking over my position as of tomorrow morning. I'm quite positive on how overwhelmed you may be''. His pause startled me, my gaze adverting everywhere but his eyes.
"No need to fret, Marco is going to look after you from this day forward". Mr. Esposito's words stunning me and Marco. The wave of relief decided to mentally slap me in the face.
Obviously, I wasn't as naive. I knew the treatment that I received from Mr. Esposito was never going to be as near the attention I would receive from Marco. That came with the territory that I wasn't ready to face yet, for me to stay in the comfort of my own home; treading lightly was adding itself onto the long list of many things to avoid.
"The first day you arrived here. We asked you questions, just as that day. We will do the same as before today." James informs me, his brown eyes glancing to meet mine. Marco and James walk behind Mr. Esposito's desk.
James Willock, Mr. Esposito's right-hand man. Someone he trusted more than his own son. A very attractive man to say the least. His blonde hair with a tinge of gray accents in it; slicked back with his truthfully stunning brown eyes. Don't gawk at the guy Mari. I changed my focus waiting for the questions I've dreaded.
"What is your full name?" The first question rang out echoing through the room. That was super easy.
"Aleah Raine Franco". I could feel the inked marker frame and line my forehead with LIAR. Directly onto it.
"Date of birth and how old are you?"
"March sixth, nineteen-ninety-seven. I'm currently twenty-five years of age".
"How tall are you?"
"Five' eight without heels. Five' ten with heels".
The questions continue to bombard me. Asking personal questions and rather deep diving into my entire personal life. As if I truly had one, everything I owned and did was constantly watched. On full display for everyone's naked eye. Especially if you work for bosses like this.
Without a doubt, I noticed rather quickly as I caught Marco's attention. My vulgar word choice was enough to catch him staring on more than one instance.
"Where were you born?" James transitions away from the weirder questions.
"San Marino, Italy".
"Who was your last caregiver before Mario Esposito?"
Oh, I know this one, the boogey-man.
"Carlos Cruz".
"When did you first immigrate to America and join this side of the world?" He made it seem as if this was some other world. Honestly, I wish maybe I could swap between both worlds. I would be deemed as a 'normal' person.
"I was adopted at three months old. I've lived in New York since then". My words were in fact true, besides the countless trips spent to God knows where. Somehow, I never ended up living the lavish life up in Italy like it was sought out for me to.
"How many holders have you had?" James renounces the question. "Nineteen, Marco will be the twentieth". James gives me a toothy grin in response, his hands tucked into his slack pockets.
"We are all set here thanks". His words linger in my head, as if I had an option anyway. I return the smile in his favor. Mr. Esposito stands up holding his cane close by his side.
"Marco can talk to you about your arrangements". Mr. Esposito shot me a quick glance. He earned a curt nod signaling that everything is under control. James and Mr. Esposito excused themselves leaving the room.
I shifted my body back towards Marco. Who seemed to already be comfortable in his father's office chair. Fishing in his slacks for a packet of cigarettes. The uncomfortable silence became almost unbearable.
Marco placed the cigarette in between his plump lips. Putting a light, he puffs out a cloud of smoke in my direction. My nose is scrunching, clinging to the familiar smell. I played with one of my rings avoiding – the silence.
The desk being the only object dividing us. "I can leave if you –", Marco abruptly cuts me off. His hand flies up stopping me. Or he possibly had liked a high five. Either way, I liked my life a little more than the next guy and my theory might have been wrong.
"I'm thinking", he speaks up for the first time. A thick Italian accent follows. My jaw practically hits the floor at how he sounds. I waited in whatever silence had to offer. Which wasn't very much. I'll take whatever I can get.
Marco flicks a bud off his cigarette into the ashtray. Looking at my figure, more like eye-fucking me. I shift uncomfortably, take a picture, it might last longer...creep. He seemed displeased at what he was looking at. I followed his gaze, realizing his eyes were fixated on the ring – I wore comfortably on my ring finger.
The ring didn't look like much to others. Nor was it fancy and decked out to the hills. Just something I received as a child.
"I don't think you're supposed to be married". Marco rubs his very evident stubble. My mouth opened ready to speak. Nothing managed to release itself. I closed my mouth feeling the waves of confusion bury me.
"Marriage isn't on the table at all for me. It's a ring from a family member". I explain by showing off the golden band. It was worn, very scratched and quite outdated. It had to be more than a decade old.
He stops pausing, staring at the golden band once more. The emerald eyes he owned found my hazel ones. Looking at me as if I was clinically insane for wearing something so worn.
"Are you my father's whore or something?"
His words stunning me almost instantly. Cutting deeper than intended. "Pardon?" My questioning tone is full of shaky quivers. "Are you my father's –" He begins to insult me once more. I stopped him sitting up in my seat.
"Absolutely not, my sole purpose is for myself to be at your disposal. Whatever that may include, I can do it". I hadn't known this guy for nearly an hour yet. His judgmental tone and attitude took over faster than imagined.
I fix my broken posture, Mr. Esposito and I would never do something like that. Especially physically, he and I worked on a professional level. Anything closer than that our contract would have been terminated.
Even so, it grossed me out a bit too much to even – think of Mario in that way. Marco glanced at me, putting out whatever was truly left from his cigarette.
"Like you'd hurt someone? Jesus, I don't know what my father might have put in your head. But someone like you". He points up and down my figure. "Doesn't have what it takes to fight. I'm truly not even sure why you're here". His words sounded so misogynistic and brutal.
He leans back into the office chair, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. A sigh ruptured from me. I tilt my head to the side. My eyebrows furrowed in the process. Marco flashes a small smirk. Showing how off putting he can truly make me feel.
Truly, it was more comical to me. Especially from someone who took "special" training in Italy. For two whole years, to come home and still seem so emasculated and fragile.
"That's the difference work around the clock, I'm available three-hundred and sixty-five days out of the year. Even with twenty-four hours of the day to ensure people like you don't get hurt." I pause leaning forward smiling.
A chuckle escaping, "I also don't need two years of base training to still sit in a higher position and not cover real life details or facts. I also don't take vacations, so before you can assume something sir. Look in a mirror". Marco leaned forward in his seat a blank expression painting it.
"So brave for such an innocent girl. Listen, Aleah, was it? Whatever you had my father believing. Will not work on me, you can't fool me like you fooled him so easily." The more he spoke, my thoughts continued. I even thought about lunging over the table.
To give him a friendly hug around his neck of course. "I can assure you that my work goes as far as you would like it too". I changed the subject not wanting to rant on with a man I barely knew.
Rule #4 Never Insult A Man, Or His Willpower Over You.
Being foolish is an open act and a clear sign of disobedience.
In some parts, I might have already given that up. Yet, the familiar rules engrave themselves in my brain. Complying to rules was a part of doing what they told me to do. Just listen, don't speak especially if that gets you into deeper trouble.
"So, what you said is true?"
His question brought me out of a long trance. I look up, my nose scrunching out of confusion. I hum asking for him to elaborate.
"That I'll be number twenty?" He inquires, staring at me coldly. Not bothering to add any hint of emotion. "I don't think I miscounted?" My words sound contradictory. A puzzled look appeared on my face clearly amused Marco.
His amusement ended just as it started. His phone buzzed loudly, interrupting the silence that filled the room. I stood up and excused myself out of his office. He seemed like one who hated visitors.
I closed the large door on my way out. Sighing in relief that it was over. "There you are miss!" A voice exclaiming loudly. I turn to my right to see the cherry older woman. Her cheeks are bright red, and her gummy smile never fails to cheer me up.
One of the older head maids, Mrs. Wright. "Please, just call me Aleah, Mrs. Wright!" My cheery words uplifting an even brighter smile. She chuckles showing just how beautiful and heartwarming she is.
"Miss, you know I cannot do that". She spoke in a rather hushed tone trying to avoid any extra ears. That may have been passing by. A small snicker escaping my lips. Her bright blue eyes gleaming happily. She claps two hands together pointing at me.
"Oh! Before I forget my dear, have you seen Marco? I'm in charge of fetching you two for dinner." Her words made my lips curl upwards. "He's in Mr. Esposito's office", I watched her head nod politely, before disappearing behind the office doors.
I continued on my way down the long-polished steps that lead into the even bigger hallway. Pushing my way through the larger doors. The usual people we dined with sat in their respectful spots. Pure silence is a normality especially for a long day like this. Tomorrow would be the last day that Mr. Esposito would be here. Italy is much farther than we thought, and without his guidance any longer.
Nothing will run as well as it used to. Mr. Esposito, Adrian, Carla and James all seated. I found my spot sitting down quietly. Not bothering to make any eye contact with others. The pasta in front of me was steaming and creamy, my mouth watering at the sight.
"Is Marco joining?" An annoying snobbish voice speaks up. I finally dared to look up, Carla eyed me. Her index finger twirling her hair around. A sheepish smirk piling onto her face.
"Mrs. Wright is getting him", Mr. Esposito interjected in catching Carla's attention.
Her smile fading once she was faced with his stone-cold stature. Mr. Esposito took the opportunity to roll his eyes at her. Turning back to his plate of food. Feeling just as disgusted as I became. I didn't blame him at all, she wasn't that appealing to hold a conversation with.
Thankfully, before she could interrupt. The dining room door swings open revealing a clearly unhappy Marco. His eyes found Mr. Esposito's not bothering to glance at anyone else.
"Mr. Hayes is back in town". He mentions before finding his own spot on the table. Between Carla and I, my eyes finally darted away from the pasta in front of me. I caught Mr. Esposito's sour expression. He met my gaze, with one that didn't even need words. It became rather clear of what was expected of me to do. Mr. Esposito wanted me to take care of him.
"My final wish before I leave is – Aleah take care of Mr. Hayes for me. Set up Oasis for me Adrian". Mr. Esposito spoke as I nodded, watching him pick slowly at his pasta. Telling me just how clear his plans were going to be.
Adrian nods, before shoving his entire fork-full of pasta into his mouth. Carla, on the other hand, looked rather bothered that Mr. Esposito chose me instead of her. Mr. Esposito rarely used her for anything. I on the other hand made sure I killed my objective. She would rather gawk at Marco the entire time anyway.
"Mario, if I must say I can always take over for Aleah. I'm sure she has things to do tomorrow." Carla begins, I side-eye her. Never once have I been unavailable for a job much like this. My schedules revolve around others. Carla just wanted extra brownie points with her new toy. I find myself fidgeting with a ring to avoid an entire screaming match with her.
That came to a stop when Mr. Esposito gave a darting look. "Aleah is always free; she doesn't leave anyone alive. Much less she's not afraid to hold a gun. Also, don't call me Mario, we aren't friends". He pauses as Carla's face starts to flush into a brighter pink.
"So, without being said, Aleah can and will do this for me. That's final". His words sounded so harsh and cruel. He brings his fork towards his mouth – signaling for everyone else to start eating. Adrian is normally always farther behind and never waits for anyone.
Rule #10
Don't touch the plate in front of you. Unless your holder instructs you too or starts eating.
Rules were non-negotiable and meant to be followed. I wasn't as stupid to disobey someone like that so easily.
Complete silence filled the room as we began to eat. Carla seems to be throwing her own temper tantrum in her own head. Angrily stabbing her fork into the expensive plates. I cringed at the screeching sound it made.
"Mr. Esposito, my outfit clearly can't holster a weapon. Can someone sneak in for me and hide it under Mr. Hayes' mattress". I broke the underlying silence, clearly exhausted from how loud Carla's plate was becoming.
If anything, I couldn't kill Mr. Hayes with my bare hands. I had to be concerned to some degree especially with how disgusting and mischievous he is. He deserved it.
I earned the smallest assurance from a nod. Not bothering to even look up from his plate of pasta. "Adrian, tomorrow morning I want that gun hidden under the mattress, do you understand?" – Mr. Esposito's voice sounded low and dangerous.
"Yes sir", Adrian responds, I swore I saw his pupils dilate out of sheer fear. The rest of dinner rained out in a long boring silence with the occasional work conversation. Or Carla trying to flirt with Marco. Eating and hearing that wasn't fun. I stared idly at the empty dinner plate.
"May I be excused?" My words shattering the leftover dinner chatter that Marco and Carla were too indulged in. I received a nod, I swiftly stood up grabbing my empty plate. Smiling, "have a good rest of your night". I headed into the kitchen placing my plate down. Feeling a very uncomfortable stare on my back side.
My shift in body language I felt their stare slowly wash away. I ran cold water over the plate making it less of a mess for the maids. I turned off the tap, heading right for the stairs once more. I opened the large doors hearing them slam behind me. Embracing the comfort, I found in it.
Whoever was staring at me wasn't just staring at my back. Letting the softest sigh escape. The walls painted a lighter gray. Moonlight finding its way through the parted curtains.
Undeniably, a part of me could have passed out the moment I hit my bedsheets. I wanted nothing more than to lay in the comfort of my own bed.
A full face of makeup and fancy clothes were very much still on me. That took the longest time to do, I found myself sitting down staring into my vanity mirror. As I strip any reminisce of my makeup off. Without warning my bedroom door swung open. My eyes widened like saucers, startled and shocked.
Watching Marco scoff loudly, throwing his hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me". He froze taking in the entirety of what was my room. "He gave you, my room. Seriously?!" The frustration seeped through his voice.
"I'm sorry, I can request for a room change in the morning". My apology was clearly meaningless. There clearly isn't much more that I could do. But an apology may make Marco feel slightly better... hopefully?
His hand brushed through his stubble. He eyes me, sighing heavily. His chest heaving, "I can uhm, go to sleep on the couch. You can have your bed back". I propose the newer suggestion. I met his eyes this time looking for any sign of emotion.
Yet, I couldn't find a single hint or tinge of happiness, even agitation hadn't sparked once through those emerald eyes. The boring hold he had on me still frightened me a lot more than anything else would.
To him, the stare wouldn't matter as much to him as it did to me. "It's your room according to the looks of it". Marco walks over to my bed. Picking up a corner of the silk duvet feeling the fabric between his fingers. Before discarding it, watching it fall back into place.
Marco shoves his hands into his slack pockets. "I can accommodate anything if that's what you prefer sir". Another suggestion slammed right out into the open. He continues eyeing around my room. Searching for what seems to be any reminisce of what his childhood room looked like.
"Every other room is taken for the night. Either I go or, we both stay". His suggestion sounded ten times worse than I truly intended for. Stay? Like, in the same bed? No, God no, I'd rather feed my hair to goats. "The bed is all yours!" I exclaim not wanting to share any square inch of my bed with him. Pleading for him to at least accept the offer and shut up.
"I'll take the couch after all – I'm just a guest in your room". He says, now starting to practically strip in front of me. I tug at the oversized shirt downwards to make myself feel more comfortable. "This room will be yours by tomorrow I can ask James to help me move my – things". My cheery words were most certainly not from excitement. They were driven by fear and terror. I could see my younger self – cowering in the corner nearby scared of what he was capable of. Nothing in this world is permanent. Anything could change within a snap of your fingers. In this case, he wouldn't have even had to move his finger.
Marco shakes his head firmly with an offer that screams no. "I can figure it out just fine – thanks". He finds himself heading over to the couch slumping down onto it. Slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. I looked beyond afraid, slowly taking smaller strides towards my bed. Turning off the light.
Gulping nervously, feeling sweat starting to bead and fall from my forehead. Feeling a weight started to crush me entirely. Tonight, I had to sleep with one eye open.
"Good night, sir", I spoke trying to play it off as if I wasn't tense. His lack of response didn't fail to frighten me. I covered the entirety of my body with the duvet. Feeling the weight of tomorrow that would surely kill me.
But the true killer would be tomorrow. Finally killing a man who was capable of something much more scarce than imaginable. Evidently, there became more on my plate than expected and a new boss that I wasn't acquainted with.
On this night, without a doubt I wasn't so safe without Mr. Esposito by my side anymore. He and I knew that all too well. Whatever happens in this house stays. If Mr. Esposito goes, the sworn secrecy I promised to keep. Wouldn't apply to me speaking to Mr. Esposito, if not at all.
Safety became a priority once I stepped foot into this house. That meant, no partying without someone, don't stay out late, don't interact with strangers: and it secured me from the violence.
Whatever tomorrow may bring, I knew no matter how good I did. Marco's ability to be fulfilled or "Impressed" is nearly close to none. I'm a weapon, an asset to this family. He clearly hadn't seen that. Tomorrow is a new start. An initiation to Marco, if anything I was the one who owed him. He will learn how Mariana Russo – pardon, how Aleah Franco operates. Mariana wasn't as good as Aleah is. Mariana is more like the angelic twin. Obeying rules, commands, always saying yes. Never learning how to say no.
Aleah, on the other hand. Is tired, scared, and most of all she's a killer. A cold-blooded murderer that truthfully feels nothing more than hatred when she kills. The Esposito family adored Aleah. Never knowing about Mariana or who she was. I'd like to keep it that way. Tomorrow is to display who I am. Whether that be Mariana or Aleah. I will kill Mr. Hayes.