I took a deep shaky breath and slowly turned the doorknob. I tried my best to be quiet going down the stairs, but they were so creaky it was no use, though it doesn't really matter if I'm quiet or not I don't think anyone could hear me in a house like this.
I studied the portraits once more before heading over to the large double door.
I anxiously typed the code, 46725#%. Sweat trickled its way down my face, I really hope this works.
Within a few seconds the keypad flashed to a neon green, and I heard the door click. I pushed the doors and made my way inside.
Of course, it looked exactly like a regular office. A wooden desk, lots of files, a large bookshelf and some chairs.
I made my way over to the craftsman desk; I ran my hand over the thick slab of wood and took a seat. I rummaged through the drawers, but I couldn't find anything important it was just basic files, mail and bills. In the corner of my eye, I saw an elevator.
I ushered over to the very far back of the room and stood Infront of it. Wow. So, this is where they like to keep their elevators, stingy b*stards.
I stepped inside the elevator, there was two options, floor 1, and floor 2. I pressed floor 1 and watched as it took me upstairs within seconds.
My heart rate picked up and my eyes went wide. There were hundreds of guns displayed onto stands or hung on to walls.
I walked over to one of the tables, placing my hands onto the glass. My mind spun, what the actual f*ck, why did my brothers have guns? Why did they have so many guns? Were they psycho killers or something?
My heart hammered; I heard a thick Italian accent, one that would belong to Alessandro. I bolted over to a small storage closet; I wouldn't be surprised if he caught me and decided to shoot me with one of his guns.
I heard the elevator ding, I looked threw the small crack of the closet and watched as he came out, holding his cell phone in his hand.
"I f*cking told you I'm not sending sh*t until that shipment arrives." He spat into the phone, walking over to one of the glass tables.
Shipment? What shipment? I hugged my body with my arms, my stomach felt uneasy, if he catches me, he's going to kill me.
He walked over to the glass table I used to be at.
"F*cking Angelo, he's always playing with my guns and never cleans the glass after." He muttered under his breath.
Well, it was obvious that this secret, clearly wasn't a secret to anyone else but me. I wondered if May knows about this room.
He ran his hand through his hair as he took a seat on one of the chairs, "F*cking Aleksandr is always trying to get his hands on something he knows he can't have." He grumbled into the phone.
"That's the Russian mafia for ya sir." A faint voice replied, it came from the phone.
My mind raced, I think I'm going to be sick, the Russian what!? It all makes sense now, Alessandro is always out, well everybody is, he's lying about his job, he has ten different offices in one house, and he's always upset or busy.
My brothers owned the Italian mafia.