Chapter 61

Mike and his other friend walked out of the room to let me get changed in peace, which honestly surprised me coming from Mike! I almost expected him to stay to watch me change, but he thankfully followed the other man outside. I shuddered when I realized he probably would've stayed if the other bandit hadn't been there. I threw on the dress, feeling somewhat uneasy by its tightness, which made the velvety fabric cling onto my feminine curves. I wasn't flat, but I wasn't too curvatious either. I was just average. But still, I didn't like how body-hugging the dress was, not to mention the neckline was showing a little too much skin for my taste. Grimacing as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I tried to pull at the fabric in an attempt to cover my chest as much as I could, but my cleavage was still apparent.

"Well..." I half-heartedly mumbled, running my fingers against the soft skirt. "At least, the lower part of the dress is pretty."

   The skirt was flowy, but thankfully not puffy, fluidly cascading down my legs until my ankles. Opening the cupboard, I picked a pair of simple black stilettos, brand new and shiny. That was almost forced that I was going to that dinner, honestly not having the mind to party, but since I had no choice I better give off a good image. Being a politician's daughter, I was used to fancy dinners where I had to appeared pretty and well-mannered, even when I didn't really want to go. That wouldn't be much different here; I didn't want to attend to that dinner, but I'd look at my best anyway to impress my host! There was no way I show up my shoulders slouched, letting him see my sad state of mind! As much to doll myself up and look pretty as to spite Anton by keeping him waiting, I also asked to be escorted to the bathroom to carefully brush my hair. Then, I took all my time to apply some make up. On the other side of the door, I could hear Mike grumbling again about me taking too much time. The other man, shorter and probably younger than him, was more indulgeant.

"How long will it take her?" Pested Mike, who I could perfectly picture out passing the hallway on the other side of the door.

"Calm down, Mike!" Sighed the shorter gangster, apparently fed up of his perpetual bad mood. "She's making herself pretty for the boss, at least she's showing good will."

"Shut up, Tim! Don't take her defense!" Snapped back Mike before to angrily knock on the bathroom's door. "So? You're ready, bitch?!"

   Biting back a comment at the blue eyed gangster's rudeness, I swung the door open. Mike scoffed when he saw me, but the other man, Tim, just stupidly stood there with his mouth agap.

"Tim, stop smiling like an idiot!" Grumbled Mike, glaring at him.

"She's beautiful!" Eagerly commented Tim, taking me by the wrist. "The boss's gonna love that!"

   Tim pulled me downstairs while we were followed by Mike, blocking any attempt for me to run away. I didn't understand why Tim thought I was so pretty all of the sudden, I just applied some red lipstick on my lips and a little hint of black mascara on my lashes. It was dark outside and the lights weren't on, but I still noticed the door leading to the basement, shuddering as we passed it by. The two criminals escorted me to a door left ajar at the end of the hallway.

"We brought her to you, boss!" Announced Tim, cheerfully swinging the door open. "She took her time to make herself beautiful for you!"

   Though I felt more sympathy -I meant less antipathy- toward Tim, right now I could've strangled him! Mike pushed me forward, almost making me trip on my high heels. I turned around to yell at them, but the two gangsters already walked off, closing the door behind them. Turning around again, my eyes widened at what I saw; The room had cream white walls decorated by abstrait paintings, modern sculptures and green plants. The light of the ceiling wasn't on, but the room was lighted up by the moonlight coming from the large windows and from the candles lighted up on the table. A hint of fresh wind was coming from an open window, making the silky white curtains float. And of course, sitting at the end of the table was him: Anton.

"Miss MacCarthy!" Exclaimed the criminal, standing up to welcome me. "What a joy to see you here tonight!"

   He quickly crossed the distance between us, having thrown on his broad shoulders an elegant black jacket. His pitch black hair was also more structured and hairstyled.

"Would you mind?" He politely offered, reaching his hand out.

"No more obsequiosity, please, Mr Carmichael." I rather coldly replied, placing my hand in his larger one anyway. "I only accepted to come here because you threatened to send me dine naked with your men if I declined."

"Ah, yes! Sorry about that, that was an empty threat." He apologized flatly, leading me toward the table before to add with a slightly mocking and knowing tone. "But of course, you're free to leave if you don't want to be here. I'm sure a dinner between my men and you naked can still be organized."

   The glare I flashed him was a sufficient answer to him to know what I thought about that. Letting go of his hand, I pulled myself a seat and sat down in the rather comfy golden armchair.

"That's what I thought." The criminal darkly chuckled, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my pale skin.

   Not having it, I straightened in the soft golden velvet of my armchair. Anton walked around the table to sit across of me, a very faint smirk on his pale face.

"Actually, I'd rather dine at home with my father than here with a criminal!" I snapped to wipe that satisfied smirk right off his face, but at the same time feeling a pained tingle in my heart.

"Talking about that, I'm sorry your father didn't mentionned you during his interview, Miss MacCarthy." Replied the black haired man, his smirk disappearing to give him a serious expression. "We thought he'd talk about in on the TV."

"He probably left that out because the police needs his discretion for now!" I sharply defended my father, though my shoulders slouched a little. "He can't not be worried about me!... That's just that he's not showing it..."

   I lowered my head a little, glad that the dim lightening of the candles probably hide the sadness in my eyes. At the other hand of the table, my captor rattled his throat to get my attention.

"No matter what..." Anton coughed, gesturing at the table. "I gave him my word to keep you unharmed and you're hurting yourself by starving yourself. Eat."

   But I had to stick to my plan if I wanted to escape. They'd be forced to release me if I wasn't eating. Though, this time I looked down at my plate, actually considering to eat.

"Starving yourself is pointless. Please, eat." Matter-of-factly insisted Anton, probably sensing my hesitation. "Unless you'd rather have me forcefeeding you."

"You wouldn't dare!" I froze, shooting my head up at him.

"Do you think?" He asked, slowly slicing a little piece of roasted chicken from his own plate. "Open your mouth."

   Still in an agonizingly slow motion, he picked the piece of meat on his fork and reached his hand across the table, directing the soft flesh toward my mouth. Looking down, I sliced my own chicken, letting him know I'd rather eat on my own rather than be fed like a three years old girl.

"Good." He darkly approved, eating the piece of chicken he had on his fork.

   I was forced to admit the bite of chicken I dropped on my tongue was delicious. On my plate was roasted potatoes bathing in sauce. Quite obviously, the gang leader was trying to impress me. He watched me with cold, predatory eyes until I swallowed.

"Well, I'm relieved you're finally eating!" He spoke again, cutting his chicken. "I was worried to see you starve yourself like that!"

"By that, you mean..." I asked, taking a bite of potato. "That you were worried of the troubles you'd get from my father if I was returned to him famished and skinny?"

"Partly, yes." Admitted the criminal before to cast me a deep, unreadable gaze. "You seem to have very arrested opinions on me, Miss MacCarthy!"

"How could it be otherwise? You're a criminal, you kidnapped me, you robbed my father's bank..." I listed, after having swallowed my bite of potato. "Am I really supposed to applause?"

"No, you're not! But there's a lot of rumors circulating about me, and if some are true I can't deny it, some are false." Explained Anton, giving me another side glance. "You should learn not to believe everything you hear!"

   Especially not from a criminal! Though, I avoided replying that outloud, my mouth way too busy chewing on some chicken. After my starvation period, I was ravenous and the dinner served in front of me was tasty! I had already eaten one bite; That would've been useless to stop now, wasn't it? Plus, I really didn't want Anton to forcefeed me! Though, I was careful to respect the manners and chop tiny pieces of food that I slowly leveled to my mouth.

"There's no need to be so guarded; There's no one to impress, I'm only a criminal!" Pointed out my captor, noticing my polite behavior. "You must be ravenous! Please, eat all you want."

   I immediately cutted a massive piece of chicken and shoved it in my mouth, relieved to be allowed to eat all I needed. Reaching across the table, Anton grabbed a bottle and poured a blood red liquid in my glass.

"Have some wine!" Offered the black haired man, his dark brown eyes shining in the dark.

"Is it poisonned?" I suspiciously questionned my captor, straightening on my velvet armchair.

   I suspiciously gazed at the crimson liquid twirling in my glass, looking almost black in the dim lightening of the room. Under the candlelight, the drink looked like some fresh blood. I stiffened a bit at this though, equally remembering that the best way to drug some was to slip something in their drink. To answer my question, the criminal had a slight shrug from his broad shoulders and lifted my glass to his chapped lips, swiftly emptying it.

"It isn't poisonned, Miss MacCarthy." He affirmed, putting my glass back on the table. "Now, would you like some wine?"

   While dining, he took another glass while I exceptionnally accorded myself one. I knew I couldn't afford more than one because I couldn't tolerate alcohol very well. On his side, Anton definitely wasn't drunk, but was acting in a way which made me suspect he was a little bit tipsy.

"Oh, Miss MacCarthy..." Almost longingly sighed my captor, leaning in the back of his armchair. "What a terrible man you must think I am!"

"This is indeed my opinion." I truthfully replied as Tim walked in the bring back the main dish and bring the dessert. "You did terrible things, you know."

"I did! I'm a criminal." He admitted, chuckling darkly as he served himself with ice cream cake. "You can't expect me to be soft and sweet!"

"You could've avoided to become a criminal, though." I pointed out, noticing the soft flavour of vanilla melting on my tongue.

"I didn't have a choice!" Anton protested, looking at the starry sky through the window.

"Yes, you did!" I snapped back, picking a raspberry on my fork. "Everyone has a choice!"

"You know nothing about me!" Exclaimed the black haired man, punching the table angrily.

   I tensed up on my armchair, warily placing another bite of vanilla/raspberry ice cream cake on my tongue. When my captor was in such a mood, the best thing to do was probably to wait for him to calm down. Nervously, I drank some wine to unwind, but drank a little too much compared to what I wanted.

"You always have a choice... How easy it is for you, rich people, to say that!" Anton shook his head, a hint of melancholia in his chocolate colored orbs. "You know nothing about me!"

   This time, he said that last phrase with sadness in his low voice. Maybe that was the wine, but I felt a tiny bit of compassion for him.

"I'm sorry!" I quickly apologized, wanting to deadpan things down. "You're right, I know nothing about you."

   He stood up, apparently calming down. He was maybe a little bit tipsy, but not too much, since he steadily walked up to me.

"You're right!" He smiled, reaching his hand out for me. "And I organized that dinner to change your mind about me. Would you accord me that dance, my lady?"

   Definitely, the wine might have been altering my mind, because otherwise I'd never have accepted. But I placed my hand in his larger one.

"Just like that?" I asked, standing up from my armchair. "Without music?"

"I take the lead." He offered, leading my hand to his broad shoulder. "You just have to follow."

   My captor then pulled me into a rather formal dance and I knew I should've been awkward. Not that I was unable to dance, I was attempting to balls with my father and I was expected to be able to dance properly. But I was at those balls dancing with my father's collegues, I always felt awkward. But not now, not with Anton. I should've, though; He was my kidnapper, after all! But he was twirling me around so casually that it felt... Natural to be in his powerful arms. It felt nice for once, to forget that I was the daughter of the great Robert MacCarthy and to forget he was the leader of the Carmichael gang, just lost in the moonlight for a few minutes.

"Anton..." I muttered, forgetting in the moment to call him Mr Carmichael. "Why are you doing all this?"

"Why do I do what?" Asked me back my captor with a smile, apparently relaxing in the moment.

"This... All of this!" I precised, his large warm hand on my hip leading me. "Robbing my father, kidnapping me, taking me to that dinner..."

"Ah!" Contently smiled the tall man, an unreadable emotion burning in his fiery brown eyes. "Do you really wish to know?"

   I tried to nod, but just at this moment, I tripped on my high heel and stumbled forward due to having drank too much wine. I crashed against Anton's muscular chest, holding onto his collar to steady myself again. The bandit held me closer to him before to twirl me aroud again. Then, he dived me down, his tall frame hovering above me in the dark.

"Then, I shall tell you!" Whispered Anton, leaning closer to my ear, his hot breath caressing my face as he did. "I'm doing all this because I gave my word to someone."