Six

Sasha's POV.

The thin material of my grey knee-length dress did little to shield me from the cold air that hit me as I stepped out of the car. 

However, that was the least of my worries.

“Never been in front of a hotel before?” I heard the self-acclaimed vicious devil ask.

I saw what he meant when I looked over my shoulder. He was close to the reception door while I stood frozen at the foot of the stairs where the car stopped.

Sighing, I turned around. Even the dark night sky couldn’t conceal the taunting smirk on his face.

He could pass for a company executive in his all-black suit ensemble. His piercing grey eyes -that had done nothing but mock and glare at me since we met- contrasted with the stoic look on his face. 

The way part of his dark brown hair fell onto his chiseled face made him look like the type of guy that made good guys insecure. Not that I was admiring him- it was just how he looked.

He was a mafia boss and a devil- nothing more than that.

I had barely taken two steps into the reception after him when the door opened again and the driver guy appeared.

The only difference between his outfit and the devil’s was his navy blue suit. His black hair was held back in a small bun, which was odd, considering his harsh expression.

As he walked past me, I saw that he was a bit taller than my dad but not as tall as his boss. He was around Jason’s 6.1” height.

How tall is this devil?

“Galileo, put her in a room on you guys’ floor,” the devil instructed.

“Si, boss.”(Yes).

He took a step towards the elevators before he paused and partially turned. 

“We still leave at dawn,” he informed.

“Should I book Flora’s ride for the same time?” Galileo inquired.

“Does she bribe you or something?”

From where I stood, I saw his eyes flash with anger.

“Sorry, boss. I just assumed…since you’ve not been seeing others aside her lately…”

“And when did we start operating on assumptions? The next time you make this mistake, I’ll assume your sister is trying to kill me, and I’ll gun her down.”

“Sorry, boss,” Galileo spoke again, his head still bending forward.

Without saying a word, the devil headed towards the elevators.

He disappeared from the reception before Galileo turned towards me.

Don’t glare at me, dude. I didn’t threaten your sister.

“Come with me,” he uttered, leading the way to the reception desk.

A few minutes later, I was behind the door of a room Galileo locked from outside.

Resting my back against the door, I looked around.

The room wasn’t so different from the room I was in just some hours ago.

A queen-sized bed sat against the wall opposite the door. A couch was beside the drawer to the left of the bed. The bathroom door was to the right.

I dragged myself to the foot of the bed, removing my heels as I sat.

I dug my the heel of my palms into the bed on both sides of myself.

I let out a huff of air. It was unusual that I wasn’t a teary mess yet, despite the situation I suddenly found myself in. Aside from the stubborn tears that escaped when the devil mentioned my mother, I hadn’t felt much.

The mention of my mom hadn’t made me feel so sad in years. I often answered with an ‘It’s okay’ whenever someone mentioned my mom before knowing she’s dead. It was a distant memory that crushed me in the middle of the night- most nights, though.

But when the heartless devil mentioned her, I imagined how this might not have happened if I had my Mom to straighten my Dad out.

Maybe I wouldn’t even be in Florence right now.

A knock sounded and, before I could blink, the door opened.

“Ciao, ma’am. Your food,” the room service staff spoke, his Italian accent unmissable.

I would have asked him to return the food if I didn’t see Galileo waiting for him at the door.

Unable to work a smile, I nodded and gestured for him to drop the food on the stool closest to him.

The door closed again and I heard the click that reminded me of my fate.

A sad chuckle left my lips.

How did I go from drinking and dancing with my friend on Friday night to being a mafia boss’ property tonight?

A property of not just any man but a type of man that commits crimes for fun. Someone who kills people like one kills the engine of a car.

Trading my work, my friends, my whole life in New York for the life of a mere commodity in Italy?

It wasn’t a fate I would accept- not now, not ever.

But what can I do?

I took out my phone.

It was just twenty minutes till midnight.

I couldn’t just run away, I knew that. I had to make a plan. Quickly.

A slow smile crossed my lips as I thought of one.

Yawning, I collapsed on the bed.

I suddenly couldn’t wait for the next day.