Chapter 8:Devil's snare

Sarah's POV

She studies the other occupants of the room, regretting her choice. They seem to be his bodyguards. Even if she manages to get the keys out of those pockets, she knows she can't get out of here alive.

Dark shades, casual fitting wears, they are all dressed in black, except the man standing before her.

His eyes are bloodshot, with a weak sparkle in them, as they peer down at her body. He seems amused by her compliance or maybe he's just curious about what may be underneath those denim clothing on her.

Usually, the Mafias are know to possess things forcefully. Here, she is, accepting thier choice without a fight. Not the slightest protest. He, on the other hand, as a comforting, yet fear-evoking undertone to his request.

"Shawn must have said alot about me, I suppose. Or maybe your father did, " he says, serving himself a cup of wine as he unbuttons his shirt delicately.

Sarah seems surprised that he knew her father. Of course. It's the only reason he's willing to help.

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