My Billionaire: Fire for Hire

Chapter 1- Past

Scarlet's P.O.V

Flustered and soaked I ran along the busy streets of New York.

Even though it was almost one in the morning it was still super busy with people bustling and pushing everywhere.

I had to dodge in and out of couples and groups.

It was very noisy, the constant hubbub of voices, laughter and cries.

Cars and cabs beeped along the busy roads and I could hear a dog barking loudly in the distance.

I pulled my red hair up into a messy pony tail as I continued to run.

The rain poured down just a heavily, blinding me slightly as it's coldness stung my eyes.

My clothing clung to my body, wet and tight.

As I ran my feet splashed in the puddles making me and the people surrounding me even more wet.

Why I was running, I really didn't know because there was no way of avoiding the pouring rain, and to be honest what was much more important to this story was what I was running from.

On a very small scale it was the very cold rain that had soaked my white blouse and jeans through.

But in the grand picture it was my past, and running was all I could ever do to feel some blanket of comfort.

The past, something we all rally around.

Stories of childhoods filled with adventure and fun, romances filled with lovers and passion, yesterday's, last weeks, stories to tell your grandchildren.

My mother use to tell me that the past was an amazing thing because we can be sure if it, everyone has a past, but the future is unpredictable, and indeed the only thing we can be sure if is death.

The past is like a stone master, it chisels away at a rock for ages hoping to turn it into a sculpture, out pasts chisels away at our personalities and it shapes the way we are for the rest of our lives.

Little girls hear the stories of past princesses and castles, dragons and knights in shining armour and for a long time I hoped my life would become like a fairytale.

My past had nothing like that, it was dark and thick, like a midnight fog in a horror movie.

I slowed down as I spotted a bar over on the other side of the road.

I scowled as I looked down the road for a crossing realising there wasn't one.

I took a deep breath and ran through the traffic, cars beeped at me as I ran through the blinding rain over to the other side of the road.

I didn't stop running until I was well and truly inside the glowing warmth of the bar.

As I opened the door I heard a bell tinkle and I instantly smelt a rather distinct odour of musty alcohol mixed with a wet barber jacket smell.

I sighed pulling of my pretty useless jacket and slinging it over my arm.

I wiped under my eyes hoping that I didn't now resemble a panda as the makeup on my face had most likely run.

When I was younger I use to have a thing against makeup, I use to think it was silly for women to paint there faces as such.

But now makeup had become an everyday routine for me, it was a shield, something I could hide behind.

I walked over to the bar.

It was almost empty, but for the bar tender and an old man asleep in the corner.

"I'm about to close love, but I can whip you up something quick if you're really needing," he said.

"Pint of beer please," I said crashing down on one of the bar stools .

The bar man spoke to me as he poured my drink ,

"Still raining outside?" he said

I cleared my throat and raised my eyebrows.

"Ah yeah" he said looking at my soaked hair and clothes.

I sighed as the realization dawned on me.

I had no place to stay,

I had no money,

And I had no one to ask for help.

"Scuse me mizss" slurred the bar man plonking down a beer on the counter.

"Thanks" I said jerking my head slightly

"No problem" he said in a dulcet tone.

I took a gulp of the beer, the coldness of it chilled my bones as it hit my stomach making me shudder.

"So miss ummm?" said the barman

"oh, its Miss Hyde but seriously no one calls me that, it's just Scarlet" I said

My full name was Scarlett Amarelle Maria Hyde. My mother's name was Mary so she chose Maria and Amarelle was a name my father chose.

"Okay then Scarlet, where you from then" he said

Small talk was something I never really understood, a bunch of posh adults asking questions like "have you got any pets" with no one really caring or listening.

"Well London I think" I mumbled

"you think?" he said

"yeah well, London is a past for me, i'm moving on and New York beckoned so I ran" I said

"Ah, one of those mysterious past girls, don't worry miss Scarlet, this is New York, it ain't as bad as Vegas, but we got a lot of dark pasts, presents and futures" he said refilling my glass

I nodded not really taking in all that he had said as I was side tracked by the sound of a bell tinkling as the door was pushed open and a blast of cold air and rain rushed in.

A figure, tall, dark and hooded walked into the bar.

The sight of him made me shiver.

The hooded figure walked over to the bar and sat down three stools away from me.

"Pint of beer please" said a voice from under the hood, deep and masculine.

"Sir, could you please remove your hood, common curtsy please" said the bar man

"Sure, on your head" he growled, I didn't know what he meant by it though.

I just sat there like a rabbit in the headlights as the mystery figure tantalizingly slowly lifted his hood.

A handsome face appeared, high cheekbones and hollowed-in cheeks. His face was sculpted and the look on his face was like he was experiencing his worst nightmare or that he was in pain of some indescribable measure.

His neck was muscular and I could see a peek of a tattoo under his creased shirt collar.

He was pale, but not like a vampire, just like someone who had lived in a cold country for a while and hadn't seen much sun.

His hair was dark, somewhere between brown and black but not one in particular.

"One beer" said the bar man shakily who, I saw when I ripped my eyes of the mystery guy, was staring at the guy with almost horror on his face.

I instantly thought how rude the bar man was being, the guy had only taken off his hood, what was the big deal.

"Thanks" said the guy, looking straight at the bar man

The bar man tried his best to look anywhere but at the guy, he shuffled uncomfortably

"Well, I need to close up, I got a wife and kids to go home to, if you want to stay and lock up, that's alright, miss ummm Sarah has just arrived as well, she can stay"said the barman

"It's Scarlet actually" I said

"Oh yeah, the hair" he said

I quite often got remarks like that, Scarlet is a dark red kinda colour, so is her hair, she was named for her hair. I wasn't.

When I was a child I use to hate my hair, people would tease me about it and call me names.

But as I got older, I learned to like it and embraced it fully near the end of school.

It was a firey red, not ginger, but red. it spoke my personality to the world and it was me, Scarlet the redhead.

"Plus" started the barman "I can't leave 'im here" he said pointing to the sleeping man in the corner

"Could you just close up after he wakes up and all?" He asked

I shrugged and nodded, I had no where else to go.

Both the barman and I turned our heads towards the mystery guy.

He picked up his beer, and slowly took a big gulp, and placed it down on the counter again.

"Sure, I got nothing better to do" he growled

"Great" said the barman throwing him the keys

"Oh and don't worry if it catches fire or somethin', the insurance money is worth more than this s**t-hole of a bar" he said as he walked out the door.

The door slammed shut.

And it was just me and him, and of course the sleeping guy but he was no where near waking.

We sat there for a while, a dead silence hovering above our heads and sweeping round the room.

It wasn't awkward, just unnatural, unnerving and slightly tantalising.

"So miss ummm.., where you from" growled the figure

I did a double take, not realising he was speaking to me at first

"Oh um, it's Miss Hyde, but I've never been Miss Hyde, just Scarlet and I'm from London" I said.

My voice was still strong but my insides were screaming truce.

"Ah, English.... very interesting, you got family here or money, what about business or maybe even pleasure?" he said

"Nope, got no money, no contacts in this area, it's just me, I kinda just left one day"

"Ah, so English has run from London" he growled

"But the thing is, what has English run from?" he said turning to face me.

I jumped as green eyes pierced into my own, scars, I had sat on his left side so I hadn't seen, he had scars down the right side off his face, starting from his forehead, down his cheek to his chin and neck.

They looked like burns or maybe something else but they were red and purple, I winced thinking about how they came to be there.

"Got a problem?" he said as though he was daring me to say something

I shook my head

"Great, so English, you got no money, no family and no where to stay, am I right" he said

I nodded again

"Hmmph" he said taking another gulp of his beer

We sat there, again in dead silence. Only this time he kept staring at me, his green eyes boaring into the depths of my soul and skin.

I had started to become uncomfortable, but didn't move as his eyes still surveyed me up and down.

"I have a proposition for you English" he said

"Oh yeah?" I said staring into his eyes

"Yeah, I have a job you can do, it will involve a place for you to stay for the week and you can make some money" he said finally taking his eyes of me and looking at the sleeping man in the corner

"What's the catch?" I asked

"The catch?" he said

"Yeah, what do I have to do for you?" I said forcefully

"Oh English, why does there always have to be a catch?" he said with a patronising look on his face

"I need you to do something for me, but you will be payed and before you ask no I don't need an escort, this is a different job" he said

"I never suggested or thought that I would be an escort and if you expected that of me then you are wrong in your accusation" I said

"Oh English, such big words for such a small person" he said.

Silence hung over us again, gripping at my throat as my mind raced trying to think of something, anything to say.

"My question has been put in the table, your answer?" he said.

I looked at my jacket on the floor, the only thing I had left, I felt my pockets, empty, there was no way out.

"Fine, but on one condition, you explain every detail of this job" I said.

He sucked air in through his teeth.

"Fine" he breathed out "but not here"

"Where then?" I said

"Trust me English" he said

"Your asking me to trust you, a guy I just met, in a bar at.." I looked at my watch

"one twenty in the morning" I finished

"yes, I am asking you to trust me, the guy you just met in a bar at one twenty in the morning" said the guy

"why should I?" I said thinking of all the possibilities of murder and r**e and trying to remember what they taught me in school about stranger danger.

"Because English, what other option have you got?" he said

I looked at him, then at the floor again

"okay, then that's settled, shall we go?" he said getting up

"Yes but one more thing" I said not getting up yet

He stood there, waiting for me to say something.

"go ahead English, land your plane" he scowled

"your name?" I said

"my name?" he said

"yes, you know like John Smith or Sarah Jones" I said

"don't play the smart alic game with me English, I know what you meant" he said in a chilling voice that sent shivers down my spine

"well then, what is your name?" I repeated

"It's whatever you want it to be." he said in a harsh whisper

"stop trying to be difficult or I won't help you" I said

"and what is it that makes you think that I just can't go ask someone else?" he said

"Because this is backstreet New York, its way past midnight, your desperate, and I am too, you haven't got anyone else to turn to, nor have I, you see, I'm your last hope and I have agreed to come with you, but only if you tell me your name" I said with a sly smile on my face

"oh well English you are quick, quite the little detective I see, well then if you wish it" he said breathing out and squinting his eyes at me

I waited for him to say something, not speaking myself.

"For you English, and for only you, My name is Lucian Cullon"

"Pleasure to meet you Mr.Cullon" I held out my hand

He gripped it tightly in his sending a multitude of shock waves pulsating through my body as his touch seemed to burn my fingertips yet freeze them at the same time.

"No English," he said "The Pleasure is all mine"