Mafia Boss's Secret Wife

Chapter 6: Class dismissed

On the notification screen on my phone, there are only a handful of words I can read. And I read them over and over again.

500k dollars have been transferred to your account.

And under this notification from my bank, a message pops right up as well. The number is not saved under any name, but I can tell who it was.

For Plan-B.

That’s all. All that the message read. I’m not even sure how to feel or what to think. Who does he think he is?! Just how much of a d**k can he be?! Does he think he has a magic d**k?! After years of trying I'll just get pregnant from a moron like him?!

People like you should not breed! I harshly think as I stare at the text bubble, frozen in my spot, hands shaking, as I try to come up with a good reply.

“For plan b?!” Karina repeats as she gawks into the screen of my phone. “What does that mean?! Since when did contraception become this expensive?!” She shouts, alarmed and amused at the same time.

I flinch and almost drop my phone. Somehow, in the heat of it all, I forgot she was here.

A sigh leaves my lips and I pinch my nose bridge as I put my phone away.

“It’s nothing. Just a stupid prank I guess. Someone must have the wrong phone number. I’ll-“ I pause for a brief moment. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

***

But tomorrow doesn’t give me the chance to do much besides running around. And the day after tomorrow is not too kind to me either. And by the end of the week, I completely forget about the half million dollars in my account.

And in two weeks time, my life is all over the place and I almost forget the night when Thomas Bechtel took an interest in me.

There were other, more important , things that took permanent residence in my mind. Like the gig we landed at the summer carnival. Or my proficient class that was about to come to an end. Or the hospital bills and the endless calls and texts from Joshua who took it upon him to make my life even harder than it was.

Who could have guessed that life in the big city was not actually going to fulfill the poor girl’s dream of being famous or important in any way that actually mattered?

I pace through the empty dance studio while the music hums in the background. Something about today did not feel right. And I could not put my finger on it. Even as my students come in and the room grows lively, something still feels off.

I stop by the window and take a long look outside. That’s when a black bentley pulls right in front of the building. A sense of dread washes over me with enough force to drain the color from my cheeks, when someone steps out.

A black suit, a black fedora, and at his waist, I catch a glimpse of the revolver that is cinched with leather just in reach. I don’t see his face, but I know exactly who it was.

Alright… alright… this building holds many lawyers… he could be here for them not for me - I hurry to conclude as I step away from the window and shut the blinds.

“Is everybody here?” I call out as I make my way to the entrance door of the studio. I poke my head out and look down the hall before hastily stepping back inside and locking the door.

“Yes, I think so-“ Someone behind me answers.

I feel beads of cold sweat pooling somewhere in the back of my head, and for the love of everything that is holy, I can’t stop shaking.

“Great!” I chime, trying to ignore the almost painful lump in my throat. “Let’s start warming up!” I cheer as I turn up the volume to drown out any other sounds.

I put as much distance as possible between me and the door, trying to act as calm as possible. I do get a few funny looks, but nobody seems to catch up on my fears.

And for a few long minutes, everything seems to settle.

Even my heart calms down and starts to beat in a gentler rhythm as I start to dance as well, to warm up and ease the tension. But everything falls right back into panic, when I notice the knob turning.

I might be delusional, but I am well aware that a lock won’t keep out something or someone that really wants inside.

And all my fears come true when a gunshot pierces through the sound of the music and the door flies open. The room fills with screams and yells and the whole room seems to be turnt upside down. My students all step away from the door and despite me being the shortest and smallest of them all, I end up being the only one to step forward, towards the intruder.

Through the door, a tall, handsome man walks. There is no visible expression on his lips. His hands are gloved with leather and his revolver is still in his hand as he walks forward. He uncocks the gun and tucks it under the long coat, somewhere at his hip. He doesn’t seem to care if there are people inside the room or not. Truly, he doesn’t even look my way at all.

Thing that gives me a bit more courage. I take in a deep breath and wrap my arms around myself, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

The man reaches out to the stereo and turns it off. The room is bathed in utter silence, and now, a sliver of a smile curls on his lips. From under his brows, his eyes move to me and pin me down with malintent, and I know exactly why he is here. He is here to make my life a living hell.

Gray eyes filled with mischief, darkened even more by thick black lashes stare right through my soul, piercing a big gaping hole within it. Every fight or flight instinct within me dies and I am nothing but a doe in the headlights. Why do I fear him? I have no answers, only a terrible wish for this to be nothing but a dream.

“What are you doing here?” My lips move before I can even fanthom the thought of speaking up, each and every word meant to be cold and detached, despite the fact that my own nails are diggig into my flesh.

One of his brows raises and he picks off his fedora, placing it o top of the stereo.

“Is this not an open class?” He asks as he peels off the coat as well, and makes his way to the coat hanger, offering everyone a view of the leather clutch of his revolver.

I hurry to scan him from head to toe. There was a very visible reason why this demon of a man was considered the most desired bachelor in town. He held a strange beauty. One almost incomparable to the standard human beauty. Which further made me think he was some sort of hellish spawn who crawled his way through the earth’s crust especially to make my life a hell.

“It most certainly is not!” I reply in a hurry as I chase after him, to stop him from making himself comfortable.

I grab the coat he just hung and toss it right back at him, earening a few gasps from the watching crowd.

“I don’t want you here.” I hiss through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes.

There is a spark of strange, almost unburdened pleasure in his eyes as he stares down at me. One of his gloved hands raises and for a brief second I think he is about to slap me, but he merely motions to the others to leave.

“Class dismissed.” He speaks loud enough for everyone to hear him.

As everyone hurries to grab their things and walk out, I roll my eyes and drop my arms around myself, ready to walk away. But I don’t eve get to take one step away before he grab my arm and pull me right back in front of him.

“Not you.” He growls in a strange way that makes the hair of the back of my neck stand.

Shit.

The room empties in a matter of seconds and before I know it, I am alone with Thomas. He remains silent and I am pinned in my place, staring up at him and wondering how did I eve end up in a situation like this.

While everyone adored him, while most women would die to have him look their way, I felt disgusted by his mere presence. His strong perfume was overwhelming, and the way he looked at me, as if he was undressing me with his eyes, as if he was trying to read me page by page like an open book, the way his gloved hand gripped my arm, all made me way to have never existed in the first place.

His presence is suffocating. The power that surrounds him, the dark aura of bad omens that cling to him like crows do to Death, makes me feel small and unimportant.

“Why are you here, Thomas?” I ask once more, slowly, every word spoken with a certain sternness.

His grip o my arm softens and he lets go of me, suddenly losing interest in me as he puts his coat away and walks away, pacing through the empty room, looking right and left as if fishing for an answer.

He stops a few steps away from the mirrored wall, watching his own reflection for a few moments. His eyes cut to my image and he seems to think a bit more before he turns on his heels, with grace I have never seen in a man before, extending one arm in my direction.

“Dance with me.” He speaks and as much as I wished to deny him, I knew I was not given the option.

My eyes trace over his extended arm, to the gun at his side. Would he shoot me if I say no?

“Dance with me, Persephone.” He repeats himself, his voice just as calm as earlier, his face just as emotionless.