My mafia boyfriend, my nemesis

Eileen's pov:. You make mistakes- you get punished. You don't make mistakes - they hate you. You can't satisfy people, no matter how hard you try, they'll always be dissatisfied. You don't have to waste your time on this, time is the most precious. If I hadn't tried to satisfy everyone around me for so many years, things would have been different. I was trying to listen to my parents, I was doing what I was told. I was a valedictorian, even though it's not that hard when you're at home school. But they were still unhappy. When I was growing up, my father wanted me to continue the family business, so he took me with him to the office, I didn't want to so he then decided to treat my brother like a human being. My mother wanted me to be a doctor. Neurosurgeon, to be exact. When I was eighteen, I ran away. I left my innocent little brother there, but only if he knew. I changed my name and moved to New York from Los Angeles. I enrolled at university, had money saved, but it wasn't enough to finish my education, so I had to get a job. During the day, when I didn't have lectures, I worked in a café near the university, but from there the money wasn't enough. I had to think of something. I became a stripper in a nightclub on the other side of the city, where there was little chance that anyone who knew me would see me. But no one found out, I only went Friday and Saturday nights, i made a lot of good money. I'm beautiful, I can't deny it, long brown hair, I had a nice body, as my mother thought it would be good for me if I started fitness at twelve, and my father enrolled me in martial arts – karate, boxing, wrestling. My eyes were light green and maybe they're the only thing in me I like. Except for my high IQ, of course. When I took the test at thirteen, my parents initially thought that there had been some mistake, that I could not have an IQ – 197. Anyway, that's the past. I didn't quit my job at the cafeteria, my friends would suspect something, none of them realized I had a money problem, that's what I was trying to achieve. Like none of them knew my parents had a chain of hotels and were millionaires. I don't see this as a mistake, but rather a way of survival. But how far would I have come if I'd stayed with my parents? True, I wouldn't have a money problem, but I'd rather struggle on my own than be tortured. My whole life there was just books, karate and "dress well so you don't embarrass us." I don't like to use my full intellectual capacity, but because of my work as a lawyer, I had to. With my best friend from university opened a law firm after we graduated. Henry's a great guy, I can count on him for absolutely anything. He is quite attractive – his hair looked like a massive red bush, surrounding two wide brown eyes. Freckles slightly seded his cheeks, but not so much was noticeable unless it was in the sunlight. He always wore tighter shirts, which his muscular body stood out from. Women stick to him all the time, but I pushed them away. It took him a long time to admit he was gay, but I had long guessed that his roommate wasn't just his roommate. On his birthday, I wanted to surprise him, God, what sounds were audible, so I didn't go in his apartment, I went home and came back later. If he hadn't told me, I'd probably have asked him. I'm a direct person, and I don't like "detours". Sometimes you have to, especially when you want to get confession from someone, directness there doesn't help. I don't accept clients that I'm sure are to blame, I don't like to lose. But that's only when I'm at work, outside the office, I'm a completely different person. I love alcohol and s*x, sometimes I do things that, if anyone knows, they'll never let me be a lawyer. Taking a risk is the main thing in my life. - Eileen? I turned my eyes to Henry, who was on the other side of the table. - I'm sorry, I was thinking about something. - I figured so. - he said. - You want another one? I looked at the martini-empty glass in front of me. It's been a mess in my head for a few days now. - I'll get one. - I said, and got up. - Be careful. - he said, pointing to the bar. - Why? - I asked and looked at the man who was sitting alone at the bar. - Just listen to me. I nodded without saying anything and headed to the bar. I was a few centimeters away from the man, but because of Henry's comment, I didn't want to turn to look at him, even though I was quite curious. - What can I get for you? - blond-haired barmaid asked me. - Martini, please. - Just a moment. - Take your time. She started making the martini, some ice and cherry. Mm, my favorite. - In order for a business to develop, workers must be quick with customer orders. Don't you think so? The man next to me spoke and I turned to him. I looked him in the eyes, incredibly black and deep eyes that showed a man of extraordinary mental strength. His face did not make the least impression of warmth and softness, as if it were covered with granite. - It depends on the business. In some cases, things should be done slowly and carefully. - I said. - That's right but in this case, there's nothing like "take your time". - But in a hurry, something can still go wrong. Breaking a glass, pouring Jack Daniels instead of Jim Beam. - I said and looked at his glass filled with whiskey. - Do I need to know how you know there's a Jack Daniels in my glass? - he asked and laughed. - Nowadays, the average man mostly drinks Jack Daniels, thinking "I'll be able to get her attention by ordering expensive whiskey." At the same time, Jack Daniels isn't even expensive, sixty dollars for a bottle, come on man, buy Isabella's Islay and the burning taste you feel in your throat after drinking a single sip is disgusting. - I said. The barmaid left the martini glass in front of me, looking shocked. - Have you ever seen Isabella's Islay? Because believe me, the only expensive thing about this whiskey is the diamonds and gold on the bottle. Even the taste is not so good. It's too soft, and I prefer solid whiskey like this. - he said and took a sip. Isabella's islay price is over $6 million, my father had received it as a gift, I remember drinking a few sips, but they wouldn't let me drink more, it tasted pretty good. He is rich enough to afford a whiskey like that? I looked around. My father used to say "Rich people don't go to a places like this". I'm not rich, but even if I was I would come here often, this bar is the only place that calms me down, not just because of alcohol. It is located on the Lower East Side, a simple yet sophisticated, dark floors and walls, a wooden bar that is illuminated at night with a golden glow. Recently someone had bought it and there were rumors that the new owner wanted to change the interior, I hope this does not happen. Even on my own, I feel pretty comfortable here. - I drank that kind of whiskey once a long time ago. - I said. - Do you want some? I hid a bottle behind the bar. - he smiled at me. - Maybe next time. - I said and smiled back at him. - Then, can I have your number, so I know there will be next time? I'm old-fashioned. I don't want to get to know each other through messages, just write down where we're going to meet and know if we're home safely. If you want to talk about something let's meet or just call me. I hope he thinks that way, too. - Of course. He handed me my phone and I wrote my number. I added my name and called myself. - My name is Eileen by the way, I wrote it down on my number. - My name is Enzo. - he said and took his phone out of my hand. - That's not your boyfriend, right? I looked back and saw Henry looking at us angrily. - No, he is just a friend. - I think he wants to kill me. - he laughed. - He wants to kill every single man around me. - Does he like you? - No. He is just my overprotective gay best friend. - I emphasized the word gay because I want him to know that there's nothing going to happen between me and Henry. - Alright, thank you for the number. - he smiled. His smile makes me get butterflies in my stomach. Life is full of surprises, but you never know if they're pleasant or not. Looking at Enzo, I hope it's a pleasant surprise. - I have to get back to the table. It was nice to meet you. - I said. - It was nice to meet you too. I grabbed my glass, almost forgot what I had come to the bar for, and headed to the table where Henry was still looking angry at me. - What was that? - he asked through his teeth. - We just talked. - I said and sat down. - Talk? Eileen, do you even know who is he? - No, but you're going to tell me, right? - He is a killer. - How do you know that? - Everybody knows. - he sighed. - Then why isn't he in jail? - Eileen, just listen to me, he is no good. - Henry, you are my best friend, I love you and I know you want the best for me, but let me judge for myself. Just this one time. - What am I supposed to do with you... Okay, make it yours, but don't come crying to me because he's an asshole. - Then tell me, Henry... Why he isn't in jail, who was killed by him, how was th I knew he was going to give up, I'm glad he wanted what was best for me, but I think it's time he let me go for a while. He treats me like I'm a 4-year-old trying to run with scissors in her hand. No one knew he was gay, so at university everyone thought we were together. But after I showed up with my ex-boyfriend, people were telling Henry I was cheating on him, and then he started telling them he was gay and that we weren't dating. He warned me about my ex but I didn't listen to him, so he started pushing away every guy who tried to get near me. My first and last boyfriend. Don't let anyone stop you from getting to know someone, regardless of the opinions of others, especially if it's about love or wanting to be about love. It's better to build an opinion of someone on your own than to listen to others. It's true that the things people say may turn out to be true, but what if all the things people say turn out to be lies and fiction? It's better to get burned than to regret it in the end that you didn't even try. Henry said Enzo was a killer, but then why isn't he in jail? Why people don't know what's causing him not to be in jail and why they don't know who was killed by Enzo if all this is true? Or how he killed them.. Something doesn't add up in this whole story, but I hope I can figure out exactly what it is. - Do you want to go home? - Henry asked. - Let's stay a little longer. - I said and pointed to my glass filled with martini that I didn't even touch. - I promised my boyfriend I'd be home by 1am. It's 12:23am, we have more than 30 minutes drive. - Then go, I'll take a uber. - Promise me if you're going to talk to him, do it here. Don't go anywhere with him alone, don't let him drive you home, don't tell him where you live, where you work, absolutely no personal information that can bring you two alone without anyone around. - he said, looking at me with concern. The thing that worries me about Henry is that when he promises something, he keeps his promise no matter what. I've told him many times, instead of saying "I promise you," to say "I promise nothing, because I don't know what the circumstances are going to be, and I don't know if I'm going to be able to keep my promise". People take advantage of this, especially his boyfriend, constantly telling him "promise me this, promise me that" . Because he knows that no matter what happens around him, Henry will do what he promised. - I promise. - Stay safe. - he said and left. Honestly, I had no plans to talk to Enzo when Henry left. Of course, if he doesn't come here. It's just me and another table with four people. Some time ago, this bar was full of people, with life. We had to book a table three weeks ahead so we could settle in. But now there are few people who come, I wonder how much money he manages to earn. In order to be able to get into his personal space and find out more about the rumor case, the first thing I have to do is earn his trust in some way, and what better way than to make money. Everybody loves money. - Did they leave you alone? - someone said. A stranger was standing near the table. His straight dyed blonde hair went all the way to his shoulders, light-blue eyes like the day sky, probably lenses. I don't know what he's trying to achieve with his look on someone he probably isn't. Are there so many insecurities under this pointless facade... - You are too beautiful to be here on your own. - he continued. - Thank you for the compliment, nobody has ever said that to me. - I said sarcastically.. - Can I sit here? - No. - I said and took a sip of the martini. - No?! - he looked quite shocked. - You want me to spell it to you or to write it on my forehead? I can do both. - Don't play hard to get, honey. - he leaned over to me. - I don't play hard to get, I just don't want you to get me. I got up of my seat, he took a few steps back. I put the phone in my little black backpack, I can't believe how cheeky men are sometimes. I tried to walk past the table, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. - You're making the biggest mistake of your life, honey. You don't know who I am. - Well, then we'll have to get to know each other in court. - I said, scrambling in my pocket, I pulled out my business card and handed it to him. - Enjoy your freedom while you have it. The stranger didn't say anything. He went back to the table where his friends were looking at us and laughing. I don't think that's ever happened to him. I hope he's never done anything like this before. Damn, how many more times do I have to do this.. Should I stay a little longer or just leave? What am I supposed to do at home, it's Friday night, I don't work on Saturdays. I put my stuff on the chair Henry was sitting on before he left. I hope this jerk stanger doesn't come back. - APOLOGIZE! - I heard someone yelling.