Prologue
1915 Words
Three years before our red-stringed couple physically met, Primrose Barlos walked into an exclusive 7-star hotel.
“Name.”
“Primrose Barlos.”
The scary looking goon grunted and began to walk away.
She followed, walking the marbled floors confidently like she owned the place.
Pulling the fur coat her best friend Aurora had lent her tightly around her body, she hoped she hid her fears well. Because, in truth, she was not at all confident.
This was all an act.
She was a simple, scared young woman who did not belong in places like these.
She did not belong in this silk dress either, and it would take her and her mother’s combined annual salary to afford the shoes she had on.
The whole outfit was Aurora's, who had been kind enough to lend it to her.
“If you are going to demean yourself, you should at least look dignified when you first enter the place.” She had said. “It will discourage too much disrespect from them.”
Aurora had also told her to walk in confidently, chin up. There was no need to be scared of anyone there if she was going to f*ck their boss.
The goon stopped before another goon with a scar on his face.
“You?” He looked at her from head to toe.
“Yes.”
“This way, please.” The man led the way up an open staircase, while his colleague walked away.
Prim followed him, reminding herself why she was here. The thought motivated her.
She was here so her mother could have the heart surgery and not die.
She reminded herself this again and again to prevent her running back down the stairs and out of this building.
“Please.” The man with a scarred face gestured towards a door he pulled open. He moved to the side so she could go in.
“The boss is waiting,” he said.
Prim managed to maintain her composure, although coming to meet with a dangerous mafia leader scared the hell out of her.
I am doing this for mamita, she muttered again and again under her breath.
This was it.
She could not turn back now.
She nodded at the man with the scarred face and finally walked in.
The hotel room was as large as two apartments in her community. And she suspected even the bedside lamps here could fund her mother’s surgery.
“Keep your purse on the dresser and come stand here.” She heard a deep voice say from the large bed in the room.
She was not close enough to see him, but she obeyed anyway.
She dropped her house keys and purse on the dresser, adjusting them in a way she could grab for them if she ever had to run out of this place.
She was completely unaware though that a tiny button-camera attached to the purse’s clasp had revved to life on the purse's impact with the table, and began taking in everything.
She exhaled, and confidently went to stand before the huge bed.
“Take the coat off.” The voice commanded.
She could see him now. He was not old and ugly as she thought. He looked fit, big and strong.
She began to quickly shrug Aurora's fur coat off.
“No!” The man shouted, startling her. “Take it off slowly.”
She blinked, her throat beginning to itch with tears as she obeyed his command.
She slowly slipped the coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor as she had seen women do in movies.
“Walk to the door and back.”
Prim did as she was told, all the while consoling herself that this sacrifice would be worth it.
She heard the man inhale sharply. “You have a stunning body.”
Prim swallowed, should she take that as a compliment?
“You realize I asked for a virgin?” The mafia boss asked.
Prim nodded. That was why the money was so huge. The darkweb post had said the man would pay a huge sum for the experience of sleeping with a virgin. The money was enough to pay for her mother’s heart surgery two times over.
“Good. Age?”
“Twenty-one.” Prim responded.
“Dance for me.” The man said, pressing a remote control button. Slow, sensual music filled the room.
Prim hesitated.
She thought the man would just get on with it, and they would be done.
All these demands.
How much longer could she stand this before her conscience won?
She slowly began to sway her hips from side to side, pushing her hair back and caressing her body seductively.
“Keep your eyes on mine,” the man said. He was crawling towards the edge of the bed now.
His eyes were dark and reminded Prim of a cobra.
She stopped, suddenly feeling unsafe. She had to get out of here.
“Take your dress off slowly. Don't stop dancing.”
She hooked her fingers into the strap of her dress, a purple, delicate silk dress.
The strap slipped off, but the dress clung to her hips, leaving just her breasts exposed.
To take the dress off completely she would have to tug a little.
At that moment, she decided she would not do this.
As the man reached out to touch her, she stepped back.
He frowned.
Her eyes darted to her purse. She hoped these high heels didn't fail her.
She grabbed her coat off the floor, and ran for her purse.
The man reacted quickly.
He lunged and grabbed her, his nails scratching her skin.
“Get off me, you pig!” She screamed in fright.
The man clenched his fist, and swung hard on her chin.
The force of the blow crushed her bottom lip between her teeth, making her bleed.
She staggered, but her hand had finally closed around her house keys on the dresser.
She reached behind, and scratched the man deeply across his eyelids.
He screamed and his grip around her loosened, but when she tried to get away, she still couldn’t.
“You are so going to regret this.” The man said, painfully fisting her hair while he attempted to open his bleeding eyes.
Prim thought quickly as the man pulled her to the bed.
If she did not get out of here now, it'd be over. This ferocious pig would practically maul her.
She did not struggle, but kept her eyes pinned on the bedside lamp.
She grasped it as soon as she was within its reach.
She held her breath as she swung back hard against the big man’s head.
For a whole minute, the room was silent.
The man’s hands fell off her, and then she heard a loud thud behind her.
Prim froze, relief and shock gripping her at the same time.
Had she killed him?
She nervously turned around.
And her hand flew to her mouth, managing to stifle her scream just in time.
There was a deep cut on the man’s head that was bleeding out onto the white rug.
She began to back away in shock.
Had she killed him? Oh Prim, you'd look terrible in an orange jail suit.
She spun round, startled, when her back hit a wall.
She grabbed her purse and coat. Still practically half dressed, she ran out the door.
Jerking the door open, she ran right into the scarred-faced man standing there.
He froze.
She did not give him a moment to recover from his shock before she bolted.
***
Andrea wheeled her cart to the door.
“Room service.” She said quietly as she raised her hand to knock, but paused.
She frowned, looking around.
This was weird. Why were none of those terrifying guards standing here?
All the times she had come up to this suite in the past. At least one person stood outside the door.
She turned back to the door and her frown deepened as she noticed it was slightly ajar.
She looked around again. The hallway was completely empty.
She shrugged, and raised her hand again to knock, but again, she stopped.
She drew close to the door, and peered in through the little crack.
She gasped.
The guest was lying on the floor, the surrounding rug bloodied.
That guard with an angry scar on his face was peering into the man’s face. Then he did something that made Andrea’s blood run cold.
He picked a glass from the shatter on the floor, and took it to his master’s throat.
Andrea stepped back, nearly knocking her cart over.
She instinctively knew she should never have seen what she just did.
She did not know who these people who suddenly lodged in their hotel were. But she knew they were dangerous.
She grabbed her cart and ran.
***
Egan hesitated at the stairs landing.
He knew he should just go to the airport already, but he had this pull to see his father one last time.
He did not exactly like the man. But now that he was certain he would never return to this damn country ever, and would never see the old man till he died, he felt guilty about not seeing him one last time at least.
He started to walk up the stairs to the hotel room, but stopped suddenly.
His father was smart. What if he guessed he was running off for good?
Egan shook his head, and turned away.
It was not worth the risk.
He was walking down the stairs when he felt someone running down behind him. Unbothered, he did not turn.
The person ran down past him. It was a disheveled red-haired woman, shrugging on a thick fur coat.
She was so fast, all he saw was her back and hair.
He frowned.
He did not like women very much, but he hated the sloppy, messy ones even more. What was so urgent that she could not dress properly before stepping out?
His frown deepened in disgust.
An hour later, he was about to climb up the rungs into his private jet when one of his guards barred his way.
“Are you insane?” He could not help yelling.
“I apologize, Sovereign. But you cannot leave anymore.”
All Egan’s fury evaporated.
“What did you say? What did you just call me?”
The guard bowed and said nothing, at the same time his phone began to ring. He looked to see Riccardo calling.
“Captain?”
Egan said into the phone with dread.
“The Sovereign is dead. He was murdered by a wh*re. Please come quickly. The family has begun to arrive.”
Egan felt his world topple over.
This was exactly what he had been running away from.
He had been so close to freedom.
If he had not gone to that hotel, he would have been in the skies by now.
He let out a deep bellow, and the guards around bowed their heads sadly.
They probably thought he was mourning his father.
But he wasn’t.
He was mourning the life he just missed out on.
Whoever this wh*re was, she just ruined his life. She had sentenced him to a life of dark mafia politics.
As he bellowed again and again into the dark. He vowed to kill her very slowly when he caught her.
- Writer
