The Silent Oath, taken

Chapter 7.

Laying on my bed, as my sheets tangled around half my body. My eyes focused on the ceiling fan, as it turned at a medium speed. My hair was messy, from being pulled with frustration from my hair tie and my underwear began to choke me.

Last night was weirdly fun, even after I embarrassed myself by asking Enzo if he was ready to leave. Not knowing that he was one of the founders and most beneficial sponsor. Even when that women—Nikita, after she smirked at me, as he took her hand and lead her onto the dance floor.

In that moment last night, I had a feeling of jealousy. Just a feeling, that I shouldn’t be feeling. He was my boss….he is my boss. But it was nice to have spend a night, not at the club or on the phone. Not worrying, even though that’s how the night started.

In a weird way it was nice for someone, even if it wasn’t planned and I was made a fool.

It was nice to have been taken care of.

I was feeling odd, even as they had dropped me, and Enzo had taken my hand. I remember the soft tingling feeling, as his large hand clasped my smaller one. The way he suddenly started a staring contest with me, and lost. The soft words that left his mouth, like ice blocks and hot water at the same time.

“You shouldn’t be so jealous Ms Brown. Your my type.”

I could feel my cheeks turning red even, as I laid under the cooling wind of my fan.

What was going on with me? I barely know the man and here I was blushing, with just the thought of him. Was this what Meg meant when she told me it was a wrong move to lock my gaze on his, that night in the V.I.P section? That he would lure me in, like a evil witch with candy and children?

Letting out a sigh, I sat up. Pushing my body against the head board of my bed. My eyes lazily glancing at the clock that sat comfortably on the wall, above. 9: 45, my shift starting at 10.

With a groan, as I stretched my body. I got up, heading straight for my bathroom, as I began undressing along the way. Just as I opened my bathroom door, a loud knock was heard from my front door. Grabbing my white silk gown, I tied it around my naked body, as I moved to my front door.

Peeping through my peephole, I saw nothing but black.

Opening my door, yet leaving it on the chain, I looked through. Seeing the same man, who last night had kidnapped me and took me to a mansion filled with armed men in black. Besides him stood Enzo, a grin on his face, as he gives me a scanned up and down.

“Wouldn’t you be so kind to open the door, Ms Brown, you have guest.” Enzo spoke, his words seemed almost slur like, but firm.

Frowning my brows, I opened my mouth to decline. But his bodyguard pushed against the door, causing me to step back and stare at the door.
“What’s wrong with you?!” I asked loudly, pausing as I grabbed my phone. “I’m going to call the police, if you don’t stop right now!”

The was a slight pause, before I heard his voice. It sounded so cocky, yet painful at the same time. “Ms Brown, if I were you, I would move as far from the front door as possible.”

Not knowing what to do, I stepped back, as the door pushed against the chains hold. His bodyguard probably, forcing his way in. With another push I watched the chains hold falter, before the third push knocked the chains from the wall and the door opened.

Enzo and his guard stepped in and that’s when I saw it. The bright, crimson red colour of the blood that coloured his suit jacket and his white shirt. His guard—Ricky, turned to face Enzo, before helping him into my apartment, the trail of blood following close behind.

Not sure what to do, I closed my front door. Scared that my neighbours would walk out of their homes and see what was going on in mine.

Yet I didn’t panic, as hard as I wanted to, I didn’t. Some way in this world, it looked just to familiar. My body didn’t go into the panic? Any person would, seeing blood, instead it made my brain try and figure out why he was bleeding so much? Was it a close range shot? Did he start it? Probably did.

So the words that fell from my lips weren’t a scream of terror or a question of fear, instead it was. “What do you need?”

Enzo looked up at me, a lazy smirk on his face. “See, Ricky. Told you, you’ll like her.” He spoke, as he looked down at Ricky, who was pulling small bottles from his pockets.

Ricky looked up at me, rolling his eyes, before looking down at what he was doing. “Sure Boss, whatever you say.”

I stepped closer, looking over the bottles. It was all alcohol. He wanted to clean the wound, but that wasn’t going to be strong enough. So I turned on my heels and moved to my kitchen, grabbing my sealed bottle of Russian vodka and the first aid kit.

“Use this.” I said placing the bottle onto my coffee table. “Those are not going to be strong enough if it’s a close range shot.”

Ricky nodded, before he opened my first aid kit and began sterilizing everything over. Mr Stefano—Enzo stood up, he began removing his jacket, then he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“This is why I hate wearing a white shirt.” He mumbled, as he pulled the material from his body.

Pure muscle, over broad shoulders and thick swirls of dark inked tattoos. I stepped forward, my curiosity getting the best of me, as I looked at his wound.

The hole was massive, that was definitely close range.
My fingers move out, as I touched the surrounding area. Getting a little hiss from the big bad wolf. “9mm bullet, most likely a cop gun.” I said without much thought.

Ricky stopped what he was doing as he and Enzo looked at me.
“How do you know that?” asked Ricky, as he stood his full height.

Swallowing, I shrugged, as I stood up looking between the two men, who made my 2 bed room apartment seem like a single room.

“I don’t know.”

A silence filled the air, before Enzo hissed again and Ricky jumped into motion. Cleaning and bandaging the wound. He did Enzo's back as well, as the bullet shot straight through.

“Shouldn’t you get to a hospital?” I questioned, making the mistake of allowing my voice to have concern in it.

Enzo smirked at me. “Is Mama scared for me? Do she care?” he asked in a baby voice.

Not knowing what to say, as my eyes glanced down at his chest. The faint layer of dark coloured hair, that sat in the middle of his chest. The scars that littered his body, if you looked hard enough and past the tattoos, you could see the deep fading scars. I simply crossed my arms and huffed.

“If you done, please leave.” I paused. “Don’t bring your bullshit to my home again Mr Stefano.”

Yet he only shrugged, his smirk widening on his face, as he licked his lips.