His Bloody Smile | ✓

01 - love

"you're way too hot to be acting like that"

•••

When I opened the front door, I noticed today's newspaper rolled up into a tube, tightly held with an elastic band. I bent down to pick it up, wondering what the headline could be.

I stepped back inside the mansion and shut the door behind me, walking towards the formal dining room. My heels clicked on the stone floors of the entrance as I moved to the long wooden corridor that led me into the spacious room, where a large table with various seats was right in the centre.

A wide window was letting in natural light, illuminating the entire room. Ten modern chairs were propped against the table, five on each side, and a white rug was placed underneath the furniture. A small chandelier was hanging from the ceiling that, when needed, brightened everything clearly.

I sat down on one of the middle seats and opened the newspaper. My eyes scanned the printed ink quickly and sharply: 'Handless Thief Strikes Again'. I groaned; what did he do this time?

I read through the article, getting more frustrated as I engulfed myself deeper and deeper into the written lines. I was about to finish when I abruptly heard someone clear their throat.

I snapped my attention away from the story in my hands and met Andrew Moreno's brown eyes. He had become my boss a couple of months ago, and I enjoyed working under him so far.

My heart stopped when I noticed his expression; he did not look happy at all. He was definitely not cross with me since I was only doing my job; unless I had forgotten a task that he had asked me to do. I was about to open my mouth to speak when his lips broke into a smile. I stared at him in confusion.

"Didn't I tell you today's headlines were going to be about me?" he laughed. I eased my shoulders in relief; he was not annoyed, good.

Andrew Moreno, widely known as the Handless Thief, resembled anything but a criminal; his brown hair and dark eyes made him average looking and made him get considered a handsome man.

Except for his vast collection of tattoos and the fact that he was living a double life, everything about him was relatively normal; a healthy, fit gentleman that happened to be extremely rich at the young age of twenty-four. Nothing too odd about that.

"I would have known if you told me what you were planning on doing," I rolled my eyes and slowly stood up, placing my hands on top of the newspaper lying flat on the table, "Robbing a bank? Seriously? This is not the time to steal thousands only for fun." He scoffed.

"Will you relax? It wasn't only for fun," he air quoted. I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Oh, really?" I asked sarcastically, "Then what was the reason behind it?" Andrew parted his lips to reply, but I did not give him a chance. "Because last time I checked your bank account, you do not need money. And when I am not informed of your next atrocity, that means you were probably bored when you committed it." He smiled.

"They are not atrocities," he mocked my accent and neared the table, "They are-" Andrew stopped and grabbed the newspaper from the surface. "- 'notably planned and perfected heists'." He read the article I had been immersed in mere moments ago. "They still don't know who I am, so we are all clear, love." He folded it neatly and threw it back onto the table. I sighed, still irritated.

"You cannot keep risking your identity like this," I reproached him, "And stop calling me love; I am your assistant; act professionally for once." I grabbed the newspaper and smoothly walked into the kitchen next door; he followed me.