Addiction| 18+

7|tour

TW-ED

***

"This is the library," Harrison told me, gesturing to the large room.

The lighting was dim, except for some long and narrow windows that looked out to the drive. Bookcases covered the walls along with a huge fireplace that sat in the middle with arm chairs on both sides. This room made me feel warm and welcomed as I continued to look around.

"Why is there a library?" I asked him,"A mean I get for reading, but it seems pretty big if it's just meant for books."

"He uses it for meetings sometimes, when his business partner is more of a friend or associate," he told me.

I bit my lip scared to ask my next question. "Grey said he was giving me the tour, how come he's not now?"

"He forgot about his meeting." He said with a shrug. I narrowed my eyes at him not feeding into his lie.

"Okay, what's next?" I said curiously.

He tilted his head towards another arch way.

"This way," he said, before walking towards it.

What I found surprised me. I thought these men knew about my addiction. Did my brother not tell them? A huge table circled in the middle, safely guarding the alcohol behind it. Along with high top tables scattered randomly around the room. Which contrasted well with the "bar look."

"Can I ask you something?" I said looking over to Harrison who was leaning up against the circled bar.

"Shoot me," He said.

"How much do you guys know about me? Like personal?" I asked.

"We know as much as your brother told us." He said with a shrug.

I kept silent for a second trying to regain my thoughts. There wouldn't be alcohol here if he knew about it right? I knew that whatever I said to this man he would tell Grey immediately. It's not like I could read him either, this man has mastered a poker face.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

I nodded as I followed him back out to the void. He turned right and then turned another right. "This is his study or office." He said, opening up the two french glass doors.

I poked my head through, not feeling anywhere close to comfortable to go in. This guy did have some taste though, even if it was a little modern. The floor was a nice light grey that matched the walls of the house. Light rained in through the double glass french doors. A large wooden desk sat in the middle of the room with a large black swivel chair behind it. Paper work stood stacked up on his desk, neatly organized. A lounge sofa also sat to the side of the room along with some filling cabinets in the corner.

"What made you want to work for the mafia?" I asked as I decided to walk through the doors. "You must've had a regular life before this, why'd you want to throw that away?" I questioned.

He took his eyes off the floor and looked at me. He didn't look happy as to what I had just asked. "And why would you care? " He snapped back.

I took some steps back regretting what I said. "I chose this life in order to support my daughter, yea it's not amazing but it keeps her alive and healthy. But what would I know?" He said angrily.