Rosalie Reed, a woman with everything. She's famous, rich, beautiful and successful. However, she holds a deep dark secret.
She was raised in the middle of her father's business. The mafia.
The fame and fortune has gotten to her head, unable to cop...
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"She's taking too long," Christian whined in my ear. And he was right, she was taking her sweet time.
But what confused me most, is that she agreed to come here. Her voice sounded different, as if the spark was ripped from her personality.
"Boss, she's here," the security guard spoke. I nodded, signalling him to bring her in.
And there she stood. She had bags under her eyes, a piece of her hair was scrunched. She didn't look the same.
"Take a seat," I told her, pointing to the seat in front of me.
And she did. She obeyed.
"You know why you're here?"
She nodded.
Christian coughed and nudged me in the side. He then signalled to leave for a moment.
"Excuse me, I'll be right back," I told her before leaving the room.
Christian practically pulled me out of the room and slammed the door. "Bring her to a fucking hospital, she's having a stroke!"
What...
"Oh no, not a stroke, she's in shock!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
He sighed and waved his arms. "Look at her eyes, her pupils are fucking huge, she's breathing too quickly and she's pale as fuck."
"Well what if she's on drugs?" I asked him. If we did bring her to a hospital and if they found drugs in her system, they could arrest her.
"That's not fucking drugs! She's in shock!"
I've seen people on drugs, I've lived with people on drugs. And to be honest, she didn't seem to be one of those people. The only give away for me was the dilated pupils.
So he was right once again, she didn't look the same. "You stay out here, I'm going to talk to her."
Christian agreed and leaned against the wall, as if he was waiting for something to happen. I rolled my eyes and walked back into the office.
"Right," I spoke, "you know why you're here?"
"Yes, I remember the call, I'm not dumb," she quickly replied. But again, she didn't sound the same.
"Tell me what you know."
That's when she looked me in the eye. Her pupils were enlarged, she looked drained and exhausted.
"I wrote it down," she told me. She handed me a piece of paper, keeping her eyes on me.
I unfolded it.
I'm not telling you shit.
"That's fucking it!" I screamed.
She didn't flinch, she didn't even slightly move. Her eyes stayed on mine. "Don't you realize what the fuck you're doing!?"
