The Beauty And The Heist

Chapter-20

DeLuca Mansion.

Adrian should never have sent Damien and Antonio shopping. Antonio bought me a black leather jacket and a tank top that said 'death metal!!!' with ripped jeans and combat boots. Not exactly my style.

Damien bought me a pink dress that said 'Barbie Girl.'

Guess which one I chose.

The clothes did make me feel ten times more confident and badass. I dared anyone to even talk to me. I smirked at my reflection in the mirror. Atleast he'd gotten my size right.

I walked downstairs.

"So where's Carelia? He's with Carelia. Right?" I asked.

"Sure." Antonio said, "Adrian refuses to call. We have to go and see."

"Hey Adrian? Ever heard of this thing called a cellphone? I know your satallite is sitting in Il labirinto, but still."

If looks could kill, the one Adrian gave me could have killed me, resurrected me and killed me in a more painful way.

I glared back at him. He turned around and walked up the stairs.

"You should eat." I said, gesturing to the lunch Isaac was cooking.

"Your face just ruined my appetite." He said.

"Then my work here is done." I said, turning around and walking upstairs.

Antonio appeared a second later with my food. I ate it in silence, watching television the entire time. After that nothing seemed to hold my interest or amuse me anymore.

I needed to catch up on my sleep. I gave up after waking up in cold sweat. I saw a man slit his throat and I was covered in blood. The rest of the dream, mercifully slipped from my memory.

I was in my old room. I'd broken the keypad though, and yelled at Antonio to get a TV set installed.

I vaguely recalled the chit in my bra.

I needed to see what that was.

I went inside the bathroom and opened it. It was a tiny square of paper, approximately five inches long. There was something printed on it.

Suddenly the door opened and I threw the chit behind.

Adrian stood in the doorway, wearing a three piece black suit and leather gloves, even if he had the attitude of the Devil, his looks were angelic. His hair was sexily messed up. He threw something at me. I tried to catch it in midair and missed.

"What?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

"Are you visually impaired?"

I looked behind me. It was my passport. I opened it and saw a Schengen visa. A visa for most of the European Union.

"We're going to Europe!" I exclaimed. It was a childhood dream.

"I like the way you state the obvious with such a confident sense of discovery." He said sarcastically.

"Amazing attitude. I feel sorry for you."

"Most people would, if they knew I were engaging in a conversation with you." Adrian retorted.

"Because you can't match my intelligence?" I sassed.

"The intelligence that caused you to get kidnapped by the Mafia?" He asked sweetly.

"Well, the only con is that the boss has a personality as bright as a black hole." I retorted.

"And the captive is twice as dense as one." He fired back.