Falling for Deceit || WATTYS 2017

13

A/N: Hello lovelies! Yes, I finally updated! But as you may or may not know, I've been in Amsterdam for the past few days, so I didn't have time to write. This chapter, however, is extra long, so enjoy =)

-xoxo, Sophia

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I spent the next day doing a repeated cleaning of the penthouse. And the next. And the one after that. I had lost track of the date, but I had a vague recollection that it was a Friday. And that was only because I knew that tomorrow was Saturday, and that Fabio had informed me that Mr. Beretti had authorized me indirectly to take leave tomorrow. In fact, Fabio had been escorting me to the penthouse every morning, and I had learned quite a lot during those repeated twenty-second conversations to the top of the Golden Heights and back down again for four days. In fact, he had an older sister. He was twenty-four, which was the same as Mr. Beretti. His favorite colour was red. And he took his coffee black, strictly imported from Italy. Okay, so maybe that wasn't that much, but twenty seconds really didn't offer that much opportunity for long and meaningful conversations.

The knock on my bedroom door made me hurry towards it as I struggled to clasp my hair into the usual bun at the back of my neck. "Two seconds, Fabio! I've locked the door, so it'll just take-" I fumbled with the lock with one hand and managed to secure the chignon, all the while opening up the door. My hand dropped. "Oh." Was all I could manage. The older man wearing that iron expression was not Fabio. "Hello," I continued, discreetly peering over his shoulder as if I was expecting my usual, blonde comrade to spring forth any second. "You're not Fabio." His cold expression didn't budge in the slightest. I took in his pressed and tailored black suit, as well as the Fedora that was tilted down over his head. Muscles clearly rippled underneath the material and the obvious bulge in the inside of his jacket indicated a weapon of some sort. He was one of Mr. Beretti's endless supply of bulldozing henchmen. It was clear that thin and scrawny or big and sloppy did not fit into the mafia's job description. "How can I help you," I asked politely, smiling tightly. All the man did was let out a grunt and turn around, before marching down the hall. "Okay," I muttered, hastily locking the door behind me and hurrying after him. So Fabio wasn't escorting me up today. Even though I shrugged it off like it was nothing, the prickling at the back of my neck wasn't exactly comforting. Or maybe that was just the itchy hair tie.

"So," I began, falling into step behind the racing man. "You've been promoted huh? I'm not sure if Mr. Beretti's told you about me, but I can be quite a handful, so I'm not sure that you can handle-" The elevator chime stopped my flow of words, but it was the nasty glare that was sent my way that fully cut me off and made me direct my gaze to the floor. Those were some really nice floor boards.

"In," the man ordered when the doors slid open. I shot him a look but walked in. The ride up was tense and silent and extremely uncomfortable. "Out," he demanded when the bell chimed and the doors opened up. I walked out of the elevator and waited for him to follow. But when I turned around the doors were closing again and he was still standing in there. I frowned in confusion.

"Aren't you supposed to-" The doors slid shut completely and the elevator descended. "Okay then." I turned towards the door that would lead into the penthouse and took a second to just stand in the dark foyer and staring at those crystals that hung from the chandelier. So much beauty in such a hollow place. I tore my eyes away from the crystalline fixture and walked into the elegant suite. The place was devoid of any personality, as usual, and I felt utterly small and alone in it. There were no paintings, even though all walls were glass so that would have proven difficult, but even so, there wasn't even a misplaced book in sight. Everything was nicely decorated yes, but it felt stiff and cold. Just like its owner. I took a moment to just wander around the place. Fabio had always been with me at the beginning, which had given me no other option but to get to work, but this time, I didn't have any supervision. A secretive smile formed on my face as I let my fingers wander over the glass and chrome high tables that I'd sprayed and wiped down so many times now, even though there was hardly ever any dust on them. I knew why I was ordered to clean Mr. Beretti's penthouse every day, even though he hardly lived in it or spent time here. He simply wanted me close to keep an eye on me, and it wasn't like I was going to tell the marble statues about the Omertà contract. Not that I would to a human being anyway. I liked my head where it was on my neck just fine.