Noir (Tom Holland)

Ten

    I awoke to an empty bed. I thought somehow he would still be in the roo, but he wasn't. Not even a note was at the bedside. I didn't mind, however, I knew that I would see him again later today.  Today. The final night of the gala. The night that Harrison was planning to kill Tom. I remembered the last night's conversation and closed my eyes, resting my face on my hands. How could I be so fucking idiotic? I just spent the last night of Tom's life getting fucked without one care for his mortality. All I had cared about on this trip was me and my fate, but I didn't think of him. What would happen to Jacob or Mark once Harrison was in control? What would happen to Tom's brothers, or Gilda?

    Finally deciding to take myself out of my pity party, I looked up and saw the time. It was nearly noon, Tom had probably been gone four hours now. On his own. It was a stupid thought, to think that he was protected when I'm there when he literally has an army of men that would kill for him. But I also remembered that sometimes men weren't as loyal as you asked them to be.

    I did my morning routine of brushing my hair and putting on my makeup. As much as I loved it when Gilda did it, I needed to do this one. I needed to know I can do something right, even if my eyeliner was still a little uneven, but I couldn't help it. My hands hadn't stopped shaking and I felt the tremors relocate to my legs. "Stop it!" I whispered harshly to myself. It didn't work, but I also wasn't going to fall down and cry for the fifth time. That was in the past. Now I had to think of something in order to keep Tom's head.

    I only had two gowns left and those were for the evening, so I decided to follow my gut with clothes and wore what I usually did to work- a black pencil skirt and a nice shirt. One last time, I looked in the mirror and chuckled slightly when I saw how much I looked like a teacher. If I put my hands on my hips I'd look like I was about to put the whole gala in time-out. Seeing me dressed like this made me miss my kids. I missed teaching them, I missed talking to Lilah. I wanted to go hang out with Katy, but as I realized how much psychological torture she was probably under thanks to Tom, I doubted she would answer my calls. No matter how much I try, I could never go back to my old life. I could never just quit Tom cold turkey and go back to what I knew normally. I couldn't just go on another blind date without Tom lingering on the back of my mind. I could never just go a whole day without looking at my phone, not expecting a call. As much as I hated to admit it, the mafia was my life now.

    There was a knock on my door and I left the bathroom to open it, desperately wanting anyone else to be behind it. As soon as I saw his dirty blonde hair, I tried to slam it closed, but he put his foot between the door and the frame. "Fuck!" he exclaimed, "I didn't think it would hurt that much." He gave a dry laugh but my face remained stoic. "I don't give a shit about your pain," I said flatly, "I'd do it again happily."

    "I'm sure you would," Harrison rolled his eyes, "But I'm afraid you be dead within a second." He looked behind me and suddenly I saw a red laser out of the corner of my eye. My heart stopped and my breath hitched, fuck. "I suggest you let me in before I give him the signal," Harrison's once playful expression turned serious and I had no other option but to let him in.

    "I'm a little jealous, Andi. This is much better than my room," He roamed around the room, looking out the window and gave a signal to the sniper. "Funny," I folded my arms across my chest, "I thought with all your riches from when you sold out Tom you could afford better." "Betrayal doesn't pay well," He replied snidely, "Just ask Judas." "At least you know what you're doing is bad," I muttered to myself quietly, but to my luck he picked it up.

    Harrison turned around pulled his gun out, aiming it at me. It seemed that everyday I had a gun to my face so though I was used to the threat, this was different. Harrison was not my friend anymore. I guess he never was in the first place. "You're not so perfect yourself," he remarked, "You do all of Tom's dirty work. You're basically his slave." "Isn't that what you are for the other organization? A slave?" I stepped closer, putting the barrel right on my collarbone. I winced as I noticed that the metal was extremely hot; it had already been used today. I wondered who had just met their maker earlier and I prayed it wasn't Tom. " I mean while else would they hire you to kill Tom? If the position of newly crowned King of the Underworld was guaranteed to be yours, why wouldn't they hire someone in a position lower than yours to kill him, so that they wouldn't trace it to you? Why? Because you are the lowest position, Harrison. Being King's not guaranteed to you nor will it be."