2. Due

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Leaving a pleading and trembling Garcia, like we have done much more than just slap her twice, we headed to leave

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Leaving a pleading and trembling Garcia, like we have done much more than just slap her twice, we headed to leave. I was about to go left towards the back exit but I restrained from doing so, to avoid seeing... I took a deep breath to avoid going that way, mentally and physically. Anyway, we used that back exit to not alarm Garcia. Now that I've met her, I know for a fact that she is fretting over her next move. She doesn't have any contact to call for help. Someone else is pulling the strings.

This isn't about some rich old pervert making porn videos at home. It's a bigger nexus. Whoever is behind this already knows I am after them. Will be difficult, enticing. But, every day going by another kid will be hurt. My nostrils flared in anger, fists ball in a tight grip at the thoughts.

Walking down the corridors, my gaze roamed over the paintings on the wall, like Mickey Mouse had thrown up in here. Even the tiles on the floor have numbers and tables on them. My strides became even faster to escape from this tiny land.

Near the exit, I heard the delicate clank of heels resonating in the hallway. Being attentive to your surroundings is the key to avoiding getting killed. I always have to be vigilant about who I am around. As a result, I have developed a reading of footsteps. It can't be Garcia. She wasn't wearing heels, and it wasn't expected of her to run after the devil herself.

Some girl was calling after me. The sound of heels turned faster and closer, but yet they were not less graceful. Interesting.!

"Hey, Armani.!!!" All of us halted in our tracks by the feminine voice. No one has ever called the Armani name this disrespectfully before. But this woman had the audacity. I could smell the excitement radiating off of Emiliano. I pivoted around with a murderous look on my face.

Cazzo Madre di Dio! My breath got caught in my throat. Miss Honey from the garden was standing before me. This ragazza is even more beautiful up close. Thick arched eyebrows and lashes so long and beautiful, I bet they are false and a cute little button nose.

She stopped a step away from me as I study her from head to toe. The length of her dress hid if she had toned legs, judging her breathlessness after covering a short distance, she doesn't run. She squirmed under my scrutiny, blinking and swallowing in nervousness. Her chest was carefully moving ever so slightly, her breathing rate was not natural. She was worried, intimidated, and yet she stood her ground.

Whatever she had in mind, she had forgotten. Perhaps the school had taught them to ask for a donation from every man who visits. Especially when they are dressed like us. Except for Soto. He looks like a fucking clown in them.

I smirked and tilted my head at her. "What can I do for you, Cara?" I purr. Cara-Dear in Italian.

"Zara." she snapped, frowning at me.

I smirked and roamed my gaze over her again. She was wearing a brown-coloured dress that stopped just below her knees. And high heels, the end of the heels were covered in dirt. The design of her dress and the layers in her skirt hid her exact figure. But I liked what I saw.

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