Dark Intentions

|10. Angelo and his machine guns|

                                                                                    *not edited*

So... hi there! 

Sorry about the lack of updates. I am now working full time so I barely have any time to sit down and write. I also admitted a while back that I've lost my inspiration for this story but I still really want to finish it so I'm going to keep going.  So please bear with the slow and irregular updates. 

Hope you enjoy this chapter. I would highly recommend you go back and re-read the last chapter to remind your selves about what happened so far...

p.s- I have google translated some phrases of Italian in this chapter. Those words and phrases will have an asterisk [*] next to them. The english translations can be found at the end of this chapter. 

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|10. |

One second everything was calm. Well not calm persay. I mean, I was still kidnapped and being threatened with death. But it was definitely calmer than now.

As the shooting came to an abrupt stop and the rubble and dust settled around up, I could finally see clearly.

There were three bulky men in suits practically towering over me. Two were holding what looked like machine guns and the man in the middle was standing with his arms crossed over his bulging chest. He lifted his tattooed hand to his face and took of the shades he was wearing.

"Morte," the mysterious intruder spoke, his voice deep and heavily accented. "I spent all day looking for you and now I find you here getting lovey-dovey with your *amante?"

Was this man blind? What aspect of me being bound and tied up in a warehouse seems lovey-dovey exactly?

My kidnapper stood up, turning to our new guests while blocking me from their view.

"Angelo," he replied, his voice cold, giving away nothing. "Why are you here?"

'Angelo' shrugged his broad shoulders but my eyes strayed back to the two men standing behind him with the massive guns. Noticing my gaze, one of them caught my eyes and his grip on the nozzle of the gun got tighter.

Oh please. Like I'm the threat here.

"Oh I dunno Morte, I felt bored at home and thought I would spend my precious time running round New York tracking you down for fun- WHY the fuck do you think I'm here?!"

Surprised by the sudden change in tone I gasped, burying myself into the pole I was tied to.

The air around us got so tense you could practically cut through it with a knife. I looked up at my kidnapper who didn't look as affected as I was. He remained as calm and stoic as normal, though I spotted the quick glance back at me when I gasped.

"We had a deal, remember?" My kidnapper who I was starting to think was named 'Morte' stated.

"Oh I remember," Angelo replied, his hand going slowly to the waistband of his suit trousers. "I remember paying you 50 green ones and you promising me that you would have the job done. But it's way past the deadline and I still aint got my money."

Oh.

Oh, so this is the guy that hired my kidnapper to find Aaron.

"And Morte boy, you should know this about me already. I'm not a patient man. I don't like to be kept waiting."