Rose Petal (ongoing)

Chapter 2

I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark.
**
I climbed out of the black SUV, gazing up at my fathers building. I was anxious, but my face gave nothing away.

Walking into the lobby, I smile at the receptionist Terry who has worked here since before I was born, as I walk through the turn-style and head towards the elevator. It dings open and I step aside for the occupants to walk out before entering.

"Hold the lift," a deep voice echoes in my ear. I instinctively push the open door button as the owner of the voice comes closer.

"Thanks," he says gruffly before going to push the button that was already lit up, the 15th floor.

I glanced at him momentarily, keeping my gaze fixed on his strong jaw and tan complexion. He was tall, probably 6'1" or 6'2" , wearing an expensive blue suit with dark brown shoes. His eyes were a beautiful hazel but at the same time they were dark and menacing. His jaw clenched and I couldn't help but stare at his lips. His eyes glanced to me and I saw him roll his eyes. I snapped out of my gawking and put my mental wall up as high as it could go. I needed to stay focused on the situation at hand.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing my fathers floor. I didn't wait for the mystery man to step out as I walked out. I kept my gaze void of emotion as I strolled to my fathers office.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I knocked twice before entering.

My father didn't glance up from the papers on his desk. I watched him as he eloquently signed papers, not even fazed by the fact that I was there. There at his request, might I add. Sighing, I stepped forward and waited for him to give me permission to sit. As I approached, he scowled while still looking down.

"Sit down Cecelia," he bit out, "I don't have all damn day."

I sat, staring at him, waiting for whatever he was going to say to degrade my existance today. Was it the way I dressed? The way I spoke? The way I killed people? Or was it the way that I was just an utter disappointment to him? Shit, I hadn't even seen this man in almost a year, since the incident. You would think that he would eventually learn to forgive his own fucking child, but I knew that would never happen.

He sat back in his leather chair, hands together in front of his face, staring at me. I refused to squirm under his glare. I refused to feel weak. Fuck that. I raised an eyebrow up at him for a second, waiting for his reason for needing to speak with me. I heard a knock from behind me on the door and then heard the door open and click shut. Refusing to turn to see who it was, I continued staring at my father. I could care less if the person coming in was there to possibly kill me.

I saw the man from the elevator sit in the seat next to me. What the fuck is going on?

"Damien," my father greeted the man, shaking his hand firmly before sitting back and staring at me again.

"Cecelia," he bit out harsher than when he spoke to the man, "I have a job for you. I'm hoping you won't fuck it up like you did the last time. If you do, I'll fucking gut you."

I continued eyeing my father, emotionless. I nodded.

"What's the job?" I spoke up finally. My voice surprisingly not faltering. Thank fucking god.

My father turned his head slightly towards Damien before speaking.

"Mr. Lorenzo has a meeting with the cartel coming up. He thinks there is a rat amongst his men and he needs an outside source to assist. I need my best gunsman on the job," he stated. I smiled internally, my face giving nothing away.

He continued, "but since Matteo was taken out recently, I'm stuck with you." My internal happiness plummets. Fuck him.

I nod my head as he hands me the information in an envelope. As I go to stand, he stops me again.

"Cecelia, I swear to god, don't fuck this up," he spits out.

I nod my head again like a fucking idiot and walk out the door.

Fuck him. Fuck the mafia. Fuck them all.