Song: NARCOTICS - CHLOBOCOP

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Luscious

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Couldn't I get a moment of peace?

Taking a moment to catch her breath she managed to speak,

"Lush, we have a problem."
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I stormed into the men's bathroom, determination written on my face and fury coursing through my veins.

As soon as I stepped through the threshold I was met with three men, all varying in ages and all wearing expensive suits while snorting white lines off the sink.

Disgusting.

They looked up at me, their eyes widening as if they were schoolchildren being found out by their teacher.

It was almost like they had forgotten that their salary was probably 10 times higher than mine, if not more.

But I didn't have the heart to remind them.

"Out," I commanded, my voice leaving no room to argue.

They gazed at each other as if they needed conformation before packing up their lines, too slow for my liking.

I snatched the bag away from them and that was when the youngest one stepped forward, Immediately recognising him as the man that had dragged me to the bosses office only yesterday.

"You're not permitted here, new management allows this," he stepped forward so that he blocked me as the other men scampered out of the room with their tails between their legs.

Cowards.

"Quite frankly, I don't care what the new management says, if you let these drugged up men even breathe on my girls," I stepped forward, putting my finger to his chest, "I'll make sure that your family lineage will end with you, comprender?"

Translation: understand?

He putt his hands up in mock surrender, completely unfazed by my threats.

"You have to take this up with the boss, not me," he said, a dangerous glint in his eye.

I scowled in frustration, no way was I letting druggies in private rooms with any of my girls, who knew what could happen?

Their safety was and will always be my priority.

As I turned around, I made sure to steal a glance at his package before meeting his stare in a glare, and to my satisfaction a small, almost undetectable shiver ran down his spine.

I smiled to myself, at least I had scared him a little.

I tucked the white bag in my bra, searching the entire main room for the boss, who's name still eluded me, and came up with nothing.

I tramped over to Ginger, who always had her eyes on everyone all evening, knowing that she would probably know where he went.

"Where did that bastard go?" I seethed to her, catching not only her attention but a few others at the bar.

Their attention was on the bottom of my list, I had more pressing matters to attend to.

Ginger quickly moved towards me, abandoning the drink she was halfway through making, sensing my fury and putting her hand gently on my arm in an a effort to calm me.

My anger was well known and not well tamed.

"And which bastard are we talking about here?"

A slapped my hand on the counter, attracting more attention, my fury rising and almost consuming my entire being.

"The new management hijo de puta," I practically spat, my eyes travelling the bar to see that many people had returned to their drinks and conversations.

Translation: Son of a bitch

"Ahh that bastard," She said, taking my other hand and forcing me to look at her.

At the sight of her clear blue eyes and calm face, I also calmed, if only a little, and took a few stabilising breaths.

"Which bastard?" A masculine voice interrupted from behind, making my anger flare up again.

I ripped my hands away from Gingers and turned around to face him, my glare catching him off guard, evident by the slight raise of his eyebrows.

He wasn't very expressive.

"You," I said, pointing my finger at him, the same way I did to his lackey in the bathroom.

"Me?" He questioned, his lips pulling up into an amused smirk as if my fury was funny to him, which only made me more livid.

"Yes, you're the bastard," I confirmed.

I glanced around only to find that Ginger had disappeared, gone back to her drink making that had been previously abandoned.

"What have I done to be a bastard?"

I glared at him a second longer, refusing to break the eye contact as I slid my hand down my bra, his eyes following my hand the whole time, darkening as they did so.

I clutched the white bag and threw it on the bar counter, some of the contents spilling on the table.

His eyes followed the bag, settling on it for a few moments before he snatched it up and wiped the remaining white dust on the floor.

He met my glare, his previous playfulness replaced by something darker, so dark that it almost forced me to look away from the pure intensity of it.

He grabbed my arm, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers clenched hard, as if I would evaporate.

"Come with me."

He left no room for argument as he dragged a infuriated stripper behind him, his grip only becoming tighter the closer we got to his office.

A pang of fear shot through me as he slammed the door behind us, leaving us alone in the office.

He threw the small bag on the middle of the table, letting its contents spill out, putting his hands of either side of the desk and leaning forward, his head down.

Silence settled in the room like a heavy blanket.

Finally, he broke it.

"Do you understand the business I'm running here?"

He didn't look at me when he spoke, the hypocrite.

I churned over his his question, and the truth was that I didn't know much about it, only that was illegal, had Italian connections and the old boss was tied up in it.

"Some kind of Italian gang?" I said, coming out more like a question than a statement.

A low chuckle resonated throughout the room and my eyes snapped to his shaking shoulders. He slowly lifted his head, strands of his now slightly dishevelled hair falling onto his face as he looked at me from across the desk.

His grey eyes met mine and the intensity within them held me captive, unable to move or even utter a word.

"An Italian gang?" He questioned, taking his time to stand up to his full height, reminding me of how he towered over me.

"Il mio grazioso pianista, you'd be much safer if we were a gang," he said, his voice growing deeper and more dangerous by the second.

Translation: My pretty little pianist

Without a second to spare the distance between us had closed, neither of us touching but yet so close.

He leaned forwards, his hand finding the back of my head and his lips grazing my ear, "Unfortunately, we are so much more than that," he whispered, his accent surfacing.

I couldn't bring myself to speak, causing me to take a step back into safety so that I could take control of my mind, distracted by the heated promise of his body.

"Are you scared?" He asked, voice husky and eyes trailing my body without shame.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach in a feeble attempt to cover myself up, forcing his eyes back to mine.

"What are you, then?" I asked, completely dodging his question.

He lightly chuckled sending chills down my spine, the light not reaching his eyes as he gazed at me from across the room. Somehow his lack of an answer turning out to be incredibly ominous. 

Without a second to spare, his hand shot forward and his hand wrapped itself around my wrist, prying my arms away from my waist.

He took a step towards me, making me take one backward.

He continued moving forward and me backwards, as if I were prey being hunted by a predator until my back hit the wall.

I let out a soft gasp as it did so, causing his lips to curl upwards in a borderline malicious smile.

"Nowhere to run now," he whispered, grasping my other wrist in his hand and roughly pinning them both above my head.

My heart picked up as our noses brushed together, the weight of his chest against mine pinning me further into the wall.

"Are you scared?" He whispered, forcing my mind out of the fog that had settled there.

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak when he was so close.

He hummed, detaching one of his hands from my wrists and pushing a stray strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

His hand brushed past my cheek and made its way to my erratic pulse before resting there.

"Your heartbeat betrays you," his voice so smooth and inviting I briefly forgot of the danger he admitted surrounded him.

The sharp removal of his hand from the underside of my jaw snapped me out of my daze, bringing me back to the reality of my I was here.

I couldn't let him distract my any longer.

"I won't let my girls be around drugged up men, its not safe," I said, trying to steer him back to the topic at hand, hoping for a reprise in our steamy encounter.

He didn't answer me, his lips twitching upwards as if something I said has amused him.

"It's funny that you think you have control of my decisions, piccola pianista."

Translation: Little Pianist

My anger bubbled up yet again when I heard his response, did he not care about the wellbeing of his staff?

I narrowed my eyes at him, and tried to pull my hands out of his iron grasp to no avail.

"Well I'm sorry if you think that letting drugged guys close to vulnerable girls is funny-," He didn't let me finish though, cutting me off by his hand snaking its way around my throat, not applying any pressure but the presence alone made my tongue feel heavy in my mouth.

He towered over me as he applied a little pressure to my neck.

"I have you pinned to the wall, my hand around your neck and you want to make demands?" He stated, a type sadistic amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Let go of me," I said, gathering my wits and forcing a stern tone.

I was in no mood to joke.

A small chuckle escaped his lips, so soft it was basically a whisper.

A beat passed where we only looked at each other, our breaths mingling, until he surprisingly followed my instructions, letting my hands and neck free.

Without a moment to spare, I quickly sidestepped away from him, immediately putting space between us.

I cleared my throat, not being able to control the slight blush that crept up my neck.

He gazed at me for a moment before striding back to his desk and sitting down at the leather chair behind it.

"I'm running a business here and I have a quota I need to meet, one that requires the peddling of certain substances. I wouldn't expect you to understand," He said, his voice completely emotionless and his entire body relaxed in his chair, gazing at me as if he had no worries.

In only a few seconds he changed to all business, no room for arguments.

I looked back at him for a few moments, wondering whether he had a heart in that body of his, why couldn't he see that leaving girls in a room with drugged men could lead to dangerous situations?

My jaw clenched at his statement.

I wouldn't expect you to understand.

All at once, the power he held hit me, the imbalance between us hitting me like a slap in the face.

As much as I wanted to shout at him until he understood, the dangerous glint in his eyes made me reconsider.

I swallowed my words and nodded, choosing not to speak as I made my way to the door, pushing the handle down.

"Where are you going?"

Without turning, I girt my teeth, "No point arguing with someone who already has their mind made up."

I swung the door open and turned my head to him.

"I'll make you understand somehow."

With that, I stormed out, not giving a damn who saw me completely furious and took the rest of the night off.

I deserved it anyways.

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I hope this wasn't awkward

2078 words

Okay bye