Chapter Six

The car stopped in front of an incredibly fancy restaurant, and I was thrilled to be told by Virtus to wait in the car. 

He and Chelsea walked into (with several body guards) the restaurant, and I was left in the car with the driver who was still like a statue, and kind of freaked me out.

I didn't realize just how nice it felt to be away from Virtus. His presence was a looming threat over me, and constantly had me on edge.

To finally be able to breathe was a blessing.

It didn't take me long to get bored, though. I stared out the window, for ten minutes, and then half an hour. An hour passed by, and then an hour and a half.  I kept asking the driver for the time, and he kept telling me with not an emotion in his tone.

Virtus was right. I did need a watch.

"What time is it now?" 

"Fifteen till four, Sir."

"Tell me when it is four."

"Yes, Sir."

I had no reason to know the time. In the grand scheme of it all, time was indifferent to me. I was not on the world's clock, but on Virtus's clock. Time only matters to him, I only follow him along.

I still liked to pretend that I had a choice with my time. That within each hour, I could make my own plans, and pursue my own events to soothe my own boredom. 

It wasn't true. For the duration of my trip here with Virtus, as he had said last night, I am not my own. I am just his shadow.

His shadow that he must have forgotten about, as he was still in the restaurant, leaving me in a lonely car for nearly two hours.

"Is it four yet?" My impatience was childish. Nobody was around to witness my kid-like boredom except the driver, and I had a feeling he wouldn't spill my secret.

"Not yet, Sir."

"How many more minutes?"

"Seven, Sir."

I lean back in the seat.  I fiddle my tie. I can't help but think of this morning, the way Virtus had so thoughtlessly grabbed my collar, and pulled me inches away from him. That moment was too personal.

The feeling of him staring down at me at that level will haunt me, and I choose to forget it.

I then hear his insult, his blatant demeaning comments on my lack of knowledge was burdening me. Despite not being a man, I still somehow found it embarrassing that I didn't know anything about being one. Why did I not teach myself more things before embarking on this stupid mission?

Annoyed I tuck my tie back into my vest, and then ask the driver, because I have no one else to speak to, "In your opinion, should a woman know how to tie a tie?"

He does not even glance at me in the viewfinder, as he responds, "That, Sir, depends. Does this woman wear a tie?"

"I didn't mean one specific woman." I quickly say, "Just a woman in general."

"Of course, my mistake. I do not see any reason why they should. Sir." He says the word 'sir' with unnecessary emphasis, and I stare at him. He does not look at me, and I don't know what he's thinking, but I decide I don't want to sit in this car with him any longer, and I open the door, and clamber out.

I know that Virtus instructed me to wait in the car, but standing beside it surely isn't that big of a deal, right?

Standing after sitting in the car for so long felt great. I began to pace around the vehicle, until the window was rolled down, and the driver stated, "It is four, Sir."

"Thanks." I mutter,  realizing I was out of patience, and the driver was freaking me out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Chelsea vacating the restaurant alone, but I didn't see Virtus with her.  She looks pissed, and her body guards were struggling to surround her as she walked passed crowds of people waiting to get into the restaurant.

I kept staring at the doors, expecting Virtus to come out and yell at me for not being the car. He never shows.

Two guards break off from around Chelsea and come my way. I didn't want to show that being alone with them made me extremely uncomfortable, but the closer they got, the more I stepped back. "Uri Ruben, you're wanted inside."

"I am?" I can't help but ask, and when he just stares blankly at me, I take that as a yes, and slowly begin to walk in.

The restaurant is a lot fancier than I had initially thought. I knew it was expensive but I didn't think immaculate stone sculptures and shiny marble flooring expensive.

One guard stays a few feet behind me, while the other is in front, guiding me up a large staircase, and then another staircase, leading me up to the third floor. 

The third floor, I realized was not public dining. There were closed off sections, for the more rich to eat in quiet, or as private parties. 

We arrive in none of the sections. Instead I'm guided to the men's bathroom, where I hesitate, because I really don't want to go into the men's bathrooms again, but I'm quite literally shoved inside, where I see Virtus, leaning against the sink, and one lonely bodyguard standing a few feet aside. I'm about to ask what he needed me for, even though I know one of his rules is not to ask questions, but I can't seem to get the words out as I really take in the sight of him.

He looks like shit.

His face is pale, and his hands were shaking as he attempted to fix his hair. He had, at one point, shrugged off his suit jacket onto the floor, and his tie had been untied from around his neck. It hung around him like an untied noose.

When he actually realizes that I had walked in, he takes in a deep breath, and beckons to all the guards in the room, "Get out." When they don't leave quick enough, something seems to snap in him, and he begins to shout, "Get out! All of you, leave."

When they do, he leans against the counter, "Lock the door." He tells me. I do. 

When I return to him, he takes several breaths and then says, "Speak to me."

"Speak to you?"

"Yes, tell me anything, speak to me."

"Well what do I say?"

"Just fucking talk goddamn you, tell me anything I don't fucking care, just speak to me."

I don't question it because he's scaring me, and because I don't want to get stabbed. I pull out an old, random memory, deep within the depths of my mind, and do exactly as he instructed, I speak. "Uhh, well, when I was younger me and my brother went swimming in a creek once. It was right after a really bad storm, and the current of the water was way too dangerous for a child or even an adult to swim in. I remember my brother and I standing on the rocks, looking down at the rushing water, and I knew something wasn't right. That is wasn't safe. My brother, Yoel, he doesn't think like that. Most the time logic is something he thinks of after pursuing action, which has gotten him in trouble many times throughout our childhood." I grin at the idiocy of my brother, and continue, "He shoved me into the water, not with malicious intent, but just because we were kids, and that's what kids do. At the time I couldn't swim, hence why we chose the creek to swim in. It was never deep enough to go past my neck. The water was much deeper, and remember, despite being only six years old, feeling as though I was going to die. Not just a question of it, but a certainty." I kept my eyes trained on the floor, but I could feel him staring at me, "I would have died had not a group of teenage boys fishing nearby had come and quite literally fished me out. I ended up in the hospital for three days after." I rubbed my neck with my hand, "Still to this day I can't swim, and I absolutely refuse to try. Water terrifies me."

"Why don't you try to get over your fear?" His question surprises me, and I stare up at him. He's looking at me so intently, I realize my story had distracted him from whatever had previously been bothering him. I understood that that had been the point of him asking me to speak.

What had been wrong? He looked like was having a panic attack.

I shrug, "I'm a coward. Not that it matters much to me. There aren't many bodies of water in D.C. anyway."

"That's a terrible way of looking at it."

I try not to let him get to me. Not being able to swim was an internal insecurity of mine that I refuse to show. "But it is the only way I can justify my refusal."

He nods, and we both fall into silence. I want to ask him what happened, but I lost the courage to do so, and he didn't seem like he was going to tell me whether I asked or not.

Instead, I dare to say, "Your fiancé, Chelsea? She said she was a Scott. That true?"

He frowns at the mention of her, "The Scott family are entitled. They're insufferable assholes, who deserve ruin." He pauses, then says, "So yes, it's true."

I hide my astonishment. The Scott family was the richest family in the country. They have ties in almost every leading corporation surviving right now. The only one with more power than them, is the Bone Cutter himself.

Even then, I'm not too sure just how much power he has over them.

He picks up his discarded suit jacket that was crumbled on the floor, and puts it back on. He doesn't look nearly as pale, and he's starting to straighten up again. 

"I saw her leave." I tell him, as I watch him tie his tie again.

"Yes." He says, and does not elaborate, instead he explains, "Her father is here, and for the rest of the evening, you will attend dinner with me. You haven't eaten yet, you might as well." I'm not convinced that he really cares whether I've eaten or not, but I nod. 

"Okay." I was hungry. I really haven't eaten since yesterday morning, and even then, my nerves prohibited me from eating anything with density.   

When he gathers himself, I follow him out of the bathrooms, and we return to a secluded table, where I count seven security guards, all surrounding the table like a fence.

Virtus pulls out a seat, and sits, beckoning me to sit beside him. I do.

"And who is this?" Mr. Scott asks, his gaze locked on me, and I'm still a bit starry-eyed at the idea of sitting at the same table with Christopher Scott.

"This is my intern, Uri. He will be accompanying us for dinner tonight."

"He looks young. You sure you didn't hire him from a middleschool?"

I frown, but say nothing. Insulting Virtus was one thing, insulting a Scott would probably lead to my entire family getting assassinated.

Mr. Scott laughs at his stupid joke, but Virtus doesn't even attempt to amuse him with a smile.

"So, tell me Uri," Mr. Scott looked at me with such a confident stare, that I sunk underneath him. He didn't just radiate power, he basked in it.

He was a man who expected all eyes to be on him, and he loved it. "What school did you graduate?"

"I'll be graduating Trinity University in June." I say, quickly recalling my lies.

His smile was one of the deep approval. "Trinity is of the best. My kids will, and are attending there, and my grandchildren will too."

"Yes, Sir."

"Where are your parents? They must be proud of their son, serving our nation's top justice system."

I know nothing about how my parents would react if they found out. They are big fans of The Bone Cutter, but I don't believe they'd want their daughter working for him.

I only nod.

"Will you be attending the wedding?"

The wedding? I wasn't even sure when it was. I look to Virtus for help, but he's not looking at me, in fact he's glaring at Mr. Scott so intently that it makes even me wince.

"Yes." I say, and immediately regret it. "I suppose I will be attending, though I'm unsure of the date."

Virtus was going to kill me. He doesn't like me prying for information. I can feel his gaze.

"The wedding hasn't been announced to the public yet." I watch him take a sloppy bite of his steak, and it makes me sick. "I would have thought Virtus had told you already, though it is hard to get him to talk about anything."

Virtus suddenly drops his fork on his plate, making an unnecessary loud clatter that makes me jump. "We will be announcing our marriage publicly tomorrow, and we will be married next month." He spits each word out like he's disgusted. "Is that enough information for you, Uri?"

I regret ever talking. "Yes." I say quietly.

I know that the Bone Cutter is expected to get married, but his repulsion is so thick, that it made nose sense to me at as to why he didn't just wait a bit longer.

He already did not like Chelsea, why get married, if you're just going to kill her?

Nobody deserves to die like that.

"I'm absolutely thrilled." Mr Scott said, ignoring Virtus's cruel tone. "To be part off the Bone Cutter legacy." Doesn't this man know that his daughter could potentially get killed? Does he not even care?

The way he said it rubbed me the wrong way. As if the Scott family didn't already have their fingers clenched around everything popular and important. This was an obvious business deal, and yet, he was bartering his daughter.

Virtus showed no gratitude, in fact, his look of hatred was even more prominent.

I wish I knew what he was thinking.

When Mr. Scott gathered he wasn't going to get a response from his future son-in-law, Mr. Scott's attention turned back to me. 

"So, you have anyone special?"

I took a drink of water, so swallow my tension, "Special?"

"A girl?"

"Oh." I feel Virtus staring at me. I shake my head, "No, no girl."

He frowns, "I could help you, you know. There are plenty of well-off women who are interested in the child-like type."

I frown, "Child-like?"

He laughs, "You look practically twelve." He leaned over his plate, "Women like that, you know." He said it as if sharing some deep secret, "Some just love the men with baby-faces." 

Because he's Christopher Scott, I don't defend myself.

Being degraded seems to be the new normal around these people. 

My self-confidence has dropped significantly within the past twenty-four hours.

A waitress sets a plate of fish in front of me, and though it was probably the most expensive dinner I will ever eat, I could barely stomach a few bites.

Expensive fish tastes just like non-expensive fish.

My nerves were numbing my palette. 

Mr. Scott didn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. Awkward situations seemed not to exist for him.

How odd it must be, to be that rich.

He drabbled on about the wedding, and when he finished eating, the moment he set down his fork, Virtus abruptly pushes himself up form the table, "Is that all, Christopher?"

Mr. Scott wiped his mouth with a napkin, "One more thing, Virtus." He took a drink of his wine, "Tell your father it's a shame he couldn't show today. We will be family soon, we must get to know each other." There was a warning in his tone, "You be sure to tell him that, won't you?"

Virtus didn't look at him, nor did he respond.

He began to walk out of the room. I quickly followed him as we left the restaurant and out to the car.

On the way back to his apartment, he said, "From now on, no matter what I say, you stay beside me."

"Even if you tell me no?"

"Especially if I tell you no." He took out his book, insinuating that the conversation was over.

I say nothing more, and keep my eyes glued to the window.