Dangerous desire

Anemoia

Chapter 1

Ava's POV

The wind slapped my face the moment I cracked the window open and I jerked back like I'd been hit, closing the window almost immediately.

I sighed and turned back to my laptop staring at the code I've been trying to debug for hours.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't focus, I kept thinking about things I shouldn't, if only I was at work.

My phone buzzed for the 7th time in 10 minutes ruining my focus. Aunt Moore.

“Take the first or last train, just make sure you're here this weekend or forget about me”

How could I do that? she's the only family I have left, I ruffled my hair forcing my fingers back to debugging.

My compartment's door flew open and a bloody stranger waltzed in, face stern and expressionless.

“What the?” I muttered, staring at his bloody, wounded fingers wrapped around a pistol. A f*****g pistol.

He closed the door behind him staring right into my eyes like he would fall into them, “I love a peaceful life and he's probably not here for me” I muttered to myself pulling my gaze back to my laptop.

“He's gonna walk out the same way he walked in” I tried to assure myself.

I felt his eyes on me, like a predator staring at his prey, I swallowed hard my fingers pressing hard on the keypad buttons

“You” His voice dropped. “You're not afraid of me”

It wasn't a question and for a reason I don't understand, I shouldn't be.

“Should I be?” A dark smirk appeared on his face turning into a weird smile that didn't quite reach his eye.

He nodded and twirled the pistol around his fingers standing up.

“See you soon Bambina” And like he's been ticking with time, he opened the window close to him and jumped out of the train.

I gasped looking out the window for any sight of him, but he was gone without a trace.

I scoffed at his weird personality as the train suddenly announced the next stop, I closed my laptop and arranged my bag.

The train screeched to a halt, and I grabbed my bags before I could talk myself out of it.

“See you soon Bambina” The voice echoed in my head as I stepped onto the platform. The wind hit me again dry, dusty and familiar.

Anemoia. Home. The place I'd spent years running from. And now I'm back.

I shook the thought off and walked toward the taxi pack, then stood dead.

Limousines. Black. Sleek. Gleaming like something out of a movie.

What the hell happened to Anemoia?

Last time I was here, the taxi pack was a graveyard of rusted sedans driven by old men who talked too much.

I swallowed hard, dragging my bag toward the only normal-looking taxi in the row, a modest black sedan with a driver who looked like he was coming from a cologne advert.

"Anemoia Heights," I said, sliding into the back seat.

He nodded. Didn't speak. Didn't even look at me.

The ride was silent. No music. No chatter. Just the hum of the engine and the weight of everything I'd been running from pressing down on my chest.

I stared out the window, watching the dusty streets blur past.

He said he'd see me soon.

He was just a random psychopath. I'll never see him again, right?

I pressed my palm against the window nervously, the glass cold against my skin.

For the second time today, I wished I was back in the city, at work, in my office debugging codes.

The speed of the car suddenly increased distracting my thoughts, I turned to gaze at the driver with a "what's happening " Kind of look.

His smirk from the rearview mirror struck my heart, this smirk, this same dark smirk, the Bambina guy?

What the f**k?!!

"What the hell are you doing?"I yelled trying to grab his arm from the back where I was sitting but it felt like an attempt to mop an ocean.

He sped and turned at several U-turns in seconds as if the car obeyed him not the break, and soon he halted, my head hit the back sending piles of aches to my head.

I immediately pushed the door open to run away, as far and fast as I could, but my eye landed on the most shocking and iconic view I'd ever seen.

Limousines, Ferraris, Lamborghinis and bikes, more than at the taxi pack, I could recognize a few.

And in front of the close limousines sat the Bambina guy, with that one smirk I'd recognize anywhere.

Anger boiled inside me, what right does he have to bring me here, I watched the surroundings, guys and girls in black, they weren't looking cute, they were his men probably, at his beck and call, they held guns and other materials that screamed "illegal".

How did I get into his mess, what did I f*****g do.

"Why am I here?" I asked trying to be calm as ever.