The Prince of Chicago

Chapter 5

Isabelle

“Ok then, Angelo. Let’s talk. What are your questions, exactly?” I asked. He stood for a moment, looking down at me, a hand coming up to his chin and eyes narrowing slightly. It seemed as though he was selecting his words, curating each member of the sentence he was about to vocalize. Finally, he spoke.

“Well, Miss Bradford, you and I are both aware of what you… witnessed in the alley last night. There’s no getting around that. My question for you is, why exactly were you in the alley to begin with?”

“I told your men already, I was in the club and needed some air, so I let myself out through the alley door,” I replied. I was sure this guy had already heard the story from his men, and I was a little annoyed to be having to repeat it. That and my head was still pounding. The guy with the gun had really given it to me last night.

“Why did you come to the club, then?” he fired this second question off, not in an accusatory way, but more out of curiosity.

“My friend dragged me out. I just moved here, she wanted to celebrate,” I answered, trying to convey as much honesty as possible. Play along, Isabelle, play along.

“I’m assuming those were the two women you were with last night?” I nodded. “And what are their names?” he asked.

“Why is that relevant? …Are there somewhere here too?” My voice rose in pitch. Had I inadvertently implicated my friends in this? Angelo chuckled.

“No, sweetheart, they both made it home last night.” How did he know that? Had he followed my friends? I wouldn’t put it past him, seeing that he somehow seemed to know my name. The guy was definitely sly. “Names?” he asked again, sounding impatient this time.

“I’m not just going to tell you their names,” I said with a scoff. “Clearly I've mixed myself up in something unsavory, but I won’t allow them to be dragged down with me.” He stared at me blankly, as if he couldn’t believe I was defying his question again.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” he said coolly. His blue eyes seemed to pierce my own with a more feverish intensity than before. “Now give me their names.”

“I said what I said, I’m not mixing them up in… whatever this is!” I raised my voice a bit and waved my hands around to show my point. “And I’m not your sweetheart.” I glared at him on that last part. Angelo closed his eyes and covered them with a hand, sighing loudly.

“Look, they aren’t going to get mixed up in anything. I just need to look into them, to make sure they aren’t connected to any enemies of my family. They won’t even know about it,” he explained, annoyed.

“Enemies of your family? What does that even mean!?” I snorted a bit, thinking how silly it sounded. He glared at me, and the courage I had been drawing from began to shrink back. I tried to keep the fear I had for him from dancing across my face. “Their names are Marie DuBois, and Anna, I don’t know her last name. I just met her last night. She’s a coworker of Marie’s,” I answered quickly. “You have to promise you’re telling the truth though, that you won’t mix them up in whatever this is.” I looked at him, almost pleadingly.

“Yeah, yeah, you have my word,” he responded nonchalantly, tossing his head to the side and rolling his eyes.

“And how do I know that’s worth anything? I still know nothing about you besides your first name!” I exclaimed. I was getting annoyed now, and I didn’t care whether this man was dangerous or not. “I want answers of my own, Angelo!”

He looked at me then, almost in surprise. Then his eyes narrowed.

“You’ll get answers when I want you to have them,” he said in a low tone, almost guttural. “And believe me when I say I never go back on my word.”

“No,” I shot back. “I want them now, or I’m leaving.” He looked back at me incredulously. I gathered this man was not the kind of person people so openly defied. He took a few more steps forward then, placing himself right up in front of me, staring down at my small stature, a mix of anger and excitement running wild in his eyes. I looked up to meet his gaze, still standing my ground.

“You think you can leave here?” he growled. “You’re a witness. You won’t be going anywhere.” WHAT?

“You can’t just keep me here!” I shouted, no way to mask my desperation.

“You witnessed my men execute one of my enemies. Trust me, we won’t mind keeping you until this whole situation has been sorted.” His tone was even compared to my outburst moments before. I just stared back at him, narrowing my eyes and gritting my teeth. I was angry now. I would not be someone’s prisoner, no matter how handsome they were or how nice of a bedroom they had me staying in.

“I will NOT be someone’s prisoner,” I said harshly back, digging one of my fingers into his chest. I was correct with my preliminary observation: all muscle.

He glared back at me, my finger still digging in. Then, before I could even realize what was happening, he grabbed my hand roughly off of his chest, making me stumble backwards into the chaise in the middle of the room. His hand snaked behind my lower back then, almost instinctively, catching me from falling completely. His eyes almost softened for a moment as his hand came in contact with the exposed skin on my back, but as quickly as the softness came, it left, replaced by an even more terrifying look. He placed me down, letting go of my hand. Then he leaned down, arms stretching across either side of me and hands resting on the back of the chaise, caging me in. His face was only an inch or two from mine. There was no hiding the fear on my face now. He was a predator, eyeing his prey.

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be, or you’ll end up like the man in the alley.” His voice was cold and low, but his eyes were alive. He was enjoying making this threat. He stared for a moment longer, keeping me caged between his arms, before he stood up and left the room, slamming the doors behind him. I was left sitting there, frozen with fear.