004
1351 Words
I am having an odd dream. It feels like it's real but there are a lot of inconsistencies. In my dream, I'm a size five, I have baby blue eyes and I have strawberry blonde hair.
I am shoved out of sleep when I hear a fierce knock. I look around, cleaning one of my itching eyes with the back of my palm.
I see a man standing in the door but first, my attention is on my mother's heart monitor. I feel a surge of relief as I observe that it is still beeping and the waves are looking promising.
The words of the doctors repeat in my head.
“If you don't get her to a better hospital where she can get better resources and care, she will die. This case is too much for us to handle. She has a rare heart disease, something we've never dealt with before.”
I'm in debt and somehow, I've been framed. And now, I need to find more money to get my mother to a better hospital. It feels like life is kicking me in the face and spitting on me.
The knock sounds again and I turn my attention to the person at the door. I'm expecting to find a doctor but instead, it's a man wearing an expensive looking dark suit.
I grip the handle of my chair.
His eyes leave my mother and he jerks his chin upwards in my direction.
“My boss wants to see you,”
“But he gave me until tomorrow…”
My heart is picking up speed.
“He changed his mind. Come.”
“I don't have the money.” How the hell did he find me here? Have they been following me?
My mum stirs and I run to her.
It's the first time she's opened her eyes since the open heart surgery.
“Mum…”
“Anya,” she says.
Her voice is so hoarse and her brown hair is dull.
“It's me mum, I'm here.” I say to her.
She manages a smile or it might be purely imagined before she closes her eyes again. I turn my eyes to the heart monitor and I hold my breath.
It's still beeping, it's still beeping.
“I don't have time for all this.” the man at the door says and I turn my attention back to him.
On his face is a look of mild disgust.
I step away from my mother but I lean over and kiss her on her forehead, her skin is dry.
“I'll be back and I'll take you to a better hospital, I promise.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes and follow the man. I'm glad that he doesn't push me or pull me.
He leads me to a black car, with heavily tinted windows. I can't tell if it is the same one from yesterday night.
I don't know how long it took before I got to Dante Marchetti's house, I was lost in thought all through the ride here.
“Come.” the man says and leads me to a brightly lit living room.
It is huge and decorated with fine and expensive furniture. The furry red carpet I'm standing on can probably pay off my mother's hospital bill and that painting over there would certainly cost more than two million Dollars.
I hear heavy footsteps and my entire body seizes up on its own. I try to relax but it's not working.
“Thank you Alessio, you can leave us.”
I turn to Dante, he's wearing a white suit shirt and black suit pants. He's dressed as if he's ready to leave for work. Why do dangerous men have to be this good looking?
He crosses his hand over his chest and I'm forced to say something.
“Mr Marchetti, I know you have some evidence that shows me taking that money but I swear I didn't take your money. I think I'm being framed.”
I'm fighting the urge to cry, my life depends on my ability to convince this man.
“Are we doing this again? If we are, then tell me, I can pull out my gun.”
I swallow hard and go on my knees.
“My mother is dying, she's the only reason I'm striving to live right now. If you kill me you don't just kill one person but two.”
“I've got blood on my hands, I'm sure I can deal with adding two more on the list.”
I feel a blow, it comes like a rock hitting against my forehead. The lack of sympathy in his cold dead eyes sends a shiver down my spine.
I am unable to get up from the floor. All hope is lost.
“We can do this thing where I kill you or you can work for me to pay off your debt.”
I look up from the floor.
“Anything, I'll scrub your toilets… I'll wash all your cars, I wil–”
“That is not the kind of job I want from you, Anya.”
I swallow hard.
“What kind of job do you want from me? I hope it's not drug related, because you'd have to put two bullets in my head before I become a drug trafficker.”
I slap my hand over my mouth and I stare at him, praying that he does not shoot me out of anger but to my surprise, he bursts out in laughter.
I watch him take a seat because he's laughing that hard. I don't know what is happening and I can only watch in fear and wonder.
He stops and a beautiful smile is on his face.
“Nothing drug related.” he says under his breath as if he's talking to himself and then he exits the room.
I think of running out, I don't know what to call this situation.
He comes with a file, just a few pieces of paper.
“Two million Dollars in exchange for your time and services.”
He drops the file on the floor in front of me.
“It's a non disclosure agreement.” I say more to myself than to him.
“It is. You can take a seat.”
I look up at him, the smile is gone from his face but his eyes are softer.
“What kind of services and for how long.”
“For as long as I want you.”
“You can't put a date on it?”
He squints his eyes and something that looks like surprise crosses it.
“You don't have any say in this matter, you know?”
I turn the page of the file and the things in the contract are bizarre. Like the place it says that I have to be available whenever he needs me and I have to dress the way he likes.
Whenever he needs me for what?
He crosses his leg over the other and a look passes over his eyes but it's gone in a second and he stares at me with no emotions at all.
“You will be my s*x maid.”
My mouth falls open and I wait, I wait for him to laugh at the joke but as time passes, I realize that he's serious.
“What?”
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“No, Mr. Marchetti.” my voice is only a small whisper.
“Good. You will start soon. I'll be traveling tomorrow, in the meantime. You will meet Maria and she will get you settled in.”
“Settled in?”
I haven't even agreed yet.
“Yes, you will have a room in my mansion, to be here whenever I need you.”
“Oh God.”
He stands and checks his wrist watch.
I open my mouth to refuse and I watch the corners of his lips tug upwards in a very devilish kind of smile.
“I dare you to object.”
- Writer
