o n e
706 Words
Two years.
Two years since my life took a sharp turn.
Two years since I was picked from the streets and placed into a freaking mansion.
Two years since the day I was kidnapped, or even better, was brought and told to join the gang.
I really didn't have a choice so I joined Nådes. I had nothing better to do anyway, besides surviving in the streets, penniless and homeless, which I might add is not a piece of cake.
I sighed in relief knowing what I've become now. Pride rushed in me as if I somehow breathed it instead of oxygen.
Mia Weaver.
One of the top 10 fashion designers of the world.
I introduced my own brand, Weaver's, and it spread like wild fire all over the USA.
Lighting a cigarette, I inhaled it deep before opening my mouth, smoke rising and blurring my view for a short second before disappearing in the air.
I skimmed down at the busy road all the way from 27th floor, a small balcony attached to my office, noticing how people were so occupied in their small hectic worlds, performing their tasks as best as they could.
My eyes landed on a dark-brown haired boy. Something about him was different. He kept looking around, keeping himself wary of his surroundings as if he was finding something precious. Or maybe, just maybe, he was looking for an easy prey, an easy shot to survival.
I smirked as my thoughts played action in front of me.
The boy walked passed an older woman, who clearly was showing off her diamonds, I literally could see them sparkle from up here. He nudged her shoulder accidentally, well not really accidental if you ask me, and then said something. An apology maybe?
Deja vu hit me as I saw him carrying away the woman's bag.
I shook my head, turning to go back in to continue to drown into work but ended up recalling my days in the streets instead.
Flashback.
Walking around a park, my stomach growled, reminding me of the hunger pangs building inside.
I tried but I couldn't get my hands on anything. I couldn't find anything. I haven't had a proper meal for 3 days now.
It's strange to think how am I even alive without food.
I've been looking around for something, something small but expensive, something that will be enough to get me food for a day or two, for a few hours now.
The moment I gave up and slouched down on a bench, a girl caught my eye. Blondie paid for something and then put the bright pink wallet in the back pocket of her pants. I gagged at her color choice but my brain decided otherwise.
I wanted the money. No, I needed the money.
I ran to her, trying to poke her to a side as naturally as I could. She fell down on her ass and I mentally rolled ny eyes at her exaggerated reaction.
"I'm sorry I didn't quite see you there," I said extending a hand for her, "I was in a hurry."
She took my hand so I pulled her up.
"It's okay," she muttered and turned around to walk away.
I used my stealthy techniques and lightning speed to pick the wallet from her pocket, running away as fast as I could.
Just like that, I smirked to myself.
Someone's finally getting food.
End of flashback.
"I'm sorry for coming in late, Ms. Dalton," my thoughts were interrupted by my secretary's panting.
I nodded, "What's my schedule for today Lisa?"
I didn't bother asking why she was late. It might be something important because she's always on time. I honestly have no interest in her personal life. I haven't talked to her about anything except it's work related. Actually, I don't talk to anyone if it isn't work-related, neither my employees nor the gang boys (did I just rhyme, wow)
"Uh, you have a meeting with Mr. Dalton at 2," she said opening her small notepad, "and then you have an online conference at 4.30."
I nodded and gestured her to leave while switching on my laptop and going through the inbox.
Emails. Boring Emails. Endless boring Emails.
- Writer
