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Spencer tapped her finger impatiently on the marble table, on the brink of tears as she looked at all the trends she was required to memorize.
Economics was such a useless class, Spencer was in one of her newfound favorite coffee shop and bookstore called Stories, it was downtown and she liked the city life surrounding her. She had her AirPods in wanting to burn her textbook. She just finished typing her notes on her laptop, and decided she would just stare at the information until it was in her head.
She didn't understand why she had to know all of this when it wasn't even her major.
Her security guards sat at the table over from her, watching spencer like a hawk still recovering from the physical and verbal tongue lashing they recieved from Stephen Williams. The night prior she had evaded them and went to a club.
Spencer wasn't on speaking terms with her parents but she knew her security was reporting back to them and she hope they mentioned how she was doing just fine without their money. Having a rich roommate had its upsides.
Amalea new about her situation and understood what it was like to have an overbearing parent and gave her 300 bucks and then asked Spencer to call her sugar mama. Spencer adamantly denied it but the girl cashapped her and then blocked her.
Spencer promised that she would pay her back but amalea insisted she forget about it and how money was no object to her and if she needed anything to just ask. She even offered to open a line of credit for her and Spencer had to beg her to stop.
She was grateful for meeting a friend like Amalea so quickly, they were inseparable.
Amedeo knew where Spencer was at all times. He knew her class schedule, when she logged out of her phone, and how terrible she was at economics. He had one of his tech people go into her room and set up spy ware on her phone and laptop. There was little to nothing he did not know about her. He could see her cursor on her word document as she type in all caps 'I HATE THIS STUPID CLASS'
The man chuckled knowing he would be alleviating her pain soon, using his knuckles to graze his jaw as her screen click over to a new tab — and she slowly typed Amedeo Bonavento in the search bar.
Nothing populated, it cost a lot of money for him to have zero information on him and his family. Obviously if someone dug enough they would know, but anyone who tried never lived to tell the tale. He had to ensure she didn't wonder about him anymore.
The coffee shop was a few blocks a way from the building he owned under a shadow corporation, Salient LLC. It was a real estate company run by CEO Jacob Price, an unknowing Mafia Groupie, Amedeo was the behind the scenes guy, funding everything and other things.
