The Beauty And The Heist

Chapter-6

Damien laughed. Maybe all those years with DeLuca had finally taken its toll and he'd gone mad.

"She's so cute! She thinks she can take on the Mafia!" He exclaimed.

Antonio chuckled lowly beside him. I'm going to kill these two. Hell hath no fury like a Chevron scorned and desperate to get out and call the FBI on their ass.

I was still quite surprised. I'd expected a Mafia Boss to be decades older. This guy was probably in his early to mid twenties. Not much older than me. Hmm. His face still held the softness of childhood adolescence while his features were sharp as a man's. He kind of looked like a real-life anime.

"What crawled up your boss's butt?"

Damien looked horrified at my poor choice of words. Antonio was still struggling to comprehend what I had said. It wasn't going to click in anytime soon so I decided to elaborate.

"Why is he such an idiot?"

Damien laughed. It was the kind of laugh a villian would do while rubbing his hands with lightening flashing in the background.

"Be careful who you call an idiot, little girl." Antonio spoke.

"Adrian went to business school. But he's always had in interest in psychology. That's why he graduated business so early. He can play you like a piano and you wouldn't even know it." Antonio said.

I had already figured out that he enjoyed mind games, so I wasn't particularly surprised at that. Still, it only went to prove that he was dangerous. I needed to find out more. I may not have been as skilled as Adrian but I knew how primate thought processes worked, thanks to my fellow peers who, when threatened could come up with articulate, well-thought responses such as: bitch, slut, nerd.

I preferred opinionated, attractive, smart.

Truth be told, I kinda deserved the bitch part. There was this one time when this guy picked on me and went to his dorm and was greeted with a card that said, 'Call me for a good time, handsome. I want sex. Here's my number! -XOXO Shannon. . Shannon was the prettiest, most popular girl in our college (yep, my college was a lot like high school. My peers still had the mentality of fourteen year olds). I had nothing against her, barely spoke to her, we were at the live and let live stage. The bully hadn't attended college for the next few days. He had been suspended for a week.

I had 'accidentally' put down his professor's number on the note.

Point is, stupid people will reveal all their cards just to prove their point. I kind of did that on some occasions myself. But I'm not stupid.

"I'll be sure to talk to him if I need therapy." I said carelessly.

"I don't think you'll like therapy with him. The last guy who did that slit his own throat after telling him everything under truth serum."

Shit.

While any good psychologist can analyze thought processes, hypnosis wasn't easy to do. It is only done by skilled experts with years of practice. But then again Damien did say he was interested in psychology from an early age.

If it was true, I was dealing with some serious shit here.

I didn't know what he wanted from me but I knew my stay here wasn't going to be pleasant. My skin crawled at the thought of someone getting into my head. My thoughts were creepier than Tumblr, and that was saying something. It was in his best interest to stay out.

Who was I kidding? I needed to get the fuck out of here!!

I analyzed my options. Fighting Damien and Antonio was going to end in a fail bigger than Hitler's Russian campaign. I wasn't physically well built or even strong. I was thin as a twig and five feet zero. Complements of my slight Indian heritage. People often mistook me for anorexic and shot me disapproving looks and told me to eat more. I didn't have the patience to explain genetics and metabolism to idiots.

My physical weakness was also the reason I focused on my grades. People were intimidated by intelligence. Maybe they'd leave me alone.

It turned out that grades weren't daunting enough. But my ability to screw people over and laugh in their face was. Tit for tat. Except I wouldn't punch you or get into a physical fight. I'd keep my hands clean and watch your life crumble. But there was a price to pay. You couldn't be a smartass and have nobody bully you.

I wonder why I have no friends.

So fighting with Damien and Antonio wasn't an option. Outsmarting Adrian was next to impossible. What could I do?

Damien and Antonio led me to a huge bedroom that looked like something out of a interior design catalogue. Just like the rest of the house. The floor was dark granite and my shoes made satisfyingly loud claps as I walked across it. On second thoughts it was bad. I had to escape barefoot. The bed looked like it was stuffed with clouds. A beige bedcover covered the king sized bed. Did Adrian....?

No. He had the looks and charisma to get any woman he wanted. And driving guys away was a special talent of mine along with pissing people off just for the heck of it. And I didn't get that sort of vibe from him.

If anything, I knew that if I got hurt it won't be physical or superficial. It would be mental and traumatic.

The goal was to traumatise them not myself.

I turned around. Damien and Antonio were gone.

I took in the room.

It was luxurious. Not like somebody would keep their hostage their. The room had its own sitting area, a glass coffee table with two beige chairs. There was a Persian carpet decorating the floor in front of the bed. A writing desk was on one side of the room. Almost like a seven star hotel. Except for the door that was locked with a keypad. Hotel Transylvania. Everyone is welcome. But nobody can leave. Haha. I was losing it. To make things worse?

The room had no windows.