The Beauty And The Heist

Chapter-11

Vickram Roy's Quarters, Los Angeles Institute of Science and Technology.

"So, tell me. Did you finally decide to stop playing dumb?" Adrian went on to ask. He leaned over me and looked at the computer. He was dressed in a navy blue suit. I caught a whiff of his Cologne as he looked over my shoulder. I was super aware of the distance between him and I. It almost felt tangible. I wondered what it would be like to touch him. Then I saw the dark splatters of blood on his shirt.

He pulled up my search history and smiled mockingly as he saw the articles I'd pulled up. Then he leaned back. It felt like ripping a bandaid. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

He fixed me in place with his silver eyes. I suppressed a shiver.

"You saw what I did to that man right?" He started. Slowly, as if I were a five year old kid.

My mouth dried. I nodded.

"So unless you want to endure hypnosis or truth serum. You better tell me the truth." His tone was downright malignant.

"I already told you what I know!" I protested.

"No. You haven't. I'll admit you're a good actress, though. How did you know what Stelle is?"

"I dont!!" I said.

"So you just happened to guess that combination of letters? Don't fucking lie to me."

"I saw it! When Antonio typed in the password!!"

"Impossible. He made sure you couldn't see it. This will be so much easier for you if you just fucking tell me the truth! I won't hurt you if you stop lying!"

"I threw the jug of water at the wall! I saw the reflection of the keypad in the water that had splashed over! You can even find the fucking jug there. Or pieces of it, at least." I added the last sentence as an afterthought and shut my eyes. I had lost my temper.

Giving him information wasn't the smartest move. He was a murderer and now, I had rendered myself useless.

"Look at me." He demanded.

I refused to look at him. The man with the blood on his shirt, the man who could kill without lifting a finger. The man who could get inside my head.

"Look. At. Me."

I opened my eyes and glared at him.

His gaze had softened.

"What if I told you the man I killed was a rapist and a murderer, that he abused a woman he was married to?"

I would probably kill him myself.

"You would have done the same." He said.

"Don't know. Don't really care. Why are you telling me this?" I demanded. Why did his mood change so quickly?

"Because I want to offer you a deal."

"I don't make deals with part time Mafia Bosses and full time psychopaths." I sneered.

"I can assure you I'm not a psychopath. And I usually don't make deals with teenagers."

"I'm twenty!" I protested. This guy was barely twenty-three. Who was he to call me a teenager!?

"Nineteen," he corrected,"The body of a fifteen year old and the brain of a four year old."

"Even you have the body of a kid, so shut up." I reminded him.

"I've never received any complaints." He said.

"Your ego wouldn't allow it." I replied.

"My ego is simply part of my nature, goes with the territory."

"Territory of being an asshole?" I asked sweetly.

"Having to deal with immature idiots is only the tip of the iceberg, if that's what you mean." He said smiling sweetly.

"I'm not immature." I said defensively.

"PowerPuffGirls. Seriously though, your parents should have quietly gone to sleep that night. They could not have created you on purpose. " he was getting irritated now.

"Why am I here if I wasn't supposed to exist?" I demanded.

"Tumors exist and I'm sure they're not meant to."

"Oh really?" I asked sarcastically.

"Tumors aren't good, by the way." He clarified. I may not have studied biology but even I fucking knew that. How dumb did he think I was!?

"If it's in your head it probably is." I retorted.

"Aww, aren't you adorable. You know, I wrote a paper about the effects of bad parenting leading to a really fucked up attitude..." He started.

"I know it's called an Autobiography."

"About the deal. You help me find Roy and get the blueprints back." He said.

"Whats in it for me?"

"I don't kill you. And you'll be under my protection. Nobody can touch you. And I did my research, you're studying software development aren't you? I can get you a seat in Harvard for your post grad. I can give you the world."

Harvard. I almost drooled at that word.

"Okay. I accept."

He smiled a genuine smile. It was breathtakingly beautiful. He had a small dimple on his chin. He was perfection.

"Good. Now show me what you've found."

I showed him the string of letters and numbers. He had the same WTF!? Expression I had only moments ago.

"Was he really a rapist and a killer?" I asked in a small voice.

He looked up at me.

"This one time, I'll tell you. He works for a rival family. When I saw him he was kicking a sixteen year old girl, her clothes were torn. He never had a chance, I would have killed him anyways. Damien and Antonio got him and I made the girl forget what had happened. I'm not heartless." He said conversationally. Like he didn't care. But he did.

He spoke of the girl as if she were innocent. I was anything but. I was a bitch. He would never think of me as a human being.

"Do you have similar people working for you?" I accused.

"Doesn't mean I give two shits if they live or die. Let them all die for all I care." He said icily. He didn't see them as humans.

"Sweet. Are you going to say the same when I die?" I asked nervously.

He gave a small smile, still staring at the screen.

"Roy is still missing and the blueprints aren't in my hands. Who said I'm going to let you die?"

Right. Stupid deal. But his reply was still somewhat comforting.

There was another reason I took the deal. I wanted to get Dylan back.

That was actually one of the main reasons I made the demented deal with Adrian DeMentia.

Suddenly his phone started ringing, snapping me out of my inner monologue, and he answered it. The blood drained from his face.

He turned to face me.

"We need to get the fuck out."