Amara

I swing the door open and collide with a solid body. He smoothly turns my body, and my back meets his chest. Clutching my towel, I'm unable to retaliate. A firm grip covers my mouth, and a knife presses against my throat. He kicks the door closed.

…EH?

That's my bewildered reaction when Carlo pins me to the wall, his knife grazing the base of my neck. Bianca, hearing his sadistic laugh, kicks the door. After bribing him with money, he lets me go.

So far, he seems to be the only one behaving like a mafioso. The way he pressed his knife on my neck, letting only a small bloodline show, demonstrates how crazily skilled he is. I didn't even feel when he drew the cut. Only now I see it, looking in the bathroom mirror.

Bianca comes inside and glances at me as she undresses in a hurry. "You should not walk naked in this house." Her voice stings, but she was right. "Now I know… Thanks for saving me." I smile at her naked body reflected in the mirror. She doesn't seem bothered or ashamed as I glance at her toned body. I wince as I clean the thin slit on my neck with some alcohol.

"If you don't have fighting skills when you meet Carlo, make sure to have money… I doubt you have either of those… I won't be saving you next time." She yawns and turns on the shower, closing the glass cabin's door. "I am in debt to you, so… I will save you next time."

She doesn't hear me as the water draws rivulets along her curves. I try not to look at her body as I clean the cut. Who wouldn't admire her tall frame and toned body? I think everyone would, not able to take their eyes off her.

I close the bathroom door and open the door to our room. Emilio is asleep, probably too tired to hear Carlo's laugh echoing from the kitchen. Terry is half-asleep; he flinches when I open the door, Carlo's laugh hitting his ears. I understand him. That boy's laugh might haunt me tonight, especially after what happened.

The pink-haired girl, Niko, is hanging half in bed, half on the ground, but her puffing shows that she is in a deep sleep.

I step carefully to not wake up anyone and avoid the crumbs on the floor. I bend lightly on the mattress and lay down as I pull the blanket over me. I have the backpack watching over my head as it leans on the wall.

I try to close my eyes and fall asleep, but the boys seem to have too much fun in the living room. I wonder how Terzo is dealing with this. My lips curve as I giggle shortly. He was never the boy who accepted loud noises without nagging about it.

One time we slept close to a club; we found a house left by the owners, so we broke in. The conditions were good, but we soon moved out. He started to nag that the music was the loudest thing he ever heard. I think Carlo's laugh will change his opinion.

As the clamor becomes familiar, a feminine voice erupts in a yell, causing the boys to abruptly halt their laughter. In my semi-conscious haze, I figure Bianca must've bailed from the bath, ticked off by the laughter, and laid down the law. Drifting off, I can't help but wonder how she can binge-watch that TV non-stop.

It's dark in the room, and I glance around me. The shadows on the beds indicate that all people present in our room are asleep. Only the bed above Niko seems empty. Ultimately I deduce, Bianca chose not to join us for sleep.

I rub my eyes. My mouth feels dry and begs me to go grab a glass of water. With small steps,I traverse the room and exit, leaving the door slightly ajar.

My feet feel the cold floor tiles, and I tiptoe at the end. I don't need to turn off the light to see, cause the TV is still opened, playing on minimum volume. At last, someone had the decency to do that.

Miraculously, I see Bianca's feet above some clothes on the couch, where she fell asleep. So, she was the decent person.

I sigh, annoyed by the crumbs stuck on my feet. After drinking some water, I go tiptoe, grab the remote, and close the TV. I don't want to see Bianca scolded by Emilio.

Should I go back to sleep? I am used to waking up early, so it's no use. I'm headed to the bathroom to wash my face. The towel dries the water drops off, and I look pleased in the mirror. My face looks fresh, no more half-closed eyes. I check the cut on my neck, and it's a little red. It will heal ….

Right in that moment, Terzo opens the bathroom door. He looks at me while he forms a frown. In a blink, he grabs my hand, turning me to face him. He raises my chin and growls at me, "Who cut you?"

I sigh, "A talented fellow who will pay for it." I frown and get my hand out of his grip.

Terzo sighs, and I give him space to wash his face. "Just be careful… You can't die because you fake it too much."

I swallow and pat his back. "Don't talk about this… Walls have ears." He glances at me, and I pass him the towel. After drying his face, he ruffles his hair and looks at me.

"Is weird to see you hurt, Amy…"

"How did you sleep?"I shift the subject of the conversation, anticipating his tendency to nag if given the chance to initiate, which I prefer to avoid.

Terzo stares for a moment, shaking his head. "We'll talk about this later, when we're alone," he says, pointing a finger at me. I roll my eyes and he sighs deeply .

"I didn't sleep a wink."

I giggle as he continues, "That laugh is the loudest thing I ever heard." He sighs again . Just what I thought.

"You can sleep now." I put the towel away and stroll out of the bath."No one is gonna make a sound .They are sleeping like logs ."

"Where are you going?" He steps after me, and I turn towards him while my hand is on the door handle. "Going to change. Alone." I smirk, and he scoffs.

"I will try to sleep a little more then …"

We separate; he goes to his room, and I go to the dressing room. His back vanishes as he closes the door. I trail him with my eyes, leaning on the door frame. I don't like to act… but he knows it's for the best. The cut on my neck makes me wonder if I act too innocent, fake comparing to what I really am. Terzo might be right .

Snapping from my reverie, I straighten my back and close the door. The room is dimly lit as the sun rises around a palm above the horizon, some tall buildings obscuring the view.

I open the closet, and I see just black clothes. Not a surprise. The surprise was that some were dresses and all the clothes were pretty expensive. After a few minutes, I decide that I will take a plain black Cami Top, a leather jacket and pants, accompanied with a pair of boots.

After I dress up, I look in the mirror, and I smirk. Perfect. Simple and stylish.

My proud moment is crushed by Bianca who kicks the door to the wall and glares at me.

"What's wrong?" I raise my eyebrows, and she grits her teeth.

"Why nobody told me that they will come this early?" She looks at my getup and then at her loose pants and crop top. "Damn it!"

The crumbs on her belly are brushed by her hand rapidly, and she glances at me.

"Find me some clothes; I will go take a shower." She leaves the room as fast as she entered.

So someone came and found her looking like the 'sleeping princess' of crumbs over the couch? And now she feels ashamed… Got it.

I wonder who came .I will have to find her clothes and then find out.

But I have no idea what to choose for her… She will probably hit me with the clothes if she didn't like them. She gives that impression.

Well, you can't go wrong with a leather jacket, a black Crop Top - her breast will look great in it - and some combat boots similar to mine. About the pants, I still can't choose between the high-waist straight denim black pants and the leather ones. In the end, I didn't choose the leather ones which were a little too tight for her, in my opinion.

Just when I finish, Bianca storms inside and closes the door. She drops her towel to the ground and begins donning the pieces of clothing I picked out for her, one by one. Once dressed, she shoots me a look. "You are not useless." She smirks while looking in the mirror.

Bianca looks gorgeous. Her blond hair is wet, and she leaves to dry it.

I get out of the room and sigh. She is a unique specimen for sure. I guess she doesn't mean any harm in her use of words. Though in one interaction, not knowing her, you might think she hates you.

Strolling the corridor, I see a guy dressed in black attire standing on the chair with a smirk on his lips, staring at his phone, in the living room. He senses my presence and glances at me. So this is the wolf ….

"Good morning…" My voice is cracking as I realize it's the guy who looked interested in me in the basement. He frowns and stands up, coming towards me.

His cologne envelops me as he approaches, yet I resist the urge to step back. I gaze directly into his eyes. And those eyes… a deep green emerald hue, flickering in the morning sunlight that bathes the room. They're captivating.

The large window to my right is responsible for his radiant appearance. However, as he positions himself in front of me, a shadow blankets his face, with the sunlight now accentuating his silhouette. He appears darker, his eyes devoid of their previous gleam. I feel an unmistakable sense of danger as I peer into them.

My neck aches as I realize he's taller than I anticipated. My chin nearly grazes his chest as we maintain eye contact.

"Morning," he says, looking down at me. His raspy voice sparks my curiosity about his age. Was he a smoker? Or, perhaps the more pressing question, how many girls have heard this voice early in the morning?

I hit myself mentally for thinking such stupid things. His eyes seem to linger on my lips, prompting me to conceal them by biting my lower lip. A frown appears on his face.

"Did you sleep well?" He attacks me with his voice again. I want to break the eye contact, but he raises his hand, brushing a strand of my short hair behind my ear, making me panic.

Many people raise their hands at me, but definitely not to brush my hair aside. The instinct to protect myself is not hard to conceal.

I raise my hand, gripping his hand. I bite my lip hard when I realize I was squeezing his hand, and I almost glare at him.

"Sorry…" I distance myself, letting go of his hand, taking a step back. His wrist felt like iron and I hope I didn't grip his hand to hard .He speaks again.

"Are you scared? Being part of the mafia will get you in worse situations than a hair brush." He stares at me, stares into my soul, as if he searches for something within me.

He puts his hands in his jacket's pockets.

I start to think that making eye contact with him is not good for me. Also, backing up when it comes to him might be a good choice. Something about him makes me lose my act.

"I am not scared." My hands are sweating from the stress of him having doubts about me and reconsider his decision of giving me a chance to prove myself. Striking a balance between appearing almost innocent and showcasing my lethal abilities proves to be a challenging feat.

I try to look away, but his next words make me lock eyes with him again. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure." My voice is steady. He smiles shortly and pats me on the shoulder while passing me, heading to the kitchen counter. I turn to follow his movement. He looks disgusted by the food half-eaten on the counter, and I can hear him murmur, "These pigs…."

I will have to avoid this man .