I groaned, slamming my hand on my alarm.

It's eight in the morning, yet I feel like I was hit by a truck last night and lived to have to wake up in the morning. I better get this damn job.

Jumping from bed, I take a quick shower and pull on a loose white blouse with a slight v-neck, as well as a navy skirt that sits just on top of my knees with a small slit. I am looking quite professional for something I pulled together from the pile of clothes in my closet.

I chose some nude ballet flats because heels suck, and no one can change me from that mentality.

I have a granola bar before leaving my apartment at eight forty five. The address on the business card is only round the corner, so I'll be good for time.

Today I decided to take the elevator down to the main entrance and walk. Pressing the button, I patiently wait until the doors open and I step inside, clicking on the ground level.

This apartment complex is one of the fanciest in New York, and I was lucky I was able to persuade Mum and Dad that I didn't need any fancier. They kept pestering me saying that it was better if i was in a place that was safe and bla bla bla.

This place is beautiful, yet it still holds the face of 'i'm a rich girl who likes to spend daddy's money'. Yes, i do get looks from people when i walk out the building, but i have come to get used to it. I mean, it's not like I flaunt that I'm wealthy or anything.

Once I reach the ground floor, I step out into the foyer where I notice that the fancy restaurant has begun setting up for the day. I give the desk persons a smile and a wave before leaving the building.

I'm instantly bombarded with men in suits. Shit. I completely forgot they were following me around.

I give a sheepish smile to Luca who stands in front of me. "Look, I spoke to my father and I understand that you must look out for me, but I have an interview in fifteen minutes, and I don't want to give a bad impression with you guys breathing down my neck." I say with as much politeness as i can muster.

Luckily Luca gives a nod, understanding. "We will drop you to your interview and then wait for you outside."

I'm about to open my mouth in protest until I realise there's no point, Luca and his men are just doing their job.

I followed Luca and the other men to a black SUV, the exact one I saw following me the other day. I give the driver the address and within two minutes, i'm standing outside the intimidating building which looks as if it stands at, at least one hundred stories tall.

Taking a deep breath, I step inside past the glass revolving doors. I head to reception and give the lady there a smile. She is beautiful, like a model. Suddenly i feel so small compared to her. "Hello." I greet you. "I'm Mia, and i'm here to see--" Omg i haven't actually checked the dudes name. I quickly look at the business card.

Matteo Giovanni.

Well this dude is definitely Italian.

I wonder if he's hot...

"Mr Giovanni, for the interview..." I continue, hoping I'm not as hopelessly awkward as I think I am.

"Yes, he is expecting you on level eighty-two. Here is a visitors pass which will temporarily allow you to use the elevators, just bring it back to be when you're finished. Have a nice day." She hands me the pass and I say my thanks, heading towards the elevator.

I get inside with three other people and tap the pass on a pad, hitting the button for eighty-two. My nerves are beginning to get the best of me, and I feel my hands begin to get sweaty.

Within a minute, I'm the last to get out of the lift.

I step into a beautiful, large waiting room with gigantic windows looking out onto New York city. It's a view anyone would die for. I head to a desk where I see another beautiful lady tying away at a keyboard.

"Hey, I',--" I start, but am cut off by the lady.

"Hello, yes, yes, i was just told of your arrival. Please, Mr Giovanni is waiting just down that corridor to the right. Good luck."

"Oh okay, thank you." I say, heading in the direction she pointed. That was weird, she looked slightly concerned. Do I not look the part?

Oh gosh, what am i even doing here?

Before I even knew it, I reached the door, frosted glass which allowed me to only see the pacing shape of a mad inside, yelling on what I guess must be the phone. It's very faint but I draw closer, getting a better listen.

"Uccidi il bastardo, non mi importa più dei soldi, lo voglio solo morto. Riporta immediatamente la sua testa nel mio ufficio." (Kill the bastard, I don't care about the money anymore, I just want him dead. Immediately return his head to my office.)

I stumble backwards, clasping my hand to my mouth. What the hell did I just hear? Is that supposed to be a metaphor, or literal?

I move closer to the door carefully, continuing to listen in on the conversation.

"No, ho un'intervista tra un minuto con una ragazza stupida che Dante pensava fosse sexy." (No, I have an interview in a minute with a stupid girl Dante thought was sexy.)

What the hell! I should've known that Dante didn't care for the languages I could speak. I mean who am i kidding, why did i even think that was the case in the first place?

I lean against the door further.

"Tagliagli la testa mentre è ancora vivo, voglio che soffra." (Cut off his head while he's still alive, I want him to suffer.)

I let out a squeal when I fall into the room, having leaned too much on the door that I hadn't realised was slightly open.

That's when I realise, I am in deep shit.