Moretti left his car parked a few blocks from the club, safely tucked away from onlookers. I quickly made my way to it, taking brisk steps to make sure he didn't catch up to me.

Should I do this? I asked myself as I ran my finger across the black paint of the sports car. Guilt tugged at my stomach. Guilt and worry for Moretti. How would he get home?

Shut up. Stop being soft. What happened to you?

The guilt was quickly ripped away by my anger and I yanked the door handle to the drivers seat. It wouldn't budge. Locked.

With a heavy sigh, I took a few steps back. I slid off my stiletto smoothly and chunked it at the window, shattering the glass. Quickly, I unlocked the door through the open window and climbed inside, brushing off the broken glass on the seat.

Luckily, I had lots of experience hot wiring cars. Hopefully I could do it in time to escape Moretti, surely he's not far behind me. He was so, so angry before. I don't have the slightest inclination why he acted so jealous earlier. Why would he be jealous? I'll admit my behavior isn't the most professional, but since when did I ever promise it would be. For fucks sake, I kill people, why would you assume I had my morals in line?

Was he truly jealous of that man? Was he mad it was not him entwined with me?

You're being stupid. Just get the damn car started.

In no time, the car started up. I got back up in the seat and prepared to pull off, after all I had a good bit of packing to do.

In my rear view mirror, I could see a tall, suit clad man stalking, no stomping my way. Goddamn, he's fast. Without a second thought, I pressed down on the gas as far as I could, leaving nothing but dust and broken glass.

__

The ride to Moretti's mansion was typically a long one, but due to my anger and lead foot, I was able to make it there in less than ten minutes. I speedily parked the car on the front steps, not caring. I whipped open the car door and stomped to the front door, met by a butler.

"Ma'am, Mr. Moretti has informed me that you are not to leave th-" The older man said, standing in my way.

"I don't really give a fuck what he says." I sidestepped the old man and swiftly ran up the stairs. I quickly made it to my room where I threw all my belongings back into my bag, making sure to grab every single blade and gun, including the one I almost killed Moretti with when he snuck up on me.

He's so infuriating. I cant believe he said those things to me. Who does he think he is? I was going to kill the man anyways and do my job. I don't understand the issue. I huffed and changed out of the tiny dress into a tank top and black jeans, switching my stilettos for Docs. I think my smudged lipstick and scarily messed hair really tie the whole look together.

I sling my bag on my shoulder and left the room. I looked down the stairs to see the butler and security guards in the lobby, most likely waiting for me. I know they aren't going to let me go anytime soon. Shit.

I'm good at what I do but I don't think I'm going to have much luck against seven trained security guards at once. I sneakily back away from the railing of the stairway and out of their eyesight. Making my way back into the dim hallway.

I search around for another other sets of stairs that could lead me to freedom. However, it seems there are no such stairs. Finally, as a last resort, I look to the window at the end of the hall.

Perhaps if I could tie some bedsheets and cl-

A sudden deep voice coming front the downstairs hallway interrupts my thoughts. It's angry and ragged. "Where has she gone?" It barks at the other men downstairs. I don't hear a response from them, and I don't wait for one. There's no time for the sheets. I'll just have to jump.

I open the window, feeling the heavy breeze brush harshly against my face, whipping my hair around me. It's cold. I toss my bag out the window and hear it drop with a heavy thud. I seriously hope my body doesn't make that sound.

Moretti's voice rises again, "Please, tell me you haven't let her leave." This time, however, it's much more raspy and vulnerable.

The drop ahead of me looks pretty far, and I see no ledge of any sort for me to grab onto to lessen my fall. I take a swallow.

I look back and check my surroundings once again, only to be stared back at by blue eyes.

Then, I jump.

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