"How does that feel? Good, right?" He breathed heavily.

I released a breath, "So, good."

The handcuffs clanked onto the floor with a loud bang. I immediately grabbed my wrists and rubbed them. I even faked a wince or two for extra sympathy points.

Hank had led me into what looks like his office. Compared to the filth of the basement, this room looked more like the inside of Moretti's house. The walls were red and the floors were dark hardwood. I leaned myself up against the wood of his large desk and glanced around the room.

"Wow, Hank. You must've done well for yourself." I looked around at the high ceilings and silk curtains.

He lit a cigarette and stuck it between his thin lips, "I have my ways. It's all about who you know, who you can use. I taught you that." He took a long drag from his cigarette before he spoke again.

He slowly walked in front of me, trapping me between him and the cool desk. He caressed my hair with a dirty, calloused hand. "You remember all the things I taught you, right?"

Yes, no matter how hard I tried to forget.

Hank lifted another hand to touch me and it took everything I had in me not to flinch and revolt against his touch.

Luckily, the door opened just in time.

Hank turned away from me and I was finally able to breathe in fresh air that wasn't tainted by his rank breath.

"Sir, the dinner is in an hour," A man who stood at the door spoke, not looking Hank directly in the eyes.

Hank nodded as the man left. He turned back to me and grabbed my cheeks harshly.

"Guess who's gonna be my date."

_

I was sent away with two maids to a spare bedroom. The entire time, they didn't speak a single word to me.

They just swiftly combed my hair and threw makeup on me to cover the bruises. They curled the ends into perfect waves and coated my lips in a dark red color.

Looking at me, you'd have no idea I was being held hostage.

They brought me to the bed which had a small, black dress laying on top of it. I assumed that would be mine for the night.

"Who's going to be at this dinner?" I asked.

But they didn't even look up at me, they just slid on my shoes and adjusted the skirt of the dress like they hadn't heard a thing.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

"Hey, let's play a game! Stay silent if you're a stuck up bitch." I smiled brightly at them. This garnered a look from them, but not a peep.

"Congratulations, you guys won." I deadpanned.

I think I got one of them to roll their eyes at me. "Hey, I saw that!"

But they soon fled the room, locking the door behind them.

Immediately when I heard their feet travel down the hallway, I ran to the windows. Checking every single one, I noticed bars on the inside of them.

"Fucking hell."

I looked for anything that could be used as a weapon. But the entire fucking room was Psycho-proofed.

Three knocks on the door broke my attention away from looking for an escape.

I didn't respond quick enough and three knocks turned into loud bangs on the door.

"I don't have all day, bitch!" Hank yelled from the other side.

I responded back, "I'm ready!" in the most innocent, scared voice I could fake. I knew Hank liked that.

He unlocked the door without hesitation and grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me out into the hallway and dragging me behind him. "Cant be late, now can we?" He taunted.

___

Suits. The dining room was filled with suits. High quality. These men had money. But if they were with Hank, then they were not the good guys.

Not like I was one either, though.

I made sure to play my part as the coy, quiet eye candy, who was blissfully unaware of what the men were discussing once we sat down.

But I knew everything. These idiots underestimated me. I memorized each one of their ugly faces so I knew who to kill when I got the fuck out of here.

One older man spoke a name which really peaked my interest, "Has Elenora Moretti provided funds yet?" He took a sip of his drink.

Hank laughed shortly, "Not yet, but when I send her son's hand to her in a box, I'm sure she'll speed things up."

I squeezed the arm of my wooden chair till it almost cracked and splintered.

What the hell did he mean? Was Moretti hurt? Had he done it already? Please tell me he hadn't.

I somehow managed to keep my face emotionless, but I noticed how Hank looked over to me, hoping to get a reaction of some sort. Not happening, bitch.

Another man smirked, "Adriano Moretti is quite the catch. How did you ever capture him?"

Hank smiled, his eyes wrinkling sat the sides.

He slapped my back lightly and caressed my shoulder. "It was all thanks to this little girl right here."

_

a/n: i feel like this is shitty idk