The News

The gods had smiled upon me and decided to bless me with their grace, so I was feeling incredibly happy. Confused? Let me elaborate.

I was in my room, minding my business and humming happily as I combed my hair and prepared myself for bed. All normal behaviour, right? Marco had just left my room and I was celebrating my little victory with the whole gun thing, when a clicking sound reached my ears.

I'd recognise that sound anywhere. It was the same sound that started ticking when I had been held in Marco's room. Immediately, my ear was to the wall, trying to locate it. The sound was coming from somewhere in my room, that was for sure, but the exact location was unknown to me.

"Where in the world are you?"

I stopped and stood absolutely still in an effort to pin point the location of the sound. After a while it started to feel like the noise was getting louder, so I followed it until I reached the source. What was the source, you ask? Well it wasssss… behind my bed's headboard. Great. The headboard wasn't screwed to the ground, thankfully, but it was very heavy, so moving it would definitely be an ordeal. First, though, something needed to disguise the sound of heavy furniture being moved around. There was a stereo in the room, but I didn't feel like letting the entirety of the DiBiancci house know what type of music I listened to. The next best thing would be the television.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the television, making sure to turn the volume up the entire way so I could try to move the headboard undisturbed.

"Ugh, CNN," of course the fakest news platform decided to be on. I didn't change the channel though, because everyone knew that news channels were the loudest things to even enter a persons ear drums. It would have to do.

I put down the remote and immediately began to push at the headboard, trying with all my might to get it to move. Remember how I said it wasn't screwed to the floor? Well it might as well have been, because it wasn't budging. My hands came down to the bottom edge of the frame and lifted it slightly, all while pushing at the same time.

"Jesus Christ," my face felt hot from all the effort. Was I this much of a weakling? My mind felt confused. How could I be this weak? I took Krav Maga classes every single weekend, my muscles should be more toned than this!

I stepped back from the bed with a sigh of defeat and wiped my forehead. Only then did I realise that the bed wasn't moving because there was a break lock beside tiny wheels at the bottom.

"I'm officially an idiot,"

After moving the lever and unlocking the breaks, I tried pushing the headboard again and finally, it came away from the wall. Immediately, my eyes went towards the little keypad thing on the wall, which seemed to be configuring a code because there were five slots which were running numbers, eventually stopping on a solid digit when it seemed to be the right one. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared intently at it. First of all, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what this thing was, much less why it was doing whatever it was doing.

I went toward the vanity table where I had been drawing and searched for the pen I had been using earlier, or really anything that would let me write down the numbers on this keypad thing. Whatever they were, whether code, or not, something in my gut told me that they'd be important, so it was in my best interest to write them down.

Finally spotting the pen, I looked around for a piece of paper before noting that the keypad was on its third digit. "Screw it, my hand will have to do."

There was no time to go searching for paper, so I wrote down the three digits on my palm and patiently waited for the remaining two. The process seemed to be taking a while, but that was okay, because it meant something had to be working right?

"Today on our missing person's report, Katarina Montenegro, heiress of the largest private airline company in Europe, Iridian, has been missing for eight days. The heiress disappeared during a commotion at the 'VIPers' nightclub in Miami, Florida, where she was reportedly celebrating her twenty-first birthday party," I froze and turned towards the TV, where a picture of my smiling face at the birthday party with my cousin was shown on screen.

"No," I rushed towards the television and grabbed it by the sides, frantically trying to manifest the opposite of what I was hearing. "No!"

"CEO and father, Salvador Montenegro, has issued a reward for anyone who calls in to this number reporting any sightings of the heiress. Police have currently found no trace or evidence of a kidnapping," a loud beep caught my attention, and I saw that the numbers had finished serialising. Rushing back was useless, because immediately after the beep, the screen reset and went dark. I had just lost my one chance at possibly gaining a code.

"No! No no no no no, DAMMIT!" In my anger, the tv had come off the perch where it was placed, and I flung it across the room, creating a crashing noise. The screen crackled and started flashing all types of colours. It had come into direct contact with the corner of my vanity, which created a hole and messed the entire system up. What a shame, it looked expensive.

Disbelief was beginning to flood my mind, and the one thought swirling through it was that I needed to come into contact with my father so I could tell him not to look for me. Something was pulling at my innards that told me I needed to stay put in the DiBiancci house. I wasn't dumb.

The moment daylight greeted me in Marco's bed, I saw the opportunity to get my hands on the one thing that would secure my seat as queen of the Euro-Mediterranean and North American organised crime dimension. Everything that had happened up until now, was destiny, and destiny wanted me to be the ruler of it all.

I couldn't be ruler of it all though, if my dad ruined my plans by trying to rescue me. All the money in the world wouldn't make me leave this house, and I needed to tell my father that exact same thing.

Footsteps came to a stop outside my bedroom door, and time seemed to slow as I immediately sprung to action, moving the bed frame back into place in order to hide my deeds. If anyone caught win that I'd found something interesting here, nobody would hesitate to throw me in a dungeon and make that my new living quarters. Then what? Going into a dungeon would ruin everything I wanted, and I wasn't smart enough to figure out an escape.

"What happened here?" It wasn't Marco like I'd hoped. Instead, it was a guard. The man really appointed guards to me? What was this, a movie? The guard looked at the television, then at my red face, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm on my days, it's nothing," I smiled sweetly at him and sat on the bed, crossing my legs gracefully, as I so often did whenever the 'red excuse' left my mouth. The man gave me a weird look and pulled out a walkie talkie. Seriously. A fucking walkie talkie. Was everything about this place a stereotype or was I crazy?

"Someone will be back to replace it soon," was all he said before the door closed again and left me in solitude. I was beginning to feel like there was something very wrong here, but my main thought was that I needed to get in contact with my father. How was I going to get my hands on a phone, though?

Looking around the room proved to be useless, because there wasn't anything around that could help me. Well, nothing except myself.

Looking in the large mirror inside the closet made me sigh. I had been hoping that I wouldn't have to seduce anyone until much later on, but as always, nothing went according to plan whenever I wanted something. Such is the struggle of a martyr.

Shrugging off the shoulders of my robe, I posed in different styles, trying to decide which one would be best. The only way that everything would look natural would be if I was applying lotion to my legs. What a drag. Having to moisturise twice in three hours wasn't exactly my definition of ideal.

After grabbing the lotion on my dresser, my feet led me back to the bed and the plan began to kick into place. I made sure to arrange my hair over my shoulder so it would add to the allure.

After about ten minutes, footsteps stopped in front of my door again and I quickly pumped lotion into my hands. "Here goes nothing."