The Office (pt. 1)

The keypad in front of my face was really starting to annoy me. I had waited all day until I heard the clicking sound again, and now that it had finally happened, I was ready for it. The pen in my hand was rhythmically tapping against my leg, and the paper I had against the wall was beginning to slip. The little screen was once again running through endless combinations, and I still couldn't figure out what it was for.

The thought had crossed my mind that it could've been a combination for the dungeon door, but that quickly became an obsolete thought when I realised that the combination for the dungeon security system had more numbers than this one did. This keypad seemed like it revealed a number for a safe, or something similar, but the thing was, why would it be in every room if it revealed the combination for a safe? It simply didn't make any sense at all.

I eliminated all my options one by one. Another idea was that the combination was to initiate a lockdown of the house if there was any danger. That made more sense, and it would explain why the keypad was in every single room, but in order to avoid any misconceptions, I wanted to make sure that it was what it was.

This time, I was ready. The moment the combination locked, I'd be ready and write it down. Doing all this detective work made me feel like a Nancy Drew type, and all I truly needed was a bubble pipe to complete the look. Actually, maybe some sensible shoes and a long trench coat would help as well. After all, dressing the part is half the battle! People say that, right? That's how the saying goes? Well it doesn't matter because that's what I always say—from this moment on— and that's all that matters.

A look at the clock let me know that it was two in the afternoon and almost time for me to make Marco's lunch. The weight of the time crunch only stressed me out more, and I couldn't wait until the code finally finished serialising so I could finally figure out what it was for. Considering I'd noticed that this little machine gave a different code every time it reset, it was only natural to assume that the code had to be used within twenty-four hours of it serialising or else I wouldn't be able to find out what it was for at all.

"Come on… come on, you stupid thing, hurry up!" I tried to speak the rush of the process into existence, but of course, nothing ever went my way. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and contemplated what to make the huge oaf who had successfully blackmailed me into being his personal chef and/or maid until he was fully recovered. What a crock of bs.

Marco wasn't as hurt as he made himself out to be, but I knew he was just testing my patience to see what I would do if he pushed me. He had taken to testing me as much as possible lately, but it was only a matter of time until I could finally swoop in for the final kill and brand everything as mine. Patience wasn't my virtue, but I would have to learn very quickly.

Finally after five more minutes, the machine beeped and I shot up from my laid back position to jot down the numbers. Luckily I got them all written down before the screen went black and the machine shut down again. Great, now I only had a limited amount of time to find out what this thing opened before having to scrap this combination and write down a new one.

If this wasn't a security system, I couldn't figure out why the hell there would be a keypad in every single room in the house. Well, what I thought to be every single room in the house. I hadn't found another keypad like this except in Marco's room. As far as I knew Marco was keeping me in a guest bedroom, so why would a guest bedroom have a keypad?

Okay wait, no. Nobody actually specified that this was a guest bedroom, I'd just assumed that for no reason. If this was a family bedroom, then it would make more sense… another question I had to find the answer to. Now that I had the combination, though, I could stash it and go make Marco his lunch.

I was leaving the room and preparing to go down the hall at the same time that Vincente was leaving his office. We glared at each other aggressively and he waited until I got to the stairs to follow at a safe distance. It was understandable if he didn't like me, I am my father's daughter, after all. After I killed Marco, Vince was next. I'd leave Aurelia for last.

"Ah, there you are," speak of the she-devil. Aurelia was standing at the kitchen counter with a cookbook cracked open and dozens of ingredients around her. "Take this to my son, would you?"

She handed me a plate stacked with what looked like sliders. There seemed to be enough here to fill a six foot four beast like Marco and I really didn't feel like cooking, so I shrugged and took it to him. Anything to lessen my burden. The day before, Marco made me do his laundry, and let me tell you, I discovered that he had the habit of piling the hamper high before letting anyone do his laundry.

He had turned me into his maid and it was a win-lose situation. There wasn't anything I could do because I was a hostage. If I refused to comply he wouldn't hurt me, but he would take it out on someone I cared about. He had managed to blackmail me by sticking someone to trail my cousin, and if anything was out of line here, a trigger would be pulled. I loved my cousin so naturally, I caved. Also, taking on the responsibility of acting like Marco's maid, I could learn about his ticks and habits.

I was determined to win, and I'd do anything it took.

"Knock knock!" My foot pushed the door open and I caught Marco mid pull-up, shirt off, sweaty, grunting like an ogre, face red, biceps bulging… wow. My eyes followed a drop of sweat that fell from his brow to between his pecs and trailed down his abs. What a mesmerising sight. He was my enemy but damn, he had a nice six pack. Looking at his abdomen drew my attention to the gauze—or lack thereof— that was covering his wound. This idiot, "tsk you're going to reopen your wound, dumbass."

I placed the plate down on his dresser and pulled on his arm to sit him down on his bed. The wound had just started to close, and now it was beginning to look raw again from the blood flow. He was just trying to make my job harder.

"What are you doing here?" Marco wiped at his forehead with a hand towel, grunting when I poked at the surrounding area of the immediate orifice. "Careful!"

"Sorry," there was no way I could redress this with him all sweaty and gross. He needed to take a shower and then stop movement. Since the wound was in his side below his ribs, it was an easy area to irritate. He was lucky none of his organs got punctured. "You need to stop working out until this thing is healed," I flicked the area and he basically almost roared like the beast from beauty and the beast. An evil smile stretched my lips.

"Fuck!" His large hand grabbed both of mine and I was on the floor in under a second. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I couldn't resist. Seeing you in pain brings me such ecstasy."

Marco clicked his tongue and got up, stepping around me to get to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower."

He closed the door behind him and I stayed put on the floor until I heard the shower turn on. I could not believe my luck! Alone time in his room? Fabulous!

Immediately, my detective senses kicked in and I began snooping, opening drawers, closing drawers, looking under surfaces, lifting surfaces, seeking secret compartments, discarding secret compartments when all I found in there was guns, etcetera etcetera. Then I made my way into his closet where my hands pulled back suits and shirts and slacks and coats to find anything suspicious looking on the wall panels. So far, nothing. I looked through his shoes and accessories, still nothing.

Even looking through his watch drawer for a sliver of a clue left me unsatisfied and angry. How hard was it to find something weird around here? This was a fucking Mafia lord's house for fuck's sake!

I ran a hand through my hair and let out a sharp breath. How inconvenient! I spent about fifteen minutes in both rooms looking for anything I could find and there was nothing!

"What are you doing?"

Marco was standing in the doorway of his closet with a towel in his hand and a confused look on his face. This man was godly, but my head was in the game, so not even water droplets running down his sexy body were about to distract me.

"Noticing the way you color coordinate your outfits in advance. Most people have their clothes in groups but you build your outfits and hang them up by the color of the jacket."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "So you came into my closet to get a close look at the way I hang up my clothes…?"

"Correct!" I smiled at him. Considering that I was desperate to get out of this room, I led him by the arm to his bed again and sat him down. "Now let me go to work."

Neither of us said anything as I dried, cleaned and dressed his wound, but we didn't have to. There was something loud in the air anyway and almost all of me was convinced that it was sexual tension. I was on my knees in front of him and he was leaning back to give me better access to his side. From a certain angle this would look so wrong, and by the way he was looking down at me I could tell that we both knew it.

I had to snap out of it, though, he's my enemy. We were born enemies and we would die enemies. It was inevitable.