Chapter no 5

He had realized that while working in one of the Viale's businesses, he should expect to see her. But he didn't realize it will be this soon and If he is being honest, it was not a meet-up he was looking forward to.

The moment she walked into that absurd bar, he recognized her. And to his surprise, she had recognized him as well. He could see it on her face. The amazement! He was entertained at least by her stunned reaction. The girls sat down and were having a chatter. A good friend, he could see they were fair mates, all four of them. He, on the other hand, was a loner, to say the least. No friends, little to no family, but a good amount of enemies. 

"Excuse me!" He heard and immediately recognized the voice, In his line of work, remembering the minute details of people is just a part of coding his brain is made into, most of which he owes to his photographic memory. And he seems to remember much about her too. 

He walked to her, ready for a snarky comment from her side, but that never came, instead he was requested to fill her a glass of Irish Whiskey, with a please at the end. He turned around thinking about her good taste in alcohol. Irish Whiskey was one of his favorites too. Finding similarities now, he thought to himself. 

Also, He found himself admiring how well-behaved she was today, And he found himself not as opposed to the idea of encounters as he was before. 

Miss Vitale, or how she introduced herself as, Eleanor, not with a Vitale at the end; also made the impression on him that she was either those not claiming for one's class, else she would have bragged about belonging to one of the wealthiest families of all, Or she was not a fan of being in a Vitale lifestyle. Nonetheless, it was good about her. 

He watched her every motion, and gesture of her hands as she rambled on and on. Her glistening smile when her friend said something funny, The way her eyes sparkled and closed at every gulp of her whiskey. Her head moved at the song blasting on the speakers. 

While on the other hand, she was losing herself to the alcohol swirling through her vessels, exciting her nerves. She felt herself getting up with her hands held by Amy, who was intent on pulling her to the dance floor, among many other somewhat humans moving along with the music. The offer tempted her tipsy self and she followed behind her, reaching the floor and swaying her body to harmony. She didn't know the song but she couldn't care less. For a long time, trying to convince herself not to think about him; while he stayed in her surroundings, always visible in her peripheral; she was tired of her own mind. She was happy that her brain was getting numb from reasoning and she could finally enjoy her night as she had the right to. 

The melody weaved through her ears and she trips the light fantastically, swaying her hips from side to side, hands in the air, eyes half closed, intoxicating anyone who looked into them. So, they did. The eyes were clearly viewed by the man standing behind the bar, inebriated him too. 

He peeled off his eyes from her dancing form all too enchanting and reminded himself back to his work. What he was doing for the past two hours was not what he should be doing. 

Almost 9 PM and his shift were over. Gladly, he cleared the last of his drink requests, and with a long last glance at her, which she noticed almost immediately and reciprocated well, he left. She watched his eyes as they moved over her body, and stopped at her eyes. They both stared at each other for a time she can ponder to be long enough for her to hold her breath. And he finally broke the contact, walking towards the back door. 

He walked to the changing room in the back with his bag in his hands, he removed his shirt and stared at his reflection. A bandage around his upper left arm and one on his right lower abdomen. Gunshots. They had been healing and as the doctor quoted, were not as bad as they could be. He remembered the time he was cheated while going to kill Mr. Vitale. He hadn't been as careful as he needed to be, dealing with a person this strong, and this empowered both with money and loyalty. 

*Flashback starts*

Fifteen men, guns pointed at the three of us. Everyone thought we lost already, But I didn't. I would not lose until I feel my last breath leaving my body. 

With anger pumping through me, I launched at the man right next to me and pushed behind him, using his body as a human shield, I shot as much clarity as I can while saving my own fucking life. 

Moving from the man I was holding to the next man almost falling limp from my shot, I grabbed him and covered myself, whilst going straight for a headshot of anyone in sight. I could feel a couple of bullets hit my body but stopped midway by the bulletproof vest. 

My arms not being secure enough were vulnerable and thus taken care of by a bullet from the opposite side. The bullet went straight into my upper left arm and passed through what I could tell was the upper part of the dermis. 

After almost being killed with three bullets almost hitting my head and one that hit my arm. We were done, at least I was done, and my two partners were dead on the ground along with all the other men. 

I looked around to find the man in question for all this mess, and just as I had expected, he was nowhere in sight. the window was open, doesn't take long to put the two together. 

I moved closer to the window and looked down from the corner of my eye. No sign of Mr. Vitale. 

But many signs of cars entering the hemisphere of Vitale's base, the cars belonging to Alexander and his gang.

God Forbid, A war was just about to start and my gang is under any circumstances going to lose, and I had to save his life and Alexander's. He too helped him in dark times. 

I grabbed two guns from the dead people lying around. The guns served them no good, maybe they can serve me something. I filled up the guns with ammo and put them in my belt holsters. Grabbing onto two of my own guns, best in the loot as compared to the others lying around, each in one hand. With a deep breath, my grip on his guns tightened, and my heart raced. I walked through the hallways, running downstairs, shooting at every sight of a silhouette. I had almost forgotten the path I took while coming upstairs. A few minutes ago, I had two people with him, coming up the same stairs, ready to kill Mr. Vitale; And now the two men were dead, and Vitale was on the run. The chaos of people and the deafening sound of guns and cries, along with blood at every glance, was an ugly sight for even me. And what was more ugly is the fact that I had a big hand in all of this. It was my plan initially. 

Shooting, ducking, rolling, and shooting again; I had trained a long time for all this, and now all of it coming in handy. My eyes were searching for Alexander and Vitale. Whilst all the firing, my eyes finally land on Alexander, ducking behind a truck and shelling the area. I close the distance between us, hiding and rolling. 

As I reached the car next to him my eyes catch the sight of Vitale, standing almost behind Alexander ready to cut his throat with a big board knife. I lunge forward and pull Alexander right before the horrific incident and taking Vitale by surprise. Two of his men move towards me and try to blow a punch. I grab his hand before it could hit my face and shoot right at his heart, and turn sharply to shoot the next one. Both of them fell limp on the ground and Just as I had thought, Vitale disappeared into the thin air. Just like the men in the office, these two were just a distraction for us, for Vitale to gain enough time to escape with us by killing his men. 

"We will lose," I told Alexander, "And because I owe you, I have to get you out of here before you die," 

"I won't leave my men-," He was interrupted by me tugging at his arm, "If you die, your men will become his slave, for him to kill when he needs time to escape the enemy," I said pulling him along the cars towards the exit, "I don't know about you but I would not want that,"

Moments after my Ammo had finished, and with another wound in my lower right abdomen, we were outside, away from the war horizon. 

"Call for peace," I said to Alexander. he looked at me, surprise visible on his face. "You want me to yield, to back of-," "Yes, I want that, I want to save your whole clan and half of his from dying," 

"I again would sign a peace treaty with him, that he would again violate," He said, "That mother fu.cker cares nothing about the rules," 

I sigh, "You fucking run a gang, among the most dangerous people on earth, Of course, he would give a shit about your rules and treaty and so should you," I said, "I fucking respect his opinions, he would do anything to win, so would I," 

"Fine," He gave a call to his right-hand man, asking him to cut it for all and call peace. 

"I'll take my leave," I said, turning around. "Oh and I resign," I turned again and told him.

"WHAT? Why?" His day was getting worse and worse. I felt bad for the poor man. "I wanna leave this shit for a while, It all has taken a toll on me, I need some time away from the blood and crime," 

"But you can take a long vacation," 

"And know that I am still bound to this duty, this filthy corruption. Spare me," 

"What would you do?" he asked, his eyes filling with annoyance and somewhat pain from my betrayal. "Something, anything, normal," 

"When you were brought to me, I saw the darkness in your eyes, the rage of doing something, the greed of becoming something, the lust of making a name for yourself. I trained you, watched you. Dark forces reside within you, You will never be able to rest and be normal, Boy, This filthy corruption is in your blood," 

"You are wrong at the blood part," I said quietly and turned away, walking straight to my bike. I left for the hospital, while he watched me leave, standing all alone in the middle of the road.

*Flashback ends*

And with a small interview and a lot and lot of papers sighings, he secured a well-paying job in the bar. A big step to changing his life for the good. He could interact with people, drink, and maybe enjoy his time there too. The occasional visits of Miss Vitale or many other girls would add an ambiance to his All-Guns lifestyle.

Miss Vitale on the other hand, was tired after a long day and many hours of dancing. Whilst having fun, an image of her father with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face waiting at the foyer appeared in her mind. It was almost half past ten and she decided it was time to go home. 

She greeted her friends with a goodbye hug, grabbed her bag, and noticed a different bartender. His shift had ended. Early sleeper, early riser kind of guy; Just like her dad. 

Her ride home was peaceful to the outside but not from the inside. A tipsy, all-tired, and aching body, with a racing mind. a very bad combination. She was unsatisfied. And she didn't know why, which made her more pissed. 

She hated when her thoughts left her desperate and breathless, and this was exactly what was happening. She cringed at the sound of big metal gates opening for her car to enter. The car halted in front of the porch. Her dad was not at the door. she looked at the time on her watch, five minutes before eleven. 

Her door was opened for her, and she dashed out, with her bag in one hand and the phone in the other. With a light stomping on the stairs and a loud screech of 'I am home', She was in her room. The room was dark, only being illuminated b the moonlight. She turned on her lamp. The light from the lamp changed color, fading from one shade to another. 

She dropped her bag and removed her shirt. she fall on the bed, on her stomach, hand in the air, landing in odd directions. 

Again she was facing chaos burning lightly in her. Who is she? What is her own identity? Or what she wants her identity to be when she completes high school? All she has to herself is the title of being a Vitale. that was it. But was it actually fulfilling of her own identity, to just be the daughter of the most famous businesses man in the whole of Washington? 

And today this thought was again provoked, burning deep within her heart, while she was sitting on one of the stools, in front of the bar, being ignored by her will-not-admit crush.

Why would he be interested in her? What was so special in her for him to notice her or take interest in her? And just because she is a Vitale, with beautiful features was not enough. many like her were there, many more pretty, many more famous. How did she stand out?

It wasn't even about him, it was about her. her desperation of being a known self, of claiming and achieving something of her own, On which she can be arrogant and prideful. Something she had a right to be proud of and it was definitely not her father's money from a long race of ancestors. 

Every time she looked at someone trying to struggle to achieve their goals, their dreams, To be something, someone with their own name. Women with inspiring stories of being an astronaut, a CEO of a self-made multinational company, a struggle to write the most perfect book, being rejected several times and then becoming the highest paid author with the most read book, to be a black woman from the conservatives of minds, and making her name as the most famous singer. She wanted a goal for herself. A journey of finding herself, her true potential, To not just e a woman, an heiress to his father's business, like many other people around her but a name earned for her by herself. 

And now she was more than desperate for it.