Ethan Taylor, Chief director of BN law firm. The only law firm in the entire nation, that can vouche for their client not ending up in jail, ever. Beside him sat were, the highest place and status owning people of the nation, and so was Jason.

Studying law in my studies, I've heard tonnes of things about Ethan. Seeing him right through, sends my body in a cold hibernation. He is a double edged sword, but very apt with himself. He is said to carry his own principles in life. I somehow liked the way he had dealt cases through his career. A true intellect.

"I, wish to serve you well tonight." The framed line I'm supposed to speak, comes out in my petite young adult voice. My not so pale hands radiate the neon lights of the bar booth room. It was spacious with couches and much like a hotel suit living room. Away from CCTVs, but their bodyguards are just a button press away. Must bear that in mind.

"So you will," Liam Anderson, the youngest man in the group, beside Ethan, licks his lips that instantly throw me off guard, my expressions are caught red handed by them, as they all cunningly smile a little.

That brat CEO of Andersons needs a grip on himself! He is a pro douchebag.

"You're too young for the face, but your manners and body, come off mature enough." James Castillo, the police chief shot, I had no interest in his little thirst trap, "Wouldn't that be expected of me," so I rather stated with a sultry tone. The men smiled, except one, Jason. His eyes since I arrived, only laid once on me. After I spoke, he hasn't even been looking in my direction.

God damnit!

"Ah. You're sweet with talks, how about your skills?" The second ultimate fear instilling man of the group, Andrew, boss and manager of an underworld mob and gang company, put forth his hand open. Being in his hands can mean signing your death warrant, that too on illegitimate papers. But either way you die.

I know what this means, I don't wish to please him. But . . . I need to take my chances, will this make Jason look at me.

Unwantingly, I gulped with a pleasant expression and gave in, as Andrew's cold palm caged mine. The size difference somehow scared me.

Maybe . . . I really can't do this.

No. No! I need to.

Being scared is for the mentally stable bitches.

Smiling again, I let him take my hand as he places a chaste kiss on the back of it.

"Hm. Sweet," he holds his eyes into mine, "You're too young, Miss-?"

"Please call me Sam," I remove the wine bottle and professionally uncork it, after placing the glasses near each man.

"Sam. How old are you? We won't end up in jail to have a glass with you, right?" David, the all time favourite of people, an assemblyman, chuckles gazing me up and down.

"I'm 24, but the latter would be an honour." I lied ever so innocently.

I'm just 20. But then, giving my information to such people, might trouble me ahead if my plan fails. Can't let that happen.

I take my time to pour them each a glass as they slowly talked among themselves. I kept my ears open and handed out the wine with my eyes low, a visible sign of submission.

Not that I give two fucks about them or their power, but it feels good to play with men carrying vast egos too.

The moment they feel, the damsel in distress is theirs to save. And then boom, she was never one anyway.

Though again, I need someone to save me right now. Look at me, Jason Carnell. Look at me. I need you to-

"Did you have an aunt who's no longer with you?"

.

.

.

.

Who is this bitch to know about me? The fuck!

I look up from my place while serving to the sixth person sitting anti clockwise, Asher Bennett, the money broker guy for this group.

My eyes waft to the Matthew guy beside Asher, the new eighth member of the Specials. He was praised by Liam for doing some good surgery recently. Is he a doctor? I don't know his background. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really need to study him tonight.

"I, don't recall having one." I nervously smile to ease the seriousness in his deep voice. His strained cold grey eyes looking me down through the frameless specs tore away on an instant and his face, adorned with strong features lit up with a bashful grin, "I mistook you for someone else then, apologies."

Although his words left me partly wounded, he, amongst the flesh eating and blood thirsting wolves here, somehow felt like a golden retriever.

What's with his vibe? Ugh.

He thanks for the drink, as I feel eyes on me. Finally.

Jason looked down uninterested, did he expect Mary to come? Would it have been better to let Mary tag along me here? Why are his actions so indecipherable? I can't de-code his thinking.

After serving him the last glass, I'd have to walk away or if they ask to, become their pet for a short show. Which is unlikely since they are just hanging around, they won't need a woman. So why meet like this? Perhaps . . . two members are in need of resources.

I close my eyes for a second, as my hand twirls the glass while I pour the wine.

Anderson's, People's Bank, Andrew.

All the people sitting here have either a worn off expression or a need to talk out things casually, only these three are in mood for business. Why?

C'mon, recall, quick.

.

Got it, Anderson's is in dire need of lower rates on loans for the Magnus .Co collaborative project, and the cash cow- People's bank is under Asher's influence, who requires men to dirty hands and get his money back from a millionaire who had ran off overseas to not repay-

That explains why the three are only one so invested here. Reading tabloids help, after all.

Anderson's will be soon giving some under the table gifts or stocks to Andrew, so he can do the job for our cash cow. And then the cash cow will fulfill Liam the brat's demand, for lower rate loans. They might even sign it off as a donation.

Riches and their ditches.

"How long till you give me the glass?" My daze was broken as I shiver under the copper eyes of my target.

Jason Carnell, finally looking at me.

What do I do?

How can I, make him . . Help me.

Should I talk him seductively? No, he is too old for that.

Should I cry and make him fix an appointment with me? He is bigshot, why would he worry about a nobody.

Should I, acuse him of something? Does that even work anymore. . .

Then I will,

.

I choose to crawl back in hell, I guess.

In the heat and unknown tension of the moment, I fixed my eyes into his.

He leans down, waiting to get the glass, I can sense the other members looking at me and my late delivery of glass.

Jason's face shows no emotion, his body language gives off no taint, just his rolled up sleeves of grey business suit allows me to take a view of his veiny lean muscled hands, the double plated silver ring in his thumb, the more than my annual salary expensive watch, and, my breathe hitches when someone clears their throat rascally.

Last option, final plan.

No regrets, no going back.

No more choices, only action, now Samara. Now.

As my eyes glistened with unshed tears, I poured the glass of wine on Jason's shoes.

Gently, elegantly, peacefully, while looking directly into his copper eyeballs, they don't widen- they don't twitch.

They are as calm as a flame burning inside a chemical test tube, they are as unresponsive as of a patient in coma, they are- somehow curious. As to why I'm doing this. But he doesn't remark anything nor did he slip aside his feet, till the entire glass got empty.

I kept hearing gasps in the background and men eyeing us and flailing hands in Jason's direction, he looked me deeper in the eyes, and raised his hand to shush them.

It's only a matter of fact my eyes would water, slightly. But my will hasn't shaken an inch.

I offer him the empty glass.

Getting in his good records is ofcourse impossible, but if I can take a chance by being in his bad chapters; hell might not be that bad.

He takes the empty glass and looks at it indifferently, "Is this some special way to serve wine, sweetheart?" He smiles flashing his dimples along.

I don't answer and look at him desperately, how can't you see that, I'm trying so bad to get your attention.

I need your help.

"You remind me of someone, Sam." He raises his hand again, and pats my head before pushing a strand of my long dark hair behind ear.

"What the fuck was that, you, why did you disrespect him like that? Do you've a death wish?" I hear Andrew slamming down his glass on the table in centre and it tore my eyes away from Jason's.

When I try turning to Andrew, my head is held in stiff position by Jason's palm, "You can leave." His voice is menacing, and somehow, I get a sense of victory, like I finally got into his bad side. He closes distance between our faces and whispers, "Don't try to fool around any longer," as if he gritted it out, my guts confirm that I'd be tracked down tonight.

Which is, a great thing. Honestly.

I take my clue and leave after a slight bow, "She is passively feisty, I like it," The brat Liam spits and Ethan smacks his thigh, I turn around and leave the door of room closed meanwhile.

Have I succeeded?

Will he come after me? Hope he does.

I wonder why I've to choose him out of all the beings on planet, but, what if . . .he too won't help?

I told this before to myself, will do that again, 'I shall die, a painful death at that, to go against Jason Carnell.'

.

"How was it? Did they ask you to do something-?

"Nothing. They were polite and nice too. But that won't make me change and serve all the elite classes from now." I smile mischievously as Jessica shakes her head in disbelief.

"You and your distaste for the rich class, didn't you also come here to earn? What's wrong with being greedy for money."

"My need and reason for money is different than theirs though, please don't weigh us in same scale." I pursed my lips.

"We all are running the same race, Samara. Remember that." Jessica walks off, and I know I've hurt her ego by a millimeter. She had to face worst of days due to no money and no work. Which I can relate to, but running after money was one thing I never did. Not at least for myself. I still dont.

Wait. Why am I working in a bar again? Huh.

.

Making slits in Mary's heels, cutting a gash in her skirt, keeping the white wine bottle in below shelves so it's harder to find it, making a ruckus of kitchen just so I could get the opportunity to serve Jason.

And, what I do is, spill the wine all over his shoes. It might take me years to just repay him that much money for destroying them. But, glad they didn't complain about me and walked out without chaos.

If only Katrina didn't told me of him.

Will this leave an impression on him? If it does, I'm getting my plan started.

If not, he might never even see me, or if he does. Will that allow me to stand out in his eyes again?

Who did I remind him of?

What if they . . . make me stop working here? Where to work again so I get close contact with Jason?

Because he is a regular here, this bar was the safest and easiest option to go through.

.

I puff out smokes while holding a cigarette in my fingers, as my other cold hand dips into coat pocket.

It's late as always, and don't know if I will catch a bus to reach my basement quarter.

Huff

Let's just take it unhurried, what if I get abducted by him on the way?

But wouldn't it better to just take me in a van rather than, smashing my head with a baseball bat.

My steps slow down as I realise around four men are following me with bats and other metallic stuff with them.

Goodness, I will be bleeding?

I walk on, nevertheless, what some beatings can do to me. Anyway.

Three men come in sight as they approach me, and then, bells ring, chimes swing and my eyes black out.

I fainted

, right?

_________________________________
(Bruf, she is crazy. Again, this ain't normal, dont wish that someone kidnaps you. Okay? Seek help!!! )

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