Hazel.

My nerves swayed as my eyes searched the massive room, filled with numerous books. About three very long shelves compiled these books, and I couldn't conceal my amusement.

Excitement overwhelmed me when I spotted one of my favorite books; I could recognize it by only the cover even amongst thousands of other books.

Fifty shades of grey.

Did she read this too. I wouldn't judge a human for seeking excitement in a book, but it still seemed odd. Why did she have so many books? I could have started blathering about the gigantic library if I weren't in this tight situation.

I sat in a quite comfortable chair to be honest. It was dark in color, just like any other furniture in this room. It's material a rich leather, like most. This was really nice except my hands were securely placed together and a black tie encircled them tightly.

Definitely, roleplay.

I wanted to giggle, but there was nothing funny about any of this. Another bead of sweat left my hair and slid over my forehead to my nose. I was scared! I wanted to cry. My bottom lip quivered vigorously and my eyes were watery too. Another minute in this place, I'd be able to pee my pants.

It wasn't the books that freaked me out, I actually loved the sight of such a gigantic collection of what I presumed were amazing books. It was the sight of the furious woman in front of me as well as the other two men, muscular and dressed in black; ready to attack at the signal of their leader.

Three pairs of eyes scanned me like I had committed the worst crime of all times, all because I eavesdropped on Armani's conversation. It was wrong of me to do that, I shouldn't have left the car. But the curiosity nerves led me to the deserted building where Armani and the men had headed to.

"So." Armani placed her hands on the huge oak table, forcing me to look into the furious green eyes. "What exactly is wrong with you?"

My eyes darted to the three people interrogating me. "Nothing," I responded. Oh, how my voice shook with terror. I shouldn't have done that, I already learnt my lesson.

"I'm not sure about that." Armani shrugged and started rolling up the sleeves of her dark dress shirt. And those tattoos spread themselves before my eyes.

I gasped.

It was insane, as though she wore a shirt printed in dark ink up to just above her wrists. I wondered what else she hid under her clothes.

"Hey, focus." She snapped her fingers in my face, drifting my attention from her tattooed forearms to her face - she was so not smiling. Not even a smirk or anything that said 'nice'. "What did you see?"

"Nothing." I swallowed the lump in my throat. My cheeks were wet, and the water works started. "I didn't see anything, I swear...I swear."

I was crying like a child in less than a second. I was in so much trouble and I knew it. But would crying buy me my way out?Armani only watched me, her hands placed in the pockets of her trousers.

"Leave us alone," she ordered the two men who reluctantly left. "You're wasting your tears, Hazelnut. I will get what I want from you, whether you cry or not."

This right here was a scene from a crime investigation movie. I was the daughter of a drug dealer and they caught me to ask some questions about my father.

"So, let's begin." She sat on the corner of the desk. Her leg gently swinging and brushing the side of my thigh. I prayed that dress wouldn't be stained and God, those heels were killing me. I tried to slip out of them, but it was unsuccessful. I needed my hands.

"I promise you, Ms Armani, I will say whatever you want me to say, just please, I need a favor," when I couldn't take it anymore, I spoke. And the moment those guys left, I stopped sobbing. She made it clear that my tears wouldn't help. Might as well save them to cry my mother a river on her funeral.

"You're not really in a place to make demands, Hazelnut." She cocked her eyebrows. "But what do you need? You're my guest after all."

Wait, was this library her house? It was just a library in the middle of the street and a lady in glasses at the front desk. She didn't say much, only smiled at Armani. How could she not have noticed that I was being dragged to the backroom, which turned out to be another whole world of books?

I cleared my throat, embarrassed. "Would you be kind enough to untie my hands?"

"Why would I do that? You committed a crime and I arrested you. Think of that tie as handcuffs."

This was hilarious, how was she not laughing right now?

"Because my heels hurt, I need to take them off," I confessed. I had been in these for almost the entire day now, I wondered what time it was. She had confiscated my purse as well, guess I really was her prisoner.

"I will help you with that," she said and with no warning lifted my legs and placed them on her thighs. That pure white material would definitely be ruined with the dirt from my shoes.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you."

"I said, untie me. Not, take off my shoes...ouch, you're hurting me!" I screamed when she pulled the right shoe and took it off.

"I know." With the same motion, she pulled the other one.

"That really hurts, you know." Sarcasm was all I wanted to deliver.

"Your feet are swollen." She placed her palms on my feet and shockingly started massaging them. "And they stink."

Ugh, fuck.

##
Armani is mean, period!