????? ?? ??????

To my great surprise, they lead me out to the hallway. As we go up the stairs, the lighting gets better and I scan the two men escorting me.

The one who shot Aaron has a long scar on the left side of his face—an old knife wound maybe—stretching from underneath the outer edge of his left eye down to the side of his lips.

The tattoo sleeve covering his right arm has a gigantic phoenix in the middle of it, the name of their mafia, Fenice. Swirls of fire are tattooed around it. The fire stretches down to his elbow, cards, four dice, and casino tokens reach to the back of his hand, ending with a cross, reaching his middle finger's knuckle.

His black hair is buzz cut and his skin is dark, the defined muscles flex with each movement. He's a huge guy, perhaps over six inches taller than my overly average height of five foot four inches.

Unlike his boss, even his movements contain a certain amount of roughness. The way his heavy footfalls pound against the marble stairs, how he holds his arms apart from his body, with stiff shoulders, is like he's preparing himself to walk into a WWE ring.

On the other hand, his fellow partner is way skinnier than him. His hair is light brown and his eyes are hazel, his skin is a lighter tone too. Small tattoos are dotted around his forearms. Compared to the other guy, the way he carries himself is almost like a lanky gauche teenager.

Down a long hallway, they stop in front of the third door. The bulkier one opens the door for me while the other one steps aside, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Boss will put two men 'ere." He motions with his hand, pointing to either side of the door. "No funnny businesssa." He shoots a sideways glare at me and I roll my eyes. "You want to mit the bosss, you tell the two mena."

I nod and cross my arms. "Am I allowed to know in which country or city I am right now?"

From the corner of my eye, I catch the bulkier one subtly shaking his head. Huffing, I walk past him and enter the moderate-sized room. He slams the door shut behind me.

I sigh, staying rooted to the spot as I pinch the bridge of my nose before surveying the place.

A queen-sized bed is placed across from me, with yellow and gray bed sheets, and a leather bag resting on top of it. The walls are white and bare. On the nightstands placed on either side of the bed, similar vases are set with yellow flowers I can't recognize.

On my right, a narrow window is covered with a thick curtain and a few paces away from me a wooden drawer is placed, with three empty red bottle-like glasses planted on top of it.

The other side of the room has an empty wardrobe with its door ajar. The other door must lead to the bathroom.

I scrutinize the ceiling, and every angle in the view, checking if they've placed cameras. So far, I can't spot any.