Our Little Secret

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"Do you ever go out in less than three layers?" "Nope," Nicoli answered bluntly. She wasn't the first person to think it crazy that he was always seen in this attire. There were more casual styles of clothing in his closet, but they were neglected. He didn't feel like himself if he didn't dress up like this. It's how he had to look since he was a kid.

She had a lot to say, as usual. At least she put forth the effort to speak at a pace he could understand better. She was desperate for a safe place to stay. If his face wasn't used to being so neutral, he would be giving her a look right now. When he thought it over though, it made sense that she would take it this far. People didn't make the basic needs of survival easy to achieve, out of spite for this woman. How cruel human beings could be.

Even if Sasha claimed to be the most amazing chef with superb cleaning skills, he wouldn't allow her to do any of that. Nicoli cleaned his own house, only he knew where everything belonged. She seemed to want to be able to give something in exchange, though. He could see how that would be important to someone. Giving up her body, though? That wasn't something he could accept from her. That just might make her life more miserable, something he would prefer to avoid...

"You can stay." That wasn't given too much pondering. He was already going to let her be here for as long as necessary. The police probably didn't find much in the way of evidence. Sasha would be reported as missing, and they'd do some searching, but for how long? She had her concerned brother, so maybe the search would keep going. Otherwise, she wasn't important enough for the investigators to keep trying, sad as it was to think. "When you see the cops, you should just tell them what happened. Some crooks showed up at your door, beat you up, and took you away. Instead of talking about how you witnessed my meeting with Rodrigo, just say you managed to get away. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think they'll delve too deep into the details of this. Even if you told them what those thugs looked like, they'd search until they realized they're not even in this country anymore."

Nicoli didn't know if that would he helpful to her or not. That's just what he'd do in her situation. "If they make the connection to me, I'll handle it. The police know me, they know some of the things I've done. But they also know I can't be caged. I won't let you get caged either, if for some reason it comes to that. Some of the staff there owe me favors too, so." He shrugged. Obviously he was more in control than one would guess.

Now was the issue of her...'offer'. His right hand went to scratch at the back of his head as images and words raced through his head. The hand slapped against his leg when he finished his thought. "I can't use you like that, Sasha," Nic decided to say, giving his head a slow shake. He might agree to that offer if she were someone else, someone who didn't mean much to him. It was bothering him that he had a growing fondness for this lady. "You do tempt me, of course. I would say 'Sasha, go to my bed and wait for me'..." he continued on, the deepening bass of his voice giving way to his dominant nature. There was a twinkle of mischief that lit up his frigid stare, too. "...so I could relieve you with my tongue until your worries melted away." A low chuckle rumbled in his chest; he could be a tease at times himself. "But, I've no desire to make you do anything. I want you to do what you want, so as long as you clean up after yourself and don't contact anybody for a while. I want to help you simply because I like you. If that's not reason enough, well, no one's going to force you to stay here." Nicoli really did think she was a nice girl. He did enjoy her company at her her work, it was just impossible to tell. He saw no reason for him to take anything from her.
 

Of course he was always dressed up... Not that she really minded- he pulled the look off damned well.

And then he had answered her, and she managed a small smile. Ok, so what was the.... He was actually telling her what to do with the cops. Useful. And of course he could slip out of the police's grasp.

He turned her down- and the confusion was probably all over her face. Seriously? Without that on the table, he was doing this all without anything in return...

And then he was speaking again and suddenly her face was hot and her cheeks were prominently red. He didn't just say that... did he? That wasn't just a daydream?

"H-hey." She managed to squeak out, completely flustered. "Dinner first." She managed to quip then rubbed at her face, trying to get her cheeks to stop giving Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer a run for his money. She would be lying if she had said that his words hadn't effected her- oh they had, and she was really glad that she wasn't the one with the equipment downstairs that made it horrendously obvious that she was turned on.

No, instead she was standing there, unsure of what to do, completely at odds with herself. Was that him just teasing or....

She barely could pay attention to anything else he said and she still had a hand raised- rubbing at her face still.

"Fuck, Nico." She muttered. "There's teasing... and then there's that. I think I need to take another shower. Cold. Ice cold. Fuckin' hell, man." She added, looking to him. She was amused- she had to admit it. She didn't expect this at all. None of this.

"I don't have anyone to contact- and I have my phone turned off and my SIM chip out of my phone. Don't want to be found or contacted. You're pretty much the only one I want knowing that I exist right now." She finally managed to respond to what he had said after that statement. She was fairly certain she had finally stopped blushing and lowered her hand, still looking rather out of it.

When was the last time someone said something of that nature to her? Actually it had been some time.... not to say that she hadn't had sexual encounters- they just weren't...

"It's not fair that you said that- in a suit... That's practically men's version of lingerie... Dammit." She muttered and then turned away from him as she tried to get her thoughts together. It wasn't very successful.

"S-so.... I asked for dinner.... we have time still and- I swear if you make another lewd comment, you're taking responsibility." She cut herself off with the threat, maybe showing her cards a bit too much. Great. Now he knew she was frazzled.

"Tease me and I'll give you one hell of a haircut- they'll have to put you in jail for murder." She threatened lightly. "Then again... I did already give you consent to pretty much do with my dead body as you wish last night.... ergh." She segued into a little humor, trying to get herself focused and not thinking with the part of her body that wanted nothing more than to just throw off her clothes.

"What... do you want to do? Did you have anything planned for today before I got myself involved?" She asked softly.
 
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Well, it was good to see that his smooth talking hadn't gotten rusty.

This whole display that was a flustered Sasha was just too much. Nicoli couldn't believe how adorable she was. The red in her face was such a loud message as to how much he stirred her feelings just then. She was struggling to stay on the more important topic, no thanks to how flustered she was. Needless to say, this made him feel smug.

While she had her back turned, he let his lips twitch into a devilish smirk. "Now you know why I wear suits, eh?" he joked. That of course wasn't the real reason he dressed like this. However, the effect this look had on people wasn't lost on him. Knowing that she was so allured by it, though... Seducing her further would take some resisting.

Nicoli was unmoved by her threats. She could mess up his hair, then he'd pay a good amount of money to have a suitable wig made for him. That would be worth going through just to get her flustered again. "I'll be on my best behavior." The words were spoken with an absence of emotion, making it impossible to tell if he was kidding or being serious. "I'll have your dead body another time." That seemed to be a reoccurring joke.

She reminded him about the food they owed. It was more like lunchtime at the moment, but that didn't mean they couldn't eat. There was just the matter of where to go. Nicoli didn't do a lot of eating out. It would be a treat to himself now and then, otherwise he went to them for dinner parties and meetings. He knew of a pretty nice little place they could go, though. "Honestly, I want as few plans as possible." Surely, she'd understand why. "If you're hungry, we can go. I know a restaurant we can go to where you won't look out of place. Good seafood, too." He was referring to her outfit. Not something you'd wear to a fancy joint. Mostly though, he didn't want her feeling uncomfortable wherever they went. Otherwise, he'd just make crab legs for her here at the house. It wasn't anything new as far as his recipe experience went. "That is, if you don't have other things to do, yourself." Nic wasn't sure if she'd want to go to her apartment after all, or to someplace he could buy her some toothbrush and clothes that fit. She couldn't just use his t-shirts all the time, right?
 
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That smug bastard!

She had to resist the urge to say "Fuck you" or something that could easily backfire on her, but with how mischievous he looked at that moment, she really wanted to say something at least. Nothing was coming to her, though. His comment about being on his best behavior was hard to read, and she wanted to say that he was being an ass... but gah...

The joke about her dead body really was getting over-used... kinda like kicking a dead horse. Heh.

His comment about a place to go had, given her attire suddenly drew her attention. Oh god no...

"I... didn't pack a change of clothes when I jumped out of the window." She murmured softly, joking, but her heart wasn't in it. She just realized just how odd it was for Nico to see her outside of work- she spent quite a deal of money to make herself look like she wasn't in a shitheap apartment and struggling to pay rent. What she was wearing now was comfort clothes.

Big difference.

"Yeah, I guess that lunch sounds ok..." She was still trying to cover her embarrassment and then at his mention of if she had anything to do, she gave him a bit of a look.

"The only thing I'd have to do today is work... and then probably get Britney drunk enough to try and push her off on some guy at the bar. That's literally all I might have had on the books before all this happened. That and try and cook something nice for my landlord, since rent's gonna be late- at the very least, my shitty cooking might be threat enough not to evict me." She spoke softly.

"I probably should stop by my apartment though.... Really don't want to... but I need a few things... and my dyes- maybe I'll just dye your hair hot pink while you sleep." She teased. "You always seem moments away from falling asleep when your head's in my hands anyways, would you really be able to wake up and stop me?" She added before sighing. "Yeah... Guess I have to face the crime scene." She said, looking to him.

"I... Really don't want you to see where I live- pretty sure you'd laugh." She admitted, looking away.
 
The plans she had for today weren't envied by him. Nicoli was a traditional weekend lover; he couldn't imagine having to work on a Sunday. With the exception of his mobster business, of course. Some Sunday nights were spent doing deals or torturing people who ran out of chances to pay back his money. If you were making him come out on a Sunday, it was a bad day for you.

In addition to that, being around that Britney girl... He couldn't stand her in her work environment, he doubted he could stand her outside of it too. "That all sounds important. You should take care of what you can while it's still early in the day." That was just his suggestion, it was up to her when she'd want to go out and tackle these challenges. "If you'll allow it, I can pay your rent. Consider it one less thing for us to worry about, hm?" Whatever the price was, it probably wouldn't have any effect on the amount in his bank. Otherwise, if she really wanted to try that dinner thing...

Dying his hair pink... Nocoli did not know how he felt about that. Probably, he'd be annoyed by it. And he'd want to get her back, somehow. A prank war could turn ugly after a while though. Hopefully she really was just kidding around.

Nico was now looking at her with a quizzical expression. How would he find it humorous that she lived in...wherever she lived. "I don't laugh," he then told her with a grunt. That was as true as it was grouchy. "I understand, though, if you're wanting to get things done by yourself. I could give you something to carry with you, if it would help you feel safer." She was afraid to go out, which he wanted to help fix. He wasn't going to hand her a gun, but he did have a wide selection of pocket sized knives to pick from. "Tell me what you need transportation-wise, too. Unless you intend to just walk the whole way. Which I wouldn't recommend." His eyes gave attention to the thigh he had to pull a huge piece of glass out of. At the very least, he could give her bus money, or he could drive her to a certain point and pick her back up at a given time. For reasons he didn't understand, all he wanted to do was help this girl.
 
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She was surprised by his reactions, truth be told.

"You kidding me? I ain't doing any of that shit. Besides the apartment shit. I promised Britney a drink sometime soon- I never leave a definite time because of situations like this. The less socialization I have, the better.... You're not included in that. I like talking with you." She started, then looked up at him as he offered to pay her rent, eyes wide as saucers. "That would help, but... I couldn't think to ask that of you."

His comment on not laughing had her confused. "I... live in a shitty appartment complex- my place would fit in this room... entirely. And the place is falling apart." She explained softly. "I don't see why it's humorous either, but apparently poverty is goddamned hilarious to some people." She added, then looked at the ground. No, she really wanted him to come with, that was pretty damned obvious in her mind. On her own, she got kidnapped. Plenty of bravado, no idea what to do to defend herself.

"I... am pretty sure that if you gave me anything to keep with me, I'd accidentally hurt myself." she stated weakly, a small chuckle coming from her.

Fuck it, just say it.

"I... I want you to come with... me. I really don't want to go back alone." She admitted. "I wanna drop by my place... and get lunch." She decided. "And maybe learn a bit more about you? Sorry but, you're still prime discussion material until I get over the fact that they kidnapped me -your hairdresser- to get at you, and you paid the price, and you're still carin' for my ass." She stated, looking up at him. "Hey, we could always go back to talking about you needing to get laid." She remarked with a smirk. She was trying to create levity, but that backfired slightly as she remember the teasing words he had said moments ago.

"I'd also really like if you... taught me... y'know... a bit about how to defend myself... if I ever find myself facing two idiots at my door again." She asked quietly, biting her lip before looking around.

"Question- don't you ever feel lonelier in this place? It's so big... I'd feel lonely if I had a house party in this place... sheesh." She murmured before looking up at him "I promise I'll never throw a kegger here. The only person I would want to party with is..." She paused, thinking before she realized the only person. "You."

"You're honestly the first person that I'd actually choose to socialize with... Huh." She mused before shrugging. "Whatever, you're attractive, rich, bad-boy history, know first-aid....and you wear a suit.... most importantly, you can cook bacon...I don't think anyone would fault me for wanting to hang out with someone like that." She listed off, grinning at him. Yes, Bacon was that important to her. "Really good bacon." She added, almost looking like she was in the middle of a wet dream. Over food.

"Ok, ok. Let's get shit done so we don't have to worry about it anymore- I feel naked without my hair being all vibrant and my make-up." She stated as she grabbed onto Nico's hand, pulling him towards where she thought the front door was... then realized she had no idea where she was going. "Uh.... You lead." She spoke as she grinned up at him. She was in a good mood at least.
 
When she finally asked for his help, he felt relieved. Figuring out what she wanted was proving to be difficult. She talked a lot... By spending enough time with her though, he'd learn how to translate her, so to speak. It wasn't all Sasha's fault, of course. This was a test to his social skills, which were at a beginner level in this case.

The plan was to go to her apartment, then have food. Seemed simple enough. There were other topics to address, unsurprisingly to him. "When your leg's doing better, I could show you a thing or two." He wasn't going to deny her any lessons on self defense. Everyone should know what to do in that bad of an emergency. Sometimes, you just have to hurt some fool who's trying to get in your personal space.

Nicoli took a look around from where he was standing, since she was on the subject of how large this place was. "It can be lonely sometimes, but... Most of the time, I don't mind it. I eventually learned how to enjoy being alone." A party was never had here. Special events were arranged in luxiurious private locations that you could get into only with an invitation in hand. Never did he consider that his penthouse apartment could be a gathering space. Not that he wanted a bunch of people here in his territory... A private party of two with Sasha, though? He'd be up for that.

Her hand grasping his made him tense at first. It happened without warning, and it was new, he wouldn't lie. Hand holding happened only the few, rare times he sees his extended family members in Italy. When she was pulling them the wrong way though, he dismissed that awkwardness fairly quickly. "This way," Nico instructed simply, tugging them in the direction that would get them to his front door. Now that he got past his weirdness, he made note of how small her hands were by comparison. They were soft, too. That's all he could think about while he got them past the door, locked it, and led them down the stairs to the bottom floor.

"The last time I got laid was Valentine's Day," Nic brought up with a light playfulness in his voice. They arrived at the garage where he had three cars. A backup for his main one, and a backup for the backup. That's literally the reason why he had three. "So it's been eight months. I guess I'd understand if you were to laugh at me." He raised his brows and got the passenger car door opened for her, and pondered on this realization he just made out loud. Well, at least she had her answer now. Sasha was growing on him, and he liked being able to make her smile. Seeing her face light up gave him warm feelings that he was curious to explore some more.

Once she was inside, he got into his seat so they could start the drive to their house. She would need to tell him how to get there, though...
 
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"Well then..." Sasha started in response to him telling her the last time he got laid. "I'm jealous. Halloween, last year..." She spoke softly, looking to him as she realized how rough and big his hand felt entwined with hers. "So, no, I can't laugh at you." She muttered with a smile. "It was bad, too, I fell asleep in the middle of it." She laughed softly, "I was really drunk, the guy was probably more blotto than I was. It was really bad." She couldn't help it, she was laughing. Then she trailed off, remembering the rest of that night, her face grew ashen and pale before she shook her head of the thoughts. She watched as he opened the door for her and she got in, waiting for him to get into the driver's seat.

Once he was in, she quickly fired off her address to him, quickly due to anxiety, then repeated herself a little slower. "Sorry... Only had two people see where I live... little skittish of people seeing where I live now. More skittish of going back alone." She admitted, then looked to him when he started driving.

"So what all do you do? Do you have a day job? What kindsa stuff do you do? Why were you getting guns from Rod.... Rod... That dude? Are you part of the mafia? Er... one of the mafias? You had a lot of scars on your chest- what happened to you? What's the worst scar you've gotten? What did you want to be when you were a kid?" She asked, firing off question after question, not quickly, but steadily, as soon as he'd answer one, she'd immediately ask another question. She was starting to get the hang of Nico- talk slow if you need to talk a lot. Repeat things. Try not to say too much at once.

"What's your family like?" She couldn't help but ask. Family had always been important to her, and she was still dealing with the whiplash of suddenly not really having hers anymore.

She couldn't help but keep glancing at him, smiling slightly, enjoying being around someone that didn't cringe from her past, or look at her oddly when she said something fucked up.

"How'd you learn how to cook like that? I can never... Let's just say food poisoning is practically always a side effect when I cook..."
 
Nicoli was actually surprised to hear she'd gone that long without physical attention. Then again, he shouldn't be. When he found out she was single, he should have guessed that she wouldn't be sexually active. She was so cute and flirty, he spent so long assuming she had a boyfriend who made her happy. That happiness was just a cover-up, though. Her life was miserable. Nico was hopeful that he could help her turn that around.

He was patient with her while waiting for some directions. She was quick to correct herself, so there was no fuss. The car got started, he got them going the right way, and then... More questions.

Well now was as good a time as any. He sure as hell wasn't going to discuss these sorts of things in a public restaurant. Anyone could be eavesdropping!

"Yes... I'm what you'd call a 'boss.' I own Zangria Finances. Big building, I'm sure you've seen it. That's where the majority of my transactions take place. People need money, they come borrow it from me. As you've seen, I sometimes sell guns too. My inventory varies, because I only make deals that I know I can make a big profit off of. My focus is just cold hard cash, you know?" Explaining his business came so naturally, flowing with the passion he had for his work. He had to, seeing how it's what controlled his life. "Sometimes I have to go of campus, so to speak. Take care of the people who run out of extra chances, make sales, things like that. What I do comes with a long list of responsibilities." There was so much more he could tell her, but that was good enough for now. It was the basics, easy to understand. He thought so, anyway.

"My scars each come with its own story, so you may have to wait on that. I've been tortured, I've been marked for death. The worst one is the one slash mark on my leg. Even though I was almost shot in the heart, that damn leg of mine brought me months of misery." These weren't fond memories to be digging back up. He grunted while turning a corner. They were almost to her place, thank the lord.

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist. I also wanted to be a mafia boss. So I became both." Nicoli was keeping his eyes peeled for anything that might look like a crime scene, or maybe a blocked off section of road? He wasn't there for the kidnapping scene, so he didn't fully know what to expect. "My mom and dad are dead," he said quietly, quick to jump to the next part of his answer. "I have a couple of aunts and uncles, a few grandparents still alive, cousins... We don't talk much because of the distance, or because a lot of them hate me. But, eh, that's mia famiglia. I love them still. Some of them hate me just because it's trendy." It didn't bother him that a huge number of his extended family had negative opinions of him. They hated his father, and his grandfather--the whole line of men who led the Zangria 'business'. There were others who didn't care, fortunately. "Cooking's been a hobby of mine for years. I read the books, I also experiment a lot in the kitchen. Supposedly I have an impressive palette.

Coming up on your place," he said with relief. Maybe he'd get a break from questions. They were learning a lot about each other in only a couple of days. It was over whelming, but an intriguing journey so far. He never knew that a young miss such as Sasha had so much to teach him.
 
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Sasha listened quietly as Nico explained every answer to her questions, her eyes focused on his face, watching him carefully.

When he talked about his family, she found a sick sense of satisfaction that she wasn't alone- she felt horrible about it. Then on to happier subjects, she was curious about listening to him talk about cooking- it explained a lot...

And then they were there.

She almost wanted to sink down in her seat. The complex was gated, but the gate was obviously broken, with a rusted chain holding it in place. From the entrance, it was easy to see why someone might not be proud to have anyone visit. It was an older complex, falling apart a bit here and there. Peeling paint, missing bricks, buckled planks, boarded-up windows, and graffiti were prevalent. Kids ran around the complex through the parking lots, not even caring to look to see Nico's car.

She guided him through- having him turn left at the end of the passage and as soon as they rounded the corner there was a cordoned-off portion of the parking lot, bloodstains and glass still there, undisturbed, police tape slightly fluttered around it. Sasha looked up and saw the mess that was supposed to be her window. She had not just fallen from two stories- her building had been up on a bit of a hill, so that had added to the height she had fallen from. She hadn't accounted for that.

".... I realize now that.... that was really stupid." She mentioned of it, then sighed. Ok, she could do this.

"Ok... Ok... Park here- it's daytime, I doubt there's a big chance someone would try to touch your car at this point." She remarked, cringing at how this made the place sound. "Ok... follow me..." She murmured, feeling very much like this was a walk of shame that was about to happen. She led the way back through the courtyard of yellowing grass, wrappers and trash littered the place and she was walking fast ahead of Nico, wanting this all to be over as quickly as possible.

Her particular apartment appeared to have been quite a target- warn bullet holes on the door frame, a board covering one of her windows. No key, no problem- she unscrewed the dome off of the light fixture between her and her neighbor's house, picking out her spare key, then screwed the bulb back on before unlocking the door, holding it open for Nico before entering. The place smelled sour and Sasha grinned darkly at him, pointing to the ceiling, where a big black mass of mold resided. "As I said, shit heap." She stated with a chuckle. The living room of the place was tiny, and just having furniture made it feel cramped. The carpet was dingy and dirty. There was room for a couch and a loveseat. The kitchen lay in the back, mostly shrouded in shadow. Sasha lead him into the connecting bedroom- which contained exactly one bed, a small desk, a shitty laptop, a calendar on the wall, a mirror, and a closet that hung open with clothing hanging out of it like entrails. There was a window by her bed, and a chair that lay on it's side near by it. A breeze came in through the window.

"Someone's been in here..." She mentioned, unperturbed, then went over to her bathroom, grabbing a small makeup bag, filling it with what was needed, threw that in a nearby dufflebag, then went about grabbing toiletries and her dyes as well as everything she might need for hair emergencies, putting them all in their own bags before stuffing a few articles of clothing into her bag before going into the closet- motioning for Nico to wait. In a few moments, she came back out in a slightly more presentable black dress that struck her around mid-calf, slinky fabric that clung to her frame easily. She grabbed a few more things here and there, and a purse from the floor- a calendar hung on the wall- x's marked through the days with one circled at the end of this month, only a few days from now, an "M" and a "$" in the middle of the circle, with "fuck" written off to the side. The mirror's frame was adorned with pictures- family members probably, young kids and maybe what appeared to be her brother and parents.

"Ok... Got what I needed." She spoke softly as she led him back out, almost free when her neighbor's door opened. She motioned for Nico to stay back, unseen in her apartment. An older woman in just a robe and shorts came into view, robe hanging open enough to see she wasn't wearing a shirt or a bra underneath- at least the robe covered mostly everything.

Fuck.

"Oh honey, where have you been? The cops were looking for you."

"Long story. Really long story." She managed. "Look, I'll tell you all about it later, ok? Kinda busy right now." She added and the woman seemed to ponder that for a moment.

"You're not back with that Mark fellow, are you?"

"No ma'am. Haven't run into him in a while."

"Make sure it stays that way, I don't want more bullet holes in the place, scaring the kids."

"Yeah... I know. I'm really sorry about that."

"It's not your fault. I get it. Restraining order never worked did it?"

"Couldn't even get it filed." She was rubbing her face now. Great. Fucking great.

"You be careful- I thought I saw him poking around the other day."

"I'm sure it wasn't him." Sasha asserted, her voice hard, edged.

"Ok, honey. You come over and play with the kids some time soon, ok?" The woman muttered before going back into her apartment. Sasha was rubbing her face again while she waited a moment, then motioned for Nico to exit. She locked up the apartment, put the spare key back in it's spot, then all but ran from the damned place, cheeks burning with shame. Great. Fabulous. She moved as quickly as she could to Nico's car, waiting for him with a nervous posture, holding her bags tightly to herself.

"I... I think I lost my appetite." She spoke as he approached. "Can we just go back to your place? Is that ok?" She asked quietly- everything about her attitude had changed in that conversation with her neighbor. She seemed meeker, quiet, timid even.
 
The apartment he was standing in was giving him the creeps. Management seemed to slack on maintenance. The temperature was uncomfortable, there was filth, the locks didn't look trustworthy... How was the landlord able to rent this horrible building out to people? The conditions were so god awful. What made it worse was that there were children living in some of these homes. Nico wanted to take a wrecking ball to this whole section of the neighborhood.

There was one sight that wasn't sore on his eyes, though. Sasha arrived with her belongings, and she was wearing a dress that definitely suited her tastes. In this depression environment, she certainly lit it up. Nicoli couldn't believe he was taking her to dinner. Since the moment she suggested it, he'd been dreading it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, though. She was proving to be pleasant company.

Before he could follow her out, he was told to stay back. That's when he got to hear more about Sasha's private life, from the mouth of a woman who looked as ugly as this apartment. Mark seemed to be a popular character... He could easily learn more, if he wanted to. A handful of his men were experts in gathering information.

He was eager to get back to the car. Nico was walking with calm footsteps, but inside he was freaking out. Shasha's door was opened so she could get inside. Her door was closed and he was quick to get around to the driver side! A relieved breath fell from his lips once he got seated in the car. Sasha shouldn't be allowed to go back in there. He'd write a check for her rent and then insist she never goes back.

Nic could see that her good mood was being spoiled by that unpleasant experience upstairs. "We should still go." He talked while he got them backed out of the parking lot, then on the road to the restaurant he had in mind. "If you still don't feel like sitting down, we'll get a to-go order. One way or another, you're getting your food." He seemed determined to see this promise through to the end.

Perhaps he could try to cheer her up some. Hopefully it wouldn't get him yelled at. Dirty talk and business talk were his specialities, apparently. All the rest was disastrous. "You look very nice, Sasha. If I spent more than a few seconds stealing glances at you, I might kill us both in a car crash." His eyes kept flicking over to get glimpses of the lovely girl, but he stopped before it got too painful for his eyeballs.

The car pulled up to a nice looking little place that looked out at the water. There were quite a few different diners in this area, but this was the one he was most familiar with. They sold a wide variety of delicious seafood dishes, including the crab legs she sought. Sometimes there were formal looking customers, sometimes average looking ones. They'd fit in just fine. With his status too, he could get them the best table. That is, if she wanted to sit down and eat anymore. All he cared about was getting something in his stomach.

The vehicle was put in park, then he unbuckled and looked to her. "So what's it going to be?"
 
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As soon as she got into the car, she was quiet. Nico's reaction said everything she needed to know. This was a mistake. Stupid... stupid, stupid, stupid! At the very least, she could have just let him wait in the car, but no, she had the brilliant idea of taking him in there!

There was a lump in her throat, she was still ashamed and nervous. She literally could not afford any other place to live, this was the best she had available- the only other option she had was living out of her car- something she wasn't fond of trying again.

He seriously still wanted to take her out and something about that conflicted her greatly- on one hand, all she wanted to do was go back to Nico's place, hole up in his bedroom and never leave... maybe for food though... when she'd get really hungry. He could probably lure her out with bacon every once in a while.

On the other hand, she did want to go out with him- food always cheered her up- and he really seemed sincere about getting her that meal. Honestly it did make her feel a little better.

Her eyes flicked to him as he complimented her with a hint of that morbid humor that they both seemed to have an appreciation for. She smiled slightly at that and managed the tiniest noise that was supposed to be a laugh.

She barely realized when they were at the place- she looked up and then at Nico, looking about as baffled as he had when she had originally asked him for dinner. Seriously? The place was cute ad looked... honestly kinda date-ish... wait... wasn't that kinda what they were having? In a sense?... no... She might have been rusty to coupling rituals, but she hadn't asked for a date, she had asked for a specific type of food that normally was served in places of slightly higher caliber... and shitty franchise restaurants. Sometimes those places coincided with great date locations. Why did it even matter if it was a date?

Her thoughts were swirling in her head for a bit before she finally looked up at Nico and managed a tiny smile. "I... I guess I'm hungry enough to eat here." She murmured softly, her voice still warbling with hints of shame and sadness. It was all she could manage to say. For someone talkative like Sasha, it almost hurt to be quiet, but right now, it's all she wanted.

"Sorry you had to see that..." She managed to murmur of the apartment complex. "I told you it was bad." She added, not even able to look at him. "That's why I didn't want you to see where I lived, I should have known better." She wasn't crying, but her chest was heaving, her breathing was irregular and stuttered, and she was trembling- she was fighting hard to recover swiftly, but it took a few seconds.

"I... I'm ok." She whimpered out, her breathing normal and her posture was brought out of the instinctive hunch she got into when emotional.
 
She looked to be ashamed of her living space. The situation wasn't all her fault, though. That was probably her best option when it came to shelter, or a cardboard box. No one should have to deal with either of those conditions though. Not unless they did something to deserve it.

"Yes, it was bad," he agreed, standing by until she was composed enough to keep walking to the doors. "You don't have to go back there." Sasha deserved better than those nosy neighbors and sickly living conditions. There was enough room in his house that she really could move in, and he'd barely notice she was there. There were actually two rooms that didn't have any use. Otherwise, he considered just moving her into a little house in a nicer neighborhood. All he knew how to do is throw money at problems... He had a feeling she needed more than just money from him, though.

This unanswered question had to be saved for later. She was fixing her posture and wearing a brave face. Nic walked alongside her with his arm offered, like a proper gentleman would do. They didn't have to wait long to be seated, either. His recognizable face and hairstyle got them to a table in no time, beside a window that gave a breathtaking view of the water. Menus were set in front of them, along with fresh glasses of water. Their server returned shortly after, wanting to give them time to look over the available lunches.

"Have whatever you want." Nicoli really meant whatever she wanted. The bill would be of no concern to him. So then his face disappeared behind a menu so he could tell the server what he wanted. Sasha's obsession with getting crab legs made him crave some as well. He ordered a creamy pasta dish that had crab meat mixed in, with a glass of red wine on the side. The moment he was done ordering, his attention was turned to what was beyond the window. His silent way of telling the waiter to leave him alone until he had his food in hand. Sometimes they wanted to make small talk, something he wasn't at all interested in.
 
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Sasha was surprised by his answer, but left it at that. She didn't have to go back? Where the hell else would she go?

It's not like she could just stay with the man next to her- really, beyond their work relationship, she had only really known him for a day or two. And his willingness to help was noticed, but it was awkward to her- she had gone quite some time with someone just helping to help, and not because they got something in exchange.

She was having a hard time understanding it.

She took his arm and held her head high, trying to be her usual peppy self, but the second they entered the place, she recognized it... She knew this place. She knew it because it was a place she had tried to remember to avoid- but with how low her income had been as of the last few years, she had forgotten about places she should avoid- for fuck's sake, being poor was her saving grace.

And she was on Nico's arm. Might as well have a goddamned beacon attached to her- well this was going to be interesting.

Calm down, keep up the face, smile. They were guided to their seat, and then menus and water were set down.

The waiter had come back and Nico had said she could get whatever she wanted- she kept her head down, ordered crab legs and a glass of white wine. Something in the waiter's response- the way he had taken the order made her look up and at that point, her face dropped for a half-second. She made some kind of small noise in her throat and then immediately looked away, trying to focus on the window. Breathe. Just breathe. Maybe nothing will come of it.

She already knew how much of a lie that was in her head.

"I actually know this place." She spoke softly. Slowly. "I told you I used to be in a top notch place, right? I managed to get settled into a fashion show for Jean Paul Gaultier. I liked that job, funky designer, let me pretty much go hog-wild aside from some weird guidelines." Her wording was deliberate. Speak in an even tone, don't let on. She had never been there before, but she had seen pictures so she knew she was right. The fashion show wasn't a lie though, that was something she was proud of.

She made a small sweeping glance at the rest of the place, "Hasn't changed much from the last time I was here." She remarked. The comment was more to cover up the fact that she was keeping an eye on their waiter. A small part of her wanted to explain the situation to him- that they should leave- now in fact. But that would mean she would be leaving with him. She'd be seen leaving with him. That could end badly.

Gears were turning in her head, she was thinking on ideas. No, she didn't want Nico getting that dragged into her problems- honestly they were her own damned fault. This wasn't his business. This was hers. And also she was afraid of what might happen if he got actively involved in the situation- no, she knew, it would escalate too quickly.

She was quiet as she thought on what actions to take. She'd wait for food. Enjoy it, have a few moments of peace- then she'd have to find a way to untangle herself from him. Storming off in a huff over something stupid would probably work- he didn't follow her last night when she had thrown her fit of anger at him.

Guilt was already settling in her stomach as her plans came together.

The waiter was back quickly with the glasses of wine for them and the waiter dropped a pen from his front pocket, looking clumsy as he bent down to pick it up. But it was fucking intentional, and as he was out of sight and range of Nico, words were whispered and she made no sign of recognition that anything had passed. Mentally, she was on the verge of a panic attack. No, no, not here, not today. She'd managed to keep her distance from all that shit for a while now. This was all going to shit and there was nothing she could do about it except for to save Nico the trouble of being in the fallout of ground zero of this shitstorm.

There was a car waiting for her.

She calmly sipped from her wine as she tried to figure out what to say- something bad, she had to say something bad, something hurtful?... She didn't want to do this. But she felt like she had to- this wasn't Nico's problem, he wasn't the one that got mixed up in this bad business and made one too many bad choices. He was honestly the first person in a long time to be this nice to her... She didn't know how to react to that. Except that she knew that what she was going to have to do was going to fly in the face of everything she wanted.

The food came and she was still quiet, efficiently dealing with the exoskeleton of the crab and nibbling away at the meat she was prying from the legs with the tiny fork- normally the tiny forks served with crab legs made her laugh and giggle, but she was somber, quiet. She hoped Nico just pinned it on what happened at the apartment.

She knew better at this point than to try and tell him what was going on. The waiter's actions pretty much colored the situation- threat was in that sentence. If she didn't manage to get herself in the car, this would get worse and escalate. She knew well enough that there was no other choice at this point.

After getting half-way through her meal and drained her glass of wine, she looked up at Nico, heart sinking to the pit of her stomach as she prepared for what she was about to do. What she was setting up for already made her feel like shit.

She raised a fist to her lips, thinking before lowering it, knowing what to say. A loaded question that no matter how he answered it, she was confident that she could turn it into hell for him. It wasn't a question she was going to get away from scot-free either. This was going to hurt her a bit as well.

"Nico... What do you think of me?" She asked softly, quietly. Her blood was rushing in her ears and she was itching to just grab him, tell him something else, make a joke. Anything. Not this. "I need to know." She added, looking at him in earnest, face unreadable as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin.
 
Nicoli felt awkward in this 'date' they were having. How did it look to the surrounding customers? This man in his early thirties having a meal with this spunky hairstylist... It certainly didn't look like a business meeting, and she didn't match the look of his usual 'dates'. The lack of business related chatter only confirmed such suspicions, if they existed. Nico wasn't worried about his reputation so much. It was just that underneath his solid exterior, he was nervous to be here. Socializing with women already wasn't his strongest ability. In fact, he always paid his escorts to not talk. This restaurant setup made talking a scarier idea now more than ever.

Much to his surprise, there wasn't much conversation between them. She told him about this one time she was at this restaurant, then went silent. There was something amiss. That fact wasn't lost on him. There were small characteristics to Sasha that he'd already begun to memorize. This disturbance in the air was connected to her, somehow...

Nic kept on eating though, having a sip here and there of his wine so the flavors could mingle with the food. Even if there was something going on with her, he couldn't do anything about it. Outright asking would be inappropriate, especially after sour mood caused by the apartment situation. He wasn't nosy. Concerned, but not nosy.

The empty bowl with traces of sauce smeared inside was pushed away. He sat back, feeling satisfied with the choice he made. Right as he looked to the woman across the way, she was getting ready to say something. Something that he couldn't believe he was asking here, right now. All that silence built up to this? Was she really going to be that cruel? Was it a trap? All ten of his fingers tapped uneasily on the table, his powerful eyes questioning her timing with this inquiry while he searched his mind for a proper response. For all he knew, she might need to hear something to make her feel better. If that wasn't reason enough, she would eventually have lured him in with that look she was giving him.

"You...are...a really good hair cutter..." He started with. The slow way he talked was his own unique version of shyness, since it took worse problems than this to break his stoic expression. You could tell that he was mentally kicking himself, though. His digits abruptly stopped tapping to grip the table in frustration. "And, you're...fun." The short list was almost coming to an end, the flow of his speech improving steadily. "Also, uh, pretty. You'reverypretty." Nicoli cleared his throat and turned his head, keeping his back straight despite that there was a hint of pink to be seen in his cheeks. Seriously, what was that girl thinking? Putting him on the spot like that was just mean!

'This is going to backfire on me, isn't it?'
 
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Sasha listened to his reply, internally cringing. She could tell he was trying, and had this not been such a situation, she would have understood- even been overjoyed with that response.

But this was now, and she was going to have to make a size-able tear between them. Breathe. Just say it.

"You... seriously.... Nico, what the hell?" She spoke abruptly, eyes flashing with hurt, shaking her head before looking up at him again, angry and confused. "You can charm me out of my panties at the drop of a hat, but actually telling me how you feel about me is hard? Seriously? Do you like me? Beyond some fling or someone who trims up your hair?... Maybe it was a good idea not to take you up on that offer... You're my biggest worry right now." She muttered angrily.

'Nico, I am so so so sorry. Please just hate me. Please just get angry and stay down. I'm sorry.' She thought as she continued. "I don't understand.... You can be completely confident in so many other situations, but this knocks you off your game? Am I intimidating? Or is it because I'm not a classy bitch. That's it, isn't it? I'm sure you loved my place. Should have tossed in some cockroaches too, just so I could see you racing to get some hand-sanitizer." She hissed. "I'm sure it must have made you skin crawl to realize that your hairdresser comes from a fucking ghetto."

She slammed her hands on the table and stood up, shaking her head. "Fuck you, Nico. I'm sorry. Don't go looking for me, don't come back to the salon. Find someone else. Hell, have the new person call me, I'll teach them how to handle the stick up your ass and your aversion to general socialization." She fired off, then shook her head again, then threw her hands up and stormed off, heading for the entrance. Was she crying? Yeah, she was. God this was awful. She was sick to her stomach and vision was swimming as she exited the restaurant, immediately being grabbed and guided into a black SUV, the car started and took off the second she was in and the door was closed. They were speeding the hell out of the place, and she couldn't manage to care about anything.

"Mark's pissed. Start apologizing." The man in the front seat muttered, cuing up a phone-call from his blue-tooth. Fucking hell, give her a break. Just two moments. "Stop the car." She muttered softly as she covered her mouth.

"What?"

"Stop the car, I'm gonna throw up. Do you want it all over the seats or on the street?" She fired back and the car was stopped. They had already gone some distance already. She immediately crawled towards the door and opened it back up, leaning out and puked, shaking and trembling. 'Nico, I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry. Fucking hell.' She begged in her head as her head swam and she managed to tilt herself back into the car, hook the door with her foot and pull it closed before groaning.

"What the hell was that." The statement came out of the speakers and Sasha groaned again. Great, this made her feel worse.

"Mark, I'm sorry." She started as the car started moving again. She made no move to sit up or buckle herself in.

"Sorry for what? Making a mockery of me? Or cheating on me. I was looking for you- worried sick when I heard you were kidnapped."

She felt sick again, of course he still counted her as his property. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry-" She started, cut off quickly by a stream of cussing.

She was trembling and shaking. She had just left probably one of the nicest guys in her experience, in a restaurant after chewing him out for doing the best of his ability of saying what he thought she wanted to hear- and now she was getting chewed out by the biggest mistake of her life, which she affectionately refereed to in her head as "Stockholm syndrome".

"Take her to club. Back room." The order was hard, angry and the phone-call ended with that. Sasha cringed, tonight was going to be hell.

"Start texting him the rest of your apology. Quick. I'd really prefer not to cart out a dead body tonight." The driver instructed and she took out her phone from her purse, put the SIM chip back into it, turned it on and waited for it to be ready to text. She didn't even respond to the driver.

"You've been through this before. Haven't you." It was a statement of awe. New guy, probably.

"Yeah. Third time through the gauntlet." She muttered as the phone finally allowed her to access her contacts. "I don't think he'll kill me tonight. I'll probably wish I was dead though." She acknowledged softly.

"Why the hell were you out with a guy like that when you know Mark is-"

"Because Mark doesn't own me. Because I'm not his fucking girlfriend, or his goddamned pet." She fired off, clicking 'send' on the first simpering message full of apologies and pleading and begging. The fucker was getting off on this probably.

"Does he know that?"

"I've tried telling him. I've tried breaking up with him, I tried getting a restraining order- little hard when he's connected enough that I can't even get it to go through. If I die tonight, fine. At least I'm finally free of him." She spat angrily, clicking 'send' on the next set of apologies.

"Try not telling him that."

"What does it matter?" She snapped, curling up on the back seat, still working on another text, finally just giving up and dropping the phone. What was the use? She wanted to be back in that restaurant, joking and talking Nico's ear off. She wanted to be asking him too many questions and driving him crazy. Hell, she'd take him pulling five more pieces of glass out of her thighs than think about what she had said to him. She wanted to take it back. Least he didn't have to worry about this shit.

"We're here." The driver told her and she closed her eyes before taking a deep breath and pulled herself together. She could do this. Nico wouldn't have to get involved. She could handle this.

She exited the car and went in through the back entrance of the only club she'd ever hated and immediately went to the room on the right and sat down in the only chair available, under the brightest light imaginable, surrounded by the darkness of the rest of the room. She could hear the club music pounding through the walls. Old scars ached from the memories of this room. Never anything big- no, not on the women. Painful, yes, but never anything too obvious. He wanted to keep the women pretty. Her skin was crawling and she couldn't stop trembling.

What would Nico do in this situation? He'd probably just pinch the bridge of his nose and try and act tough. Tell everyone to fuck off...

Right?.... God, thinking of him hurt.
 
Sitting through all that was the greatest challenge to his temper yet. More than once time, he felt like getting up to tell her to hold her tongue, maybe toss one of the food scraps on her plate right at her face. Out of respect for Sasha though, he sat unmoving, taking the barrage of hurtful truths and insults. Nicoli should have known that telling her too much about himself would lead to this. She hated him now. He said something wrong again and it made her decisive about her feelings. Or she'd just gone completely insane. Was there something in that crab?

It didn't matter why she was making a scene, though. She stormed off, not to be seen again. People were quietly talking amongst themselves about the harsh events that transpired. As Nicoli stood up, they were quick to get back to their meals and conversation. His stance was aggressive looking; nobody wanted to trigger anything.

The escalating fury collected in his right fist, which came down on the bowl that once had his lunch in it. A mixture of sauce and blood was splattered on his hand, with broken pieces of the dish underneath. The restaurant was awkwardly silent as he fished out a pile of cash; more than enough to cover lunch, tip, and the cost of replacing what he broke. Nic left the restaurant with quick strides, anxious to drive himself home so he could unleash his anger at home.

Once he was locked in his penthouse, he raided his alcohol cabinet. Drinks were consumed in careless amounts while he yelled at the nothingness, trying to make sense of what Sasha had put him through. That woman toyed with his emotions, actually got him to care about her. He's risked so much just to keep her out of trouble. And she had the gall to disrespect him like that? Not to mention the ache that she'd caused his heart. Nicoli hated this. The pain was so intense that it made him feel sick.

All of that negative energy had to go somewhere. For longer than he cared to keep track of, he spent time in his personal gym, using the anger as fuel to lift weights, run, and do push-ups. At the end of that, he had more to drink and passed out on his bed.

----

Nicoli had to take an extra day off. All the days following that, he was busy at work. The only one who noticed something was off was Arturo. Every so often, he'd pull the boss aside so he could try to get some information out of him. Nothing, though. Nothing at all. Nicoli wouldn't deny his second-in-command the truth that there was something going on, but he wasn't willing to discuss it. From that point on, he wasn't asked again.

Every three weeks is when Nicoli would get his haircut. The salon he frequented said that Sasha didn't even work there anymore when he called to ask about her. Not to get an appointment; she told him not to come back for that. Mostly, he just wanted to know if she was still working.

This meant he had to see someone else. He ended up going to this newer place, suggested by one of the ladies who worked at his company. Trusting her was not a good decision to make... The woman who did his hair didn't seem to care about her job at all. She was lazy, talked only a little bit, easily distracted by the background music. The whole look was uneven. She didn't follow his instructions very well at all, or maybe he wasn't good at describing his own haircut. Long story short: she didn't get paid and he got banned from that salon.

Two days after that, it became more obvious that he was falling apart. The dark circles around his eyes were a symptom of sleep deprivation. He wore the same suit a few days at a time, and slept in it. There was a severe lack of nutrition in his diet lately, too. He looked weaker. Instead of intimidating, he just looked melancholy and empty. All except for the spine chilling glare he had, radiating with a hatred that made him unapproachable.

Somewhere in his closet, Sasha's things were buried under some socks. She never tried to get anything back. For a while there, he was hopeful that she'd show up at his door to talk and get her things back. Not a single word from her, though.

Miserable haircut and all, Nicoli trekked along a sidewalk through the downtown area. He had on a charcoal colored overcoat, with a grey scarf, both to shield him from the bitter cold of autumn. His head was sunk down into the collar of his coat, menacing eyes watching the scenery pass while he carried some dry cleaning in his gloved hands. Normally he'd drive, but lately he'd taken up walks to help him with his depression. Nicoli made efforts to be productive, rather than sulk and waste away. She spun his life out of control, but he was going to get the reigns back into his hands or die trying.
 
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Sasha was lost, unable to go home, don't even think of Nico's place.

Don't think of him at all. Thinking of him only hurt and made her hate herself.

She had spent the first of the last few weeks recovering from that night where she was explicitly taught who it was she belong to. Complete with cigarette burns, hickies, and anything within reach that would leave marks in places she could hide. Never once had she answered Mark on why she was with someone else, and who he was- honestly with how powerful Nico seemed, she was surprised he wasn't more well-known. Either that or Mark was stupid. She was banking on the second choice.

She had to quit her job- That was fun. Went in there, told the boss she wasn't allowed to work with Nico- phrased exactly that way, and after a few moments of gentle probing- Sasha had just exploded at him, yelling at him to go fuck himself.

The next few weeks were spent under a haze of alcohol and weed and maybe a few other things- she didn't care what she had in her system and she didn't fucking care. She was constantly sick and throwing up from the booze, and nothing tasted right. She didn't have the ability to push herself to eat enough, anyways.

Finally after all that, she was allowed out- on the condition that she wore a tracking anklet. If she went back home, or anywhere that wasn't on designated locations, her ass was on the line. It was currently hidden under her jeans. She had been sent out on a small run- just a small test of her loyalty to see if she'd run or not. Just deliver some ecstasy to some idiots that were throwing a party later. It wasn't like she had anywhere to run to. Mark won, he got what she wanted. She was all his. Fucking bastard was smug about it too. They fought. Constantly. She was wearing a blue tank top and a shredded up old coat and a scarf that was fifty shades of offensive lime-green. Her clothes obviously weren't over there and she had slim pickings.

Her cheek still ached from the slap Mark gave her earlier during their most recent fight. Least he had graciously allowed her to re-do her hair.

Still, everything ached and she was unable to focus on what she was doing, where she was going.

That was when she saw him on the other side of the street- the hair was all wrong, but she knew it was him. It couldn't be anyone else, no one would wear those shoes and... the excitement that coursed through her system was so welcome and invigorating- she felt alive again.... until she remembered everything she had said to him.

That memory was kicking her ass. More so than the abuse she had been suffering. Still, she had to fix this. Fuck the anklet, fuck Mark. Nico looked terrible, and... honestly, it would at least make her feel better to get near him, even if all it was, was to get cursed at or thrown or anything.

She crossed at the crosswalk and caught up to him, unsure of how to approach him, she followed at a distance for a bit, then finally gathered up the courage to tap him on the shoulder gently.

"Your hair looks terrible. I'll fix it. I won't say anything and you don't need to talk, like old times, you won't need to pay me." She spoke softly. "Pick a place to do it- not at your house. Not at mine. I'll get what I need and meet you there." The ground-rules were set and it was entirely up to Nico if he wanted to even talk to her. Even like this, he still had a pretty damned handsome look about him- fucked up hair-cut and all. Fuck the anklet. Just as long as they weren't at Nico's place or at hers, she could spin this. She'd still get her ass chewed out and a few more bumps and bruises and burns added to the mix, but it was worth it. She knew there was a beauty store on this street and she could easily grab what she needed.

"Please, let me fix it." She repeated. She was trying hard not to loose her composure. She wanted so badly to hug him, tell him what was going on, apologize for everything she said. She couldn't- and she didn't deserve to.

Sasha looked up at him, committing every little hair and inch of skin to memory, like it might be the last time she'd see him. Just this was enough, even, just being able to see him. It made her feel just a little better.
 
The tap to the shoulder made Nico freeze up, his body spinning instantly so his eyes could meet with the person who dared to bother him. To his surprise, he was looking down at none other than Sasha, who didn't look to be doing any better than him. The only lively trait to her was the new hairdo.

Nicoli detested the feelings rising in his heart. He wanted to take her back home with him so he could tend to the obvious pain she was in. Someone was mistreating her. Horribly, he might add. Did she leave him alone in the restaurant to go live a shittier life? There was more to this that he needed to know. Not everything added up.

There was this voice in his mind, nagging him to tell her how disorderly his life was without her in it. Everything changed since the day she got kidnapped. Then things changed again, for reasons she wasn't willing to tell him about. He shouldn't want to even see her right now, but he did...

The look he gave her was a perfect representation of 'are you fucking kidding me right now?' Let her fix his hair, after the vicious beating she gave him with her voice a few weeks ago? Nicoli turned away from her, as if he were offended. She knew he needed the help, too. Sasha knew better than anybody how important his hair was to him. "Unbelievable," he commented coldly, but a defeated sigh followed. Maybe getting his hair fixed would help get things back on track? Having that part of him messed up didn't help, that's for sure. "Just go to my building on Oak View. You can cut my hair at my private office. Just wait for me in the lobby if you don't see me there already."

Why in the world was she wearing a tracking anklet? Well, no matter if she leads someone to his working grounds. In fact, he wouldn't mind it at all. He was in the mood to draw blood. It would be extra satisfying for it to be someone affiliated with Sasha's dilemma, whatever it may be. He assumed it had to do with that Mark person... He's come up in enough conversations for it to make sense.

With nothing more to do or say, Nic turned back around to continue his walk home. At least now he could look forward to having his hair fixed by someone who knew what they were doing. It wasn't going to be a comfortable meeting, though. They weren't going to talk to each other at all, but he had so much he needed to say. Having suffered abuse in the past, he couldn't promise silence. That sort of topic could get his blood boiling.
 

Good, great- he actually accepted her help. Even if the look he gave her made it obvious that he was pissed.

She could take this.

She nodded, cracked a small smile and walked down the street further to get what she needed from that beauty store and then took the products with her to where he had talked about. Her heart was beating roughly in her chest and her stomach was gurgling- not like she had anything to throw up today, she hadn't eaten yet.

It wasn't like Mark wanted her. He wanted her to be under his command- He didn't care otherwise. He might get to the point where she practically had to ask him permission just to go to the goddamned bathroom, but at least he didn't make a move on her. He didn't care if she looked like shit- just that she was there.

As long as she could keep Nico from talking, she could do this one last act. Everything inside of her was fighting to talk to him though, and she was afraid that if he said too much, she might actually try to physically shut him up. She'd hate to do it- but she didn't want him involved in this...

She kicked around in the lobby, uncertain of what to do and feeling completely out of place. Just get this over with and let it go. He'd be fine without her.

Even though he looked like shit that got ran-over by a truck.

She trembled slightly as she waited- another wave of nausea passing over her- she didn't care. She'd drink some vodka and do some shots when she got back to the club- maybe find something to eat. She was nervous, honestly and she didn't know what to do about it. She'd already been off her path for some time- and she knew that no one would come get her- no, the best part was having to walk back, knowing exactly what to expect.

Honestly every time she got put through the ringer or abused, she tried to remember how Nico acted, tried to emulate that. It made her feel the slightest bit better.
 
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