🍄 RACHEL🍄
Bronx... even during spring, the weather was a bit chilled. It wasn't anything like Manhattan, but the life here was, well... it had that ratchet feel to it.
Born to a Sudanese mother and a Russian father, I was the only daughter and daddy's girl. My father gave me everything and anything I wanted, I was given.
I should be proud of being a daughter to a very wealthy and powerful man, but indeed, I wasn't. My father is the devil I hated the most, deadly and full of evil.
Drugs, illegal dealings and murder was his own way of achieving his self proclaimed wealth and he never spared anyone, not even his family.Several times, I have seen him murder several people right in front of my very eyes. Though sickening, I became used to it.
I fled Manhattan to Russian to find my inner peace. To hide away, and forget ever being related to him...
Almost 21,even though I hated myself and this life I was given, I cannot escape from it only through death.I sighed, entering my Mercedes C300 luxury saloon car."Today was fun", I said to myself, turning on the engine.My mind went back to the art room. The new friend I made, What was his name again!?
...Jake De Walter...I smiled.He is... I couldn't find words to describe him. To start with, he is really tall. I had to tilt my head up a bit to get a glimpse of his face.
He was wearing a red, long sleeved shirt and blue denim pants with brown high top suedes. He was very handsome, though he didn't look like a Frenchman, he was admirable. His prominent narrow nose, thick black eyebrows, black wavy short hair that was in the sling back style and deep set, compelling, blue eyes. His firm, pursed lips and the most attractive thing about him, is his seductive stance. He had this poise and simplicity, neither proud nor humble. His tone of voice was the type that could arouse a woman, the soft tones and selected pitches, it could romance you without any tactile sensation.
His English was clear and the fact that he was very jovial and free spirited, made me admire him the more.Wait, What?.What the hell am I thinking about?. But still, something about him reminds me of Ryan manchester.
I rolled my eyes, staring at my purse that laid on the passenger seat. I lifted it, thinking,Should I call the agency or scrap it?.I already have it in mind on getting a house and the agency I am working with haven't gotten me a nicer home to buy.
I quickly opened my purse, taking the card out of it.I took out my phone, dialing the number written on it. It rang for a while and then the person picked,"Hello. Billy's agency here. How may I help you?", a voice said."Hello Billy, my name is Rachel. I was given your business card by a friend and I was told you have nicer homes and apartments",I said."Oh ,yes yes. Good morning, Miss or Mrs Rachel?", he asked."Miss", I replied.
"Okay ma'am. I have a lot of readily available apartments that will suit your style, taste and it is comfortable to your wallet, purse or bank account. If you like, we could start by checking out a few available ones today or anytime you wish", he said."Today will be fine. I am currently less busy", I said."That's good to hear. What time? I am as free as hell and ready to get you wowing at the few I have in store", he said in a funny, melodious tone.I laughed, this day is just so funny."Sorry, I couldn't help it. It's almost ehh...",I checked my wristwatch,"... 11am. Why don't we get moving around 1:30pm?. I need to rest for a while, is that okay?", I asked.
"Sure beautiful, any time you wish, I am at your service", he said.I smiled."Okay Billy, later then","Later ma'am. Have a good rest", he said.
"Alright, thank you", I said, cutting the call.
I dropped my phone down on the passenger seat, smiling as I drove off..... Billy came around to pick me up at the hotel in a truck. As we drove, I can't help but laugh at all the funny stories and jokes he told. He told me about his rough life before he inherited his father's business and decided to focus on that. It's hard for me to open up about my personal life to him, we just met. But, he didn't think in such a manner. He told me a lot about himself which I acknowledged him for that."So... you haven't told me what your surname is", he said.
"blake.""Wow. By any chance, are you related to the famous Collins blake?"I flinched."No. I don't even know who he is", I replied, glancing at him.He shrugged a shoulder."It's just that, not everyone bears that name and he is very popular", he said, taking a turn to the left.I looked in front.
"Yeah.
I am a Russian, hence the name. If you're a visitor in Russian, the name Blake is quite popular", I said."Oh fascinating, I should visit whenever I have the chance", he said, a big smile was on his face."Yeah", I said absentmindedly.Blake... to me, being related to him, was a curse. I could still remember those nights I would hear gunshots and blood being spilled on the tiled floor.I would become so terrified, as faint hearted as I was, I would pass out. In those horrific nights, I had a guarantee of safety.
Though I can't remember how he looks like, but he was my guardian angel.