Kenzo

REBECCA

Rebecca is late to the dining room, and twenty-eight men, including Kenzo, fill the table up.

Rebecca walks through the room quickly, keeping her head down, and enters the kitchen breathing in and out because all the men were staring at her.

She wasn’t expecting them all to show up early and runs over to the side, picks up four plates, and walks into the dining room again with two in her hands and the other two on her arms.

Placing the plates down on the table, Rebecca enters the kitchen again and does the same routine over and over again until the table is filled.

Entering the kitchen to grab a jug of orange juice, she walks out, and Kenzo clicks his fingers, looking Rebecca up and down.

She’s nervous as she tiptoes across the room to him.

Stopping directly next to him, she places the jug of juice down on the table and rubs the top of her arms awkwardly, not saying a word.

She doesn’t know what to say or how to approach him. He did say that he was going to show her what to do, so that could be why he wanted to grab her attention.

Looking around the room, she finds that all the men are glaring at her as they eat their food. All of them sit up the exact same way in their black suits.

Some of the men are wearing white shirts with metal ties while others are in black shirts and black ties.

Rebecca doesn’t know why, but she has a sneaky suspicion that it has something to do with their job roles.

“Take this seat next to me, Rebecca.” Kenzo holds his hand out, pointing at the black leather chair next to him, and Rebecca nods her head, sitting down.

Playing with her fingers, she feels the tension in the room increase. It keeps getting stronger.

How awkward! Rebecca bites the inside of her cheeks, sitting up straight, and Kenzo turns his head to the side, looking at her with a devilish grin. She doesn’t know what he wants.

Does he want her to sit there while he eats or place all the plates down on the table?

He told you to sit here, Bec, so why would he expect you to place down all the plates while you’re seated? she asks herself.

She doesn’t know, but what confuses her more is that the kitchen was empty when she entered. She didn’t see a chef.

Kenzo’s eyes move down her dress, making Rebecca feel more uncomfortable to where she shifts on her seat slightly.

Pouring a glass of orange juice, he slides his finger around the rim of the glass, and Rebecca watches as her mouth dries up, the feeling of grainy sand down the back of her throat.

“Tell me, Rebecca. Do I intimidate you?” Kenzo leans back in his seat, touching his face with his fingers. Rebecca shrugs her shoulders and pushes a piece of hair behind her ear.

She always does it when she’s feeling extremely anxious and placed under pressure. Shrugging her shoulders, she looks into his gray orbs as he nods his head in thought.

Sighing, Kenzo picks up another glass and pours some orange juice inside it before clicking his fingers.

“Grim. Go and get me the vodka,” he tells his man in a thick, Italian accent.

Rebecca watches as he walks behind her seat, opens the cabinet on her right, and passes an unopened bottle of vodka over to Kenzo.

Grim shuts the cabinet and takes his seat again as Kenzo opens the bottle. Pouring a triple into each of the two glasses, he places one of the round glasses in front of Rebecca.

“Drink it. I will feel offended if you refuse it,” Rebecca nods her head and picks up her glass at the same time as Kenzo.

Placing it to her lips, she keeps her eyes on Kenzo as he does the same to her. The difference is that she feels uncomfortable, while Kenzo seems to be in his element.

“As you may know, I’m a wealthy man, Rebecca. I understand that you and I are from two different worlds.

What I cannot figure out is why you are afraid of me, and I would appreciate it if you could tell me what you think you know.”

Rebecca stops drinking her drink and holds it to her lips, looking at Kenzo.

“Erm. You shoot people,” Rebecca carries on drinking her drink and looks at the glass in Kenzo’s hand as he tilts it to the side.

“I see. You’re afraid that I will shoot you too,” Rebecca nods her head.

She’s afraid of his name, his group, his evil grin, the way he presents himself, and what he can do if he tells his men to do something.

She has heard about the way he gets what he wants, and now she can see his eyes are on her. She just hopes he won’t want to keep her, but she has this feeling that he will.

She’s read books and watched movies about men like Kenzo. They go for the innocent girls, and she knows that she is one.

She can’t even string a simple sentence together, never mind be a strong woman in black who will hold a machine gun. Now, that version of herself is way above who she is now.

“I’m not a man who apologizes. I will make a small exception this time. You see, Rebecca, the man who I shot last night was a man who had got in my way on purpose.

“The paparazzi collects many stories. Many of them include incorrect details, but I’m not going to deny your allegation because that headline was true.

“I could have had his body cleaned up, but I decided not to. I had my reasons for doing so. What are your thoughts on the unfaithful?”

“I don’t know,” Rebecca shrugs her shoulders as Kenzo clears his drink and picks up the bottle of vodka again.

She respects Kenzo for being honest, but at the same time, he has confirmed that he is a killer.

I am sitting in a room next to a murderer, she thinks to herself, trying to stay calm.

“You and I may not see eye-to-eye. I have power, but I can give anyone anything they want. That’s not the point. We have a law that keeps women like yourself safe. As I was—”

The dining room door opens, and Rex enters with a woman. She has luscious, strawberry-blond hair that matches beautiful, green eyes, and a curvy body.

A black leather dress sits on her curvy body, and Rebecca stares at her, lost for words not that she had any to begin with.

Still, the woman who stands behind her is a strong and independent woman. She reflects who Rebecca wants to be.

“Kenzo,” Rex states calmly, and Kenzo glances over his shoulder at the woman before picking up the bottle of vodka and pouring it into Rebecca’s glass, topping it up.

“Ahh. You must be Rhi.” Tapping the table on his left, Kenzo waits for Rhi to sit down and turns himself to face his men.

“Rebecca. You may carry on. Drink that and ease up, you are too tense.” Rebecca nods her head, and Kenzo stands up.

Walking over to the cabinet, he takes out a book of papers and drops them down onto the table.

“So, Rhi, this is the contract.” Rebecca leans back in her seat, picking up her glass and holding it to her lips. Now she’s interested. A contract.

Hmm, well, what could that be for? she asks herself, watching as Kenzo turns the first page over.

Is this a better version? Let me know if you’ve already read it before. I would love to know your opinion.