Name: A Path Less Travelled
SUMMARY: What would you give, to start a new life or a new path? Mostly AU. Please give it a shot.
A/N: This was dying to be written! I came up with the idea brainstorming while having a bath (Lol) and I began work on it about..27 minutes ago, so sorry if it's not any good but it needed to be wrote! It's not exactly my first story - I did post another one but I haven't updated in YONKS! Although I'm not really sure where to go with Ch. 2 or if anyone is actually interested in it.
Inspired by the poem by Robert Frost 'The Road not Taken'
Disclaimer: Don't own it and I wish I owned Robert Frosts' amazing work!
Chapter One - Angel of Sins
She could feintly smell the intoxicating smoke, the low thrumming of bass in the background and the steadying leers of the spectators analyzing her play. But the cheers and whispers fell silently on her ears. She was focused.
The croupier, although a young man, seemed experienced as he raised his brow, surprised at her actions, "are you sure, madame?" he questioned, scraping his fingernails through an obviously greased, jet black cut. "I don't think you are."
Without breaking eye contact, she repeated, "all on black," flashing a fake, steely smile, drained of any emotion, "it's my favourite colour."
Winking seductively at the balding man sat to her left, who had been quietly watching the exchange for a while now, she turned to him, tipping her head, and questioning, "Don't you like black?" the question was whispered and her fingertips were now trailing the up the gentlemans' arm flirtatiously.
"If you like black," this was spoken gruffly as he stubbed the cigar on the ashtray, "I like black too."
Flashing another sickly, sweet smile that others could consider as only malicious, she turned to the croupier again, her oh-so-innocent face curtly nodded.
Accepting this as an answer, the Frenchman tugged at the end of his waistcoat firmly to reduce invisible creases neatly. "If you are sure, madame..." at her nod, he spun the wheel, once, twice...three times.
Her eyes did not lock on the ball, unlike the others; she didn't have to look to know. She could smell the fear radiating from the other players, she could smell the hope and desperation.
She fed on it.
The whole room fell silent to watch the potential stranger win or lose. The bass, she could have sworn, had been lowered so she could almost hear the hearts punching their ribcages. Their pulses were not weak...but strong.
She felt the tip of her tongue gliding across her teeth. She needed it.
She heard gasps.
The man beside her took the moment to grope her, squeezing her skin with his stubby fingers that jabbed at her backside.
For one, the Frenchman looked confused, but he still smiled, although cautious of her actions. "Congratulations, madame," he sincerely said, offering his hand towards her.
Taking the palm in her own, she smiled back genuinely, "thank you."
Lighting up another cigar, the hand was removed - thankfully, before she forced it away. "Come with me," she felt the man whisper into her ear, "I'll make it worth your while."
Excusing herself from the table that was now full of cheers and well - astonishment - she followed the man across the casino. She felt eyes boring into her as she glided herself across the room glamorously.
"We're all alone now," she noted, sadly, tracing patterns on the wine glass offered to her, "Why did you have to let our friends go?"
The man chuckled, and raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip while eying her. "They weren't friends...I think you know that..." he spun around to close the door, and then faced her again.
And she did. They were just people. Another person in her way, she'd gladly end.
"I have a proposition for you-"
"Who doesn't?" she asked flatly.
Chuckling and taking another swig of his wine, he continued after her interruption, "my name is Andreas Barcali, owner of this...very fine casino," he chuckled, "but I'm sure you don't really care about that."
She nodded, "you would be right, I don't, Andreas, and I also know you do not own this...very fine casino," she drawled, "that I happened to bankrupt five minutes ago," at his chuckle she continued, "so...what is the real reason why you bought me..." she looked around, taking in her surroundings and raised her eyebrow adding, "to this...establishment?"
"Establishment?" he questioned, "well, it's been called a lot worse than in it's time."
"I'm sure I could think of something to describe it," she smirked before setting the wine down on the nearest coffee table. At his questioning glance, she shrugged, "I'm not much of a wine kind of girl."
Smiling, Andreas retrieved a napkin from his evening suit, and wiped the grease away from his face. "Fiesty," he nodded appreciatively, "I do like that in a woman."
"You and me both," she smirked.
Two could play at this dirty game.
His lips parted into another smile as he took a drag from his cigar, "aren't you full of surprises?"
Ignoring the rhetorical question, she looked to his cigar, "smoking kills," she simply said, before advancing around the room, looking at the portraits with a shrug.
His eyes followed her as she swiftly moved from one picture to another, "so do you."
"Touche," she turned to face him, "do you have any beds?"
Andreas nodded, "many...why?"
Quirking the signature eyebrow, she simply asked, "why do you think?"
Not sure if I should continue this - but if you guys are interested I'll give it a shot. Also - I hope you noticed I didn't give 'she' or 'her' a name - but match the actions! Who do you think 'she' or 'her' is? =P