[Hey, Anastasia. I just wanted to check in and make sure you're alright] I had to ignore Mr. Grey's text. Mr. Bodyguard and I walked side-by-side down the street on our way to…. on our way to the Five-Way Catacomb. God, I hated going down there. It wasn't a real Catacomb; that's just what it was called…. for some reason. I don't know where the "Five-Way" came from either; you'd have to ask the Dollar's fore-founders on that one.
Everyone at the manor made it clear that I was expressly forbidden to go down there alone, not that anything would likely happen to me if I did. Gotta air on the side of caution though. Whenever I went down there, I wore all black, men's clothes; black, baggy jeans, black shirt, and black hoodie with hood up- at least we were downstairs. I honestly looked like a guy with my hair and face hidden by the wide hood; a puny, lanky boy but still. Neither Mr. Bodyguard nor I said a word our way down there. Honestly, I don't know why he saw fit to drag me along; wasn't that just more inconvenient for him? Still, Daddy had this thing about showing me off in the underground community; in a safe setting of course. He knew I'd be more than safe with this guy. He'd probably break anyone's arm who dared try to touch me; and wouldn't hesitate either. That didn't make me feel as good as you think it might.
We arrived at the back-alley door and after a quick check around, Mr. Bodyguard pressed some numbers in this door lock on the wall. The door unlocked and he held it open for me. Without a thank you, I entered onto the metal, holey ramp. The first thing it hit you was the smell; it smelt like smoke, grease, sweat, and all that nastiness. Mr. Bodyguard shut the door and motioned for me to descend the clanky stairs, following right behind. This little light in front of us where all the noise was coming from got progressively larger as we approached it. Reaching the entrance, didn't hesitate to wrap his arm securely around my shoulder. He didn't look at me once, but he held me close. Guess his orders were clear.
Words cannot describe how much I hate this place. It's not only a Dollar's hidden lair; lots of smaller, allied gangs hung out here as well, though a lot of Dollars did come here. This is where gangsters came for practically everything. Needed a weapon? Five-Way Catacomb. Wanted cheap drugs? Five-Way Catacomb. Hire a hitman? Five-Way Catacomb. Sex and booze? You guessed it. This place was a gross, unrespectable, and nowhere a PhD candidate should be in her right mind. There were underworld vendors and specialists; there were even discreet doctors and surgeons. Just rows and rows of illegal stalls and countless mobsters. Coming down here for anyone outside the gang world was a death sentence. For someone like me however….
Even with my hood up, some people- mostly Dollars- recognized who I was. Now, one thing you gotta know about the Steele clan is that we are a mob lord family; we basically rule the whole Dollar operation. And let me tell you, this is no little operation. Only like ten percent of the Dollars ever got invited to the official manor, and even that might be too much. They don't call me the "Mob Princess" for no reason; I was practically royalty, a celebrity down here. That, I hated too. Imagine being the heir to a massive, very wealthy empire you don't even want. It's horrible, especially when you consider that I can't even marry for love to help myself get through this. Heh, just like a real historical princess.
People spotted me, whispered amongst themselves, but didn't dare say a word to me outright. You didn't want to be on Daddy's bad side- ever. Plus I had like one of the strongest men out there clinging to me currently. Yeah, I had my protection down here, to say the least. We eventually reached the burner phone booth; this little knack of a place in the corner of the building. An old man with grey hair, a hat, and round glasses was working there. He saw Mr. Bodyguard first, then he saw me.
"One phone," was all Mr. Bodyguard had to say. By now, he had thankfully retracted his arm and I pulled down my hood; we were in a quiet enough session. The vendor nodded, pulling out an old, maybe 2005's flip phone and box of phone chips. That's what they did; they let you pull out your own phone chip at random to make it harder to track you. Mr. Bodyguard did so, putting the chip in the phone hurriedly.
While he was busy with that, I glanced around, praying not to see any rats run by. Instead of actual rats, one man- who was sitting at one of the more prestigious eateries, if you could call it that- eyed me. He came over to where I was standing, giving me this half-friendly grin. I knew this guy, but not his name; he was another influential Dollar, someone working very close under Daddy. I'd never spoken to him in person before; only seen him at the manor once or twice. I don't think I trusted this man, and it wasn't just his sleezy smile either.
"Well, well, well. How lucky are we to be graced by the presence of royalty? Hello there, little princess." Ugh, "little". Powerful men would call me that all the time, despite me being twenty-eight years old and five-foot-six. "Good evening….." I knew Daddy would want me to be polite, if not nice to him; though I had trouble meeting his gaze. "What are you doing down here? You Steeles never come literally underground unless absolutely necessary." "Just picking up something." "I see…." His eyes rolled to the insanely strong man standing not far behind us. He knew he better watch his words carefully; that was of the only perks of having the Hulk escort you.
"My, it must have been bad for your father to hire him." "An informant named Black approached me last night," no need to hide this from a fellow Dollar; he'd learn about it eventually- particularly when the informant was eventually caught. "Black?! What did he want with you? No offence, sweetheart, but you're our princess; not our queen yet," his eyes grew in shock. Thank god for that. "He wanted information on this guy named uh, Jack Hyde. He's gone into hiding it looks like." "Hyde?" "He infiltrated the manor last weekend." "You spoke to him?!" More surprise. "Apparently I'm the last one who did. I told the informant this; I don't know what else he wants with me." "I wonder…." His fat finger ran under his chin ponderingly. Then he gazed back to me; that felt really awkward.
"Ah, don't worry, princess. Your Daddy and us will fix everything; don't you concern your pretty, little head over it." "Uh, right….. thanks," I had to fight a cringe so bad. He scanned me up and down once more; this was borderline creepy now. Come on, Mr. Bodyguard! Hurry up and finish so we can get the heck outta here! If I never come down here again, it'll be too soon.
"You're what? Like twenty-six now?" "Twenty-eight, sir," I actually cringed this time. "You look so young…" I wasn't sure if he meant this as a compliment or not; he said it more like an observation than anything. "Are you still in school?" "Just starting my PhD." "PhD, huh? You're a smart one." "No, not really," I waved my hand in the air, trying not to look too grossed out. "So, that's three more years….. then what?" "Huh?" This question took me back a bit. "Then what" what? Then I find a job and start writing; I thought that seemed obvious. Apparently not.
This mobster watched me intensely for another moment before smiling- he actually smiled pleased down at me. "Well, three years isn't a long time. I'm sure by then you'll be ready to settle down." "I beg your pardon?" I had an idea what he meant by this, but really hoped I was wrong. "Do you have a boyfriend?" "N-not at the moment….." I sputtered, completely forgetting about my fake boyfriend for a moment. Where was he going with this? He chuckled, almost lustfully. "Well, I bet school doesn't leave you a lot of time to date. You still have plenty of time." "T-time for what?" Oh god, why isn't Mr. Bodyguard done yet?
"Hasn't Steele told you? We expect a wedding sooner or later; gotta carry on that Steele name." I don't think my mouth could have dropped harder. It was one thing for Daddy to talk about marriage; it was a whole other thing for Dollars who I barely knew to bring it up. I mean I was supposed to be in charge of this creep one day! He clearly didn't respect me; just saw me as some glorified breeding machine. Talk about disgusting. While I frowned, completely affronted, he pointed to a younger man sitting behind him. It was another Dollar with two girls on his lap and a cigar in his mouth; he didn't notice me at all, looking perfectly happy in his current company.
"My son's about your age. You two should get together and meet sometime," he said this like it was a genuine offer. Oh, hell no! I merely shook my head. "Uh, t-thank you, sir. But like you said, school's keeping me pretty busy at the moment." "Oh, don't worry, honey. I've already made it clear to him- he won't knock any girls up before you make your choice." I felt like vomiting in my mouth. He's actually considered me and his womanizing son before? Like even before we've met in person? This gave "arranged marriages" a whole new meaning in my eyes. This is how men- especially older men- spoke to me in the underworld. Zero respect, and all because I'm a woman. If this is infuriating to hear, that's because it is. It's no wonder I didn't want to be the boss of any of these people. Granted, some were very respectful and protective, but the majority were just like him. He didn't care if me and his stupid, gross son got along; he- like many others- had their eyes on my inheritance. I was the biggest jackpot in their eyes. Hence, the term "princess".
"His name's Jacob. I'll bring him around the manor sometime." "Uh…. um… I-I… I really can't get involved with anyone right now! Don't want my schoolwork to suffer!" "No one's talking about marriage right now, princess; you still have time. But remember, sooner or later these kinds of things will need to be sorted out. Plus…" his smile widened, and I had to hold back vomit again.
"Your babies would be smart and beautiful."