Chapter Text
Today’s book delivery was supposed to be like all the other ones.
Emily, like always, would enter silently, being mindful just in case the twins or Miranda were in the townhouse, and would quickly drop off the thick binder in its corresponding place before dipping out undetected. Like a ghost.
She had almost made it out before a strange sound stopped her in her tracks. Something on one of the upper floors had come tumbling down and had crashed loudly against the floor. Emily couldn’t make out what it was exactly or what room it had come from, but a few seconds of stifling silence passed before the unmistakable sound of a footstep rang from the top floor and down to the hallway where she stood.
Emily immediately feels her heart hammer in her ribcage, almost like it wanted to leap out of its cage and out into the carpeted floor of the townhouse’s entrance. Well, that certainly couldn’t happen; Miranda would certainly not appreciate it if she painted the beautiful blue rug beneath her feet with a deep shade of red, like her blood.
If the complete darkness she found herself in had been an indication of something, it was that she was supposed to be alone, and that certainly wasn’t the case anymore.
She was just starting to lose the ability to breathe when the horrifying reality began to settle in: Someone had broken into the townhouse.
Emily feels her hands shake violently as she tries to feel for her phone in the countless pockets of her coat and curses at herself when she comes back empty-handed. There went her opportunity to call for the police.
An incredibly stupid idea flashes through her head. She should be making her way out of the townhouse and calling for help outside and away from harm's way, but it almost seems as if her body acts before her head properly has time to catch up. She feels her legs wobble pathetically as they make their way to the den where Miranda kept a landline phone.
Surely if she were careful enough, she could make her way over and quietly call for law enforcement.
Gosh, the lengths she was willing to go to for Miranda were getting pretty ridiculous and, frankly, concerning if she were to say so herself.
Another crash rings through the dark hallway, and Emily can barely stifle her yelp of fright with the palm of her hand as she stumbles into the den and carelessly dives for the phone. Much to her terror, it rolls off its dock and clatters down on the wooden floor. She instinctively covers her ears in fear.
In the deafening silence, this single mistake sounded like death.
The realization causes her heart to stutter painfully in her chest, and she bunches the fabric there in a weak attempt to pull herself together. She scrambles helplessly for the device, and she’s nearly able to stop her fingers from shaking as she dials emergency services, but she freezes as her ears catch the sound of a door creaking open slowly. Emily crawls behind a single-seater couch that was nearby and focuses all of her attention on the number pad as her thumb presses on the nine, then twice on the number one. She tightened the hold on the phone as she held it up to her ear, hearing it ring once and twice before they picked up.
“911, what is your emergency?” The voice of a young woman comes through the line, and Emily tries not to sigh in relief.
“There has been a break-in,” Emily whispers, curling into herself and shutting her eyes tight. She prayed that it would be quiet enough not to alert whoever the burglar was.
“Ok. What is the address or location of the emergency?"
That should be easy enough to answer.
“128 West–wait, no,” Emily winces as she tries to quickly search her brain for an answer. For the correct answer. Oh, damn her stupid brain, shutting down in the most critical of situations. She had been dropping the book off for such a long time that, after a while, coming to Miranda’s place had started to feel as natural as breathing.
“Ma’am, please calm down,” The woman comes through again.
This time, it really takes all of Emily's effort not to curse her out. So much for staying calm. There was a fucking burglar in the house for god's sake!
“129 East—” Emily yelps as something crashes into her wrist painfully, sending the phone flying out of her grasp and causing it to crash against the wall beside her.
She whips her head around and screams again as someone—the supposed burglar— takes hold of the collar of her shirt, hauling her up and pressing her hard into the brick wall. It causes the air in her lungs to escape at once, leaving her gasping. She tries her darn hardest to make out the person’s face, but she just can’t. Not when the floor beneath her feet seems to rotate around her.
The hold on her shirt tightens, and she swears it makes her go lightheaded.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sweetheart.” The burglar—a woman!—purrs slowly in front of her.
And to Emily’s surprise, she lets go of her and turns on a nearby desk lamp, which nearly blinds her as it illuminates everything around both of them with its warm light. She’s able to blink her eyes to focus, and she’s able to finally take in the woman standing in the middle of the den.
Wow.
She had a sleek, black skintight suit that hugged her body in a way that Emily had never seen in all of the years working at Runway. Her face was adorned with a matching black feline-like mask, and the goggles—without a doubt ones that helped her see in the pitch black darkness from a few seconds ago— were flipped up, which gave the impression of small cat ears. Emily’s eyes land on the short whip situated on the belt of her hip before flitting up to her face, where she is met with deep brown eyes.
The woman’s mouth twisted into a wicked smirk as she tilted her head. She sauntered towards Emily slowly, hips swaying side to side as she looked at her with a look that could only be described as one belonging to a predator.
Emily shrinks into the wall behind her, feeling like worthless prey in front of her.
“I-I know you,” Emily squawks out pathetically, “You’re that thief that’s been going around.”
The woman purses her lips. “Yeah? You can call me Andy, beautiful.”
Emily hears the panicked voice of the operator crackle through the speakers from the discarded phone, and it’s enough to break her out of her reverie. She lunges down to grab a hold of it, and before she is even halfway into the motion of bringing it up toward her ear, Andy leaps over the desk and pins Emily’s wrist to the wall with the arch of her heels. It sends the phone clattering down on the floor again.
“Don’t! I’m sorry.” Emily gasps.
Andy, now visibly irritated, takes hold of Emily’s chin and twists her neck to the side as she leans in centimeters away from her ear, whispering hotly into the shell of her ear, “Easy, sweetheart. You finish telling them where we are, and a lot of men with guns are going to ruin a perfectly beautiful night.” She pulls away and stares at Emily through her lashes. “We don’t want that, do we?”
Emily shakes her head weakly, movement restrained by the tight grip she has on her face.
“She’ll kill me if I let you walk out of here.” Emily tries to reason out, voice breaking slightly. “You’re not supposed to be here. Much less stealing from my boss.”
Andy giggles as she lets Emily dislodge her wrist from between her foot and the brick. “These things?” She pulls out a pair of brooches. They seemed to be the shape of a snake. Their bodies were made out of solid silver that had been coated in pure gold, and they also had beautiful red and blue diamonds embedded into the body.
They were rare. Worth thousands of dollars.
Emily widens her eyes, and the woman’s smile grows.
“How did you…”
“Your boss will be just fine! She has enough money to sustain the whole city if she so wished. Meanwhile, I’ve been an idiot all this time for not coming here sooner. Having said that,” Andy stares into Emily’s eyes as she puts away the brooches, “If I knew Miranda had such a beautiful girl like you working for her, I would have broken in months ago.” She presses herself closer to her space, almost pressing the front of her body flush against Emily. Her voice drops into a sultry whisper. “That reminds me, make sure to tell that boss of yours to get a better safe. Seriously, for a woman with much wealth, she sure has a shitty defense system. Like taking candy from a baby. Too boring.”
Andy trails a gloved finger across the line of Emily’s chin mindlessly, then down to the hollow of her neck. She drags one of her razor-sharp iron nails down the milk colored skin of her neck down to her exposed shoulder and sees her throat bobble up and down anxiously.
Emily whimpers, and Andy shuts her eyes.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Right now? Nothing. But I’m keeping your face in my mind.” Andrea steps back. She lets her eyes trail down Emily’s body and licks her lips, almost like she was ready to pounce on her at any second. “I pray I don’t find you again. It makes it hard to focus.”
Andy turns away and makes her way to a nearby window. She struggles to get it open, but after a few seconds of pushing, she’s able to get it done. “Don’t worry. She won’t know how easy it was to distract you.”
Emily swallows hard.
“Don't stare at me like that, I might start thinking you want me to stay,” Andy laughs at the bewildered expression on Emily’s face as the redhead diverts her eyes in hot shame. “I’ll see you around, baby.”