#au!mob

This was not the way things had been taught to her. No. She had always been treated as almost a foster daughter of Mr. Forrest, going to the same prestigious schools as his daughter, attending the same events, being cared for the same way with only the price of making sure Gwen kept her feet on earth and was safe enough by constantly having her by her side. The Stans had an almost hierarchic way of doing business with the family itself being at the top while the employees stood right at the end of the pyramid. She couldn’t blame them for that, after all, they had held the highest rank in all of the families for over a century, but it still wasn’t free of criticism. 

Gwen had returned from her date with the mysterious guy with a spring on her step, and purple hickeys on her neck and collarbones. She had just sighed at the sight, rolling her eyes at the very much engaged woman’s behaviour. Y/N didn’t want to blame her or shame her into at least trying, fully knowing it was common for mistresses and affairs to occur in the mafia. However, Gwen was her friend and she’d rather have her try to at least be friends with Sebastian. Nevertheless, that probably wouldn’t happen and she should probably prepare herself to discuss the contract with someone who could possibly kill her and make it look like an accident. Could she even amend a contract? She didn’t know, but she was gonna try.

With all the might she could, she strutted towards his office, taking a deep breathe in. You’re a powerful woman, Y/N, she told herself. Powerful woman, Catherine Tramell levels of power. With all that, she knocked on the door, mumbling his name and wondering if she could run away had he not heard it. Sadly he did, telling her to come in. She opened the door, shaking like a leaf on a windy night. There he was, sprawled over his office chair like a king in his throne, slightly unbuttoned dress shirt.

     - Miss Y/N ... - her name rolled off the tip of his tongue just like honey, sickeningly sweet. Sebastian observed her too, her sleep filled eyes from what he guessed due to waiting for Gwen and her oversized baby pink dress which he was sure probably had belonged to Gwen too. - How can I help you?

     - I’m here for the contract. - she walked to his desk, contract in hands.

     - Did you sign it? - he questioned, pointing at the chair so she would sit down instead of spending the whole time on her feet. Not that he didn’t enjoy to see her standing.

     - Not really, I have a few questions. - she bit onto the skin of her bottom lip, placing the contract on top of his desk. - I also don’t agree with some points of this agreement.

    - It’s a contract, Miss Y/N. You sign it or you don’t sign it, we don’t discuss it because I have better things to do. - he put both his elbows on top of his desk but she instead opened the contract, pointing at one of the first bullet points right at the top. 

    - The subject will not pursue any legal action. Why would I pursue any legal action and why would I not be allowed to pursue it? - Sebastian chuckled, leaning against his chair with the most unnerving grin ever seen. 

    - Well, angel, if you were to pursue any legal action against me you wouldn’t win and considering your prior employer didn’t pay you ... I don’t think you have enough money to get good enough lawyer to fight mine. Even if you did, I own the jurors, whatever you did, I would still win.

    - I would still like the ability to sue you. - she crossed her arms. - Please. 

    - No, that stays. 

    - If that stays then this point ... - she changed to a different page, looking for the sentence she had highlighted the prior night. - The subject is to carry a firing weapon and receive training if untrained. This point leaves. 

    - That is also a hard no. It’s for yours and Miss Forrest’s protection.

    - Isn’t that what the weirdly suited man’s for? - his name was Christian and he constantly followed Gwen and Y/N around. Based on what she had noticed, he had at least two guns in his belt and was constantly annoyed at something. 

    - Alright, angel. How about you do the training and I don’t force you to carry around a gun? - he took a pen from his perfectly organised pen holder filled with the same matte coloured black pens. That type of organisation and colour matching was only seen in office supplies magazines. He turned the contract to himself, crossing it out and writing the newly discussed point. - Anything else?

    - When you said that all your employees must be submissive to orders ... how would you describe submissive? - Sebastian took a double look at her, wondering if she was teasing him but no. She had the most confused look he’d ever seen on someone’s face and he wondered how sheltered she was from the world she lived in. - Mr. Stan? 

    - Pardon me. - he woke up from his thoughtful state. His early morning brain did not dealt well with the words submissive followed by Mr. Stan in the same sentence, specially coming from her. - I think I would describe it as the dictionary describes it, Miss Y/N. Additionally, I believe I told you to call me Sebastian.

    - Yes, sorry. I just ... I don’t wanna, I don’t feel comfortable with the idea that I have to do everything you tell me to do. 

   - With all due respect, Miss Y/N, you are a handmaid. You’re a female servant and being a servant means you do everything you’re told.

   - Means I do everything Gwen tells me to me and even with that, it goes through some critical thinking. My loyalty does not lie with you until you’re married to Miss Forrest. - in any order circumstance, he would’ve had her punished for that snarky comment. However, this was Y/N and not only would the Forrests take it as an insult, he did not want to hurt such a precious little innocent thing. - So I would like that removed. 

   - I must say, Miss Y/N, you’re a good negotiator. - he crossed the point out, wondering if he’d ever regret it before handing it the pen back to her. - Now, would you please sign it?

   - Oh, alright. - she put the pen’s top up to her mouth, mindlessly bitting on it as she read the contract all over again, something Sebastian choose to advert his gaze from. His gaze only returned back to her as he heard the scribbling pen being put back on his desk. - I have a question. 

   - When don’t you have a question, Miss Y/N? - he put the pen back in its holder, filling her contract along with the rest of his staff. 

   - Can I decorate my room? - she played with the hem of her dress, back again to bitting her lip. - Not that I don’t like your taste I ...

   - I didn’t decorate it myself, Miss Y/N. You can do whatever you please with your room as long as it doesn’t disturb its safety and over wall construction design. 

   - Thank you. - she gave him that cheek to cheek smile, getting up from the chair and moving it back to its initial state.

   - I hope to see you at the engagement party tonight, Miss Y/N. That is, if you’re not covering for Miss Forrest’s affairs. 

   - It’s a party, I’m sure she’ll attend. 

She closed the door behind her, letting go of the air she had been holding in like a nervous little kid. Her hands flew to her cheeks which were severally heated up, but at least she had gotten half of what she wanted and that was worth the whole nervous scenario that would probably haunt her during sleepless nights. Nevertheless, she had gotten her way and right now she had enough strength in her to go awake up a very grumpy sleeping Gwen. 

Y/N walked into her bedroom, opening the door quite harshly to see if it would wake up sleeping beauty but she remained still in her slumber, as if the very loud noise wasn’t even there. Annoyed, Y/N grabbed the remote from her dresser, pointing it towards the windows so they shades would give way for the natural light to enter in. That seemed to do the trick as Gwen hissed like a cat, hiding her head under the duvet which Y/N unceremoniously pulled away from her. 

    - Rise and shine, Gwen. - she held the duvet in her hand as Gwen raised her head, giving her the scariest glare she’d ever seen. - Next time don’t stay out until 5 AM. Don’t you have an engagement party to get ready for?

     - Shopping does sound like a great idea. - she sat down on her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. - How do the hickeys look?

     - Like you were mauled by a bear. What do you even do with those boys that gets you looking like a TV hero after a fight? - they were fresh hickeys and just like any bruise they looked very red, starting to turn purple. Y/N might’ve never gotten a hickey but as a rather clumsy person, she did understood bruises very well which meant in a few hours that same hickey would start becoming very ugly. - Can’t you act like an engaged woman?

    - Can’t you act like less of a prude? - she grabbed her phone, turning it on to check for messages. 

    - Hey, I’m not a prude. - Y/N whined like a child, taking her phone away from her too. - Please go take a shower, put some makeup on those hickeys and get ready for lunch.

    - I wanna go shop for a new dress, Y/N. We can probably go and have lunch somewhere in the Upper East. - she wrapped herself in one of her countless satin robes. - I’m sure you can convince the Big Bad to allow us to go.

     - No. I covered for you last night and he caught me. I’m not gonna ask him for anything, you ask him, you’re his future wife.

     - C’mon, Y/N. What’s the worse he can do to you? - she could think of several things he could do to her that all ended up with her at the bottom of a lake sleeping with the fishes or whatever method of deposing he preferred. - He can’t kill you, that’s bad practice. 

     - No Gwen, you talk to him. I’m not gonna ask him anything after he caught me lying. - Y/N pulled the duvet back onto the bed as Gwen stepped into her wardrobe, looking at what to wear. - I’ll go grab my bag, I guess. 

     - I’ll talk to Sebastian, stop being such a scared little sheep. - Gwen screamed as she walked out and into her bedroom. Y/N eyes immediately scanned the room from side to side, wondering if someone had heard and thankfully no one had heard such thing.

She returned to her bedroom, taking note of a few things she would’ve grabbed from the shop to make it a bit more homey, maybe a nice dusty pink throw and some nice pillows. Yeah, that would make it look so much better.

Y/N grabbed her bag, putting her purse and phone in it before going down the stairs where a very annoyed Gwen was standing next to Sebastian who constantly had the same stoic look that made anyone want to immediately bow down.

     - Sebastian is coming with us. - Gwen shot him a glare for which he didn’t mind too much. 

     - If you’re gonna behave like a child, I’ll treat you like a child. - Y/N just followed them onto the lift, exchanging an uncomfortable look with the chauffeur as Gwen huffed, understanding she was not gonna have her way with this. 

The journey to the Upper East Side shopping street was even more uncomfortable. Everyone was mostly quietly, Gwen unhappy with not getting her way which was foreign to her, the chauffeur who barely spoke to begin with, Sebastian in the front looking over some papers and Y/N trying to turn invisible. Soon enough they were on the street with Y/N following Gwen into Prada, her favourite shop, along with the security guard while Sebastian took off to go somewhere else.

Going into expensive stores was something Y/N was used too but it still made her feel wildly out of place. From the clerks handing them expensive champagne to Gwen going over several newly in. She walked out in a red bodied dress that flared out from her waist, giving a little twirl.

    - Does this dress say forced engagement or not? - Gwen asked, shaking her hair a bit for volume. - I need a matching mask.

    - I thought you said covering your face was sacrilege. - Y/N leaned against the comfy coach in the changing room.

    - It’s a masquerade party. It’s really in right now, besides, a man in a mask is always entrancing.

    - Please don’t make out with someone at your own engagement party.

    - Alright, Y/N ... - she turned around. - I really don’t need your criticism right now.

    - I’m ... I’m sorry. - she bite onto her lip, getting up from the coach, picking onto the skirt of the dress. - I’ll wait with Amos outside. 

Gwen crossed her arms, watching her leave. Y/N knew for a fact she wasn’t being critic out of meanness alone, she just didn’t want her friend to be gossiped about in mob circles. She was a smart girl with capacity to take over her father’s place if it came the time to do so, however, Y/N guessed maybe her opinion wasn’t called for. 

She stepped in outside to stay with the very silent security guard. Did his contract say he couldn’t speak? Y/N didn’t know, at least it was better to be there without having Gwen wanting to have her head on a plate.

    - Found a dress already? - she turned to where the voice was coming, finding Sebastian waiting by the parked car. 

    - Oh, no. I have a dress at home, besides ... Gwen will probably buy two so if she doesn’t like the one I choose, I can always wear the one she doesn’t. 

    - Do you always let Miss Forrest pick what you wear? - he cocked his head to the side. - And you had an issue with being submissive to orders?

    - It’s not the same thing. - she crossed her arms, rolling her eyes.

    - Did you just roll your eyes at me? - he chuckled darkly, noticing how one of her hands came to rest upon one of her heated up cheeks. - Have you ever had a piece of clothing that wasn’t a hand out?

    - My school uniform was mine, I still have it, very soft dress shirt. 

    - Come on. - he snapped his fingers for one of his security men to follow him. Y/N scrunched her face, holding her bag as she walked behind him until he stopped in front of a store front which Y/N recognised as one of Gwen’s favourite shops to go in. Oscar de La Renta. - We’re getting you first new piece of clothing. 

    - I can afford a napkin from Oscar de La Renta. Much less a dress.

    - Consider it a gift from me. 

    - I can’t ... - she was interrupted by his phone ringing. He took it off his pocket, face lines intensified as he noticed the name on it. 

    - Stephen, make sure Miss Y/N gets a dress. 

    - Wait, Sebastian, I don’t need ... - he picked up his phone stopping her mid sentence. She stood there, watching him walk down the street on the phone. Biting her lip, with a little naughty smile, she entered the store with the security guard behind her.

Time to buy a dress.