My hands fidgeted on my lap, eyes glued to the person sitting opposite to me in a desperate attempt to search his face for any signs betraying the extent of his knowledge about the skeletons in my cupboard.

  His face never for once any of the cold menace in those words that echoed in my ears still. No, none at all while choosing from the menu, not even when he ordered two cups of latte did the facade drop. He had all the genuine air of a chivalrous gentleman while speaking to the waiter, which was definitely not lost on him as it was on me.

  Only when the waiter left did he turn his gaze fall upon the anxiously agitated creature, which was me.

  'Since I know so much about you, it is only fair if I introduce myself. My name is Vittore Luigi Viscontini, heir of casa Viscontini' He paused with an air of aristrocratic emphasis as if that fact itself was enough to enlighten me, a commoner.

  'Never heard of it,' I heard myself say.

  Some of the self-important demeanour seemed to have been squashed under the weight of my blatant indifference 'Well, naturally, the name is less popular with the present generation,' He muttered under his breath but audible enough for my hearing.

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  'Enough about me, pray tell why Black Frost has resorted to such a mundane lifestyle,' he spoke in a low voice, hands folded on the table, eyebrows slightly knitted.

  So this was it, the extent of his knowledge, relief washed over me like a bucket of soothing warm water, but I could not allow him to realise that.

  'What is it to you and how do you know about that'

  'Easy there with the questions, answer mine first'

  'No reason in particular, it was not the kind of job one likes to keep'

  'Fair enough, but do you know what surprises me? It is that your record is too clean, apart from working in the underground that is' he animated his features, Hazel eyes glinting against the lighting. 'Most people working there have interesting origins, if you know what I mean'

  'How is that of any importance to you, or wait, are you with the police?' I asked suspiciously even though the answer was rather obvious, the police don't work in such round-about ways. I was determined to appear as dumb as could be.

  'That i am not,' He said, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

  'You're right, it is of no importance as of now. I come to you for business, to hire you'

  'What?!' An expression of confusion took over my face before I could stop.

  'Details of the job will be disclosed upon your arrival at your workplace'

  'And what if I refuse?'

  'Then the details of your past profession will be disclosed to the police'

  'You ask me to work for you and your shady business and threaten me with the police upon my refusal'

  'Hipocrisy, isn't it? You'll soon realise that is a trait I've mastered quite flawlessly.' He mocked as if the person in question was someone other than his own self .

  'The address will be emailed to you by midnight. Be there by 6 p.m. tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm a rather busy person '

  Then he got up and left just as he had done at the exhibition, leaving me dumbfounded once again. In the end, I had to pay without having touched the coffee , lactose doesn't sit well with my stomach.