My friends raised their brows along with their chins, indicating a question of how it was going, but by my grim stare, they got it loud and clear.
Fucked up, that was how.
Entering the plane, I sat her on a wide chair while removing my tee and wrapping it around her wrists, holding them together with a tight knot. “Sorry,krasavica, but I can’t have you endangering your life during the flight.”
She said nothing, shrugged, and then greeted the guys. “Hello, to you.” They shared a look, and then Michael sent her a goofy smile. “Nice to see you again.”
She chuckled. “Wish I could say the same, but… oh well, I can’t.” This seemed fucking hilarious to Michael as he burst out laughing. She studied the plane, which was considered a luxurious thing if one knew the worth of the expensive wood used for the seats, tables, and bars. The main area, with six wide, first-class style seats, had a flat-screen TV and a Wi-Fi connection. On the far end was one bedroom with a shower inside, along with two restrooms. Fucking comfortable if one travelled as much as I had in the last month.
“Dominic?” she whispered, and I kneeled in front of her, so our eyes would be on the same level.
“What?” I asked gently, even though my insides still hadn't calmed down from Radmir’s incident, Lorenzo protecting her from me, and her reluctance.
“The rules stay the same. No touching until I say so.” With that, she plastered a fake smile on her face as the stewardess offered her a refreshing drink, and she gladly took it.
My instincts had never wronged me before.
Rosa was up to no good, but something told me I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.
An eye for an eye. She grew up with this law. It was almost a motto of life, so I wondered what kind of payback she had planned for me.
Man with the dragon tattoo
Watching Don lose his shit was an indescribable pleasure. Octavio, Jules Mark, and Lorenzo stood in front of him as he yelled his guts out at them. “How the fuck was my daughter snatched right under your noses with no effort? No gunfire? You just stood there like the fools you are and watched,” he huffed in frustration, his fist slamming against the table as men cast their eyes down, afraid of his wrath. “Now he’s taken her to fucking Russia? Why should I even keep your fucking asses alive?”
None of them spoke, because really, what could they say? Not being able to follow orders equaled death in the mob world. Don ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and addressed me. “Figure out what pulled the trigger on the pakhan’s temper.” Nodding, I stood up and closed the door behind me as a sinister smile spread wide over my mouth.
I passed Lucretia, who shied away from me. For some reason, she always disliked me, that fucking old hag.
I sat on my bike, roared the engine, pressed the button on the detonator, and rode quickly away, enjoying the fucking breezy wind on my face.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Kaboom!
Don’s house blew apart in a massive explosion, pieces of bricks scattered around the property, fire erupting and spreading through the garden, as car alarms echoed and black-as-dirt smoke rose to the sky, illuminating a clear view of what was happening. Screams of people who occupied the guesthouses or security blocks and those not exposed to the danger reverberated through the neighborhood.
What a beautiful sight, red and black colors entwined, destroying everything in their wake. The only thing I regretted was not being able to enjoy seeing all those lifeless bodies.
Kicking my bike to the side, I fell down to my knees, dialed the phone, and croaked into it as though my insides were dying, when in fact, I barely held in the laugh. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“Someone just blew up the house of Emmanuelle Giovanni.”
Rosa, Rosa.
One step closer to me. Because a girl would never live with the murderer of her father, even if he had nothing to do with it.
Feeling hard concrete under my back, pressing on all my wounds, I almost wept in defeat.
I thought I’d finally fucking died and escaped this prison. Was it all a dream? A dream in which I finally did something meaningful instead of being a victim all the time?
What the fuck did a fifteen-year-old boy have to do to get killed in this world?
Lifting my hand to my face, I frowned at finding a cloth under my fingers, and my heavy lids snapped open, only to close again due to the bright light blinding me.
