I set down the phone and leaned back.
The cigar burned slowly between my fingers, smoke curling in the lamplight. I stared at the ceiling, my mind full of her—those green eyes, those kissable lips, that badly disguised but unstoppably defiant look.
The little thing was hooked.
Now I just had to reel her in slowly.
I stubbed out the cigar and closed my eyes.
Today would be interesting.
"Pakhan,the Romanov family demands that tomorrow we must..."
"Let them wait." I cut off Ivan's report, checking my watch—7:20. "I have more important business."
Ivan paused.
He'd followed me for ten years, rarely seeing me prioritize anything over business. But he quickly composed himself and nodded. "Yes, sir."
That's why I valued him. He knew when to ask questions and when to shut up.
After sending Ivan away, I walked alone through the streets.
The night wind was cold, cutting like knives across my face, clearing away the day's lingering alcohol and cigarette smoke. New York winter nights were always like this—brutal, icy, merciless.
I took a shortcut through a quiet alley—the fastest route to where I'd parked.
That's when I heard voices from deep in the alley.
Crude laughter and a woman's angry shouts.
"Let me go! You bastards!"
That voice... was Anna.
I froze instantly, every nerve in my body tensing.
What was she doing here? It was forty minutes before our meeting time—why was she in this alley?
Following the sound, I saw three drunk men cornering her against a wall. One gripped her arm while the other two blocked her escape. They reeked of cheap vodka and sweat—I could smell it from several meters away.
Flame-red hair glowing even in the dim light. She hadn't disguised herself today, just simple jeans and a shirt, looking clean and fresh. Which made her current struggle and the terror in her eyes seem more real—like a young deer trapped by predators.
Rage flared from my core. My property—when had this trash earned the right to touch it?
I strode over, my footsteps echoing sharply on the stone pavement in the quiet alley.
"Let her go." My voice was colder than New York's frozen winter lakes.
The three drunks turned irritably. Seeing me alone, their faces twisted with aggression. "Get lost! Mind your ownbusiness!"
I ignored them, looking past them to Anna. She saw me too, those beautiful green eyes flashing first with shock, then with an unconscious dependence—a silent plea for rescue.
"Alexander..."
She said my name.
Softly, but like a match igniting the violence I'd been suppressing.
