“Exactly.”
“But people you don’t want to talk about.”
My eyes narrow. “What’s with all the questions?”
“I’m curious and we’ve got six hours to kill. Is it really bad that I want to know about these strange people who are going to sneak us into Africa?”
“It’s not sneaking…” Sighing, I shake my head and wrap my phone between my fists. “I just had a life before I met you. Hell, it was a life before Anastasia.”
“I thought you were just managing clubs before Anastasia took over?”
So he’s done his research. Makes sense. “To an extent.”
“And the people in the club circuit are who are helping us?”
I can’t stop the bubble of laughter that rises. “No, although I would maybe pay to see those idiots try to help us.”
“So?” Cian drinks his water. “Who are they?”
“I… look, I don’t know how things worked in your world. Mafia families aren’t exactly known for their equality and Anastasia’s father was a tyrant. He was cruel and cold and probably the most unkind man I’ve ever seen. Anastasia was this quiet, powerful girl but she was still just his daughter. She was the only other girl I saw while growing up.”
“Can’t have been easy.” Cian’s brow dips deeply.
“It was life.” I shrug. “My father was the chef so I was mostly overlooked, but everyone under that tyrant’s rule was expected to know how to fight. I hated it at first. It was exhausting and I was tired of being in pain all the time, but my own father?” My cheek throbs with the distant ghost of his fist. “He wasn’t kind either. He had his own agenda for a while and so I did work for him. When it turned out I was actually a decent fighter, I worked for everyone. Anyone who had trouble. Anyone who needed money collected or a debt called in, or a threat made. I was sent because no one would suspect someone like me to be the problem.”
“Damn,” Cian mutters. “I gotta say, if you turned up on my doorstep and I didn’t know you, I think I’d be scared.”
“That’s because you know me,” I say with a smile. “And I’m nice to you.”
“This is you being nice?”
“Fuck you.” We laugh softly. “For a while, all the work that took me away from the clubs was actually fun. I hated being at homeand working in the clubs was okay, but it was so boring. I’m not a paper pusher. I like being active.”
“I can tell.”
Rolling my eyes, I slide from the bed. “Come on, if we’re going to talk more about my past, then I can’t do it on an empty stomach.”
Arm in arm to blend in, we wander through the streets of Greece, melting through crowds like we belong here. The weather’s getting warmer and the sinking sun turns the city into a wonderful place of gold light, soft gray cobbles, and flowing music. Restaurants spill out onto the streets with their loud laughter, good music, and mouthwatering smells. Cian and I eventually choose a small restaurant tucked away in the corner of a street where the noise is just enough to hide us but not enough to overwhelm.
“Are you sure you can handle some authentic Greek food?” I smirk at Cian over my menu. “Aren’t the Irish kind of famed for not having the greatest taste palate?”
“One, you’re thinking of the English and two, I grew up in America,” Cian shoots back immediately. “You’d get away with a greasy fast food joke. Maybe.”
“Alright, alright. My mistake.”
“I’d ask the same of you but if your father was a chef, then I’m sure you tried all sorts of stuff.”
“Not really. His focus was on the Russian family, not me. Half the time, he treated me like an inconvenience and the other half, I was only useful if it directly benefited him.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Cian frowns deeply once more. “I just sort of assumed…”
“Yeah, most do. I worked the clubs and my father was the cook. How terrible could things really be?”
“I don’t think there’s any kind of competition in our line of work.” Cian falls silent as the waiter appears and we order a few appetizers to start. After he leaves, Cian leans one elbow on the table and looks at me with genuine concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry you had a rough time with your father.”
“Russians are cold and cruel,” I reply with a smile. “And my father had goals. Goals that changed often, and he didn’t care how it affected other people. However, the people I helped or worked for are the ones who owe me. I’d started taking the jobs no one wanted to take, the really dark fucked up ones. Kidnap. Torture. That sort of thing. I didn’t enjoy it but it was like…” Wrinkling my nose, I relax back in my chair. “I knew these people would owe me and after my father died, at the time, I had other ideas. But then Anastasia killed her father and slaughtered all those generals, and suddenly, I was Underboss. My priorities shifted immediately because she was the only person who treated me likeIwas a person, y’know?”
“I understand.” Cian nods. “I don’t know all the details of what went down in your family, but Anastasia seems to have been taking you all in a good direction.”
