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Anastasia Lenkov wants to live a normal life as a nurse after escaping her old, brutal life. But her past keeps catching up with her. She is on the run from the Russian mafia, because her father, the boss, will n...
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"Great, we'll send you the contract soon. Thanks for the meeting." Manuel took a sip from his drink, "Antonio, how is your father?"
Hours must have passed since I arrived here.
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, "I haven't heard from him in a long time."
That wasn't a lie, I haven't spoken to him since the accident and since he passed the leadership of the Italian mafia to me.
"Understandable." Manuel had been one of my father's closest friends for years. His son Francisco often visited Italy as a child when our fathers were on business trips.
Raffaele and I have never had much respect for him.
The way he treats women and his whole behavior itself doesn't exactly invite to get along with him.
I didn't miss the way he looked at Anastasia and I don't like it one bit.
The glass she had received from him was undoubtedly filled with something that did not belong in it.
Unfortunately, he is the son of a very important business partner of mine and I cannot lose him. Lucky bastard, if it weren't for that, he wouldn't be sitting here so peacefully.
My gaze met Francisco's amused eyes, who spoke, "I heard about the meeting, which was a while ago."
I reached for the glass on the table in front of me and drank the last sip, immediately a woman came to refill it.
"What about it?" I looked at him sharply, and his father spoke, "We couldn't be there, unfortunately, and we heard some alarming things from our representatives. War with the Russians is not a good idea."
Francisco grinned, "There are rumors going around that you have the Lenkov heiress in your custody."
Both men looked at me questioningly and I leaned back in my chair, "I've thought it through. My men are tracking him down as we speak." I dodged Francisco's question.
It's not like it's any of the Spanish mafia's business. That's my concern.
The sound of a phone pierced the tension between us. Manuel clapped his hands, "You'll know what you're doing. Excuse me for a moment."
The old man rose from his seat, buttoned the button of his suit and left the room with his phone in his hand.
"So," Francisco swirled his drink in his hand, "Laura is a pretty girl."
I stared at him and one corner of his mouth curled up, "She seems quite respectable if even Raffaele is hanging out with her without trying anything."
As if anyone would have the nerve to mess with her.
"She's a close friend of the family." I reached for my glass again, something I often see myself doing around him. He's starting to get on my nerves.
He leaned back in his seat, "So you wouldn't mind if I-"
