Carlotta Angela Vasiliev is a 17 year old girl living with her adoptive Russian mafia family of 4 brothers and father. Ever since she was a child, she's had no sense of belonging, abused by the Swedish mafia in her youth, her Russian saviours are th...
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"My mother?" Apollo scoffs, before looking down at me seriously, "All you need to know about her is that she's dead. Thanks to Evangelos." He sneers, and I try to contain my anger.
I can see Mateo visibly stiffening beside me, obviously not aware of that piece of information.
I sigh and roll my eyes, "Look Apollo," I begin, and he narrows his eyes at me, "This is important, please my future literally relies on you not being a dickhead right now." I stress, and he seems to understand what I'm getting at.
I need to break this dumb contract.
Apollo huffs, and scratches the back of his head, "What do you want to know?" He asks unenthusiastically, but giving in nonetheless.
I sigh an internal sigh of relief and look up to him, "Tell me about her before she met your father." I say, knowing I'm being incredibly invasive, but it's for the greater good.
He bristles a little at my question, "I don't that much to be honest, she was very closed off about her childhood." He says and I ponder his response. "She grew up in Columbia though, living with her mother and father and like 12 siblings." He says, looking bored.
He looks down at me, waiting for my reaction to anything he's said, but I process his words.
"You say she lived in Columbia?" I ask and he nods suspiciously, "Her mom and dad, your grandparents," I clarify, "Who were they? Were they Columbian?" I inquire, standing a little straighter, trying not to get my hopes up at the prospect of being onto something.
"Pfft," Apollo breathes out, "I never met them. Any of her family for that matter. But she told me her dad was Greek and her mother Columbian, my grandfather having married her after they met in Athens." He shrugs, and I rack my brain for any useful information.
Shit, it's on the tip of my tongue, I swear.
What the fuck were the minor details of the contract?
I had to marry Evangelos... Uniting Russia and Greece... Russian mafia princess... Heir of pure Greek blood-
Holy fuck.
"Apollo, your mother must have kept documentations of her family, birth certificates, passports?" I ask, and he stands up a little straighter, furrowing his brows at me.
"The fuck do you want those for? Hell no, I'm not digging for that shit." He waves off, looking irritated.
He makes the move to shove past me, but I push him back a little, taking him by surprise and he stumbles back to stand in front of me.
"It's either that or I marry your brother." I say, looking up at him.
His eyes darken and his jaw clenches. He looks to his side, seeming to contemplate his options.
