Gaia Azzaro
I was the mafia princess of the Camorra but only in the eyes of the world. There was never anything special about me, except for my top of the world flaws. I was invisible my whole life until the Brigadier (Capo) of the Russian Bratva se...
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Greed, logic, reasoning, it has to come to you naturally or should generate that skill with so much hard work that it has to come naturally to you, if you wanna succeed in life. In mine, there were no second chances. And always that threat looming above my head that at any point in time a bullet can come my way. Many men in the bratva would deny fearing death, but I always feared death. Dying before meeting my soul, Gaia. Dying before knowing what it felt like to have her in my arms, and the greed is still growing because I want to know more, feel more, live more for her. Perhaps that's why my sixth sense was stronger. I was 13 when I was taken with the team to attack the other group of men that were trying to emerge as the Bratva. It was too easy from what I had pictured. I tried to warn the other soldiers, but for them I was still too young to speak my mind.
I had to keep going toward what it turned out to be an ambush. I had heard hundreds of gunshots while covering behind a cement partition, heart plummeting so loud I feared I would die of heart stoke before the bullet could lodge in my body. All those fears seem nothing compared to the one I feel the moment the elevator doors to the penthouse slid open. My feet pounded on the marbled floor as I thunder toward the bedroom. The security wasn't breached. I had made sure everything was secure and told Gaia last night that her gilded cage was actually a panic room and she'll be safe in there.
Instead of realizing how much I had worried about her safety, she asked.
"How many people know I am being held captive here? I mean, what if you get stabbed in an alley? I will be stuck in here forever, eating my flesh." She shrieked, throwing her arms in the air.
And even teased me this morning. "Don't die on me, Bogdan." She will rip me in half with the anger in her eyes if I ever confess that I love her stutter. Her calling me different Russian names, taunting me, teasing me as no other woman had ever done. Her stutter fades all sorts of anger that struggles to escape me.
Hands covered in sweat, I put the key in place and twisted the knob. Fury tore through me when I saw the mess inside the room. The couch was toppled over, the smaller stuff looked they were slammed across the room. The bed sheets have been torn apart, the blinds covering the floor to ceiling wall were shattered in some places. But those fucking fairy lights are blinking, mocking me to act on my rage.
"Gaia!" I roar. The bathroom door creaked open and slowly Gaia padded out, glancing at me sheepishly.
"Honey, you're home." She chirps, smiling at me with a small hope in her eyes that I would also accompany her attempt to make a fucking joke out of this situation.
My gaze slid toward the broken blinders, then back at Gaia, catching her lips as she mumbled 'Peaky blinders' and chuckle.
"What the fuck have you done, Gaia." I growl, curling my fist in anger.
"What? No calling me the Russian mouse today." She teases, flipping her wet hair back, her lips snapping shut upon noticing that my gaze holds no humor in them. Not this time, myshka.
