Deadly Saints [18+]

018: Appearance

|Diavolo Tchenkov|

I couldn't decipher my own feelings especially with Varvara missing, her whereabouts remained unknown for two days until Niko barged into my office at the early hours of the morning.

"Aren't you suppose to knock?" I spoke, raising my eyebrow at his heavily breathing.

His hair dishevelled while his usual formal shirt was untucked, "She's not in Greece," he spat.

"THEN WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?" I yelled, standing up from my chair. The rage enveloping my body in immense heat that ached to kill.

"Nadrielle went with Zion and they spoke to Sebastian, she isn't in Russia either. Which means that she has been right under our main selling ground," Nikolai gritted, frustration evident in the thick layered words.

I ran my fingers through my curls, "Fuck, she has been in New York this entire time."

This made me itch for that bastard who thought he could take her away from me, we have been in New York and our time had been wasted just to gather that Varvara has been here.

"Tell them to catch a flight here, Now." I instructed.

"They will be here later, probably at midnight." Nikolai ensured.

"Good, because we need to come up with a plan to get her back."

|Nadrielle Wright|

If I didn't have this amount of control over my actions, I would reign destruction upon those Greek bastards. Many situations didn't affect me, emotions didn't cloud my judgement but fuck it did here.

They took her, Varvara. It aggravated me, taking the most kind-hearted person away from a family fill of sinners. The amount of rage that boiled my bloodstream, inwardly drowned my ears with the flow of my blood, each rapid heart beat echoing through my senses.

Three days since our last drop of information of her whereabouts, motherfuckers went under our noses and took her. Varvara had over thirty men guarding her inside the mansion and over twenty surrounding the land, those men ended up six feet under. Pathetic assholes couldn't do a simple job of keeping her safe, they didn't deserve to be in the family, I loathed those idiots especially people who couldn't do their job properly.

"So, are you going in there with a scowl on your face. Matching Diavolo's temper again?" Zion questioned while he walked next to me with his hands in his grey slacks.

Turning my head towards his calm voice, his features void of any emotions. Walnut strands fell upon his milky forehead, sparkling emeralds that where soaked in gold gazed upon me with concern. Zion, is the most agitated for the outcome of this situation. Chaos, those where the consequences of these bastard's actions, kidnapping our precious Varvara.

Zion is the oldest (friend) in the family, which is what made him the most determined to hold this fractured family together, even if it meant burning all those cunts to the ground.

My stomach did flips. It wasn't because of the outcome that would take place but rather the person that never failed to take residence in my heart. Others would view this as a petty crush, assuming the infatuation would dwindle. It is neither, nothing fizzled out of my heart and it wasn't a simply crush, not anymore.

When my gaze halted at his towering figure, the familiar vulnerable state drank in my essence. His features made me weak, the rush of adrenaline that courses through my veins outweighs my thrill to kill. He invaded my thoughts even when we are apart, I forgot how addicting those feelings would be, underestimating his power over me. The man couldn't decipher affectionate words, even when they didn't escape his lips.