Heart of Stone - Stone and Fire #1 [17+] (REWRITING)

Chapter 1

Adriana's POV

A row of black cars slunk the driveway, and I hitched my neck over the windowsill to try and get a better look. The house was swarming with guards, and slight chatter from below held my ears taught. The biggest giveaway, no doubt, was the weird feeling crawling through the air, under my closed door. I paced my room, debating whether Papa would tell me off if I decided to take a peek. 

The black rug cushioned my tapping feet. Condensation dripped down the large, two windows that took up almost a whole wall, and curiosity ate me like I was a cat nearing death.

Whoever was here, downstairs, with that much protection, probably meant he wasn't one of Papa's associates. Why would a friend of my father's need to be this cautious? Bruno, came once a month to check the books- but he had cleared this month's cache by showing up two weeks ago. Couldn't be any family.. Mama's brother had a tendency to barge in whenever he deemed necessary.  

That left the Boss, Francesco Romano, who would only dare to show up if my father had murdered his golden child- or worse- done something to satisfy the enemy. However, if that were the case, gunshots would be flying instead of the silence I heard.

Who could it be?

I pressed my ear against the door, forcing my breaths to silence. Papa made it clear a long time ago how sacred his position as the underboss was, and interrupting meetings was a hard, unescapable no. I chewed on my lip. 

Spying wasn't technically interrupting, was it?

I twisted the knob of my door slowly- Enzo had to have been downstairs too. Leo was probably off playing a hardcore game of basketball with his pals, and would come home after everyone was asleep. 

I stepped out into the large breadth of hallway, using the tips of my toes to cushion the small sounds of my feet. Aurora's door was closed, purple LED lights poking out from under the door. Thank God for that, because she would shut down my nonsensical idea with a flourish and drag me back to my room if she saw me acting like this. 

Then again, the tendency to bust my ass no matter the risk -or consequences-, I wouldn't call it surprising.

I stopped at the threshold of the stairs, black and white marble swirling a descent all the way down. It was a two-way staircase, paintings plastered against the grey wallpaper all the way down. I leaned over the railing, trying to see if there were any guards placed close to my escape route. 

There was a flash of black, and then I reeled back seeing a guard- right in front of Papa's study. He was bulky and muscular, with a crooked nose and thin, unfriendly lips pressed into a line. I could spy those features anywhere. My heart started to patter as I encountered the realization with wide eyes. 

There were bloody Russians in our house. 

Confusion dawned on me, curiosity growing by the second. As I descended, still unseen, something about the guard rang a bell in the back of my head. I couldn't quite place it.. but he looked very, very familiar.

I tuck it away, focusing on my mission. That's when it really dawned on me.. the enemy was here. 

I could even smell the foreign presences brimming the lower floor, expensive watches and sleek suits and clean-shaved jaws. Papa had only ever complained about them, the Russians, but he'd never told us about there being any potential with them. Now they took up half the house, regardless of how much everyone knew the grudge between Francesco and the Russian Pakhan was big enough to spark a war.

Even from my spot above the stairs I could tell they weren't here to sort it out.

The guard's eyes focused on something down the left hallway, where I would look first. I saw him take notice of his phone, and then he brought it up to his ear, finally turning right.

I took a deep breath and ran down the rest of the steps, keeping my body as light as a feather. Turning left, I relaxed at the sight of no guards, and glanced behind me to make sure the man was still talking on the phone. 

My head stayed positioned behind me, and I entered the living room with a calmer sense of accomplishment and a consummated grin on my face. 

And Papa says I can't work with him.

When I look up, the victory all but dissipates into thin air. 

A bubble of ice covers me in a chill, hairs on the back of my neck rising and heart churning into a meat grinder. 

Right there, in the middle of the room, stands a man with a name worth millions.

Nikolas Volkov.

Oh, fuck.

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OOOPP she got a lil too curious

cya cuties