𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒

𝐎𝐍𝐄

I clench my fist as my muscles as I run faster and harder on the treadmill in my sweat suit.

Going to the gym for me recently has improved my mental health. The gym was where I could relieve stress.

I started about a year ago at this new gym instead of sulking and drinking away my sadness.

Though I've been to various gyms, including the one at my brother's warehouse for training, it was never appealing to me. If anything, it gave me more stress as we had to do it. Everyone in the mafia has to be in the gym and then do training right after.

Being in the position I'm in, I'd have to do torture -training too and I've become good at it. Too good at it Christian would say. So that could be a stress reliever but not the healthiest option.

Most of the people in the gym had their headphones in and were inside of their own world, oblivious to what was going on in all of the surrounding areas.

No conversations and more silence only made me worry more about the things going on in my life.

I have been endlessly working to higher my position in Christian's old company and progress along since I've had to work for it and not get it given to me directly by my brother.

My meeting with the new CEO will be soon and I'm hoping I have landed the COO position.

I've never spoken to the CEO before.

The first one that was originally supposed to take over stayed for about a month and left then a new one replaced him and I have no idea who he is.

My phone blasted out its loud ringtone alerting me that my father was calling.

I almost roll my eyes. I haven't heard from the old man in weeks. He only came back from vacation two days ago and I heard it from someone else. He's been living it up in Bora Bora for a while. With a woman? Possibly.

He doesn't tell me and Christina shit anymore.

"Hello?" I answer after the fourth ring.

"Son. Where are you?"

"At the gym just past Lockwood. Why?"

I slow down my pass on the treadmill so I can concentrate on what he's saying to me.

"I need to speak with you urgently. I'm at home in my office and it's urgent. You hear me?" He stressed.

I nodded though he couldn't see it. "Fine."

I turned off the treadmill and glanced at the scores of how long I'd been running, calories burned etcetera.

A friend I made in the gym gives me a half smile that I return as I make my way down the elevator and into the car park.

I scoff. The old man couldn't even let me take a shower for some urgent business.

Once I reach my car and drive out, I give Cameron a call letting him know that if I'm late to our plans it would be due to my father and his antics.

After driving around in my silent car for a few minutes, I arrive at the manor and a guard opens the door for me.

"Thanks."

I park my car out front and give the keys to one of the men to re-park it for me by all the other cars in the garage and enter the home, my steps echoing through the marble floors.

I don't knock when I reach his office and I take a seat directly in front of him and raise a brow. "Father."

Dad rolls his eyes and plops a mint into his mouth. His wrinkly fingers ball into a fist and he narrows his eyes at me. "Don't father me. You have a problem."

"You or me?"

"Me. You. Us. This mafia." He sneered. "Sort.it.out."

I chuckle not being able to take him seriously. "Right. Well. I can't fix a problem I don't know anything about."

"You think this is funny do you?" He questions. "I bet you'll find this even funnier."

He pulls out an envelope and drops it in front of me and folds his arms across his chest.

I sigh and open the envelope carefully and when I do, my eyes narrow to photographs of me.

I clench my jaw.

Photos of me. And Emilia.

Two weeks ago. In the club together, entering the hotel together, one taken from a window with her bra almost off her body.

I throw them on the desk in front of me.

"Why the fuck do you have these and who sent it to you!?"

My father cracks his knuckles. "I believe someone is after us again. I'm not sure who. But someone is. I haven't informed Christian about this just yet. You know, with the newborn baby and all."

"Right," I say through gritted teeth but my eyebrows furrow, confused. "What do these photos have to do with anything though?"

My father chuckles like this is some Interesting show. "We'll grab me the popcorn because this is where it gets interesting."

I narrow my eyes at my father.

"That's Emilia Thompson. Daughter of the CEO you are seeing tomorrow. If he gets his hands on a picture of you with your hands all over his daughter, you're either back to square one or you're out entirely."

Shock races through my bones and my lips part in silent surprise.

I feel like someone has taken my lungs out of my body with the breath that has been held in me for so long that my throat feels tight.

Why am I just knowing this?

Daughter of the CEO.

Is that why Tate kept warning me off? Or was she being a protective friend?

Fuck.

"What do I do?"

My father throws popcorn into his mouth. "You tell me."

Anger gets thrown onto me like a ball to the head. "Where the fuck did you get popcorn from?"

"Found it in the drawer."

I clench my teeth and my father rolls his eyes.

"Depart from my office, Antonio. You got yourself into this mess. Fix it. And don't grumble around in my office. I have a massage booked at noon."

For fucks sake.