Cassandra de Ville

Chapter 13

Cassandra's eyes sparkled with mischief as she asked, "So, Roman Volkov, one of the leaders of a powerful mafia in Russia. Might I ask what you are doing here?"

Roman smirked as he took in Cassandra's outfit, a white sleeveless business dress paired with white heels, and noticed her mockingbird necklace - a gift from her parents on her 10th birthday.

"White always looks good on you," he complimented, prompting Cassandra to laugh slightly before turning serious again. What is he trying to do?

"Enough of this, Volkov. What on earth are you doing here? You don't walk into territory without permission. Do you have a death wish?" Cassandra's tone was sharp as she got up from her chair and stared out at the dimly lit city, taking a deep breath, wondering what was going on? How dare he come here? She thought.

"We have some business here," Roman said softly into her ear as he circled his arm around her waist and turned her to face him. His brown eyes met hers, but Cassandra sensed he was hiding something.

She immediately pushed him away and glared at him.

"How dare you touch me? And what business, I think murdering people for power and money?" she asked, her blood boiling in anger.

"Well, I have a bad habit of touching anything nice and as for your next question, we don't murder people," he said, smirking slightly, making her reach for her waistband for her gun which she had safely tucked in for situations like this. But before she could pull it out, he spoke again.

"I can assure you I came in peace to meet you," he said, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you want?" she asked in a serious tone.

"Just to talk with you," he said, going back to sit in the chair, and Cassandra, knowing she had to go through this, followed him and sat in front of him.

"You want to talk, then talk," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her insecurities rising up.

"Okay, but you look like you have a hell lot of questions for me. Why don't we play a game? What do you say?" he asked as he lit a cigarette again. This man is so going to die from lung cancer.

"Sure, let's get on with it, shall we?" she said, her eyes not betraying any sign of fear.

"Ladies first," he said.

"Ohh, what a gentleman," Cassandra said, mischief clouding her eyes.

"Sure, I am Ms. De Ville. Now please, your question," he said, smirking.

"Oops, looks like someone's impatient," Cassandra said, prompting a chuckle from Roman.

"What are you and the other Russian Mafia families doing here in Italy?" she asked, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. This guy is obviously a playboy.

"Ahh, we're on vacation," he replied casually, causing Cassandra's cheeks to go red in anger.

"Don't play with me, just answer my question," she said, and he just shook it off, saying it's his turn.

"Alright, my question is... hmmm... okay, why are you so hellbent on finding out why we are here? I assume you have other things to do," he said, and Cassandra stared at him. Is he serious?

"Because you are a real threat to us. That's why I'm so hellbent on finding out why you are here," Cassandra said, venom dripping from her voice.

"Ohh, you think we are the threat. I don't think so, Cassandra," he said, and she glared at him. Something about this statement felt off.