He is a force to be reckoned with. A lift of his finger & people are beheaded in seconds. A word from him & the streets of NY are bathed in blood. Any evil deed, you name it & he has done it. Vicious, nefarious, brutal & downright cruel. Majestic in...
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(I want 60 votes, 20 quotes, and 120 comments for next chapter. I need immediate comments on each para. Don't forget to read the note at last)
Anastasia's POV~
Dino and I stand outside Alessandro’s office, arguing over who should go in first. Our bickering is cut short when the door swings open, and Damien steps out, bringing an abrupt end to our pointless debate.
He stops beside me, giving my head a little pat. “His mood is off. Good luck.”
My heart sinks at his words, but Dino pulls me closer, rubbing my arm in reassurance. “Do not worry, Dami. I am with her. We will manage.”
Damien’s frown deepens as his eyes shift to Dino, his expression hardening. “Stai giocando con il fuoco, ragazzo. Non bruciarla insieme a te.”
(You are playing with fire, boy. Do not burn her along with you.)
Dino's arm slips from around me, and he coughs out a reply. “I do not know what you mean. I am not doing anything.”
“Per il bene di entrambi, prego che sia vero,” Dami says, his voice tense. “Perché sai come si comporta con lei.”
(For the sake of you both, I pray that is true,) (Because you know how he is about her.)
“Mi stai minacciando, Damien?”
(Are you threatening me, Damien?)
“No, ti sto solo avvertendo come anziano. Se hai in mente quello che penso, lascialo perdere subito. Finirà male.”
(No, just a warning from someone older. If you are thinking what I think you are, drop it now. It will end badly.)
Heated glares are exchanged between them until Dino grasps my hand and pulls me forward. “Come on, Ana. We are getting late.”
As I glance back, I catch Damien watching Dino with a wary look, but his eyes become gentle when they meet mine. I give him a tight smile before stepping into the office behind Dino.
The moment my gaze lands on Alessandro, my breath catches in my throat. My feet freeze at the doorway, refusing to move an inch, bracing for his anger, for the inevitable reprimand I can feel coming for daring to invade his space.
He is in a navy suit today. The jacket is hung on the back of his chair while the waistcoat clings to his body, accentuating every wrong detail — wrong because it should not look so good on him when I am not allowed to touch him even though I ache to.
