Clandestine | 18+

26~ Softness in storm

Art Deco- Lana Del Rey
________
"A devil's heart is evil, but even he softens on things he loves, his hell."

Alonzo Pierce

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I repeated the movement on the table, waiting.

I used to be a very patient man, always standing for business, nothing getting in my way. Now? My soon to be wife, who I hold the inheritance of because she's totally clueless, almost made me miss a meeting with the Bratva's head and also the underworld's. Clandestine, whether she likes it or not, is the queen of all.

I'm excited, to see how she will appear, or if she will at all. She risks her identity with us, so how she will work with us is a mystery still.

"Here you are." A chilly voice with a psychotic hint came behind me. Sometimes, I think he's making me look like a sweet candy.

I leaned back on the couch, getting out of my thoughts. Now I was aware of the music blasting on the speakers, the bright lights, the luxurious atmosphere.

I stared into his eyes. He's handsome, I'll give him that. But his looks only get him to a certain place, after women see how insane he is? How fucked up? They would run. I'd love to see the day where he looses his mind over a woman. Maybe it will never happen, but that's impossible. And I will laugh for the first time, truly, when I see his possessiveness.

"Not going to greet me, ice?" This fucking man. He's given me this nickname since the day he met me. He drew one side of his lips up, a light in his eyes.

"What have you done?" I asked him, moving a hand forward so he gets the sign to sit down.

He did.

As he sat, he titled his head a little, and that almost reminded me of Estelle. Fucking hell, why am I even thinking about her right now?

"You don't need to know what I did, you will see." His deep voice rumbled in his throat, like whiskey.

"Fuck, Nikolai."

"Will keep that in mind." His Russian accent popped up.

Jesus, this man.

A ring came from both our pockets at the same time, and we looked at each other.

"The fuck did you do?" I asked him again, my voice dropping, getting colder.

"I don't know, let's see."

We both got our phones from our pockets and I stayed still for a second.

Both our phones had the same format.

Password? We needed to put in our names to open it.

Home-screen? Clandestine communication.

We could text her, call her, see what information she had gathered on one of the apps, if we wanted more information about this situation we had to exchange some too.

"What the fuck?" He muttered.

"She has hacked our phones." I stared into his phone. "You fucker, what did you do?"