The Mafia Boss's Rose

Chapter 7

Finding out that they are my grandparents was absolutely earth shattering for me. I had just stood there, trying to catch my breath. I had thought they were dead, mom hadn't talked about them often but when she did it was always with the same endearment that her father had spoken of her. Maybe she stayed silent to protect them? I don't know. I stayed with them for the night, talking about my life and where I was now. My grandmother baked me cookies and made me tea, we just talked for hours. They had so many questions. I'm a quiet person so they didn't get much out of me but they were just thankful to have seen me. I stayed until late the next night which is when my grandfather, per my request, drove the boat to the pier I had met the MI6 guy on.
"Thank you!" I say giving him another goodbye hug.
"Please come back anytime you can." He says and I smile at him.
"I will!"
"Your just like your mother. Always wanting to find adventure." Smiling, I hop off the boat with Rosco by my side and we head back to the apartment.
I walk inside and turn the light on. I can feel someone's presence, pure panic seeps through me and I freeze. I realize after a few seconds that someone is sitting on my bed. Rosco jumps up and lays his head on his lap. Rosco doesn't get to rest for long though because the Don of the Russian mafia stands up and stalks toward me.
"What did I say about going out alone at night?!?" He's clearly pissed off at me and I have no idea why.
"Why does it matter!" I yell.
"Because you're going to get hurt!" He keeps walking towards me until my back hits the door. He puts his arms on either side of me and leans in close.
"So what?!?! So what if I do?!?" His anger rising is apparent by the way his jaw ticks, sending a jolt of fear through me. Suddenly he goes to back up, leaning into his arms to push himself off the door. I flinch instinctively, thinking he's going to hit me.
At that he looks terrified,
"I'm not going to hurt you. Damn it!" he says running a hand through his hair as he starts to walk farther into the room.
"Get out." I say almost in a plea.
"No, not until I know your safe."
"IM FINE! GET OUT!!!" I yell, full out at him. He spins around and comes back towards me. I flinch again and he freezes, this time the worried look is also curiosity.
"It's not because of me is it? It's not because I'm in the mafia or because I terrify the shit out of people." He slowely starts putting the pieces together and walks up to me. I slowly back up and this time I'm turned to back into the kitchen. He follows me until I hit the counter. He still walks towards me and I pull myself up so I'm sitting, to get even further from him.
"It's okay, honest I'm not going to hurt you." He whispers ever so delicately, tears run down my face. He wipes them away with his thumb and he leans on my knees.
"Just breath, tell me what happened." I shake my head, whipping my hair from side to side. I can't let him know the truth, he'd kill me. Nobody can ever know. I try to take deep breaths but I can't find any air. Suddenly he picks me up and I hit his chest with my fists repeatedly. He sets me down on the bed and covers me up. I try to refuse.
"Stop it, just trust me." He harshly whispers. He sits down next to me and pulls me into him. I refuse to trust people but I'm so sick of running. Against even my own wishes I let the drowsiness take over so I curl into his chest and fall asleep.
I wake up alone. There is sunlight coming in the windows and I look at my clock to find out it's 6:30. I actually feel refreshed, as if I got some sleep for the first time in a long time. I look around the room and notice that I can still smell his cologne wafting through the room. I lay back down for a few minutes and remember everything that had happened. I can't figure out why he cares, doesn't he bring death and destruction? Shouldn't he be killing me for knowing to much?
I get up, shower and get dressed for my new job. Bringing extra clothes like I was told, Rosco and I head for the gym. I walk in and not a single eye turns towards me. All of the men are working out and I notice, feeling like an idiot, that every single one of their tattoos is Russian. Those rumours are most likely true about underground fighters working out here because the Russian mafia has cops on their pay roll.
I walk in and see the Don standing there talking to the manager. The manager looks afraid for his life and all of the men look busy. I see Beth standing behind the counter and ask her where I should go. She nods her head and leads me into a small change room that says girls on the front of it. It looks clean compared to the rest of the place and there is a row of lockers lined on one wall. There is a window that I make a mental note of in case I need a quick escape. I pick a locker and shove my stuff inside. She walks out and I follow her.
Near the change room door is a set of double doors that she shoves open. Inside is a ring and there are punching bags surrounding it. I give her a weird look because she hands me two boxing gloves and tells me to wait there. When she leaves the room I throw the gloves on the ground and walk up to the nearest punching bag. I start a rhythm of punches in an old pattern, throwing some kicks into it before I hear the door open.
I can feel his gaze and sense his presence before I ever have to see him. He walks up and puts his hands on my waist to balance me as I continue my pattern. That simple action causes my breath to hitch.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm not letting you train one of my guys." I stop and turn to face him, he drops his hands and I stand a few feet away.
"What, don't you trust my fighting?" I smirk at him,
"No and I also don't trust my men."
"You don't trust your own men?" I raise an eyebrow at him, I don't understand how someone could run an empire on an unstable basis.
"I trust them with my life, just not with you."
"What am I some sort of threat?" He chuckles and steps closer. I take a step back and he freezes shoving his hands in his pockets.
"No," he shakes his head at me and I raise my eyebrows wondering what could be the big deal about me training his men.
"So what than?" I throw my hands up in the air and let out a frustrated sigh. I turn and walk up to the ring, going in.
"You want to spar?" He never answered my question.
"Why don't you want to let me train your men?" I say in an annoyed tone.
"You need to wrap your hands." Are you kidding me? Why won't he answer my question?!
"Answer my question!!"
"No." I glare at him and he just smirks at me, finding my attitude amusing.
"I'm so sick of you saying that!" I huff and continue to glare.
"Get used to it."
"What's the point in me even working here then? If I can't train them what am I supposed to do?"
"Well for starters you can spar against me because you're the only person who will."
"I wonder why." I say throwing my hands up in the air once again.
"Because I always win that's why," I suddenly am thrown back to the first time I tried to fight Riccardo, the hit he'd landed on my ribs which broke a rib. It'd hurt so badly I'd almost left him then. I had known he'd get me hurt, I just hadn't realized he'd hurt someone else.
"You alright?" He's noticed the look that has most likely crossed my face at the memory. I nod my head.
"Fine I'll do it." I say taking on the challenge. He raises his eyebrows at me.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah but you'd better also pick another fighter to practice because I'm a quarter of your weight and not that skilled."
"You looked fairly skilled when you hit my punching bag." I roll my eyes him.
"Alright are we doing this or not?" His smirk is the only answer needed.
"Sure but you're taking the first swing."
"Am not."
"Yeah you are, I'm not about to hurt you."
"We're gonna spar and your not gonna hurt me?" I raise my eyebrows wondering what dreamland he's living in.
"Exactly, take the first swing."
"No!"
"Yes,"
"No, and I'm not gonna keep arguing with you about this! If you don't want to fight than we won't." As I go to leave he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls my back up against his chest. He leans his head down and puts it in my hair, inhaling deeply. I can feel his muscles underneath his shirt and I am torn between leaning into him and getting out of the situation.
"Get off me!"
"Make me,"
"I'm not taking the first swing!"
"Yes you are." I turn around to try to argue with him but instead he leans his forehead against mine. I take in a deep breath of him, musky oak and sweet cigars, it overwhelms my senses making it hard to think. It's not strong, just a gentle scent which instantly calms my racing heart.
"Because I can't hurt you," his whisper brushes against my lips which makes me forget everything around me and causes me to have to fight the drive to lean in and kiss him. I pull out of his grasp, needing to clear my murky head. He lets me go and I wander to the side of the ring.
"Why? Your the Don of the Russian mafia! How can you not hurt me?" I don't understand this, I've never met someone who not only refused to hurt me but they insisted that I am protected at even the cost of their own life.
"Why do you want me to hurt you?"
"Because, because," I turn around exasperated flinging my hand out as if that'll just make the reason pop into my head. I don't know how to say it, or that I want to. I just need to know that I'm wrong, I need to know that this feeling that he's a good guy is wrong.
"Because you want me to be a bad guy so you can run?"
"I-"
"No, I won't hurt you. Even if I wanted to, I don't think I ever could." His grey eyes meet my blue ones and there's only silence in the room.
"I can't, I can't, I can't-"
"Take the first swing," I shake my head back and forth.
"Do it or I'm gonna grab you again." I keep shaking my head but he walks towards me anyways.
"Hit me."
"No! I can't!"
"Yes you can! Your mad use it!"
"No!" I yell and he still stalks forward. He suddenly reaches out for me and I do exactly what he tells me, I swing for his face. He dodges, once, twice three times.
"Fight me like you mean it."
"No! I don't want to hurt you!" At that he chuckles softly.
"You aren't going to hurt me."
"Yes I will!"
"No, you couldn't even if you wanted too." He says it in such a discriminative tone that it pisses me off and I land good hit on the right side of his chest. My fist hits pure muscle and I pull my hand back. I look up at him and he smirks at me. All of a sudden he spins me around so that I'm in a choke hold. He holds me so closely I can feel his abs beneath his shirt.
"Get out of it." He whispers into my ear.