[ON GOING] All Of Me 18+ Only (Book 3 of Lastor series) #Wattys2020

Chapter 3

I sighed when I saw Georgiana's big stubborn ass sitting in my favorite seat as I entered the jet. I dropped my shopping bags on the table and took the seat across from her.

There was very little I missed from no longer holding a high rank within the family, probably the most I missed was making the insignificant Lastors fuck off at my command. Even at the lowest seat in the council, this brat was still effectively my superior and, lacking any authority over her, all I could do was cuss her out.

"Why the fuck are you still here?" I bit out. "You stupid or some shit?"

She kept her attention on the window. "I was ordered to observe you under the guise of being your protégé."

I scoffed. "Yeah, no shit, but I don't want to be your mentor anymore."

"I'm ordering you to continue mentoring me." She turned her head to look at me. "If you want to overturn my order, feel free to make a motion to the Head and, if it's accepted, the council will vote on it."

I chuckled humorlessly, slamming my fist on the table. "Gia, my fiancée isn't here to calm me down so you really need to stop pissing me off."

"If you draw my blood or threaten my life, you will be disowned."

"You fucking-" I groaned, gritting my teeth to keep myself from screaming. My lungs didn't deserve the suffering.

I pressed my fist to my forehead, taking a deep breath and visualizing how disappointed Rick would be if I beat the shit out of this brat. He liked Georgiana and thought it was adorable how she followed me around like an obsessed fan girl while acting all high and mighty. But it's been so long. Nearly a year, since I last felt the burning on my knuckles from tearing apart someone's face. It made my hands itch. One hit would be so satisfying, but then I wouldn't be able to play my instruments for a while and I promised Rick I wouldn't let him see me all bruised up ever again.

God fucking dammit.

"Tell me what you want from me, Gia," I said in resignation. "What can I do for you to stop fucking with my happiness?"

"Mentor me properly and I'll let you live out the rest of your freedom with not another mention of what's going on back home."

I took a deep breath, letting it out steadily. "Okay." I lowered my fist, looking at her. "But don't tell your Dad."

**********

I always loved Russia, especially its aggressive winters. Whenever I came here, I would feel so at home within its numbing embrace. There was nothing quite like spending an afternoon reading in a boat and finding solace in the cold. Right now, dealing with an active coup, being vigilant of potential assassins, and smoothing out the distress among my ranks, I couldn't appreciate the deadly wonder that was winter in Russia. It was pissing me off.

I felt something touch my arm and I flinched, drawing my wistful gaze from the window and turning to look at the table. Terrified, angry, and drunk Russian men were staring at me, some with clear murderous intent.

"Prostee menya," (Forgive me) I murmured softly, looking back out the window and watching the thick white snow enveloping everything in my sight. "Vasha strana ocharovatelna. Ya razocharovana tem, chto nahozhus v etoy komnate, vmesto togo, chtobi eegrat v cnegu." (Your country is mesmerizing. I'm disappointed that I'm in this room instead of playing in the snow.)

"Ona chto pod kayfom?" I heard one spit out. (Is she high?)

I chuckled, reaching into Katrina's holster and taking her gun as I stood. "Pochemu lyudee wsegda tak dumayut obo mne?" (Why do people always assume that about me?)
I headed to the window, pushing it open and sighing as the fierce winds blew into the room, slicing against every exposed skin on my body. "Zhal, chto nel'zya polnostyu otseneet chto-to, ne buduchee uneezhennim." (It's a shame that one can't appreciate something wholly without being vilified.)