*Cal*It’s been almost a week since the fire, and every day I’ve been coming and going to the bar, sitting in the same chair in the corner, just across from the window where I can watch the bookstore that is now just a pile of ashes and burned wood on the other side of the street.The police surrounded the place with yellow tape, which in my opinion serves no purpose; it only attracts more attention than the burnt out building already did by itself.New Year’s is around the corner, and ever since I saved that woman on Christmas Eve, I can’t make myself relax or move past the explosion. To say I’m pissed would be an understatement.My men still haven’t figured out who attacked us, and even though I have my own suspicions, I can’t act on instinct. I need proof to make a move. I can’t afford to make more enemies by blindly attacking in the name of revenge.Ever since that day, I haven’t heard from “Book girl”. Hell, I don’t even know if she survived. She hasn’t come to check on the shop
*Heidi*I wasn’t planning on barging through the bar door across the street when I left my aunt’s apartment this morning. My initial goal was to stop by the bookstore and see if there was anything I could do to make the insurance company just give us the money faster so we can start rebuilding it as soon as possible, or at the very least, relocate. They are taking so long to get back to us, to let us know what can and will be done to help us rebuild the store. I don’t even know if they will pay us or not. I know that the end of the year is slow and bad to get things done, and no one is really making an effort to solve things quickly. Not to mention that getting someone to rebuild an entire establishment during the holidays won’t be easy. If possible at all.That’s why I’m getting so worked up and anxious.Other than the fact that I lost everything. That’s why, as soon as my eyes fell on what used to be my grandfather’s biggest achievement in life, an anger I’ve never felt before was
*Cal*I have never been good with people crying.Let alone women.To have Heidi sobbing in front of me was not something I was expecting to have to deal with after seeing how fiery and determined she looked a minute ago.I don’t know how to react. I don’t know what to do to make her feel better.The way the tears are pooling in her beautiful eyes is enough to make me want to go after whoever did that to her store and just make them disappear from the earth once and for all.It’s absurd how simply watching her cry is making me visit emotions I’ve never felt before.She is trying to be strong, wiping the tears from her eyes aggressively, but one more look at me, and all her walls break down.I glance at Ian, who is now pretending he isn’t even here, and I consider what to do. I don’t want to invade her privacy or do something she might find disrespectful, but I feel like she needs comfort right now.And if I can do that for her, it might be worth a try.“Come on, let’s have a seat,” I s
*Heidi*I would never imagine Cal to be the type of man who is attentive and kind while looking so intimidating and cold on the outside. If anything, I imagined him as a grumpy, arrogant, stupid man who thinks he runs the world and that everything needs to be done according to his rules and demands.But barging into his bar and crying in front of him–even though it almost made me die of embarrassment–has proven to be somewhat worth it. I’ve never been the type of woman who was the object of desire for any man. I did have some boyfriends here and there while I was in college, but none of them ended up forming a serious relationship. And all of them eventually cheated on me. Good thing was that I was never in love with any of them, so I can’t say I suffered immensely. But it did some damage to my self-esteem. No man has piqued my interest after I graduated, and it’s been like that for years. But something in Cal makes me feel different. The way his eyes drink me in makes me feel like
*Cal*Heidi follows me as I take her to my office. We stroll across the hallway, heading for the last door on our right. Our footsteps are the only thing I can hear as I guide her, her tiny frame following me closely.I’m trying hard to ignore how good she smells. Her sweet perfume inebriates my senses and makes it hard for me to think clearly.And I have to figure out what I can do for her now that she finally seems willing to accept my help.Seeing how defensive Heidi can get has turned me on more than I’d like to admit, but I can’t say I don’t like it. Ever since she crossed the doorway of my bar, she’s done nothing but surprise me.She yelled, cried, stood defensively and suspiciously before me, showing multiple sides of her in less than an hour. Teasing and flirting with her felt good, but considering how different Heidi is from the women I’m used to dating, I need to be cautious. And more respectful than ever. The last thing I want is to scare her away.Her retorts only added fu
*Heidi*Cal takes me to his office, and I find myself slightly suspicious while at the same time, an anticipation builds within me that has everything to do with the fact that he’s taking me somewhere private to have a conversation.While we were talking at the bar, his barkeep pretended he wasn’t listening to us, but I’m sure he was.Now, we’ll be alone in his office, and that seems… weird. I’m not supposed to be feeling like this. Cal is everything I should keep myself away from in a man. He’s handsome, intimidating, sexy, flirtatious, not to mention he’s mysterious in a way that keeps me wanting to know more about him. If the novels I read have taught me anything, I should know better than to want to have any kind of relationship with Call. I know I came after him for help, but in my defense, I had no idea who he was. After I was already here and made a scene out of myself, demanding to talk to him, well… I couldn’t back down.I’m waiting in his office, admiring his decor and the
*Cal*Having Heidi in the same room as me this entire time has proven to be nothing but a bad idea. Even though she’s left, her scent lingers in the air, which makes it almost impossible for me to focus on anything other than her right now.I’m glad she accepted my help. Giving her a new apartment isn’t the only thing I wanted to do for her, but it does lessen my guilt to know she’ll be safe and able to get back on her feet with a roof over her head.I wish things hadn’t gone bad for her in the first place, but since I have no control over the past, I might as well accept this is all I can do for her–for now.Sure, I can give her way more than just an apartment, but considering how hard it was for her to accept that, I doubt she will even listen to any other offers. I think I can get her to open up to me eventually, although I have to be patient and careful.She doesn’t seem to trust people easily, and I can’t pretend I didn’t notice how skeptical and suspicious she was around me the
*Cal*“What is it, Boss?” Sam asks, but his voice sounds distant and muffled.When he moves to stand in front of me, his eyes studying me cautiously, I realize I was so angry, I wasn’t paying any attention to him at all.“Who is it? What happened?” he insists, his gaze darting to my phone and back to my face.I turn the screen for him to see the picture, but by the way his brows crease, I can tell he doesn’t understand what it means.“This is Heidi leaving the bar,” I explain expressionlessly, my mind numb with a type of fury I’ve never felt before..I’m doing everything in my power to suppress the outrage threatening to overcome me.I shouldn’t have reason to be afraid for Heidi. If someone’s watching her, which is evident by this photo, I could, in theory, shrug it off as someone trying to bait me by thinking the hottest girl to ever set foot in my bar is someone attached to me. A girlfriend, perhaps. A mistress. It wouldn’t be the first time another group has pulled a stunt like t
*Tatiana*I feel like I must’ve gotten run over by a truck. My head is pounding so hard, I feel like vomiting, but even so, I force my eyes to open. There’s no light here except for a dim stream coming through a tiny window near the top of the wall in front of me, so it’s difficult for my eyes to adapt.There are strands of hair in front of my eyes and face, and when I lift my hand to push them aside, I realize my wrists are tied behind my back in what feels like a very thick, tight rope. My legs are also strapped to the chair, both my ankles tied. I can barely move.Panic starts creeping through me as I realize what’s going on. Images of the recent events flash through my mind, making me remember how I ended up here, wherever I am.I look from one side to the other, taking in my surroundings. Even though it’s dark and humid here, I spot some tools and boxes that make me think this has to be a basement. The place is quiet, and there seems to be no one around, although I doubt they’d l
*Angelo*“I’ve got her,” I inform the rest of my men who are all wearing earpieces. “I’m taking her to the car.”“Roger that,” Dice replies right away. “We’ll meet you there.”I toss the woman’s limp body over my shoulder and step out of the alley, ignoring the curious and frightened stares I receive from pedestrians bustling by on the street.The SUV is parked in front of the deli, and when Sal spots me, he climbs from behind the wheel and rushes to open the back door for me. I place the woman in the back seat—carefully, even though I don’t need to be—and go around to the other side so I can sit beside her. I buckle us both in and wait for the others to load up.Even though I knocked her out, and she probably won’t wake up in the next few hours, I still need to keep a close eye on her, just in case she wakes up and tries some funny business. I’ll watch her the entire way until we’re out of this part of the city and safe in our territory where we’re less likely to be attacked.“That w
*Tatiana*Getting someone to help me proves to be an almost impossible task, even once I wander into a populated area of New York City.I know literally no one in this city, and it’s not like I can trust anyone. While I’m fairly certain my adoptive parents had allies here, I have no fucking idea who they are or how to find them. Oleg must have eyes and ears everywhere, so it makes me hesitant to approach anyone.But in this dress, I’m an easy target for anyone who might be helping him. New York is a crazy place, but I’m probably the only woman in a bloody, ripped-up wedding gown on the streets today. If the mob doesn’t get to me, the police certainly will.My stomach is beginning to ache from the knot that formed in there weeks ago, but I force myself to take deep breaths. At least I’m able to hold back my tears–for now. My whole life turned upside down in a blink of an eye, and having to suppress my feelings so I don’t show my weakness to Oleg and Yakov has taken its toll on me.Pic
TatianaHow the hell am I supposed to escape this place when I have no fucking idea where I am? Running toward the back of the chapel seemed to make the most sense to me since the fighting is all happening at the front–at least for now–so I sprint toward the door the priest likely used and pray it’s unlocked.Thankfully, it is. I slam through it, looking around to ascertain if there’s any danger here. I see the priest huddled in the corner and almost roll my eyes. Hiking my skirt up, I take off toward a door I believe has to be an exit.“You shouldn’t go that!” he shouts. “They’re out there, too!”But my momentum carries me through the door before I can think, and I nearly run into a couple of Oleg’s men who are defending the back entryway against what appears to be another syndicate, one of the many groups of enemies Oleg has accumulated over the years, no doubt.“How the fuck did they find us?” one of the men in front of me shouts to the other in a thick Russian accent. I just have
*Tatiana*A tacky, overly poofy white gown hangs on the back of the bathroom door next to the full-length mirror. I take a deep breath and drag a hand down my face. How the fuck am I getting out of this?I hoped I’d have more time to escape, but this day has come more quickly than anticipated, and now, here I am. The fuckers got me to the church on time.“What do you think?” one of the maids who will be helping me get dressed asks, a timid smile on her face.Arching an eyebrow, I say, “I think I’d be better suited to black.”She laughs nervously and pulls the fancy frock down off the hanger. I have to assume this contraption cost thousands of dollars and was designed by one of New York’s biggest names in fashion.It’s a death trap to me.It would look so much better with a spray of vomit across the front.Telling myself I need to focus, I listen to the maids prattle on about how they’re going to do my hair and makeup and other such bullshit I couldn’t care less about.“This dress is m
*Tatiana*I spend most of my time in “my” room. Images of my parents bleeding out fill my mind, whether I’m awake or asleep. Even sitting by the window, staring out at the serene garden behind the mansion, I can’t shake the overwhelming sadness and revulsion that fills my body with every shuddering breath I inhale.No one comes into my room except for the maids–and that’s a good thing. When I have to see Oleg again, it will be all I can do to keep from lunging at him and trying to take him out right now. I will kill him–but I can’t be impulsive, or I’ll spoil my chance. Something tells me he won’t hesitate to kill me if he feels it’s necessary, regardless of all of his plans for me.No, I need to bide my time. Lie in wait. Strike when the timing is right.When I’m not picturing my parents’ pale bodies sitting in those chairs, I imagine what it will be like to kill him. That’s the only time I allow myself a bit of happiness, a small smile, when I think about what it will be like to hav
*Tatiana*As soon as the plane touches down at JFK airport, a wave of anxiety washes over me. This is my first time leaving my home country of Russia. I’ve spent my entire life looking over my shoulder, waiting for my asshole uncle, Oleg Romina, to show up and finish the job he started twenty years ago when he murdered my parents in cold blood. Now, he’s summoned the only parents I’ve ever known, Lev and Ilya Ivanov, to return to America. I insisted they bring me along, but as we deboard the plane, a sense of unease settles into my chest.My biological father, Petr Romina, used to be the boss of the Romina Empire, a smaller Russian mob that has territory in several countries, including New York where Oleg resides. When I was old enough to understand the kind of life our family used to have, Lev and Illya told me the truth about my parents’ deaths. My mother was my dad’s mistress, and when Oleg learned that they were planning on getting married, his greed made him murder both of them,
*Angelo*Sweat drips from my forehead into my eyes as I run through the streets, in too much of a hurry to even consider finding a car or waiting for someone to come and pick me up. Traffic would only slow me down, and I can’t afford to lose a single second.My heart beats so fast that my chest hurts. My legs grow weak as I try to push forward, shoving away the worst case scenarios in my head. I force my lungs to take in as much air as possible because I certainly need it.More than that, I need to be able to focus. I can’t risk making a single mistake. The streets are empty, proving everyone that says that New York City never sleeps wrong.I round a corner and see my final destination–but I’m too late.The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Several bodies litter the ground. I step over them, afraid to look down in case I recognize some of them. I can guarantee the person I’m looking for doesn’t lie among them.Some of the Saints men arrive right after me. I was nea
CalThe Basilica of St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral hums with excitement. Murmurs from the intimate crowd waiting in the pews whisper through the air, rising to the impressive ceilings as sunlight fans through the stained glass. I’m sweating balls in the tuxedo Tony insisted I wear. It fits like a glove–perfectly tailored–which Tony said was because his tailor is Italian, and they always know best. In fact, Tony’s wife, Chloe, and her mob wife minions put this wedding together for us down to the smallest detail. I don’t know half of the gathered crowd, but judging by the cheetah print and hair gel, most of these people are Saints in some way. The Irish Kings stand out, however, because they’re lining every exit–armed to the teeth. Tony stalks over to where I’m standing near the altar waiting for the ceremony to begin. He glances around, leaning in to say, “I’ve got guys outside.”“Thanks,” I grumble, tugging at my tie. He looks toward the crowd. I know he feels the same way I do abou