CHAPTER 90 - MONICA

“You got what I asked for?”

Monica stood at the open door to the condo.

She glared at the dark, glowering man standing there. He looked as rumpled and grungy as Monica looked put together and clean. She sneered at him as if he smelled as bad as he looked.

“No.” His shaggy head bowed down, and he glared at Monica through dark shaggy eyebrows. “I have what you demanded.” He sneered, his lips curling on one side. “Take it and leave us alone until you have something we desire.” His hand wavered between them, holding an envelope that belonged in a hand such as his. Or at least, that’s how Monica saw it. He was as uncultured and rough as a feral dog. Hairo rested his other hand on the door frame. Monica didn’t like that either. To her, his hand invaded her space and left a residue of filth behind.

“Oh, please, it’s not what you want. You’re Ivan’s lapdog. Remember that.” Monica scoffed. She was Ivan’s favourite. Hairo was nothing but his lapdog. She couldn't fathom w