Natasha's POV My phone rang and it was Olivia calling. She was finally here with drugs and first aid."Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lorenzo asked, his breathing was getting worse by the minute and his eyes were closing. He was losing way too much blood fast."I'm sure. I trust Olivia. She's my friend."Lorenzo nodded and left the shed.The shed was far from the hotel building, past the second swimming pool and at least almost a mile from the hotel buildingclose to an amusement park that had been closed for years. That had been abandoned for years. Nobody would think to look for us there.I saw Olivia and waved at her. She rsb towards me and gave me a big hug."Oh, my God you are okay!" She cried."I am." I hugged her back."I thought something happened to you. Do I called Luca, I'm sorry." She was almost on the verge of tears which shocked me because I had never seen her cry before."It's okay, Liv. Thank you." She let go of me ad wiped her eye, her blue eyes staring into min
Lorenzo's POV "You are free to go. You have recovered enough to move around." My doctor said to me five days after I had been rushed to the hospital.I hadn't seen any signs of Natasha in two days but Alejandro never stopped visiting me.I suspected Natasha was going through some shit herself that was why. I couldn't wait to see her. It had been forty eight hours of not seeing her beautiful face."Thank you doctor." I said to him and stood up."I'll send you what I owe you." I informed him and left his office with the drugs and painkillers he had given me.Alejandro was waiting for me outside the doctor's office. He immediately stood up when he saw me coming outside."Hey Boss, are you free to go?" He asked."Yeah, thanks Alejandro." I said to him,"For what?" He questioned, looking confused as always."For not betraying me." He stared at me and smiled."Brothers don't betray brothers." He said and I smiled at his statement. For a goof ball, he was incredibly fucking smart."Alrigh
NATASHA “Ayoo Natasha! Where you goin'?” Phil's voice was loud over the club song. That was no surprise, he was a whopping seven-foot Jamaican male who weighed nothing less than three hundred pounds. One look at those hulking eyes and no one in their right senses would mess up. But this was a nightclub. Half the crowd here were definitely not in their right senses, they were either drunk or high on shit. “It's twelve, Phil,” I yelled back. “My shift ended.” “Nuh-uh, not if I say so, missy,” He tsked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Get your pretty ass back here. I've got some special guests comin" “They can serve themselves! I'm not doing shit!” I blew him a kiss and as quickly as I could, moved out of the door. Working as a waitress in a nightclub wasn't exactly every girl's dream. And perhaps if I was the average American, I would share the same sentiment. But I sure as hell did not. I looked like the typical American bimbo. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and tall enough for
NATASHA “Have you gone mad?” I asked, staring at Luca in disbelief. He glanced around him, then back at me. “I assure you, I am perfectly sane.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No you're not. If you were, you would not ask me to do the impossible.” “Oh please,” He sniffed haughtily. “You infiltrated the navy and killed off three commanders. Nothing is impossible for you.” “It was two commanders and a colonel!” I defended, my brows furrowed. “And they are nothing compared to Hell, and you know it! No one even knows who he is!” Luca nodded, pursing his lips. “True. And that is precisely why I'd like to hire you.” Hire me? Oh yeah, he had definitely lost his mind. “This isn't hiring. You threatened me into working for you!” The Italian brute shrugged and straightened. “Hiring, threatening, same shit, Vera. Look, I traveled down from Italy to find you. If anyone can uncover Hell's true identity and get rid of him while at it, it's you.” “I don't want to,” I told him, shaki
LORENZO “Guess she really wasn't a stripper Boss,” Alejandro, one of my men, said as I slipped back into the VIP booth. They all had amusement scrawled all over their faces. Clearly they had enjoyed the spectacle I had caused with the vixen. The blonde-haired vixen. I settled into my seat, rubbing my jaw as I watched her serve drinks to other customers. I had no idea why she enthralled me. When she had brought our drinks earlier, dressed sexy in that fucking short dress, the first thought I had was to bury my face in those pert breasts. They looked perky in her dress, bouncing slightly when she moved with rigor. I was not made of fucking wood. Of course, I got attracted. We'd just rounded up a damned case of greedy bastards on her trail in the past few days. I hadn't had a willing woman to slake my lust on in almost a week, and she had presented herself. Stripper or not, she was a woman and all women had their prices. Except her, it would seem. She hadn't considered my offe
NATASHA “That bastard!” I yelled to no one in particular as I walked down the road that led to my home. Oh, I was infuriated. I was mad. I was so angry, and yet, I was incredibly turned on. I was a mess! I hated how pompously he acted, assuming that I enjoyed his touch. I hated even more that I really had enjoyed the touch. My head tingled as I recalled the way he had grabbed my hair. It had felt thrilling, I could swear I felt myself grow slick with desire. I couldn't help it, really. One minute I was furious with him, the next minute, I found myself wishing he would rip my top apart and just touch me where I needed him. My nipples begged desperately for his attention. For his hands. “Stop thinking about him!” I snapped at myself, quickening my steps home. I had to see Alisa. But before I did, I needed to take a bath and change into something presentable. My sister would lose her marbles if I stepped into her giant house wearing tattered jeans. I stepped into the house, took
NATASHAShit. She saw right through me. I must have made it obvious with all my whining about how i would always keep her safe. I should have held my tongue. What the hell was I thinking?!"Alisa," I called, trying to reach for her, but the fear in her eyes slowly shifted into something much more. Something that struck my heart and dug deep. Resentment. My sister resented me. It was clear on her pretty innocent eyes. In the way she stood defiantly, her shoulders square as if to steel herself for whatever would happen next. I glanced at her husband to see a sad judgemental look on his face and felt my gut twist in pain. "Alisa, please, I'll be fine.""No you won't!" She screamed, stepping away from me. "Don't you know about Karma? Bad Karma Natasha. All yhose people youve killed, all the countless lives you've taken, they'll come back to haunt you, mark my words!" "I wouldn't do this if I didn't have a choice-""Don't give me that bull," Sh
NATASHA"Bastard," I grumbled, tossing the phone on my ratty mattress and trying to fish out whatever clothes were manageable from the tiny heap of clothes I had. It wasn't that I couldn't afford more clothes, or better ones. Alisa had worried for two years, asking me why I didn't move somewhere more comfortable, or get better clothes or at least refurbish the ratty apartment I lived in. I told her I didn't mind it and I wasn't lying. I really didn't. In the mafia, I was trained to live on less. For two whole years, I wore the same pair of clothes. Black jeans, torn and ragged with age and a black top. I performed all my assignments in them. No matter how much I washed them, I could always smell the heavy stench of blood.It lived around me, surrounded me like a halo. A constant reminder of who I was and the work I had done. The work I did. The work I was about to do. I fished out a pair of faded jeans that looked the most presentable and sh