Michelangelo had his eyes widened with shock. His brain was unable to register what Renata was saying. She told him that she was a Virgin when she slept with him. How was it possible for a 29-year-old to be a Virgin? Was she telling him the truth? He knew Narciso could lie but those photos were shown by Vicktor. He cannot make such mistakes. Did he lie too? How did he get those photographs? He assured him that none were photoshopped. Idiot Michel! He didn’t even ask how he got the photographs. Was he following her? How did he know that he had to follow her? Did he follow all the girls? It was true that she told him about Yoshiro. She told him that he came to the office, then why didn’t she tell him that he tried to kiss her forcefully? He came to her office to ask about him, that much Renata told him and then he attacked the girls to know his whereabouts. He almost beat Yoshiro to a pulp that day. If he had known he kissed her, he would have killed him. Michelangelo had no idea how
Vicktor signed and started his car. He had to go to Tikhon’s mansion. He worked with him in his previous life, and he knew everything about that family. After all, he was the one who killed a member of that family. The tiny girl whom he held in his hands, whim he trained, he had to kill her. Tikhon ordered him to kill her. He always missed that little girl, his prized pupil. No man came even close to her skill. She was better than him. He knew the house he was going to, was a different one. First Tikhon used to reside in Siago Slandna and now he lived in Aagua. All his houses were built like a fortress. Only a few were allowed inside. One of them was Vicktor. He didn’t want to visit Tikhon, but he had to. He had to check the finance books and Odal books. He thought of calling Vito Milano. He was an expert in Finance, but he would have to get permission from Tikhon. He made a point of asking the same to Tikhon. He knew going to Tikhon’s house would jog his memory of that night, that
Afanasiia closed the door of the closet and moved to her sister’s room. Without knocking she entered the room and shouted, “Yeka! What are you doing? We are late for dinner, let’s go!” “Get out! I am talking to my friends,” nine-year-old Yekaterina shouted at Afanasiia and threw a pillow at her which Afanasiia caught easily with just one hand. Afanasiia said nothing. She just raised one of her eyebrows and stared at Yekaterina. She understood that she had no choice but to listen to her sister. She never understood why everyone was scared of Afanasiia. She never saw her raising her voice at anyone. She never saw her scolding anyone. Yet everyone would walk on eggshells around her. She just knew her sister would travel around the world for some “business”. What she worked on, Yekaterina had no knowledge of that. Even if she asked, Afanasiia would say that after she grows up, she would tell her everything. She just knew that her father and sister worked together, and they had their own
The second hand of the clock kept ticking and ticking and Stephan grew nervous and nervous. He was given one job, one job and he was not sure if he would succeed. He kept gulping and gulping and staring at his wristwatch. He knew it was his day to die, either Tikhon would kill him or Afanasiia. Tikhon, Afanasiia, and Stephan were on the patio enjoying a nutty, earthy cigar and delicious vodka. Afanasiia was only 19 years old, yet she was treated as an adult in that house. She had a say in everything, every decision. She was not only skilful, but she was also extremely intelligent. Everyone knew she was going to be the next Supreme Boss after Tikhon would retire. They were on the patio away from all the women of the house as they had to discuss the terms and conditions of the new contract the Heeler received. Frenwan Cosca wanted to kill the son of a politician to show the politician what SMS was capable of. To control the father, they were going after the son. While they were going
Afanasiia stood before her closet and placed the blood-soaked silver heels in their place. He kept staring at the heels for a long time. The content face of Samiul kept haunting her. He was at peace while dying but her heart was in chaos. Her father made her kill the love of her life. He never thought she could fall in love with anyone. But Samiul was special. He was kind, smart and treated Afanasiia as a girl and not a killer even after she told him everything. Why she told him everything, why she trusted him, she had no idea. Maybe it was love. She still remembered how one day she was tasked to take care of the consignment. There were no vigilantes wrong against SMS then. Only a few policemen were blackmailing SMS to get the products across the borders. All were taking the fat out of the milk for themselves. So, Tikhon sent Afanasiia to teach them a lesson. She reached the ports after the men and women were already loaded in the trucks. She sat in the driver’s seat and started the
Afanasiia left the products and the truck in the club and went out. She didn’t even ask for a car. She had no idea where she was going. She just knew she had to get away from all that. She never knew how people were suffering while being transported for auctions. A little girl died and so many were malnourished. It was the doing of her father. And now those people were going to be sold and abused and harassed by rich people. Not even animals were being treated like that. She had no idea where she was walking to, bare-footed. She always wore heels, nothing else. Heels were her identity. Heels were her weapons. But now she was wearing nothing. She kept walking and walking. The face of that little girl kept flashing before her eyes. Before she knew she was inside a police precinct. She didn’t know how she reached there or why was she there. She had to tell everyone what she did. She let a little girl die. Why? To protect her father. Why was she protecting her father when he was the one
Vicktor sighed deeply and walked as slowly as he could inside the Kuznetsova bungalow. He could remember how Afanasiia would jump in his lap when she was a kid, eat with him, train with him. She spent her childhood with him. She was like his daughter, yet he had to kill her. He never forgave himself for that. It was after Afanasiia’s death that he stopped working for Tikhon. Rarely he would talk to him, when absolutely necessary. Tikhon too knew that Vicktor was angry at him for making him kill Afanasiia. He wanted out of Ceanba Cosca and Tikhon granted that. He was shifted to Fina Cosca after her death. “Vicktor!! After so many years! It seems you forgot about us,” Nika welcomed him. “What are you saying, Ma’am? How could I forget about you guys? We meet every auction, don’t we?” asked Vicktor. “Meeting in a professional setting and personal settings are different. You used to live with us and then you completely separated yourself from us,” taunted Nika. “Now, I work for another
Michelangelo wanted to run after Renata, but he knew she was angry and hurt. She shut her door and he knew she must be crying but how to console her, he had no idea. He was her villain, her tormentor. He pushed her into the mafia. He brought her into this world, this world of sex and violence. “I am sorry that I hit you,” Michelangelo hung his head low and apologised to Severino. “You could have hit me back, but you endured all. You knew I was wrong, and you both were right. Please forgive me.” “It’s okay, Michel! I know you are possessive of her. And in your anger, you never listen to anyone. I knew when your anger would subside, you would come back to your senses,” replied Severino and patted Michelangelo’s shoulder. “You forgave me, when will she forgive me?” said Michelangelo. “She will too, she just needs time. You have to show her you are not the idiot Michel that you have been a few past days,” said Severino. “But first I have to shift my anger to other people. Narciso lied