It's been some minutes now, not a word uttered by either one of us. It weighs in the room like a thick fog. I watch as his jaw ticks, and his fingers twirl on one of his rings. I can almost see the cogs in his head turning. He's making sure to put extra thought into what he will say next. He twirls his rings because it helps him think, he doesn't seem nervous. His presence is weirdly imposing and threatening at the same time. He finally breaks the ice. The twirling and the ticking stop, a dark look casts over his face."We both know that wasn't a terrorist attack." He then inches closer. For some reason the air in the room suddenly got thicker, it's much harder to breathe. Composure, I must maintain composure.Deciding on playing the role of the oblivious damsel I reply. "I'm not following Mr Valkov."He rests a hand on my shoulder, my skin burns from the contact. His fingers start to trace my collarbone, branding my skin as they move. He cranes his head, the warmth of his breath se
I take a sip of my soda that has been marinating on the table for the last ten minutes, its ice has long dissolved into the drink making it more watery than I need it to be. I check the time on my watch, he'll be here soon. It's not too late to cancel and bolt, I've been running my whole life anyway. I shove down the thoughts of doubt to the back of my head. That's what got me into this situation anyway, running. Plus where would I go where he wouldn't find me?Feeling my nerves almost get the better of me, I order something much stronger. Whiskey always does the job. A few minutes later I'm chugging down my whiskey, I gulp down half of its contents leaving my throat stinging and a bitter aftertaste. My eyes water and my nostrils feels as though there's a bonfire being hosted in them. I however, feel myself relax a little, I lean back into my chair, my nose is immediately assaulted by a familiar coconut and vanilla scent. My eyes meet his the minute I look besides me, I nearly knock
It's been two weeks since I last saw Roman. It's not that I want to see him,then again maybe I do. It just makes me anxious, you know. Just a month ago I was nearly killed and just two weeks ago I made a deal with the devil who wouldn't be anxious. Time is ticking. I need to deal with my past quickly before it deals with me. But of course he's taking his sweet time, it's not like he has a deadline to meet. I've been pulling out my hair and eating my toenails stressed shitless. If they won't kill me then my stress will. That's why I've been standing outside one of his many office buildings for the last thirty minutes. It took me two days to narrow down which of the many buildings in the country he'd make an appearance. It took me an hour of calling annoying receptionists in a pathetic effort to book an appointment. I don't know how many times I've heard "He's unavailable" or "He's a busy man". I'm one breakdown away from bombing all the gaddamn offices.Maybe I should turn up at his u
I brushed off yesterday's pathetic attempt on crashing Roman's meeting. Next time I'll break into his house.I walk into my office inhaling the wonderful raspberry aroma filling the area. It always soothes me, I make my way past my staff, nodding and accepting greetings. Working will get my mind off things. My assistant Annie eventually catches me and we walk in sync. "Morning Miss Michaels." I almost burst out laughing. Micheals is the fake surname I adopted years ago, the one that gave me a fresh start. I'm beginning to think it has no value anymore I mean otherwise I wouldn't have been discovered right?Annie takes my coat and hands me coffee. "Should I bring the same flavoured donuts for your guests as well or maybe I should confirm with them?"I stop in my tracks and glance at my watch. It's six thirty I'm not supposed to have any clients until ten. "Why didn't you mention that before Annie?"She looks away flustered. "Well they told me you were expecting them so assumed you al
I can only hear gunshots and the heavy thumps of corpses hitting the ground around me. Both my brain and my stomach are throbbing with excruciating pain. I'm curled up like a foetus, anxiously trying to protect my body from the flurry of bullets flying by. The bullets seem to go forever before stopping. I pull my head free of my arms and sneak a peek. My nose is assaulted by a familiar intoxicating scent, I don't need to look up to know who's standing in front of me. I sit up ignoring the protest of my body oozing with pain. Roman eyes me intently, his gaze sweeping over my body. He extends a hand, I immediately grab on to it and he hoists me up gently. He struts over to his car. Roman's made men gather my pursuers' bodies and toss them in cars. They'll all dead. A honk startles me out of my thoughts. Roman catches my attention."Aren't you going to get in the car?"I make my way to the car and step in immediately feeling the warmth of the heater. I sink into his plush leather seats
We're at Roman's penthouse, my temporary home for the next few months. On our way up I was addressed as Mrs Valkov at least fifty times, it still tastes foreign on my tongue. I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I've spent the last ten years using a fake surname. Now I have another, crazy. Does that mean I have to change my documents now? I'm overthinking this. I snap out of thoughts and focus on my surroundings. It's a very gorgeous penthouse with the best view. We passed by so many floors on our way up, Roman says his men occupy some of the floors and the other floors are for recreational purposes. I make a mental note to explore the rest of the floors later. I'm introduced to his staff, Elena who handles housekeeping and Chef Ranov who does the cooking."So what do you people do for fun? Target practice on dead bodies maybe?""Would you like to be the subject of today's practice?"I purse my lips. "So how do we handle commuting? I'm sure your work has an awkward schedule anywa
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about the engagement lunch. I've been rummaging through my closet for an appropriate outfit. I mean what do you wear to your engagement party with a Don? I suddenly feel homesick, if things had been different I'd be surrounded by my cousins and annoying aunts in Italy. They'd be helping me get dressed up whilst gossiping about their neighbours. Unfortunately things weren't different, I'd always been destined to be alienated, secluded, all alone. I wish Val was alive, at least we'd have been together, secluded together.The life I lived was a lonely one. It's not like I even had a choice. Ofcourse I had friends but they only knew Lana Michaels, the goofy,crazy Lana Micheals with a perfect life. They didn't know Lana Morelli, the one who had killed and stolen for survival, the black sheep of her family who was harbouring intense bitterness and anger toward them. Lana Morelli who hated that her life was pathetic, the daughter of a monster. Lana Mor
These people are vultures. I know their type, I've dealt with their type. The type of people that tear you down from flesh to bone. People with critical eyes and big noses from which they look down on people. Stuck up rich people. I have the strong urge to shoot everyone in the room. As his doting wife to be I have my arm snaked around his showing our engagement rings for the camera. I have the fakest smile on my face. Roman leans towards me. I feel his hot breath fanning against my neck. "Ne khodi v les yesli boish'sya volkov." He whispers into my ear. What does that mean? Why is he speaking Russian to me when I don't even understand it? It sounds good though, him speaking Russian sounds really good. Curiosity fills me, I want to hear more of Roman speaking Russian. I tilt my head slightly so I'm facing his neck. Aware of the cameras and the crowd watching, I place a kiss near his earlobe. I feel his throat rumble, more like a growl sound. Maybe I'm just imagining it. "What does