AYLA
The sound of the wristwatch beeping sounded like a timer that had no plans to go off.
"Shut vhat vhing off!"
I rolled my eyes with uncontained disgust at the Russian. "I've got just two hands. And I hope you can see where they are."
One of the men in black suit shot me a murderous glare. "How about you use your mouth, bitch!"
I wanted to reply him when the door of this shithole opened and Vittorio walked in.
Immediately, I knew. I just knew I was going to die.
Panic, anger, and something I thought I'd only felt for poverty and Don Cassian filled me.
This time he wore a three piece black suit and a white shirt with no trace of wrinkles.
Such a gentle looking viper, I thought.
He gave me a tight smile; then to no one in particular, "I need to see the face of Cara Mia more clearly," he said using that Russian accent.
My stomach made a sound that said I was hungry, and his eyes coasted to mine, then to the food on the floor beside me.
"Don't like your food, Cara Mia?"
