Whispers in the Wind

CHAPTER FOUR

Things at Vynetria and Giovanni—Mr. Russo's—office moved fast.

His schedule was intense, as expected. It was hard at first, but things began to go smoothly once I got used to it.

Now it had been almost three weeks since I last saw him, and John was beginning to press for something good and noteworthy. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing.

John’s name kept popping up on my phone, irritatingly, as I typed furiously on my laptop. It took a saint’s patience not to throw it against a wall.

I ended his call and was about to shove the phone away when a different name came up.

"Hi," I said.

"Miss Aurelius, how is the paperwork for the Fiorda deal going? Have they sent the contract over yet?" Mr. Russo's husky Italian voice asked, cool and collected.

"No, not yet. I was able to reach out to them, and they said they would in a little while."

"Alright. While you wait, I need you to get something for me."

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Twirling the blue flash drive in my hand, I watched in amusement as its small case sparkled under the sunlight filtering through the glass.

"What are the odds that I'll stumble on something valuable in my third week? We'll just have to wait and see," I mused, carefully placing it back into my handbag and making a mental note to assess its contents once I got back to the hotel.

How exactly is Mr. Russo related to the family?

I was curious. To hold such a high position in the company, you had to be part of the root Russo family—the Crown—or be inexplicably close and deemed trustworthy by them.

Though the city was completely under the control of the Russos, The Crowns were at the top of the family hierarchy and dominated every other Russo outside them.

I dialed John's number on my phone.

"Three weeks, Zina, three f*****g weeks, and you couldn't even get back to me to update me on whatever is happening there. Is this how you—"

I rolled my eyes and cut him off.

"First of all, you can't yell at me. I’m neither a child nor your child, so you need to lower your voice if you want to speak to me," I continued. "Secondly, I'm the one doing most of the work here. You don't get to sit at home fornicating with your mistresses all day and then come out to raise your voice at me. It really isn't that hard to book a plane to Los Angeles and cut you off again."

I leaned back into the chair and pushed my hair away from my eye.

"I called to get some insight on Giovanni Russo. What's his position in the family?"

"He's the Don's youngest son, his consigliere, second-in-command of the family's business—both legal and illegal ventures—and he handles both the family and business' legal work."

I nodded. Bearing all this in mind, I must admit he was an interesting character.

One I could have considered getting involved with if the circumstances were different.

"Anything else I need to know?" I asked, gathering my things as the cab began to slow down.

"None. You'll learn more if you're doing your job properly," he snapped.

I rolled my eyes at his tone. "John, we both know how this works. If you can't be patient enough for my plan to unfold, then we can end everything instead of you talking to me like I'm an incompetent child," I snapped back.

He didn’t say anything else.

"I'll update you once I get something," I concluded, cutting the call as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

Vynetria was just down the street—a fifteen-minute walk at most.

A group of guys stood a few meters away, loudly making comments I chose to ignore.

What would Manhattan be without irritating catcallers?

The urban streets of Manhattan will always be the urban streets of Manhattan.

I've lived in cities long enough to know there are far more dangerous things than a few idiots with no other ambition than getting into a girl's panties. However, when those idiots began following me, I started walking a little faster.

"Come on!" one of them yelled. "You speeding up because of us?"

I neither turned nor acknowledged them. Vynetria was just a little further. If I turned, I knew they'd be close.

"Don't be like that!" another hollered.

I winced. It was broad daylight, and these morons were drawing attention from the numerous passersby. If I hadn’t gone through redemption, they’d be lying in their own blood by now.

"You can’t look so hot and not expect us to want to chat."

I pinched my eyes shut, allowing the irritation to simmer. This time, I had to acknowledge them.

I cast a cold, warning gaze over my shoulder and continued on my way.

The entrance to Vynetria was just ahead.

"Come on, pretty girl. Don't be like that—"

Then, "Miss Aurelius?"

I snapped my head to the curb, where Giovanni Russo was stepping out of a black Aston Martin onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel. Forgetting the men tailing me, I stopped in my tracks, feeling a little breathless as he unbuttoned his jacket. Despite the heat, he looked as unbothered as ever in his finely tailored suit. I realized I’d never seen him in normal clothes.

"Hi," I said.

Another man exited the back seat. He had tanned, light skin and sandy blonde hair tied back out of his face. He looked like he had just come from surfing on the coast if it weren’t for the bespoke suit he wore.

The stranger gave me a polite smile, glancing briefly at the man whose stare was still fixed on me.

He cleared his throat, and finally, the heated stare left my face.

"I'll meet you inside, Gio," he said, glancing back at me, then at his friend. "Don't take too long."

Gio. That seemed more fitting for the man standing in front of me. The stranger departed, leaving me hot and breathless in front of my boss while the three men from earlier hollered at each other by a storefront.

"Come back over here!" one yelled, and I cringed.

Caramel-colored eyes caught my cringe and looked over my shoulder at the guys. His expression remained stoic, save for a small eyebrow raise.

"Daniel!" he called across the sidewalk to the policeman standing outside Vynetria’s door. I watched, a bit awed, as the officer shuffled up to him. "Those men are harassing my assistant."

"Say no more." The men scuttled away as they noticed the officer approaching.

I glanced back at Mr. Russo, who was already looking down at me. A cop? A cop on retainer?

As if reading my thoughts, he shrugged slightly—a gesture that told me he had a lot of cops on retainer. He might be a lawyer, but the law clearly didn’t apply to him.

"I remember making provisions for a steady transportation plan to cover the errands you were supposed to fulfill today," he began.

"You did. I got out when I reached this street. Wanted to stretch my legs," I answered. Confusion swam in his caramel eyes. "It’s a habit, Mr. Russo."

His eyes narrowed, and I swear my heart froze for a millisecond.

"Just be careful. A cop or someone trustworthy won't always be available to rescue you from such men."

"I don't need rescuing, Mr. Russo. I could have handled that myself. You just happened to appear at the same time," I stated.

He motioned for me to walk in front of him.

"You know," he continued, "you can call me Gio."

I nodded. "So you'll be calling me Zina now?"

"No," his lips curved upwards, "Miss Aurelius is more fitting."

Hi,

Thanks for reading. It wasn't eventful, I know. Just trust the process.

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