Donna

10

I'M A STUBBORN SON OF AN ANGEL. IF YOU TELL me not do something, I'll do it, just because you told me not to. My Mama said I stayed in her belly an extra day, just so I wouldn't come out the day the doctor told me to.

True story.

I'm older now, I'm a bit wiser now, so I curved that. But this s**t?

"Alright, I'll be down soon."

Sighing, I walk back in her bedroom, took a shower, put on my now washed suit, put on my watch, etc.

Before I left, I pad over to her side of the bed, just as eyes shutter open. She sits up, glancing up at me. Leaning over her, I grab her jaw dipping down for a lingering kiss.

"I gotta go, work shit."

She nods, in understanding waiting for me to get to the point.

"I left my number on your dresser, text me within an hour. We got a situation."

"Sì, Vitya. I understand, caro."

She drags her fingers through messy hair, biting her lip. f**k this woman tempts me beyond belief.

I hurry, adjusting my cufflinks, knowing if I stick around an longer, I'm f*****g her.

On my out I remind her.

"Within an hour!" 

"I know!"

THREE MILLION. THIS IS GOING TO FAR. Yuri sets his blue gaze on me cautiously, knowing I'm near the edge of blowing the f**k up.

The Southern Estate is one of the largest in this country, where most of my soliders live. My soliders have families, they live there too. This is one of the worst estates to raid, because, frankly, except my most of my man power, the only there are families and strippers.

Which makes it personal.

Right now, I'm meeting the foreman of this Estate: my best friend, Yuri.

"Alright, run it back."

The man in front of the monitors, presses a button and the picture reverses.

12:05 AM. That's when it happened. While my guns were gunned down, and my girls were being taken, I was with Roksana.

Fuck. I want blame her, I do, but really, I can't. Well, I can, it just wouldn't be right.

For the tenth time, I watch masked men and/or women, come through my front f*****g door, take ten women from the entertainment room, gun down twenty of my men, and walk the f**k out.

“Yuri, who was in charge of security?”

TEDIOUS, LONG DRAWN OUT AND BLOODY. Just a name. Just a name and I put him out of his misery. No, he wants to be stubborn. Fine.

“I have a wife, and kids!”

I glance at the bloodied man in disinterest.

“That would be excellent knowledge really,” I begin flatly, “If I were your therapist, or fertility doctor.”

He starts sweating, eyes wild darting around.

“But I'm not either of those, and that's not what I asked. Who let them in?”

He gets frantic now, glancing at the stone walls like they'd save him.

Impatient, I urge him along.

“Here, let me make it easy for you,” I flip out my switch blade which isn't my favorite, but... It'll do.

Looking in his eyes, I press the knife to his pinky.

“Now, Sasha. You can leave with nine fingers, and have a nice funeral. Or,” I press down harder, cutting through flesh, nudging bones.

“You can keep pissing me off, and find yourself in very bad places. Get it? Cause you're mutilated, and your body parts are hidden in different areas?”

He doesn't laugh, even when I slice off his pinky which is slightly disappointing.

“Tough crowd.”

He goes in pain trying rock back in forth for comfort, but he's strapped down. Calmly, I place his pinky in the tray next to him.

“I'm going to give you another chance, and then I'm just going to let Roman here,” I nod to the burly angry guy, “Do his thing.”

I think in his head, that seems to be the better option as opposed to me. I set him straight.

“He's had a tough year, and he's got a lot of negative energy. He found out his wife was having a baby that his, he lost three hundred grand and an eye, and now he doesn't know if likes men or women.”

Horror dawns on him. “You'll help him, right?”

“N-No, I'll tell you what I know!”

“Speak.”

“All I know is there's a leak. I'm a bottom feeder, they threatened my family. I don't even know the direct source. But they're trying to over throw you over some woman.”

I nod, pursuing my lips pensively.

“Thank you Sasha.”

He nods, relived.

“Unfortunately, I have no sympathy for you.” His face falls.

“You could've came to me, I would've helped you. Instead, you got thirty people killed. They have families too Sasha.”

Trembling, he's shaking, he sees his death, it's imminent and he knows it.

“Will you take care of my family, Pahkan?”

(Boss/ head of the Bratva)

I don't give a backwards glance, nodding to Roman to do his job.

He'll never know, but I would.

I'd take care of them.

A FEW MINUTES LATER, I'M LEAVING THE SOUTHERN ESTATE, bloodied and pissed. The text message I get pisses me off further.

I scoff, calling her instead of texting. Her voice fills my car.

“Do you know what f*****g time it is?”

“7:45.”

“I left the house at near five, you text at me at near eight. Is that a hour?”

“It's an hour for me.”

Fucking...

“I don't need your smart ass mouth right now, what I need to know, is your location.”

“I'm at the house doing business. Some figlia di puttana—”

“Just stay there.”

She doesn't respond for a moment.

“I don't answer to you.”

“Did I say you did? Don't make me chase you, Roksana.”

“Fine, but I have company.”

“And I don't give f**k. Can you fix breakfast, or do I need to stop off somewhere.”

“Funny, you curse at me, than ask me a favor.”

“Yeah, you're right, I don't trust ass enough to let you cook for me. You want something?”

“Something Italian?”

“f**k no. I'll get you pancakes.”

I WALK IN, SETTING THE FOOD ON THE TABLE. I already hear talking rapid fire Italian, sounding quite irate.

Rolling my eyes at her bossy tone, I come into the living room, where she sits on sofa, frowning at a man across the room, sitting in an armchair.

I know she felt my presence, she relaxes ever so slightly. Our relationship is morphing into a sort of Daddy/baby girl.

She knows I'll f**k her up, and I know she'll f**k me up but in this house...it's different.

She can trust me, and I...

I can pretend to.

“Hey,” I whisper, bending down to kiss her. She returns my breif kiss, whispering a get back.

Effortlessly, I pick her up, sitting where she was, placing her on my lap. I watch him, and smirk.

Oh, you dumb fucker.

“There are other chairs y'know?”

“I know, I picked this one.”

Content that's irritated, I sit back, relaxing.

“This is the problem,” He irately continued in English, “He's f*****g Russian.”

I snort, but say nothing. I don't give f**k either way, honestly. After he leaves, I'm going f**k her, and I'll do again I don't want do anymore.

And if he wants to stop that, he's going get himself killed.

“Oh, thank you, Lucca, for that urgent information, I didn't know,” Sarcasm is strong in this one.

“Then why are you f*****g him? Cosa Nostra—”

“Let me explain something to you Lucca. I don't give a f**k,” She paused so long on that f**k.

“What Cosa Nostra says. I run my famiglia. I follow the general outline. Who I f**k has nothing to do with that.”

“Actually—”

She snaps, and Lucca is staring at the end of a barrel.

“So quick,” She murmured, “So quick I could kill you. Don't f**k with me. We're criminals. It's kinda stupid to think we follow the rules.”

Smiling, I tug her hair, loving her bossy side. As long as it's not me, it's sexy as f**k.

Is it inappropriate to just... Slip inside her?

Maybe.

“You will pay! You know better than to disobey the Board!”

She stiffens, really stiffens. Visibly, she never does that.

“Bring him to me.” She speaks instead of snapping, she never does that.

He's thrown at her feet, sweating, anger, and scared.

With her claw like nails, take it from me, they hurt, she grabs his jaw, and pulls him closer.

If she kisses this mother fucker she's going regret it.

“Try me, b***h,” The words are low and damn near poisonous. “I want you to try me. I'm going let you go just so you can try me.”

Fucking crazy mode is what she's in.

“Then I'm going hunt you down, make you f**k a corpse and then kill you. Slowly.”

Carelessly, she throws him down, settling against my chest, cross her legs.

“Everyone in here speaks English, Lucca. Take him out.”

Two guys drag him away, pleading and crying.

Then it's just us.

I place my hands on her body, letting them roam, as talk lowly in her ear.

“You know I love it when you get all murderous, little fox.”

Mewling, she hums a response, breathing quickening.

Pulling her dress up to her waist, I reach into her lacy panties, play with her.

“You're wet for me.”

“Always.”

“But you'd still kill me in cold blood.”

“Absolutely.”

“Good girl.”