Indebted to the Mafia King

*Tatiana*

Getting to finally meet two other members of the Saints feels somewhat... exciting. I was shocked to see the one I had cut while running away from the wedding was part of their gang. This whole time, I'd just assumed that he had been working for Oleg. At least he doesn't seem to be holding a grudge against me, which is a relief.

The other one, though-Dice-was harder to convince that he can trust me, but in the end, I think they both believed me and my story.

I still don't know the plans they have for me, and I assume they need to tell their boss what I've disclosed first, but surprisingly, I'm not that worried about my future anymore. I know Angelo won't leave me on the street by myself. He'll find a way to keep me protected, even if his boss tells him I'm of no use to them anymore.

Maybe I can return to Russia and start again somehow.

The mere thought of leaving Angelo behind hurts my heart, but if that's what it comes to in the end, I'll have to find a way. It's a bit alarming that I'm already so attached to him.

Fucking Stockholm Syndrome much?

After breakfast, Angelo tells me to leave the room because he needs to have a private meeting with the guys. I agree immediately, not wanting to prevent them from doing whatever it is they need to do, even though I am aware that they will discuss everything I just shared with them.

It feels like I'm walking away so they can decide my future without me, but to be completely honest with myself, I don't want to be a part of it. Insisting on being included in their discussion won't help me, so I excuse myself, heading up to the second floor.

I don't want to go to my room, though. I'm feeling suffocated inside those walls. And since Angelo didn't specifically tell me what I couldn't do except leave the house, of course I decide to walk around and find something more interesting to do with my time.

I haven't had the chance to explore the house, so I walk through the halls, peeking inside some rooms where the doors are already open, and eventually I find a large library.

18ts-arluyen comm, utte wan's coverecrwitt>rlerves filer with Joor's: Two commón cáchés couches, a wooden desk, and a window that has a view of a forest and a lake make it a perfect place to read. It's beautiful, but it stirs a memory deep inside me of a similar room in the home I grew up in. I lose myself in it for a minute, wondering what it would be like if I had stayed in Russia.

Would Lev and Ilya still have been murdered if I hadn't come? Did Oleg already know about me before we arrived here? He must have to intercept us at the airport like that. Was that his plan the whole time? That I come here so he could get rid of them and marry me off to his bastard son?

I have so many questions, but I can't find answers to any of them.

Shaking my head, I focus my attention on the books around me, taking in the scent of old paper and remembering the times when my parents used to read to me by the fire back in Russia. Those cold days were always so filled with warmth. They raised me with so much love, dedication.... How is it fair that they had to die to keep me alive?

I randomly grab a book with a Russian title and a green leather cover and sit down on the floor, close to the fireplace. I skim through the pages, trying to understand what the book is about, but my head is not in the right place. I'm not able to focus on anything right now.

I'm exhausted. My brain and body are heavy, weighed down with the activities of the past few weeks but mostly, my emotions are all over the place. With everything that I went through, and getting involved with Angelo, I can't keep my mind on one topic long enough to breathe, let alone read a book.

I need to reach the end of this nightmare. Soon.

I want to live my life. I want to at least have a chance of having one. I had a nice

childhood, but I was constantly looking over my shoulder. That era of my life needs to end.

I stare blankly at the pages for God knows how long, until I hear a shuffling sound by the door.

"Didn't take you for a bookworm," Angelo muses.

In my peripheral vision, I see him leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

I smirk to myself, not looking up. I'm not really sure what to say, and frankly, I wanted

to be alone. But I can't tell him that. Besides, he's seen me at my worst already. I feel like, right now, I can show him my weak side without fear.

"I'm sorry about all of that. I know it's not easy for you to talk about," he murmurs when I don't reply.

I finally look at him, not sure what to say. All I can do is nod.

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He nods toward the book in my hands. "You miss it, don't you? Russia?"

I hesitate. Do I? Do I miss the place or what it means to me? Do I miss the happy memories I have from there, or do I belong in Russia?

Shrugging, I try to put my thoughts into a coherent sentence. "Honestly, I don't know what I miss. When I lived in Russia, I used to dream of one day living a normal life. It was as normal as it could be, and I know Lev and Ilya did their best to keep their promises to my father, but...." I sigh. "I still wonder what my life could've been like. If my parents hadn't been murdered, if I had stayed and been raised here. Would it be a regular life, with no hiding, no violence? Or would I have become a part of the mafia? It makes me wonder, you know?"

"I do." Angelo walks into the room and sits down on the couch, keeping a small distance from us, allowing me to have my personal space for a little longer. I like that he is thoughtful that way. "And now? What do you dream of?"

Great question.

I wish I could say I have good dreams whenever my head hits the pillow, but nightmares have become a nightly routine these days. The only night I can think of recently when I didn't have one was last night, when I slept with him. Angelo managed to clear my mind of any bad memories.

All I dreamed about was building a life with him.

And I was happy.

Still, I don't want to tell him that. I have no idea what we are at this point, and it's not like I can expect him to be on the same page as me, no matter how much he expresses his feelings are mutual through his gestures and words.

My future is uncertain, and so is our relationship.

I close the book and put it aside, shifting so I can face him completely. The silence stretches between us for longer than I intended, and it leaves me slightly on edge. For once, neither of us is talking about Oleg or tragic pasts.

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We're talking about something that feels way scarier than any of those things-our future. Together or separated, whatever it is, it freaks me out to not have a plan. Not to know what to do or expect.

“It's hard to have dreams when every day could be my last," I finally confess, doing my best not to sound like a victim. I don't want him to pity me or think I'm saying that just so he will release me. But it's the truth, and he is the one who asked.

He stares at me for another second before leaning down and picking up the book from the floor. He glances at the title and frowns slightly."This one's got a bad ending," he tells me, his tone a bit more cheerful now. He's changing the topic, and I appreciate that he didn't insist on pushing me. Until we know how this is going to play out, it's best that we don't talk about any plans for the future. There's no point for either of us. Looking at the book in his hands, something strange occurs to me. I raise a brow. "You read it? In Russian?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I read the translation. I don't speak Russian, and I sure the hell don't read it." He sets the book beside him on the couch. "And well, I didn't like the ending."

That piques my curiosity. I didn't take him for a reader. It's...sexy. He's not just magnetically attractive, but he's also intelligent.

"What would you have changed?" I ask, tilting my head as I watch him.

His eyes darken, a mysterious expression shadowing his features. The way he stares atnoveldrama

me makes my chest tighten and my core begin to heat. The effect he has on me is addictive.

"I'd give the protagonists a way out," he tells me, his voice serious and firm. Since I don't know what the story is about, I have no idea what he is referring to. But

for some reason, I feel he isn't just talking about the protagonists of that novel. Is this his way of saying he hopes I find a way to win?

I really hope he is talking about us because I have to believe there is a way out of this for me this house, this life, this nightmare.

All I want is to have a chance to be happy. Hopefully, in my happy ending, Angelo will

be by my side. But until Oleg is dead, that ending will stay unwritten.