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Chapter 8
Misha
Don’t you fucking dare look at her again.
Don’t! Blyadʹ!
I let out a sigh as my eyes latch onto Aurora D’Angelo. She might be the enemy, but fuck, she looks like a walking wet dream.
Her black hair is much longer than when I last saw her, but it still looks silky as fuck, and it’s probably as soft as I remember.
Her features have lost the last of her teenage years and have been shaped into a womanly beauty that can only be described as exquisite.
“You’re staring,” Alek mutters.
My eyes snap to him, then to the tumbler of vodka. I pick up the glass and drink half of the contents, needing the burn of alcohol to get my head straight.
We were warned the women would attend St. Monarch’s for the next four years. My friends and I still have two years to go before we’re done with our training, so the next twenty-four months are going to be hard.
Even with the warning, and the time I had to prepare myself, I was still stunned out of my fucking mind when I laid eyes on Aurora this afternoon.
It’s one thing telling yourself to hate the enemy, but it’s a whole different ball game when the attraction comes into play.
And fuck is the attraction there. More powerful than I remember.
That fucking spark between us can go fuck itself sideways with an incendiary grenade.
Then there’s the heartbroken look on her face when I told her I’d kill her if I got the chance. Christ, it was painful to watch, and it felt like I was betraying myself by uttering the threat.
I want to tell myself the woman can’t be held liable for her father’s stupidity of going against the bratva and mafia, but that’s not how things work in our world.
D’Angelo and Sartori kept their daughters hidden for the past two years, knowing they were targets after the failed assassination attempt on our lives.
It’s always an eye for an eye. D’Angelo and Sartori tried to take out three sons of the bratva and mafia, and therefore, the favor will be returned by our family taking their daughters.
It’s only a matter of time.
Four years to be exact. Then their lives will be ended.
My heart squeezes in my chest, the deceptive organ not liking the idea of Aurora dying at the hand of the bratva and mafia.
It will be slow and brutal.
Christ, the job might even be given to us so we can have our revenge.
Bile churns in my stomach at the thought.
I don’t have a problem killing a woman. If the person is a target of the bratva or mafia, they become just another job.
But killing Aurora will test my loyalty and sanity like never before.
My eyes find Aurora, and I watch as she carries herself like a true mafia princess while she talks to Director Koslov.
I should’ve seen the mafia princess in her that night, but instead, I fell so hard and fast. I was blinded by her beauty.
I shake my head and force my attention to my friends, who are watching me like hawks.
“Christ, Misha,” Armani chuckles, “is it safe to say you’re fucked?”
Getting up from my chair, I walk away from the table as I mutter, “I need a cigarette.”
I only smoke when I’m stressed out, and right now, I’m rattled by Aurora’s presence.
I have to get my shit under control.
My friends join me out on the front steps, and Alek lights a cigarette. As he hands it to me, he says, “Why fight it? Fuck the woman out of your system, and when her four years are up, at least she won’t die a virgin.”
I regret telling my friends Aurora’s a virgin.
“It’s been two years,” Armani chuckles. “Her virginity is probably long gone.”
I fucking hate the words coming out of their mouths and, even more so, the fact that Armani might be right.
She doesn’t belong to you, so you can’t get enraged at the thought of another man taking her virginity.
Still, unreasonable anger fills my chest.
Alek has to light another cigarette because there’s no way I’m sharing this one. I need all the nicotine I can get my hands on.
Those wounded green eyes and the stunning smile fading on her lips.
Christ, she didn’t even try to hide her pain and shock, which confirms she wasn’t aware of my identity the night of the attack.
“What is it about the girl that gives you such a hard-on?” Alek asks. Everything. Her mannerisms, her beauty, her innocent dark green eyes,
her blinding smile…Jesus, the list is endless.
“I don’t know,” I lie without missing a beat.
It’s all I’ve done for the past two years. Lie to my friends and myself.
Aurora might be a D’Angelo, but for one night, she was my little deer, and that night refuses to free my heart from its unyielding grip.
Just as I take a drag from the cigarette, the angelic voice that’s haunted me says, “Misha, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Hearing my name spill over her lips makes my emotions spike into a dangerous, chaotic mess.
I exhale the smoke as I turn to face Aurora.
Even though fear and pain whirl in her eyes, her chin is held high. Abbie, her friend, stands by the foot of the grand staircase, watching us like a fucking eagle that’s ready to tear our hearts out with her talons if we try to hurt Aurora.
I nod at Alek and Armani, and they walk back into the foyer but stay close by to overhear the conversation.
Aurora moves closer and nervously glances over the grounds illuminated by hundreds of lights.
Highly annoyed with my heart for beating a mile a minute at the sight of her, I snap, “You have one minute.”
Her gaze darts to mine, and I watch as the harshness of my tone slams into her.
Christ, those emeralds have a way of striking at the deepest part of my heart.
Like a starved man, I drink in the sight of her, and for the slightest of moments, I wish we weren’t natural-born enemies.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asks, her gaze drifting over my features as if she’s trying to imprint me into her memory.
“Every word,” I bite out.
She nods, then inhaling deeply, she frowns at me. “So that night meant nothing to you? It was all a lie?”
The lie spills over my lips, “Yes.”
This time her eyes narrow on me. “You’re still bad at lying.”
Taking a last pull of the cigarette, I flick it into a nearby garden. Exhaling the smoke, I step closer to Aurora until she’s forced to tilt her head back to keep eye contact with me.
Slowly, I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around her slender neck. For a second, I almost indulge in the feel of her soft skin, but then I squeeze until she gasps and her eyes fill with tears.
Knowing I’m hurting her has my heart constricting with a sense of betrayal, which stokes my temper because I should only be loyal to the bratva and mafia.
I lean down, and feeling her breaths rushing over my lips, creates a storm of desire in me, and I have to fight the craving and emotions with every bit of my strength.
I keep my tone low and threatening. “The only reason I’m not snapping your neck right now is because of the ground you’re standing on. Don’t mistake the fact that I’m allowing you to breathe for kindness.”
Even trembling with fear, her eyes search mine for the truth, and I bury everything she’s ever made me feel so fucking deep down she’ll never be able to find it.
Ripping my hand away from her breakable neck, I growl, “Stay out of my way, D’Angelo.”
Pushing past her, my shoulder knocks her off balance, and I hear as she falls to the polished floor.
Abbie rushes closer, and within a second, I come face-to-face with her enraged gaze.
She shoves at my shoulder, anger burning in her eyes. “Hurt her again, and I’ll make you pay, feccia!”
Hearing her call me scum only has a dark chuckle rippling over my lips while I stare her down. “I’d love to see you try, puttana.”
Calling her a whore in her own language gives me great satisfaction, and not wasting more time with her, I walk to where Alek and Armani are waiting with amused smirks on their faces.
“Shut up,” I grumble at my friends so they don’t start teasing me, then I take the stairs to the first floor where my suite is.
It takes more strength than I have not to look back so I can check if Aurora’s gotten up off the floor.
She’s the enemy. In no world can the two of you be together, so just forget about her. Your loyalty belongs to the bratva and mafia.