Chapter 7

• NATASHA
• Luca grinned at the woman. I couldn't figure out if he was looking pleased to see her or was just proud to introduce who I was.
• "This is Vera Ivanov," He boasted. "Yes, the Vera. Russia's most wanted."
• "Ignore him," I told the lady. "I go by Natasha. I haven't been called Vera in years."
• The iciness in her eyes died down and she smiled. I wondered why she had looked at me that way before. I hadn't even done a thing and I was certain I had never met her in my life.
• Yet she had looked guarded in the first few seconds before Luca introduced me. I glanced around the house and arched my brow. There were people moving in between the trees. It was so subtle, I almost didn't pick it up. Considering how the woman had also approached without me hearing her footsteps and how Luca wasn't alarmed, that could only mean one thing.
• This wasn't just Luca's home. It was his hideout. His fortress.
• And he had a very qualified set of people, if I had to admit it.
• But of course I would never admit that.
• "Vera," Luca said, the glint in his eyes telling me he was calling me that on purpose. "Meet Olivia. Olivia, meet Vera."
• "Natasha," I corrected again, stretching out a hand.
• "It's nice to meet you Natasha" She replied, taking it.
• Good, she was smart. Unlike her boss who seemed to get a kick out of irritating me to no end.
• "Well now that all the pleasantries and shit are shared," Luca interrupted, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Come, let me show you around. "
• "What's the point?" I asked as he led me into the mansion. It was huge, but somehow, it seemed even bigger on the inside. "I thought I was going to Italy."
• "What's the point she says," Luca mocked as he steered me into a rather expensively decorated living room. Luca was a man with flamboyantly taste. Just his foot mat looked like it would pay my rent. "You'd expect me to just dump your ass in Italy and get on with it?"
• I pressed my lips shut, refusing to say another word. That was exactly what I had thought he would do. The mafia I had worked in weren't exactly meticulous but they cared very much about getting a job done. They didn't care how it got done though.
• I had assumed I would be going through the same hell.
• "That would be foolish. You aren't after the prime minister or someone well known by all," He said. "You're after Hell, himself. I'm Italian, and I do not know him. That's how good he is and how bad this situation is. Sending you to find him without preparing you first, is literally just sending you to die."
• "Isn't that what you're doing anyways?" I snapped and he had the gall to look appalled.
• "Of course not!" He cried. "Why would I go through the lengths of looking for you all over the damned continent if I just wanted you to die? That is not how things are run Vera. I searched for you because I trusted that only you could help make this fantasy a reality."
• I stared at him quizzically. "Do you really mean that or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"
• He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Both?"
• I stifled a chuckle at the sight of the impish look on his face. Bastard. He really was damned annoying. He'd almost succeeded in making me laugh.
• "So what am I doing here then?" I asked, trying to distract myself. This was like a business contract. I couldn't allow myself to get all buddy-buddy with the man who had threatened to kill my sister."
• "Olivia, will you tell her?" He asked and I gasped again, realizing that I hadn't noticed her around until he called her name.
• Just how quiet was she? She was very nimble too. People always made sounds; scratches, sniffs, a drag of the feet against the ground. But from her, there just seems complete utter silence. I was almost jealous.
• Almost.
• "You're here to train," Olivia said simply and we both stared at her.
• "Go on?" Luca encouraged and she sighed, as if annoyed to be the one explaining things to the newcomer.
• "You're here to train and to learn all we know about Hell. You also will be educated on the map of Italy, the mafia's known hiding spot and the suspected hideouts. You'll learn about powerful men in Italy who have deep connections to the mafia and see if they can serve as leads to Hell himself."
• "That's a lot of things to learn," I groaned. I preferred the Russian way. There was more killing and less education involved.
• Now I was about to be forced to learn politics, geography and shit all for the sake of killing some powerful mafia lord. I turned to Luca.
• "A million dollars is way too small with all this education involved."
• He smiled at me and I felt my skin crawl. He had a rather eerie smile sometimes and this was one of the times. "But your sister's life isn't, is it?*
• I gave him a dirty look. He was not going to ever let me forget that the bounty was my sister’s life would he? Turning to face Olivia, I cocked my head to the side, taking in her profile. “Is that all? You mentioned something about training.
• She nodded. “Yeah, you’ll be having a personal trainer. We need to whip you into shape quickly.”
• I frowned at her use of words. Whip me into shape? What the hell was she ranting on about? I was very much in shape. I glanced down at my tanned belly beneath the ripped top I wore. My stomach was defined into abs, my legs and thighs were toned and strong as ever. What on earth did she mean to whip me into shape?
• “I look perfect,” I grumbled and Luca hummed.
• “Yep, you definitely do,”
• “Stop being such a sleaze,” I snapped.
• “Stop being such a tease, Vera Ivanov. If you keep glaring daggers at me with those eyes, you might actually succeed in hacking my heart out of my chest.”
• I smiled at his words. “I would love nothing more.”
• “Are you two done flirting?” Olivia interrupted and she didn't look happy. Not one bit. Her eyes were fixed on me and I could literally smell the animosity rolling off her in waves. The cat was angry about something. I glanced at Luca, then back at her and suddenly it became all so clear.
• She had glared at me when she first approached us outside, while I was talking with Luca. She hadn’t looked too happy then either. And now, I had gotten carried away bickering with the man who held my sister’s life in his hands and it looked like his secretary wanted me dead.
• Quickly, I raised my hands in defense. “Trust me, I have no interest whatsoever in a man who hangs the life of my sister over my head like the sword of Damocles.”
• Luca snorted ignoring the brewing tension between I and his secretary or whatever the hell she was, clapped in his hands. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
• I had the notion that Luxca’s mansion was huge. But as he showed me the place, I began t6o think that was an understatement. It was beyond huge. It was crazy big. There were way too many rooms, way too many bathrooms and of course, a ridiculous number of escape routes.
• “You mentioned something about training,” I told Luca as we passed by a training room. Two of his men were engaged in a sparring session against each other and it was damned fierce. I could feel the adrenaline pumping into my veins at the sight. Sure the mafia was a place that held awful memories for me, there were some things that I had learned to love.
• Fighting. I had learned to love it. To crave it. A desire that demanded to be sated.
• “Who will be training me?”
• Luca tipped his head at his secretary who had done nothing but glare daggers at me all through the house tour.
• “No fucking way,” I snapped. “She'll train me?”
• Not that I didn’t think she was a good fighter, I was certain she would do right on her level. But there was no way his hoity toity secretary could beat me, not to mention train me.
• “Do you doubt my assistant,” Luca asked, arching a brow. “I assure you, she is more capable than you can imagine.”
• “Prove it,” I bit out. “If she can take on those two guys, I’ll believe you.”
• “How about,” Olivia suggested moving closer until she was looking directly into my eyes, a twinkle in hers. “If I beat you, you believe and accept that I can train you?”
• Perhaps there was more to her after all, I thought as I matched her stare head-on. She looked quite determined. I suppose using her to practice would not be so bad. And it wouldn’t be a waste of time either. But she had balls thinking she could beat me in a spar session.
• I reached for her hair and plucked a strand. “You’re on, Barbie.”