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Estella Athena Knight. Always have been a special girl, she attracts the attention of the mafia king in a way that makes her blood boil.
August Nicolai DeLuca.
A simple game of cat and mouse, and a pool full of hatred and desire brought exciteme...
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I blink at my father in complete shock.
"Excuse me, say that again," I say in disbelief, me? Assigned to August, I rather have sexy time with a hobo.
"You heard me, Estella." Father gritted, I pause for a second before speaking.
I'm one of my father's best agents, working under August would do nothing to him I just won't be getting orders from dear old dad, but I will from August.
And I can tell that pisses him off, not having his once little precious obedient daughter follow everything he says.
I can't imagine what August might make me do, fear creeps up my neck just thinking about it.
"Absolutely not." I shake my head, I gripped the armrest trying to contain my anger.
"It wasn't a suggestion." Father rested his hands flatly on his desk.
"And I wasn't suggesting," I remarked quickly, he cocked an eyebrow at my tone.
He practically sold me to the devil, and it sure as hell scared me. My father has done a lot of things to me, things I blocked out but-this, practically selling me, I'd never thought we would get to this point.
"You have lost your mind if you think I'm working under Him." I raised my voice, his face hardens. It's embarrassing I use to be scared of him.
"Estella, I advise you to lower your fucking tone talking to me." He stood from his chair, and I let out a sarcastic laugh.
"What are you gonna do, hit me?" I crossed my legs, a small grin on my face.
"I'm not my mother, try someone else." I gritted, the words felt raw coming out my mouth.
His face falters slightly. "Your working under him, end of discussion." Rolling my eyes I stood from the chair, matching his level.
"This isn't over till, I say it's over." Anger rises throughout my whole body. The nerve this man child has.
Years of following his every word, that time is over.
"Exactly what are you gonna do, Estella don't forget, I made you." Flashes of my childhood, training at the brick of dawn at the age of seven, killing at the age of ten.
"You might've made me, but now you can't control me." I tap my finger on the desk, I was fuming, but I appeared calm.
