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"Lorenzo..." I breathed out, the satisfaction of hearing his voice again calmed my raging nerves.

"Amara! Where are you?!" I could hear the panic in his voice, my teary eyes darting to the open door of the living room, the footsteps growing closer and closer as my heart beat faster against my chest.

"I'm gonna come back to you, Enzo, I swear—" I panicked once I felt the presence grow closer. "—I gotta go." And with that I hung up instantly, deleting the recently dialled number and putting the phone away.

I've been observing Ajax's phone for some time now: where he puts it down, what his password is, if he ever keeps his phone away from him, all that.

I finally took my chance and built up the courage to call Lorenzo, I needed to hear his voice. For that reassurance, for that little motivation.

It's been six long months with no contact with my people whatsoever.

I mean, I don't blame them. They can't just charge in here whenever they want, shoot every man down — although I would prefer that.

Luis is a well hidden man, his existence is a ghost, he only makes an appearance at big events and attacking his casino's would be crazy.

That could work unless we want the FBI involved in this mess too.

This plan has to be made smart and cunningly, no violence and no drama.

"Hey," Ajax entered the living room, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. "Dinner with Mr Luis tonight, sharp seven." I had put a smile on once he entered the room but it was quick to drop once he told me my plans for tonight.

"Great." I muttered, checking the time and it's five. "I'm gonna go get ready." I sighed but Ajax stopped me.

"There's a dress in your room for tonight, also, it's a business deal dinner." Oh, even better.

"I'm a fucking businesswoman and this is what my life has come to." I spat, muttering to myself as Ajax smirked, glad to think someone thinks this is funny. "Qué cabrón." I fired at him, bumping into him on purpose as I walked out.

"No fue tan difícil, ¿No?" He peaked his head around the corner and I scoffed, ignoring him as I headed upstairs.
(Translation: you're feisty, aren't you?)

Hijo de puta.

Entering the room, I eyed the dress laid out on my bed. "Aye, joderme la vida." I muttered in distaste as I eyed the long dress, does he think I'm a nun?

I physically cannot.

Fuck that.


It was around half six when I finished getting ready, a dark emerald silk dress clung my figure well, coming down to just below my knees.

I heard a knock on my door, telling them to come in I noticed Chase's reflection in the mirror peaking in.

"Yes?"

"Boss is asking for you," He let me know. "In his room." He smiled and I nodded, turning around. "You look beautiful but he isn't going to be happy." When is he ever happy? He has the personality of paint drying on a wall.

"He can deal with it." I smiled and he smirked down at me, shaking his head.

"Trouble, that's what you are." I know, I happen to like me as this.

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