Luca Romano is a force to be reckoned with - a powerful, wealthy man who commands respect and fear in equal measure. He's ruthless to his enemies, but to those he loves, he's fiercely loyal and protective.
And I am his. From the moment I entered his...
"I told her I don't like liars, so why would I lie to her?" Layla stands up, walking over to her desk as she shuffles through files.
"Because of fear?"
"I fear no one,"
"We already had this conversation before, I want to ask you-you always talk about her in the past tense except for when you say the word 'love'. Why?"
"You know Layla, I like you-a lot. You're clever and you catch onto things really quick."
She prepares for a challenge by folding her arms. Her long cream-colored skirt that reached the floor and her long blouse go together perfectly with her headscarf. She walks over to me and reclines on the couch as I watch her.
"You're going to tell me things about myself."
"Not going to tell, in fact guess."
"Go on Mr Romano." I like this one. "Normally I am not allowed to share my personal life, but I'll let it slide one time."
"Mother of two-"
"Three."
"Married."
"Was."
"Dead."
"Three years."
"Loved?"
"Love."
"Exactly." She raises a brow. "You still love him no matter where he is,"
"Athena died?"
"We'll find out at the end, but she did nearly die-so let's get back to our story."
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She used to kiss me goodnight, she made sure to read me my favourite stories before I slept so that the nightmares of the monster never came.
She was my best friend.
And now she's dead.
The nightmare came back, I shoot up from the bed-all sweaty.
My heart rate speeding out my rib cage, I look around the darkness and notice that Luca is not here. He has probably gone to work; I slide out of the bed needing some water. Just as I reach the handle of the door, my slippers touch onto something soggy.
I glance down and notice dark blood from beneath the door sinking into my room, my eyes widen as I look around the room.
Think.
As I make my way back to my nightstand, I pull open my draw, slide out my gun, and flick it open to check the if it is loaded. I nearly tip toe to the wardrobe and lock the gun as quietly as I can before setting it down on the bed, taking care to make no noise at all.
I slide off my shirt, grabbing my training gear as I hurriedly change into it.
I return to the bed wearing my combat boots, a crop top, tight black leggings, and a tight bun in my hair. I slide the two knives into my thigh strap after stowing the gun in there as well.
