Twenty-Five

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"Any word from Antonio?" Sasha strode in with water and a bowl of soup with two bread slices balancing off the edge

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"Any word from Antonio?" Sasha strode in with water and a bowl of soup with two bread slices balancing off the edge. I pushed myself into a sitting position on the floor from doing pushups and took the water he handed me. I looked at the bowl in his hand and shook my head. "What?" He asked incredulously.

"Where did you get that?" I gulped down the small bottle and tossed it at his head. "You ate thirty minutes ago."

"I stole it from one of the sergeants." He grinned, and when he saw the deadly look on my face, that grin dropped. "I'm kidding—"

"Well, I don't fucking kid," I growled, getting off the floor.

"These are leftovers." He rolled his eyes. "I may have flirted for another bowl. Look, you can't blame me. That's the only good thing on the menu. I'm not eating cardboard served eggs and—"

"Just shut the fuck up and eat," Marco growled from the corner of the tent. Sasha smirked, going to sit near the small table in the centre.

When we arrived this morning, Incumbent General Alfonso Huerta cleared a tent for us for twelve hours. I had to pay a fucking shit load of money for this. You would think I'd receive a discount, not that I cared for it, but no. I was Pahkan, and they didn't give a fuck about that. They were offering their services, and I had to pay for them.

"So?"

"No." Right then, my phone rang. I answered and pressed it to my ear. "Mikhailov."

"Javier is fucking around the clock. He gave me a time—4 p.m."

"What the fuck do you mean he gave you a time?"

"I can't pull any more strings." He sighed. "No one has touched her because of the exchange I made."

"Let me guess; I can't come to this meeting?" I gritted my teeth, throwing on my T-shirt.

"I can't even enter with a fucking gun, so no. No one but me."

"I'm not fucking with you, Rossi."

"I'm not fucking lying, Mikhailov. At first, I'd steal her right under your nose, but that baby deserves a fucking father." There he was, throwing the 'B' word in my face. I bet he knew it got to me because Mikhailovs don't disown their children.

Fyodor may have been a motherfucker, but he loved Katya and my mother in his fucked up way. Power got to his head, and he wanted everyone to think he was the ruthless man he claimed to be.

I, on the other hand, won't push my family away when I know I'm fucking feared in this organisation. If anything, they will taste my wrath if they fuck with anyone close to me.

"Two hours, Rossi. Nothing more, nothing less or else I'm coming for her myself."

"Agreed." He ended the call, and I placed in my sunglasses. "Sasha, get the men from the compound. Inform Bogdan that we are leaving now."

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