Alessia
The Russian beckons me over.
I want to refuse, but I’m afraid of what will happen. The guy seems sane enough, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. Especially if he has a beef with my family. I don’t doubt what he told me.
That my brother—I don’t even know which one, but it doesn’t matter—it could’ve been any of them—killed everyone in his cell.
That’s not something I would ever want to know my brothers did, but the truth is, I know we’re mafia. I know violence happens. Probably way more than I want to think.
So I’d probably be wise to cooperate a little with this guy until my brothers get me out of here.
I walk to him, not missing the way his gaze skims over my body. I’m in a dress that clings to my curves in a color that lights up my face. Taking advantage of his veiled
