Desired By The Mafia Boss

Chapter 4

What a sour man. It was as if he was perpetually waking up on the wrong side of the bed. She took a quick glance downstairs and noticed it was filled with poker tables and various other gambling setups. The area was teeming with more people than she could count. She couldn't even tell from the outside.

The bustling scene disappeared from view as she trailed behind Hanzo upstairs. She kept her focus straight ahead, getting a prime view of Hanzo's muscular back. He was impressively tall. And broad. Those shoulders...mmm.

Her eyes wandered downwards, eventually landing on his wrists bound in leather. Interesting, she thought. He didn't strike her as the type to be interested in accessories just for the sake of it.

They reached the office, and Hanzo pushed open the door. Before her was a large room that overlooked the Manila skyline, with a high-end mahogany desk at the center. She didn't need to ask if it was his; she could already tell. But what a lavish office for a Motorcycle Club President.

It was clear he didn't frequent this place. There were no photos or stacks of paperwork, no coffee cups or signs of regular use. This must be just one of his many ventures. She could only speculate that a man like him had more than one source of income. It's what she would do.

"So..." Hanzo began, interrupting her thoughts, his curiosity piqued. "This so-called date... tell me about it."

He gestured to a leather chair, and she took the seat without needing to be asked twice. He returned moments later, took his seat behind his desk, and offered her a first aid kit. She accepted the item and began to explain the interaction between Nomer and herself, as well as the date, to the best of her ability. "We only started chatting yesterday...."

She concluded her story and could tell Hanzo was doing his best to suppress laughter. His eyes sparkled as he chuckled. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Jessy. If what you're saying is true, it's a booty call - at best. There's no way that was going to be a date. Can't believe you fell for that nonsense." The deep timbre of his laughter echoed in her ears. "Honestly, I expect more from a psychologist."

"You're not very pleasant, are you?"

"Sharp observation, Einstein. What else did you deduce in that pretty mind of yours?"

Did he just call her pretty? Pfft. Yeah, right! He probably says that to all the girls. Then she remembered, this was no joke. Someone just tried to kill her.

She faced Hanzo. "Those men, the Russians. The bodies, they have no fingerprints. They've been burned off?"

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the desk. "And that tells you?"

She frowned as the pieces began to fall into place. "They're most likely to be hired killers..."

Hanzo nodded to himself. "Exactly. Now, what the heck are hired Russian assassins doing trying to kill you? They don't come cheap. At least a quarter of a million a pop. No offense, Jessy, but you ain't worth that much."

She narrowed her brows. "Gee, thanks. Look, I don't know why. If I did, I wouldn't be here right now."

"What else?"

"I think they were trying to make it look like an accident." Her fingers paused over the bottle of antiseptic. "But why? That doesn't make any sense. I'm a nobody."

"Now there's the million-dollar question."

"What am I supposed to do, now?"

Hanzo gave it some thought. "What's there to consider? These guys are after you. They won't stop until you're dead. You need to stay alive? Right?"

His leather chair squeaked as he leaned in closer. "Three months of protection in exchange for a no questions asked IOU. That should be enough time for you to figure it out for yourself. You seem smart. You'll be fine."

She shook her head, her grip tightening over the armrests. "No way. I have no idea what I'm agreeing to. And if what you're saying is true, that doesn't solve the problem of someone trying to kill me." She adjusted her sodden blazer. "I'll have you know that I am a very busy woman. I don't have time to die. I have a lot of paperwork to finish."

"I don't remember that part being my problem. I took care of two guys for you already. Their blood is on your hands, Darling." Hanzo drawled the last word out sarcastically, jabbing at her. "And I didn't even get anything in return."

Hanzo shook his head and tutted. Then he leisurely got up from his seat and made his way to the small bar in the corner. He selected a bottle of sake from one of the shelves, murmuring to himself. "Unlike me, if I do say so myself. Must be having an off day."

This man was so... handsome, but so exasperating-ugh!

She impatiently tossed the bottle of antiseptic into the medical bag. "You must be joking! How can their blood be on my hands?! Are your legs weary from jumping to conclusions yet?"

Hanzo surprisingly threw back his head and laughed deeply, as if she'd just told the funniest joke in the world. Her n*****s tightened at the sight, and she frowned. Good heavens, that's never happened before. What on earth, Jessy?! Don't you know he's a criminal- a killer?! She was probably no more than an ant to someone like him.

She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping to dispel the heat now pulsating between her thighs. Who on earth did this guy think he was?!

Hanzo dismissively raised a finger at her and she returned his gesture with a glare. "You've got some gall, Darling. Do you know who the heck you're talking to?"

She raised a finger. "Firstly, don't call me that. And secondly, can I even trust you?! How do I know you aren't worse than the guys after me? You killed two men!" She raised two exasperated fingers to illustrate and waved them in front of his face. "Two!"

"Jesus Christ. Kusho!" He cursed in Japanese. "You should be on your damn knees thanking me! I saved your life!"

"You mean I should thank you after you held a knife to my throat?!" She huffed with indignation and rolled her eyes. "Honestly. These justifications are becoming more absurd by the second."

Hanzo chuckled, a bottle of sake nestled in his right hand. "Suppose I should just let these guys kill you, then." He strolled towards her, and standing less than a meter away, gestured to the door. "Alright, you can leave. Go on. Scram."

Damn. She was a dead woman. She found herself carefully choosing her words as panic washed over her. "If you let them kill me, the police will come looking. You'll be implicated and they'll come right here. You're the one who killed those guys-not me! It was revolting!" She visibly paled in disgust. "Absolutely horrifying."