7

SAVIO RUSSO 

I was not going to lie, I hadn't done anything remotely close to this. I couldn't remember the last time I was in a room with a girl and I wasn't fucking her senseless.

Fuck. I couldn't even remember the last time I got laid.

It took a lot to shock me, but seeing Skylar Duval in La Haven for the first time that night two weeks ago had shocked me senseless. This was the last place I expected to see her, but frankly, I was glad she walked right through my doors.

Where Dimitri and Lorenzo owned regular strip joints, nightclubs such as Paradiso and Club Sapphire, and casinos. I owned La Haven. It was home for whatever anyone wanted to indulge in. Some used it to live out their wildest sexual fantasies, while others used it for some kind of safe pace. The safety and security of the members are my priority as well as protecting the identities of my employees. That was why every employee had a uniform consisting of black cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt with a skeletal face mask to cover their faces.

Only a few people knew I was the owner of La Haven, and I liked to keep it that way. La Haven and Russo Tech were the only legitimate businesses I owned. I owned a trucking company which I used to transport weapons in aircon units for Dimitri, Lorenzo, and a few Mafia allies in the Cosa Nostra, which recently included Davano, the Turkish Mafia don after he helped us greatly in Montenegro.

Sitting on the floor with Skylar fucking Duval, of all people, was the last thing I'd expected to do for the tenth time in two weeks.

But it was weirdly satisfying.

I loved hearing her speak. Her soft exhale. And the warm, expressive look in her eyes whenever she stared at me when she thought I wasn't looking. It was nothing sexual, just sheer curiosity but I loved being her confidant. A friend, even though that was the last thing I'd wanted from her. 

In the last two weeks, she had told me so much about herself, her thoughts, and a little of the life she'd lived back in Montenegro, all in blurred details, of course, but the petrified look in her whenever she vaguely spoke about Tymon made me wish I hadn't killed him so easily. He deserved a fate far worse than a merciful death by my hands.

Damn, I hated it.

“J?”

Instantly, I snapped out of my thoughts at the sound of her soft call. Skylar had no idea who I truly was, I bet she'd die of a heart attack when she discovered who I was. Her savior as she so demurely called Savio Russo. It fucking damned pleased me to hear her speak about her savior, which had so much admiration and an almost unnoticeable smile.

It was then I knew I'd do anything to see that smile of hers again.

Skylar Duval was nothing short of an angel on earth. Her beauty was one of a kind. For a sick-minded twisted moment, I could see exactly why she'd been Tymon's prized possession. Why he'd been so obsessed with her? Only a blind man wouldn't pay a second glance at her. She was perfection itself, only if she'd realized it.

Over her visit in the last two weeks, there'd been significant progress in her. It wasn't a big leap, but it was something. At least she was getting used to the idea of her freedom and was beginning to accept the fact that Tymon was dead. He wasn't ever coming back, and would never hurt her. No one would. At least not while I still had life in me.

Skylar had been my responsibility the second she laid her trust in me seven months ago back in Montenegro, and I'd protect her with my last breath if needed.

“J?”

I met her deep blue eyes. When she asked me what I'd like her to call me, I barely hesitated when I told her J, as in James. Not many knew of my middle name, including Skylar.

I watched her set her Burger on the paper bag, her tongue briefly darting out to wet her lips. The innocent action caused my dick to twitch painfully in my pants.

“Yeah?” I spoke softly, distorting my voice. I was thankful for the mask protecting my identity.

“I asked if you had any tattoos?” She repeated.

“Yes,”

Her gaze darted to me. “Can you recommend a tattoo artist?”

“You're staring at him,” I said with a smirk, though she couldn't see with the mask covering my face.

“You do your own tattoos?” Her surprise had me smiling and I nodded.

There were a lot of things I could do, and tattoos were the least impressive of them. Most of the tattoos Dimitri and Lorenzo had were done by me when we were still living on the streets in Kansas after our father ordered his right-hand man to have us killed.

Not wanting to entertain the silence that settled in, I asked. “What kind of tattoo do you want to get?”

“Frankly, I'm not sure. But something nice to cover up an old scar. Do you have any recommendations?”

I tried to cool off the anger simmering within me at the thought that Tymon had not only left mental and emotional scars behind for her, but she had to deal with physical ones too. The thought made me fucking mad.

“I have a few that would be perfect for you when you're ready just let me know, and we'll have it here,”

Her brows furrowed in concern. “Are you sure you won't get into trouble with your bosses for that?”

“I won't. Now don't worry, I'll take care of it,”

“Thank you for doing all of these,” 

“There's no need to thank me. I'm not a therapist but trust me, I'm glad I could help you in some way,”

Her gaze settled on me with stark curiosity and a subtle humor in her voice. “Are you always this nice?”

No, I wasn't.

But instead of answering the question, I let out a soft chuckle.

“You know, earlier this week, I had a crazy thought. I wondered how my life would have been if nothing had gone wrong three years ago,” If the Whitmans hadn't been too greedy and joined hands with Ivan Gambino, the Slovakia Mafia don. If her parents hadn't died and she hadn't ended up with Tymon Mazur. “I might have gone to college, probably be living my dreams and falling in love,”

You still can. The words were almost at the tip of my tongue, but now wasn't the best time to say those words.

“What would you have majored in college?”

She thought for a while. “Probably Art. I took after my mom's artistic nature. While my sister had majored in business to take over Dad's company,”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. I spared her s glance. “Give me a moment,”

“Sure,”

Getting up, I walked to the door and stepped out. A frown formed on my forehead as I saw Ronan.

“Blade has been calling relentlessly,” He handed me my phone, and I scrolled through the several missed calls left by Dimitri, also nicknamed Blade.

I stalked away from the door, towards the security room before I made a call through to him.

“What’s up?” I said the second he picked up.

“Fuck. I've been calling you for forever,” He hissed in frustration, getting my attention, because Dimitri was never frustrated. Atleast he didn't show it unless something had happened.

“What happened?”

“Lev and Ivan are dead,”