MasukElena Richardson is thrown into the harsh criminal world and she is unprepared, not for the target that is on her back, nor the budding romance between her and her captor. Would she survive the target on her life? How long would she able to resist the irresistible hitman, Orlando?
Lihat lebih banyakThere was a pin-drop silence, a stark contrast from the noise that had just been emanating from the cramped apartment. Of course, the neighbors paid no heed to them like always; they were all sick of the constant fighting. She couldn’t blame them; anyone would be sick of it.
Violet stared wide-eyed at the lump figure on the floor, lifeless, blood seeping out unabated, soaking the dingy rug. The face of the man who had swept her off her feet when they first met was now a crushed skull and mangled flesh. Her nose crinkled at the rusty smell of fresh blood. Her dark locks were sticking out at odd angles. A purple bruise was beginning to form around her left eye.The little girls began to cry. Soft cries turned to wails, and her heart broke at the fear in their voices. Nobody deserved to see the sight before them, not young children at least. She pulled the girls in for a hug, wiped the tears from their eyes, and wiped blood from the little cuts on their hands, paying no heed to the blood oozing out from her split lip and broken nose. It was not anything she was not used to.It took her a moment to glance at the lanky eleven-year-old boy standing in the corner. He was no longer brandishing the ceramic vase in his small, frail hands; his hands were lowered, and his stance was relaxed. His overgrown black locks fell over his eyes. His bowed head was all the indication she needed to know that he was scared.Unlike the girls, he was not one to show emotions at all. She had found it hard to understand him every time. So she gave her next words long thought; heavens know she had. She took a deep breath and searched her heart for the right words to say to her son, and she said, “What have you done, Nathan?” She regretted the words immediately.He looked at her from underneath long lashes and hair. Emotions passed through his expressive grey eyes. The most prominent was fear; she knew it because it was all they felt only moments ago.Her eyes watered as she held his gaze; he took a couple of steps backward. She stood erect, her hands outstretched towards him. “Nat...Nathan…” her lips quivered.The vase dropped from his hands and shattered into many pieces. Then he was out the door. “Nathan! Nathan!” she rushed towards the door, but he had gone as far and fast as his small legs could carry him.Violet reasoned he needed some time away, some time to be alone and clear his head. In all fairness, they all did. He would be back, she thought to herself, but it was the last time she ever laid eyes on her son.They walked around the store picking out a few items from the shelf; the basket was half full. When they got to the snack bar, he went wild. He threw in every snack he could lay his hand on, from sour to too sweet. She stopped protesting a long time ago because it was futile. He picked out a random jean short, two big t-shirts. Then he went to the underwear section; he stared at the underwear on display on the mannequin and then back at her. At that point, she was convinced there couldn’t be any day more embarrassing than today was. Her face was flushed; she avoided eye contact. He glanced at her and then back at the mannequin. He grabbed a few of them and then pulled her toward the bathroom. He whispered to Andre and handed him the rest of the other items. Andre nodded and walked away, and then they were finally alone.“Thank you,” she said to him as she extended a hand to take the items she needed from him, but he was still holding on. She glanced at the sign that said la
Elena jumped up in fright as the doors flung open. Orlando rushed in, worry etched on his features. His eyes scanned her body repeatedly.“Are you okay?” he asked as he closed the distance between them.She was taken aback, she merely nodded.He didn’t look convinced as he took in her appearance again. “What is the matter? The security guy at your door came to me…” He trailed off.“I…” She began playing with her fingers and avoided his gaze. “I…, I got my period,” she blurted out and averted her gaze. Her cheeks burned from embarrassment.It took him a moment to understand what she meant. He let out an inaudible sigh. The urgency with which the man had relayed the message, even interrupting a private meeting he was having with Don Russo, had caused him to panic. Well, he couldn’t blame him, he had put him in a chokehold over an open window, twenty stories high and threatened him to make sure Elena had what she needed at all times.
“I heard the tale of your epic failure…” Romano poured two glasses of whisky. “I am surprised you got out of that situation without Orlando having your head.” Sebastian took the glass from him. “I hope it stays that way,” his tone was threatening. Romano raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t say a word. What happened with the men you sent?” “I took care of it,” he exhaled and leaned backward on his chair. “I regret sending out the men to his home.” Romano took a sip from his glass. “You couldn’t help it, Sebastian. You need the art as much as I do, maybe even more. You have never been the type to overlook things like this…” “It wasn’t about the art.” Romano chuckled. “Pray tell then, what was it about?” His jaw ticked as he glared at him. “I wanted to show him he was reckless…” Romano shook his head. “Don’t sweat it, Sebastian. You’re not convincing anybody.” He
When she walked into her room that morning, she did not know what she was expecting to see, but she definitely was not expecting her room to be redecorated into a mini art station. The space near the tall glass windows overlooking the garden had a lot of items. There were canvas pieces of different sizes, arranged side by side. In a large cup holder, there were a variety of different brushes, including small detail brushes and flat brushes. There was a stool and a chair. A small apron was neatly folded and laid out on the stool. There were different buckets and palettes of paint; it was hard to identify which was which in one glance. There was a stack of sketchbooks and pencils on the tables and lots of other things she did not even realize she needed.Her hands went over her mouth as her lips curved into a wide smile. She chuckled lightly. It reminded her of old times. The first time her father went shopping for art supplies on her behalf. He had gotten all these random th






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