*Isadora’s POV* It was a good thing that Mattias had to meet with someone before the actual meeting between capos that he had told me about because he didn’t have time to force himself on me. Being that we were short on time, he barely said a word to me while we got ready. His cologne was also making me feel even more queasy, so I can’t promise I wouldn’t have barfed all over him if he had gotten any closer than he was. As soon as I stepped out of the closet in the tight skirt, silver, lace and backless shirt with six-inch heels, Mattias stopped buttoning the cufflinks on his shirt. His eyes slowly scanned my body, making me uncomfortable. I finally moved and walked towards the bathroom, hoping like hell that he wouldn’t ignore the fact that we were running late, and he wouldn’t get any ideas. I looked into the mirror, catching his eyes as he approached me from behind. My heart hammered in my chest when I noticed the intention in his eyes. The vomit burned my throat as I forced

*Alberto’s POV* Heaven. Most would say that men like me will never make it there. And while that’s probably true, my definition of heaven is completely different. Heaven is a place of peace, where all of our past no longer matters. A devil like me has never found peace until my angel was born. At first, I adored that little girl as her caregiver, her godfather, the man that swore to draw blood at the shed of a single tear on that perfect face of hers. But as the years progressed, and a woman stood before me, I was doomed to the obsession that took over my mind, body, and soul. And though I fought like hell to stay away, I soon realized that she was the peace my soul sought out. My heaven. The light to my darkness. And when you reach heaven, you want nothing else. You hold on to the light for dear life. So when the light is extinguished, possibly ruined for eternity, the darkness becomes all consuming, suffocating to the point of death. Death is the only way to find the light ag

*Nikolai’s POV* ~A little before Alberto’s POV~ I moved through the building quickly, hoping that I could get by without being spotted. Vladimir had given me minutes to get to the beautiful woman before hell broke out. I needed to make sure she was safe. She reminds me a lot about… I swallowed thickly as I pushed the memories to the back of my mind. We didn’t have time for that. My jaw ticked at the thought that I had to sit back and watch everything they did to them for nothing because we never found out what happened to our sister. She was still missing. The biggest buyers, who probably had answers if she was still alive, were supposed to show their faces tonight, but never did. And now, we will be back at square one after this attack. Ебать (Russian: Fūck) I was sure I’d be able to find her location before this point, but I was beginning to think that Ekaterina was really dead. “Hey Russian! Where are you rushing to?” Tank chuckled at his own joke, making me roll my eyes.

*Alberto’s POV* All it took was a few seconds of distraction for the girl with the knife to charge towards my angel. My heart stilled in my chest as I shouted a warning to Isadora. We are so close. I can’t fūcking lose her now. Or ever. Isadora moved her body sideways just as the girl, who I now recognize as Santoro’s daughter, swung the knife, slashing Isa’s biceps. Blood trickled down my angel’s arm as she glared at the bītch. I instantly raised the gun I was holding higher as I walked further into the room, but I stopped myself from shooting in case Isa made any sudden moves. Reflexively, she gripped her own arm as she lifted her leg, and shoved her heel into the girl’s stomach, knocking her backwards. I was only a few steps away from her by then and was able to catch her before she could fall, dropping my gun in the process. Her breath hitched before her wild eyes raised to meet my dark ones. Ones that were filled with thirst for death and vengeance. Before Santoro’s dau

*Alberto’s POV* I lifted the glass to my lips as I glared through my bedroom window, the fist in my pocket threatening to rip through the material. My mind was in overdrive as I planned. Figuring out the most painful deaths for Ventura and Santoro was at the top of the list. The bitter liquid burned down my throat and didn’t work one bit to control my emotions. My rage, specifically. All I had to do was think about my angel, and my anger doubled. We haven’t talked about it. About what she went through. I’m trying to give her time, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it. I’m a fūcking mess as it is. A ticking time bomb. I was lifting my whiskey back to my lips when I heard the water in the bathroom shut off, making me close my eyes as I schooled in my anger. I didn’t want to put more shīt on her as we impatiently waited for the results. I had every intention of having the doctors give me the results right then and there, but they told us it would be at least an h