جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 33

You know what’s hilarious? In trashy romance books or movies, the second a girl saves the billionaire mob boss's life by getting all bloody in the backseat of a car, what happens? He wakes up, looks at her with these big, soulful eyes, and whispers some cheesy crap about how she changed his cold, dead heart. Yeah. Total fiction. Zero percent chance that was happening with Alexander Vance. Because the next morning, when I finally got word that he was awake—sedated out of his mind and looking like absolute death on a medical cot—did he send me a sweet little text? Did he say thank you for literally keeping his blood inside his body? Lol. Absolutely not. Instead, Viktor handed me a heavy, encrypted tablet with a list of rules and security protocols that looked like a federal indictment. "The boss is conscious, but he's resting," Viktor told me, standing by the kitchen island in my suite like an overprotective gargoyle. "He reviewed the morning security log. He specifically asked if

Bro, if anyone ever tells you that sneaking into an enemy mob warehouse for a "quick data heist" is a good idea, please do me a favor and punch them right in the face. Because standing inside a glass-walled office suspended above a dark warehouse while heavily armed Italian mafia soldiers shouted death threats through megaphones? Not my vibe. Zero out of ten stars. Would not recommend. *"Come down with your hands on your head, or we burn this whole damn building to the ground!"* the megaphone voice echoed again, rattling the glass partitions right next to my head. The blinding white floodlights from below were cutting straight through the windows, making the tiny office feel like an interrogation room on death row. I looked at Viktor. Viktor looked at Davis. Davis looked like he was mentally drafting his last will and testament. "Alright, update," I whispered, my voice shaking so hard I could barely form the syllables. I was frantically mashing my hand against the USB port, yank