Chapter 2 2

DANI

Somewhere in Russia

Ilya Vasilyev's territory

It was five in the morning as I stepped outside the exit door of the nightclub. My footsteps quickened, and my high heels clicking the pavement in the alley echoed so loudly. The streetlights cast an orange glow over the sidewalk, still the easiest way to get mugged.

My apartment was just around the corner. For the past days, something had changed in the air. The city was supposed to be safe, even the nightclub I worked for the last three months, but it didn't feel the same anymore, or I was just getting too paranoid.

I hugged my tote bag tight as the night air was too cold, like a knife against my skin. Despite wearing a thick coat, it felt like it seeped through my bones.

The eerie silence made my skin prickle until something shifted in the air, like something was about to happen.

My heart thudded against my ribs as I began to run, and my legs moved faster of their own accord. I knew I was right to be paranoid. I could feel it. Someone was watching me at the corner.

I managed to reach my apartment building. What I didn't realize was the black SUV idling at the curb. The windows were tinted so black. The headlights flashed, making me jump.

At that moment, I was like the deer caught in the headlights. I froze in my place. My hands shook. My breathing halted. My heart leapt into my throat as the passenger door opened.

I let go of a shuddering breath as the familiar face came out of the SUV.

"Volk." My voice came out shaky and thin.

Volk was one of Ilya's men. He was practically a giant with albinism and grey eyes. Ilya Vasilyev was a ruthless Russian Mafia Don who just took over his father's position when Nikolae deteriorated from cancer.

How did I end up working with the Russian Bratva? It was a long story, but to make the story short. About a couple of years ago, I found out my biological father, Francesco Giordani, was an Italian Mafia boss. My brother Tomas was murdered, so I attended his funeral. That was how I figured out that people around me were not normal. They carried guns, probably even in their sleep. They were intense. It didn't have to take rocket science to figure out who they were.

I didn't know him very well. When my father talked about arranging a marriage, I found a way to escape. I mean, who did that anymore? I had my own free will. I could choose my boyfriend.

Before I visited Italy, I had a boyfriend. So, when Francesco talked about marriage, I knew I had to get away from him, from his dangerous business.

All mafias and bratva had enemies, and I saw the fear in his eyes every time he mentioned Nikolae Vasilyev. I took the risk and used my American name and traveled to Russia so that my father and his men couldn't take me and arrange for another ruthless mafia to solidify his alliances.

"Miss Dani, you need to come with us." Volk dragged his English in a thick Russian accent.

"Can't it wait until morning?" I shouldn't have questioned him. He wouldn't have come all the way here if it weren't important. Besides, it was already morning. I was just pretty shaken up earlier.

"No, Miss Dani."

"Did I do something wrong?" I clutched my bag tighter to my chest.

"No, no, no. Pakhan wants to talk to you, and it's urgent."

Another man came out from the SUV, and I would say, the bratva didn't take no for an answer. Before Maxsim, one of the lieutenants could drag me into the SUV, I climbed inside.

The ride to Vasilyev's estate was silent and tense. I closed my eyes and fought back my tears.

Ilya's men were scattered everywhere. Two more SUVs were parked in front of his mansion.

My gut told me something just happened. God, I hoped it wasn't my father who came all the way here to take me or arrange me with one of Ilya's men, seeking protection or alliances.

I knew Francesco had enemies in Italy as well. Mafias like them were not safe everywhere, and they always wanted power, control, and money. The greedier they became, the more enemies they collected.

Volk ushered me inside while these soldiers were scrutinizing me with their intense eyes. I knew they never trusted me, knowing who I was and where I came from, but I worked and made sure I didn't cause problems because, honestly, I needed their protection. With one word coming from their boss, it was enough to keep me safe.

The thick wooden door to Ilya's office swung open. The strong musk of a male perfume coming from inside hit my nostrils.

"Come in. Come in." Ilya gestured with his hand. He was sitting in his royal chair behind his classic royal desk like a king. Ilya was so attractive with dark hair and intense blue-green eyes. He always dressed in dark suits. He could easily pass as an action star if he ever auditioned.

"Thank you, Mr. Vasilyev." I smiled politely even though my nerves were everywhere.

Russian women and foreigners flucked at him even if they knew what he did for a living, but if what I heard was true, he fell in love with an American woman, and his heart only belonged to that one lucky woman.

"May I ask what I am here for, sir?"

"Your father asked someone to bring you home."

I gasped. My legs felt like burning candles, slowly melting to their base.

Ilya instantly saw my reaction. When he asked me about my purpose and reason why I wanted to work in his club, I told him everything, who my father was before he found out and put a bullet in my head. It took me a week before I could meet him, and I knew he didn't take my word for it until he did background checks.

"Do you wanna go home, Danielle?" he added.

I shook my head, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'd rather hang myself, but if you fired me, then I can't do anything about it but find another job."

"I'm not firing you. I just can't say no to this man. I owed him, but he's a good man. You have to hear him out first," he said calmly in an almost perfect American accent.

"If he will take me to my father, sir. My life is over. You know that. I can't risk my life and get married to a cold-hearted monster."

He tilted his head. A dark smile curved up his lips. "Yet, you chose to come here and work at the nightclub, putting makeup on my dancers."

"Yes, it's dangerous to work for you, but you don't have the intention of tying me in marriage. Please? I'll do anything–"

He raised his left hand. "Don't say you'll do anything. That's not a good negotiation, especially for a young, beautiful woman like you. Anyone who hears you say that will take advantage of you. I'm sorry, Danielle. I like you working for me, but I have to let you go. I'll give you until eleven in the morning to pack your things." When he opened his drawer, a single tear rolled down my cheek.

My heart sank. I knew my stay wasn't permanent. His nightclub was only a temporary shelter, but I never thought he would sell me out to someone he owed.

He put a thick white envelope on top of his desk. "You can take the train to the next city. Then take a flight to Türkiye. There's an address inside. You'll be safe there while you're figuring out your next move."

"Why are you still helping me?" I blinked up, shocked.

"Because I promised you safety and security."

"Thank you." I wiped the tears off my face. "Who's the man he sent to find me?"