All Robin Silvestre wanted was to save her sister's life, but through the manipulation of Don Pagano she's plunged into the deep end of organized crime.
All Daewon wants is to keep Robin safe but when he becomes tangled in Salvador Gianni's web of...
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"Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world Money, money, money Always sunny In the rich man's world"
His office alone was a form of intimidation. Every piece of exquisitely made furniture exuded pure power. The wall-to-ceiling windows made Robin feel vulnerable, exposed to dark eyes that immediately thumbed through every thought portrayed in her visage. An easy read.
The massive bookshelves and drawers towered over her, lumbering giants beckoned from wood by expert carpentry. Besides his desk, a couch, two angled chairs, light decor, and densely packed shelves Robin was the only other object in the room. She froze, dull black heels sinking into a plush red rug.
This man was used to getting what he wanted. Robin could tell by the way he held himself, settled behind a mammoth desk engraved with intricate designs and rimmed with gold. He held an open folder before him, but she could feel his calculating stare scrutinize her. She glanced back at Daewon who took his place dutifully at the side of the closing doors, staring straight out the window to the dog park next door. When she turned back around, Pagano had placed the folder on his desk and was captivated by his computer.
"Sit." He tilted his head to the velvet chairs before him. Omnipresent eyes remained trained on the screen, peering through sleek glasses. Faster than anticipated Robin was sitting mere feet across from him. She noticed the glass of amber sitting next to his computer.
A drink sounded fantastic.
"Silvestre's girl, right?" His accent was thick, distinctly Italian but with a little extra sauce. Middle Eastern, maybe. She forced a firm smile.
"Yes, I'm Robin. Po-ah, John says hi." She extended her hand which he accepted readily, grip strong and soft.
He was a handsome older gentleman with a splatter of salt and pepper on his temples that melted into brown curls. Deep olive tan boasted a splatter of freckles across his forehead, and smile lines by his eyes. Proud nose was knotted and sharp, slightly off-kilter. Sloped jaw was covered with a thick but maintained beard. He could pass as a mid-40s lumberjack, but since he was Pop's childhood friend Robin knew he was at least two decades older.
"Mio caro, I'm so sorry about your mother. And with this happening to your sister, well..life's one tough madame."
Robin chuckled, allowing clenched muscles to relax for a moment. "She sure is."
"I see you're here requesting a $50,000 medical loan? Can you outline the expenses this will cover in your own words?" He spun away from his desktop and awarded her his full attention.
Robin folded the documents she was clutching and tucked them under her palms. "The loan will cover the costs of Dove's hospital stay for another two weeks. By then she'll either be in recovery, undergo another surgery, or be put into a medically induced coma to prevent brain death. If she's put in a coma or needs more surgery I won't have the funds for further hospitalization. I'll likely bring her home and look after her myself."
