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        ELENA CASSANO

Papà pulled me into a room after the attack, his firm hold on my elbow as he gazed into my eyes. "What the fuck is going on? What was that little stunt in the ballroom? You know not to hide anything from me."

        "I'm not hiding anything." I swallowed hardly staring into his dark eyes.

        "Then what do you call what you've been doing with Vetrov?"

        I clenched my teeth, biting my tongue from what I truly wanted to say. "We're friends." Absolute bullshit. The closest thing Vetrov and I had gotten to friends was Papà's luncheons where neither of us talked. We hated each other. He hated me with every blackness in his fucking soul. And I wanted to fuck with the asshole every chance I got.

        Friends was such a trivial word compared to what we had.

        "Friends." Papà let out a bitter laugh. "Don't fuck him, Elena. Not him." I fought the urge to laugh. He thought I had no shame or self-worth. I would rather fucking kill myself before fucking Vetrov.

        "I have standards, papà." Unlike you. "Anything else?"

        "You didn't get a chance to meet Adriano. You can't keep avoiding him no matter how much you want to. Don't let it happen again." He warned, his voice low and dark.

        I ignored the burning feeling that pierced through my fucking heart and faked a smile. "Yes, papà. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

        He eyed me with a cautious look. "Emilio will be here within the week. Don't fuck things up for me. I don't want to hear about another dead husband or fiancé. Do you understand?"

        I smiled sweetly, peeling my elbow from his hold. Seriously, what was with men and my elbow? "I understand."

        "Good." He paused, his dark eyes flickering down to his phone where he got a call. "Get the fuck out."

        "Gladly."

        I stalked downstairs past the foyer and headed towards the kitchen where Alessio and his men were quietly talking in hushed tones. I presumed they were talking about the hotel attack that happened earlier. After the Russian ordered me to stay, Nicolo and Alessio found me a few minutes later and brought me back to the mansion.

        Of course, Mamma being the sentimental woman she is, teared up and sobbed a story about how she couldn't lose her daughter.

        That was the last I heard about the Russian. Otherwise, I hoped he was avoiding me because if I saw him again, I would be throwing more than my fucking red bottoms at that ridiculously handsome face of his.

        Even if he did protect me.

        "Elena." Alessio hissed as I walked towards the fridge, bending down slightly to peek my head into the fridge. I knew what he was referring to. Apparently, I was a disruption in his meetings because his soldiers couldn't keep their eyes away from my body for five fucking seconds.

        Like that was my fault.

        I grabbed the tub of strawberry ice-cream from the fridge, reaching towards the cabinet for a spoon when Alberto stopped me.

        He passed me a silver spoon with a small smile. "Thank you, Berto." I smiled, deciding that Alberto was one of my favorites. Then I turned around and shot a dark glare towards Alessio. "It's not my fault my ass is enticing. They're allowed to admire perfection."

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