[ONGOING]
Book 3 in the Del Rosso series
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"You."
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Reyna Del Rosso, the heir to the Spanish Mafia. A woman who was fed with a spoon made of gold. She got everyth...
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The morning after poker, I woke up to a note from Leonid, which was really unexpected. It was on my nightstand with the words for the damage written on it and beside the note was a hundred dollar bill. I hate the way my stomach churned at the gesture and I hate to admit but I stared at the note a little longer than needed. Both from shock and confusion.
You know what, I don't care. He should pay for ruining my underwear. The bastard.
Anyways, on to more important matters. We're finally going back to New York. After we left Dominic's base we figured there's nothing more to do in Switzerland and we'll just look over the information we have in New York.
I'm glad we're going home. I miss my bed, my parents, my brother, and my best friend. Though I think she might be in Saudi Arabia by now for her brother's wedding.
We're on the plane back right now. I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything since this morning. Kai's asleep so I decide I'm gonna sleep it off and as I'm starting to drift off, I jolt awake when I hear a thud followed along with,
"Eat." Leonid grumbles, pushing white container towards me.
"Dude," I intake a sharp exhale and send him a glare. "There's nicer ways to wake people up."
His fingers suddenly tangle into my hair and he tugs on it to force me to meet his gaze. "Call me dude again," He warns gruffly. "And I swear to fuck."
"Calm your tits, dude." I scoff and roll my eyes, not the least bit affected by his threats since I'm use to them. He's all talk. He doesn't actually do shit.
"Eat your fucking food," He narrows his eyes at me and I smirk. "And shut up."
"You got me food?" I ask, raising a brow in suspicion. Maybe he poisoned it. My trust for this guy is as far as I can throw him and I can't throw him.
"I just didn't wanna hear you bitching later." He grumbles. He never smiles. He's always a moody son of a bitch.
"Get off," I push him away from me and shove the container into his chest. "I'm not eating this."
"And why's that?" He asks, tilting his head.
"How do I know you haven't poisoned it?"
He rolls his eyes and slides into the seat in front of me. "Trust me, this isn't how I would want to kill you." He replies, placing the container in front of me again. "Now, eat for fuck sakes."
"No." I say in defiance although my stomach is saying a completely different story.
"Eat, don't eat, I don't fuckin' care." He says like he couldn't give less of a fuck. Asshole.
"Fine." I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at him.
"You're stubborn, you know that?" He copies my pose and pins me with a glare of his own almost like a challenge so I take him up on it. Let's see who'll break eye contact first.
