I Am Not A Prostitute: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)

Chapter 33

Calla POV:

"I need to talk to her, Sinister." I said quietly.

We had been sitting in his room for a few hours, he held me tightly in his arms, and I traced the bite marks I had left when I fought him.

Calla the shark.

Rawr.

"How do you know her again?" He asked softly, as he gave me a tight squeeze.

He was about to kill her, but he didn't. He said he had to kill her, but he didn't because I begged him not to.

Maybe he wasn't just a monster. Maybe, there was light to his darkness. Some sort of weird reverse-flashlight shit.

"She was there the night you took me, it was my birthday and we went to this club..." I shook my head, I hated thinking about that night, "she's all I have, Sin."

Brie had always been the crazy one in our friendship, but she was my first friend when I had moved from Russia. We had met at the library downtown, she was studying next to me and I thought that she had dropped this book. So, naturally, I picked it up for her. It turns out it was the bible. When I set it down in front of her she stared at me like I had just asked her for a female condom. She told me that she'd burn if she touched a bible. We've been friends ever since.

She may have not always been the best friend, or the best influence, but she was honestly all that I really had.

"I know you need to talk to her, but I think you should also know why I felt the need to kill her."

I nodded, "I was there. I heard everything."

"Calla, her boyfriend is the leader of the Italian Mafia, our biggest threat. I don't know why I'm even letting her fucking live."

I shook my head, "I didn't even know she had a boyfriend. That night at the club I thought she had gone home with some random guy, I guess that must have been her boyfriend."

Sinister pressed a soft kiss to my head, and I felt a pull at my heart.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a fucking second. No way am I feeling anything for this soulless murderous bastard. He's my kidnapper, this can't be some idiotic Stockholm Syndrome shit. This man has held me at gunpoint multiple times, his little 'nickname' for me is the Russian terminology of bitch.

Yet, here I was, in the arms of Satan himself, with not a care in the fucking world.

I disgust myself.

"Calla, you need to understand that keeping her alive, means that she has to stay here. She will never be able to leave. She is now a prisoner of the Russian Mafia."

I cocked my head to the side "Won't the Italians come looking for her?"

He shook his head slightly, "they'll never know where to look, and besides, this compound is more heavily guarded than the Kremlin."

Heh...Russia.

"I have to talk to her."

He nodded in agreement as he lifted himself off the bed.

"Calla, I want you to know something..." He said softly. His iced eyes looking softly into mine.

He took in a breath, "everything I do, is for a reason. I am sorry you have to see he worst of me, but that is who I am, and how I have to be. I care about you, more than you will ever know."