"Brandi!"
She snapped back into focused and looked at me, "Sorry."
I looked in the direction that she was dead focused on—then I understood. It was my brother Nik, flirting with some girl from our class—Emily.
"It's fine," I said not leading on that I knew about the massive crush she had on him.
"I just wanted to let you know that I can't go shopping today," I said with a frown.
She pouted, her curls bouncing, "How come?"
"Well I'm supposed to sit in on a meeting today," I said rolling my eyes, "They make it seem as if Nikolai isn't the one who is supposed to be responsible. He's the oldest—by 7 minutes—and he's the only boy!"
Brandi shrugged her shoulders, "He's being groomed to take over and you're being groomed to keep his council. Is that not what you want?"
I paused for a moment, not daring the utter the words that I was really thinking—I wanted to be in charge. I wanted what Nik would eventually have...
She raised her eyebrows at me, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking—Brandi had a way of doing that, reading my silence.
"Aleks...I know you want to be a leader—but this is his birthright and he's your brother—
"I know!" I said sighing, "I just can't shake the feeling," I said shrugging, then I smirked at her, "Maybe I should advise him on staying away from girls I don't like."
I glared at my brother, flirting with Emily was to strictly get back at me for phone.
"I hate that he knows he's good looking," I said crossing my arms against my chest, "He attracts girls like shit attracts flies," I scoffed.
Brandi laughed, "Let him live, he'll be forced to pick a bride—one from a prominent family."
"Ah yes, the beloved arranged marriages of the life," I rolled my eyes in aggravation, "We kill people, bribe, steal, and for some reason the morality of who we share a bed with is unbreakable."
"Well not all arranged marriages turn out badly—look at your grandparents," she pointed out.
I smiled, "They're one in a million." It was true, their love was so great, my grandfather Mikhail waged a decade long mafia war just to find her when she was taken.
"Take in consideration my other grandparents," I started, "They are the worst couple and to top it off they hate my mother for having us with my father."
"You always said the Spanish were different from the Russians," she said.
"The Spanish are very different, at least in the way that history shows. Women were groomed to be leaders and males alike. The firstborn took over no matter what," I glanced at my brother, "That's gone on long enough don't you think?"
Brandi looked over at Nik, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Come on," I insisted, "Emily keeps smiling at me. She's asking for it," I shrugged, "Besides, if I break her nose, she'll get the next nose job for free."
I laughed and Brandi frowned at me, "Your mom is gonna kill you."
I stood up, "It'll be worth it."
______
Aleks
"This is your grandmother," Guillermo said throwing her to her knees in front of me, "Feel free to get better acquainted."
He shut the barred door and walked away, leaving only the sounds of his shoes hitting the floor in his wake.
I took deep breaths trying hard to ignore the woman in front of me while also ignoring the aches in my body and my, probably sprained, wrists. I was attached to the wall my legs and arms were bound to the wall.
"You're Aleksandra, aren't you?"
I paused for a moment, contemplating a response, then reluctantly let my gaze meet hers, "I am."
Once I looked at her any residual doubts of Guillermo actually kidnapping my grandmother Adama disappeared. She was in her 60's, her face had subtle wrinkles and her curls were beginning to turn grey. But her eyes—her unmistakable green eyes—
It felt like looking into my own mothers eyes—eyes that I haven't looked into in almost four years.
"I'm here to sway your opinion on something?" she stated, much more than she had asked.
"It won't work—I don't even know you," I said calmly, trying not to move.
She chuckled softly, "No, no you don't, but I know you, Aleksandra."
I stared at her, not fully sure if I wanted to indulge her, "What exactly do you know about me, Adama?"
She paused for a moment, "You're full name is Aleksandra Katya Svetlana Petrov. You're 21 years old and you're the Black Rose. By the time you were 19, you were fluent in six languages and skilled in multiple different forms of martial arts. At age 16, you began to excel in gymnastics," she smiled at me, "I can keep going, but I know plenty about you Aleksandra. I've kept tabs on all of my grandchildren."
"You expect me to be impressed by this?" I asked her, "Or would you rather I believed that you husband is completely responsible for you absence in our lives—the shunning of your own daughters."
"I don't expect you to believe anything—it's like you said," she shrugged, "You do not know me."
She stood up and looked at me, her face turning stern, "So when they come for you—and they will," she furrowed her eyebrows, "You will give them nothing, no matter what it costs me."
I paused, unsure what to say back to her. I didn't know this woman, but she eerily reminded me of my mother, "It won't come to that, Adama," I took a deep breath, then smiled at her, "They'll be dead before they get the chance."
_______
Brandi
"So you want us to pose as your guards when you land in Spain and from there we'll be taken to your house?" Adalia asked.
Ismael nodded, "I figure the easiest way to hide you both, is in plain sight. What do you think?"
Adalia paused for a moment, "I like it. No one will be looking for me, I'm dead."
Ismael turned to Lorenzo, "And you?"
Lorenzo gave him an unreadable straight face, then reluctantly nodded. I tried hard to keep my smile at bay. There was something about Lorenzo's demeanor that made me think it took a lot for him to not kill Ismael.
He had took me by surprise when I first saw him—God, was he hot.
He was tall, which was expected. His skin was a caramel tan, and even through a perfectly tailored suit, his muscular broad shoulders stood out.
His jawline was sharp and paired with black stubble. His lips were small yet, full, and his eyes were somewhat seductive in their own greenish-brown way. His hair was black and wavy.
Above all else—Aleksandra could do worse than marrying this guy.
But I knew it wasn't that simple—she loved Lorenzo. He wasn't the Ismael type or even the Nikolai type. He didn't wear designer suits, get driven around in cars, and go to shipment meetings.
Enzo was a assassin—a trained killer. He wore black turtle necks that hugged his muscles, his hair was always messy in a way he pulled off, his tattoos crawled up his neck and down his forearms, and the holsters of his guns lied underneath his arms.
Aleksandra was a rare sight—both a killer and a leader. Now she had two men that were like her in opposite ways, keen on being with her. Now that's what I call an impossible decision, I thought.
"When do you leave?" Nikolai asked.
"As soon as possible," Ismael started, "Aleksandra's safety is the utmost importance to me."
"I thought your father was supposed to come with you," Mikhail raised an eyebrow, "Where is Alejandro?"
"He's ensuring that the other families give no legitimacy to a forced marriage," Ismael said, "If Guillermo believes he is still on ice with the families, he'll postpone the marriage."
"I was under the impression he still needed leverage over Aleks, to get her to agree," Mikhail said.
"He has it," Ismael countered, "He has taken Adama De León," he turned to Adalia, "Your mother."
She paused for a moment, her eyes unmoving and her fists clenched, "When does the plane leave?"
"Whenever you and Lorenzo are ready," Ismael said definitively.
"I don't know about you, zietta," Lorenzo spoke for the first time, "But I'm ready to get Aleksandra."
"Let's go get my daughter."
- - End Of Chapter - -