SIN'S POV!!! (Sorry I know I haven't done these lately)
I stood there dumbfounded, and wordless.
She left, she really left.
It was my fault. I told her that I didn't care about her, when I really did.
I guess that was my own way of dealing and coping with reality was just to push things away, and
pretend like nothing ever happened.
But here was this gorgeous, strong, girl who had flipped my world upside down.
She made me rethink everything that I did, and that wasn't okay. The Soviet Mafia would crash and
burn without me, and she was making me question everything that I did for my Country. It just wasn't
safe.
So I did the only thing that I knew how to do...and that was to push her away.
I had never really taken an interest into a specific girl, sure I would see some hot chick and fuck her, or
I would go through a line of strippers and whores.
But Grey was probably the first girl that I had talked to, liked, and not fucked.
And sure that isn't a Bonnie and Clyde, or a Romeo and Juliet Romance, but it was more than I've ever
had.
But now she was fucking gone.
I pulled out my phone, and dialed Nikolai's number.
"I need you to do something for me..."
GREY'S POV
I pulled the cheap dollar store hood over my head, thankful for the black cloth to protect me.
I wasn't really going to the Italians, they'd kill me.
I had a safe house, some family friends living in Paris, although I spent most of my life living in the
academy, I still had outside connections.
I had a bank account set up along banks around the world, with plenty of money to help me get by.
I tightened the straps, as the freezing wind slapped me across the face. I shuttered and tried wrapping
the baggy sweatshirt tighter around me.
It was Miami, I didn't understand why it was so cold, I guess because it was winter, and the middle of
the night, but I was still confused. I had thought Miami was always hot.
Goes to show you how much I know about the real world.
I was surprised that there was a shop open this late at night, but I was thankful for this cheap
sweatshirt.
I continued walking down the low lit street, Miami seemed to be pretty awake. Not as much so as New
York City, but there were still people up and lights on.
I noticed a car that had been behind me ever since I left the Hotel and I internally punched myself for
not noticing it sooner.
I tug my thin hand deeper into the pockets of my jacket until they clamped down on the handle of my
handgun. I reassured myself one more time, by switching the safety off.
If these guys were the Italians-and they were trailing me. Then I probably needed to kill them.
I couldn't do it out in the open, so I did a little half run-half walk across the street, and into an ally
behind some cheap closed sushi restaurant- and sure enough...the car turned too.
I stepped back deeper until I was in the shadows, and the lights of the car washed over the wall next to
me.
With a soft rumble the car shut off, and four men got out.
They were all dressed in black-I'm not surprised.
And they were speaking Italian.
"Grey?" A voice called out- a familiar voice.
Viktor.
I gritted my teeth and stupidly stepped out from the shadows.
He pulled the hood off of his head to reveal his per-usual gorgeous face. I grimaced at him.
The men on either of his sides remained hooded.
His eyes flickered over me...all over me.
"You came with no protection? None of those Russian fucks?" I noticed that his probably fake Russian
accent was now completely gone, and replaced by a very real Italian tongue.
I gritted my teeth, "I don't need them."
His pale pink lips turned upwards in a mocking smirk, "You don't?"
I took another step back, "No I don't. Why are you doing this? Basically starting a war for one girl?" I
asked curiously.
He shook his head, "The war was bound to happen, sweetie. The Italians and the Russians have
always been in war, maybe not always in the flesh, but war has always been there. You are just a..." He
licked his lips "Bonus."
"Why?" I asked, with another step.
His head cocked to the side, "No, little one its my turn for a question..." He cleared his throat. "Who are
you?"
"I'm a girl." I stated.
He rolled his eyes, "congratulations, I'm talking about you really are. No one has the skills and abilities
that you posses just by birth. You must have trained, studied?" I said nothing.
He took another step towards me just as I took another step away.
His eyes sparkled, "Tell me something." It was almost a...plead.
I breathed out Cooley as I looked at him right in the eyes, "My name is Grey Aleksei Dante
Ravenwood, and I'm not telling you shit."
He sighed, almost in a verbal defeat.
He looked to one of his guards, "Take your men, get her in the car." He got into the car with another
man-the driver I presume. Leaving me with two huge, hooded, Italian goons.
"Andiamo." One of them growled at me, his accent strong and Italian. (Let's go.)
"Mordimi." I spat as I felt the gun in my hands. (Bite me.)
"Tu parli italiano?" One of them asked, and I almost laughed at how this 'kidnapping' turning into a full
blown Italian conversation. (You speak Italian?)
"sì madre stronzo . Non è lì doveva essere un rapimento in corso o qualcosa del genere?" I replied,
and I was almost impressed with my pronunciations, being bilingual had done me very well. (Yes
mother fucker. Isn't there supposed to be a kidnapping going on or something?)
They looked at each other, "Oh merda. Sì va bene." (Oh shit. yeah that's right.)
All at once they lunged for me, chloroform drawn, along with handy dandy guns.
I puled mine out, with one sharp move I slugged the bigger one across the face with the handle of my
gun, and chop blocked the smaller-yet-still-bigger-than-me guy.
I felt myself being pulled into a grip, and using my only option, I bit down on the bare hand. I smashed
the top of my head into one of their noses, and cocked my gun.
The bigger one came at me with a blade, and using my only other option I shot him in the heart. I then
averted my attention to the smaller-yet-still-bigger-than-me guy who was watching as the car peeled
away.
I guess they figured they couldn't be nonviolent with me tonight. So they fled.
The smaller-yet-still-bigger-than-me guy looked over at me, his eyes wide with fear, "Per Favore. Non
devo una famiglia . Per Favore." He begged, (Please. Don't I have a family. Please.)
I bit my cheek, "Bene, hai la mia parola , ma venire qui per un secondo." (Fine, You have my word but
come here for a second.)
He hesitantly took a step towards me, and with one quick move I smashed the base of the gun into the
lower part of his temple, missing his brain, keeping him alive, but unconscious.
I sighed as I looked around me, breathing out I rubbed my eyes.
Okay, now. I go to Paris, to a safe house.
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