Claimed

CHRISTIAN VICIOUS‘ VOLKOV. 

Demetri Sokolov is as unhinged as Oppenheimer 

with the atomic bombs. 

But more than unhinged? Demetri is an impatient son of a gun that craves power the way. the child on my damn plane craves her mother’s 

milk. 

Going to Moscow isn’t a choice I’d rather partake. in. Russian soil has never been kind to the likes of Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

us Sicilians. 

A, because Sicilians are way ahead in the mafia game than the Russian mafia aka the Bratva and B, Demetri’s grandfather and my grandfather might have killed each other in a street battle before the truce was established. 

Demetri Sokolov took the reign of the Bratva from his pops months ago. 

I’m yet to claim the throne of the Costa Nostra and if there’s anything I know about that buzz–cut fucker is that he wants to tear down the truce and rule the whole world. 

The Chicago mafia. The London mafia. The Costa Nostra. Bratva, you name it. 

I tap on my tablet going over the guest list to 

Demetri’s private party. 

A party that’s more of a conclave with every mafia leader in the world under one roof. 

Yeah, I sense a trap. But either he’s too stupid to realize killing us would cause chaos or he just doesn’t give a fuck. And for Demetri? He’s big and dumb alright, add in reckless and I already know Russia is going to be one huge pain on my- 

“Really? Oh my God, I was born and raised in 

Chestnut Springs too. Well, not the born part. You get the idea.” 

Too mouthy for a woman. 

Too cheerful for a woman who has no business speaking in this entire trip, the blondie pulls up a smile directing it at Jagger and Jett. 

Color me surprised, that she hasn’t smiled at me since I put her and the baby on a plane to a suicide mission. 

She hasn’t smiled at me, ever. 

Frankly speaking, I don’t even know if her teeth. are white or black. 

“Does Mrs. H still work there?” 

“Noo, don’t tell me“, blondie’s eyes grow too big on her face, as yet again ladies and fucking gentlemen, she throws my men a smile wide enough to give the Grinch a run for his money. 

“You knew Mrs. H? She practically raised me too“, she adds unnecessarily. 

I haven’t seen Jagger and Jett smile like that in 

ages. 

And that’s saying a lot because they are practically seated at the edge of the cabin in my private plane and I can still see those smug faces from 

where I am. 

I pour myself another glass of gin. The gin trickles down my throat with a sour taste as Sunshine’s laughter rocks the confines of my plane. 

She can laugh too, apparently. 

Laugh with me? No. 

Laugh with my men who are ogling her like she’s the next tantalizing meal to be presented in a trashy American TV food show? Yes. 

Who gives a shit about laughter anyway? 

The next glass of gin doesn’t make it down my throat because Jagger’s voice ups my sour mood to a hundred. 

“You are tough stuff, Lexy. Cute but tough.” 

Lexy. That’s what her friends call her. 

I’m no fucking friend. 

“Alexia” 

Jagger and Jett lose the ridiculous smiles. 

Little nurse cradles Millie in her arms as her smile falls flat and her azure eyes scream, she’d rather sit with Jett than me. 

And I’d rather sit on a cactus than fuck her so 

here we are. 

“Come here.” 

She hesitates. I think for a moment she’ll go back on her promise but she doesn’t. 

The fine ass with a head, thick and full of blonde hair, stands up, hands Millie to Jett (against my better judgment) and struts to me with a cheap picnic dress that hugs her curves and pushes her breasts up to reveal a very ample cleavage. 

No wonder Jett and Jagger were smiling every 

two seconds. 

“What can I do for you, boss?” she asks with sass. barely giving the hint that she wants to at least si down and have a chat like we are two proper 

adults. 

Except she isn’t an adult. 

Twenty–three years can’t be compared to my thirty years and the fact that I’m comparing shows how hard that alcohol is hitting my brain. 

‘Sit next to me and remain quiet the whole trip‘, I 

want to say. 

‘Don’t smile. Don’t do anything. Just sit and breathe for fuck’s sake. 

I don’t say all that. 

Instead, I say the one thing that rocked my mind when Maximo told me Demetri wants me in Russia. 

“Seduce a man for me. 

I put my slave to good use. 

“You in position?” 

“Not yet. Demetri has his castle manned by 

guards at every corner I turn to. The cctvs are encrypted hard, hacking into them is like asking me to find an ant in a bag of sugar.” 

“How many guards? How many can you and I take out if I provide a distraction?” 

Maximo stills, I know the next question he’ll ask 

me before he can even ask it. 

“What distraction? Jesus Christ, Volkov don’t tell me what I think you are saying.” 

“Demetri has a kink for blondes.” 

She’s blonder than any woman I’ve come across. 

“She’s a civilian. She’s a mother. You are selling your own doctor, nurse whatever to a psycho.” “I’ll get her out alive. All we need is Demetri out 

of the way and his plan botched.” 

“Demetri will eat her alive“, Maximo sighs. 

“I’ll handle Demetri,” 

“You know you kill him and the Costa Nostra 

starts a war, right?” 

“We’ll be there in ten.” 

I hang up. 

I have handled worse punks than Demetri and if anything, Sunshine is more than capable of standing on her own. 

That woman has bigger balls than I have seen in two of my men combined. She’s tough as fuck. 

Speaking of women and toughness, the woman in question descends the stairs in a purple floor sweeping gown that shows at least half of her creamy right thigh. 

She covers her shoulders with some designer fur coat of the sort hiding those boobs that would make a man like Demetri fall to his knees and beg 

for a kiss. 

I extend my hand to hers. 

Sunshine completely ignores it as she stands next to me in heels that elevate her five feet three height to like five foot five. 

“How long do I have to distract this Darius guy?” 

“Demetri. The name’s Demetri. A few minutes. 

depending on what Demetri has in store for me.” 

A few guards to kill us. 

Bombs, snipers, the usual shebang. 

“Why me though?” 

Because you are the kind of pretty that would have Demetri wagging his tail as he follows you 

all night. 

“You are cheaper than a hooker. Your services might be required too.” 

“How so?” 

“In case Demetri follows through with his plan, I’ll need a nurse to stitch me back together.” 

With the glare she’s throwing at me, I know for a fact she would leave me dead in some ditch and run the other way with her baby without thinking 

twice. 

“Let’s pray to the Good God that Demetrius doesn’t follow through with his plan then. It’d be a shame if you died in Russia“, her red–smeared. lips mumble sarcastically. 

I don’t miss the Demetrius name either which is her version of trying to rile me up. 

“And the child?” I ask. 

“Jagger volunteered to babysit.” 

Of course, that little retard volunteered to babysit while Maximo and Jett are scouting for bombs. 

“You trust him with her?” 

“Do I trust the man who isn’t dressing me up like 

a doll to seduce some Russian man to take care of 

my daughter? Yes. Yes, I trust Jagger. Come on, boss let’s not keep Daniel waiting.” 

‘It’s Demetri‘ but by the time I correct her, her ass is already sashaying out of the front door. 

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