I rested my head against the couch, my overflow of emotions running off of me and down to the floor. My head was swarming in the images of Anastasia wrapped up in my arms and her legs wrapped around my waist. Her eyes lustfully looking into mine, making me shiver with the passion radiating from her. I got up from my dark grey sofa decorated with creamy, white pillows and opened my fridge to down a beer. I needed to drown out my thoughts of her, so I could concentrate on my mafia duties, but my mind was so wrapped around the idea of her that I slammed my beer down and called up my right-hand-man Spencer. Their had to be a way to where I could contact her. Even if it was for a second it would make me screw my head on straight.
“Yello?” Spencer answered.
“I need you to look up a woman by the name of Anastasia.”
“Spence just do it.”
I was in no mood for his childishness, no matter how much it made me laugh half the damn time. This was a matter of business.
“Well I found someone named Anastasia Taylor, but I have no idea if that’s who your looking for...if you don’t mind my asking what the hell are doing looking up women? Is this your way of using tinder?”
“If I could reach you through this phone and choke the shit out of you I would, but I’m looking her up so I can contact her. Send me the photo of her so I know it’s her.”
My phone pinged with the photo that made my eyes widen. It was her. Her silky black hair, bright beautiful blue eyes, plump red lips and broad feline shoulders. It was Anastasia.
“Does it come with a number?”
“Forward it to me.”
Just as Spencer sent me the number, my door bell dinged and I furrowed my brows together.
Who the hell is at my house at 10:30 in the morning?
“Alright make sure you go over the weapon and product shipments.”
“There not out yet! What the fuck!”
“Call Mr. Fine yourself, he might not like a visit from the devil.”
“He better be glad I’m in a good mood or I’ll cut his fucking eyes out.”
“Alright call me when the job is done.”
Oh my god I’m about to lose my shit; whoever is here is going to wish they hadn’t shown up. I whipped my front door open and anger stirred inside my eyes once I realized who it was. Nadia Crane.
Nadia fucking Crane.
“What the hell are you doing here Nadia?” She had a stupid smirk spread across her face. “I came here to remind you of our arrangement. I was going to do it last night, before you started dancing with that twerp.” She growled at me. “That twerp...” I stared at her ridiculous brown eyes before speaking. “...is the most deadliest assassin in the world, so I would watch myself if I were you.” I threaten. “Why?” She questioned me and attempted to push her way through the front door.
I didn’t want her to stay here any longer than she arrived, but what kind of gentleman would I be to an egotistical, self-righteous snob?
“Because she could kill you at any second if she wanted too.” I smirked. Wouldn’t that be something to see. “Why, are you afraid?” She mocked me. “I would be a fool not to be.” I deadpanned her. She rolled her eyes into the back of her blonde head and huffed a breath. I swear she has more Botox in her face than a Botox specialist. “I came here to arrange our engagement Zayn.” Her eyes were wild and ready to bounce on me. This chick was fucking crazy. “We’re not planning anything because their will be no wedding.” I snapped in her face.
I had zero desire to marry this snob I was betrothed too just to keep the mafia families in peace. I refused to spend the rest of my life on a gold-digging, self-centered bitch who only wanted to marry me for money and social status. “Are you kidding me! We’re supposed to be getting married in a month and you aren’t going to plan anything?” She squeaked to the top of her lungs. Any earwax I had left just got scooped right out of me. “You listen here Zayn Thorne-“ I cut her off because I hated listening to her voice that sounded worse than a damn peacock.
“No you listen Nadia. I’m not going to marry an egotistical, self-centered, social status craving, wealthy and self-righteous bitch like you just to please both of our families. Whatever idea you seemed to have developed about the both of us being together ends now. We won’t be together now, a year from now or ever. Me and you will never be a thing.” I sternly clarified so her ego would burn in flames.
“Excuse me?” She roared. “Your excused, now get the fuck out.” I snapped at her and her brown eyes turned more red than damn lava. Jesus this woman is either desperate or just down right nuts. “Wait till your father hears about this!” She threatened and I marched up to her so fast she could barely blink.
“Don’t you ever, EVER bring up my father to my face ever again. Or I promise you Nadia the only thing you see tomorrow is a six foot grave.”
Her face held nothing, but fear of me and it made me smile. She should be afraid, after all that’s why I’m called ‘The Devil’. I kill without conscious and torture for reasons only people imagine. She should be running for her life right about, let me guess, oh that’s right now.
“Get the fuck out of my house before I drag you out. That wedding is never going to happen and me and you were over before it even started.”
I growled. I had never seen her run for the hills so fast until now. She should know that we were never going to be a thing and now I have to go and fix shit that my business partner should’ve fixed. Nadia would have to be on my stress level another day. I yanked my phone up from the counter and dialed the one person who was supposed to handle our shipments months ago.
“Good morning Mr. Thorne.”
“Mr. Fine why hasn’t my shipment been sent out yet? I asked you to handle it!”
“Their was a problem sire. I’ll fix it straight away.”
“You better or the fucking devil with rise within me and I don’t think any of you want that do you?”
I hung up the phone and threw it in the marble countertop. My anger level was at its peak and I knew the only thing to calm me down was going to try and get ahold of Anastasia. I barely even knew the most deadliest assassin on the planet, but I knew she didn’t want to tango with the devil. Hell even sometimes I don’t want to deal with me, but I do. I inputted her number into my phone and prayed that she would answer. I had to make my contact message recognizable.
My head was so far up my ass I couldn’t even think straight, so now was my chance to twist it in the right direction.