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|Ilya Zharkov|

After dinner last night, we went back to my bedroom since hers is across from Anna's, close to Slava's and my mom has the hearing of a vampire. I'm not risking it—

"Your mom knows," she told as the plane took off.

A lump formed in the back of my throat "Wha-what?"

"She told me yesterday morning that she knows we are trying to have a relationship," Sybella's cheeks turned slightly pink as a smile played on her lips.

"And are you relieved?" A weak smile curved my lips.

My woman nodded "Of all the people I didn't want to hide it from, she was number one so I'm happy she knows. She supports it, Ilya..." The shade of her cheeks went from pink to red "She says she wants us to get married some day."

It's hard to hide my excitement "Is that so?" I crossed my leg and rubbed my chin. "Well, don't let that scare you, malyshka, we are taking it as slow or fast as you want."

Sybella slowly nodded as her eyes fell to her hands "But wouldn't it be nice?" Her orbs glanced at me between her lashes "If this attempt of a relationship were to end in marriage...it would be nice but I don't know," she looked out the window and seemed quite nervous. "It was just a thought."

"It's a beautiful thought, Sybella," I unbuckled my seatbelt before getting up on my feet to sit on her armrest. "Malyshka, look at me."

The woman looked at me "Yes, baby?"

My hands cupped her cheeks "We are taking this slow, don't let my mother's comments ruin what we are building. Only us two. This can stay as just sex or we can go the serious way..."

"And what would you like, tesoro?" She leaned her head on my right hand while looking up at me.

A wave of heat rushed up my body; now that's a pet name that can make this big Russian stud, blush "Well, I'm a grown man, Sybella; I know what I want in my life and that is a chance to have a life with you, however, I'm also patient—"

"No you're not," she softly chuckled.

"No, I'm not," I cleared my throat. "Only when it comes to you," I leaned down to peck her lips.

"Everything you're saying is so dreamy and beautiful, Ilya," our eyes locked as our faces were an inch apart. "There are a lot of things I want you to know but I'm not ready," her eyes filled with tears as her voice broke.

A deep frown appeared upon my face "Malyshka, you don't have to tell me anything until you're ready. As I said before, I'm patient," my knuckles caressed her cheek.

Sybella threw her arms around me, pulling me on top of her which I thoroughly enjoyed "You must know that I don't regret stealing from you," she commented, making me chuckle "but I do regret not looking something with you sooner. Would you had taken me?" Her words warmed my heart.

"Yes, malyshka...after that night we spent at the hotel my mind was invaded by your image day and night," my face dipped into the crook of her neck to take in her mild but always-recognizable scent.

|Sybella Fiori|

Disgrace is no stranger to me. Sorrow has held my hand from the moment I was born. Sadness shadows me. Pain polluted the air in my lungs.

At one point in my life, I thought that things would go fantastic for me...but as stated before, there's a fog of darkness all around me that had trapped me for far too long.

Ilya and I have been in the plane's bed for two hours now and he has been asleep for almost an hour which has given me the opportunity—if that's how you want to call it— to reminisce in old memories:

My father never came back that day when I was ten and Giuliano took me in since I had just been evicted. He took care of me and even enrolled me into school near the apartment complex. For two years we were happy, we were like big brother and little sister and nobody bothered us...until...there's always that with me. Happiness ends in the blink of an eye.

"Giuliano, voglio aiutarti con le spese, lasciami venire a lavorare per te e il tuo amico," I commented as we sat at the dinner table, eating homemade chicken sushi.

(Giuliano, I want to help with the expenses, let me come work for you and your friend.)

Giuliano's right eyebrow arched "Quel posto è solo per gli adulti, cara, non per i bambini," he told.

(That place is for adults, darling, not for children.)

"Non sono più una bambina," I protested.

The man chuckled "Then why are you acting like one, cara mia?"

My eyes rolled back as I crossed my arms "How will I ever grow up if you don't let me work anywhere? Not even with you."

"Sybella, understand that you're like a sister to me and to have you there is to put you in danger," he told. "Just drop it, cara mia."

A huff left my mouth as I leaned back on my chair "Bene, non volevo farlo comunque."

(Fine, I didn't want to do it anyway.)

"Awesome," Giuliano winked at me, making me giggle. He's funny. All the girls in the building melt for him but he's just a dork boy with germs.

The next day, after school, I went back to the apartment where I changed into all-black since it what Giuliano wears whenever he goes to work. After it, I looked under his mattress for the spare handgun and threw it in my yellow backpack before leaving the apartment on my way to downtown Roma where he must be.

The walk to the main streets of my birth city was calm which is weird since to get out of my neighborhood, there are a lot of people always asking questions about where you're going and touching the guns in their pants to intimidate.

It was 8:40 pm when I was outside the bar where Giuliano works, the security guards at the door let me in without a question since Giuliano has brought me a couple of times when he feels safer bringing me than leaving me. Most of those times I just fall asleep behind the bar but now I want to be like Giuliano and work. You might think that I'm too young to be doing this kind of work but most people in this line of work, start at a young age which will help me build a reputation.

These were not the thoughts of a normal twelve-year old but clearly, my life has never been what you call normal.

Giuliano was sitting at one of the booths with his partners so I approached him with a big smile on my face; he's going to be so proud because I was brave enough to defy his wishes. He says that bravery is the most important virtue but that sometimes it can make a man do stupid things.

"Sybella, che ci fai qui?" He asked with horror written all over his expression.

(Sybella, what are you doing here?)

A big smile appeared on my lips as I gazed up at him "Sono venuto qui per aiutarti. Forse posso fare il messaggera come te quando avevi tredici anni!"

(I came here to help you. Maybe I can be a messenger like you were when you were thirteen.)

"Cara, tu sei dodici e non dovresti essere qui. Per favore torna a casa," Giuliano gripped my shoulders softly. "Le ragazze non hanno lo stesso trattamento dei ragazzi. Non saresti un messaggero, saresti una prostituta..." a deep frown appeared upon his face and on mine too.

(Dear, you're twelve and you can't be here. Please go back home. The boys are not treated the same as girls; you wouldn't be a messenger, you would be a prostitute...)

"Cosa può fare un ragazzo che non posso?" Anger ran through my veins.

(What can a boy do that I can't?)

"Cara mia—" the sound of shots being fired paralyzed me but Giuliano wrapped his arms around me and held me close as he lay us down on the floor to protect me. "Quando mi alzo e sparo, dirigo nell'ufficio e ti rinchiudo lì dentro. Non aprire la porta a meno che tu non sappia che sono io," he whispered.

(My dear—. When I get up and start shooting, you go into the office and lock yourself in there. Don't open the door until you know it's me.)

I nodded and after five seconds he got up and commenced firing. I got up on my feet and rushed into office with my head hanging low to protect myself. Once inside, my hands secured the three locks. Shallow, quick breaths left my mouth as my eyes looked at the door frantically.

A shot just outside caused me to let out a scream, then silence came. I rushed to hide under the desk and covered my mouth to keep my sobs inside.

The sense of anguish and grief conquered my body. I don't want to lose Giuliano...he's all I have in the world and we've been each other's family for a year now.

After a short time of waiting for someone to speak from the other side of the door, I crawled out and looked at the clock on the desk: 8:55 pm. I've been under the desk for ten minutes and it's been dead silent for most of it which scares me.

As I stood in front of the door, a million things ran through my mind; someone could be waiting on the other side with a gun pointing in my direction but the risk has to be taken. My best friend could be on the floor with an injury that needs urgent care.

"Giuliano?" I softly called out, carefully stepping out of the office but not a sound. My eyes fell on a body on the floor...the man had three bullet holes on his back and I instantly knew who it was by the tiger tattoo on his right hand. "Giuliano..." tears formed in my eyes as I knelt to his right to see his face.

To see my best friend's lifeless eyes wide open with a blood trail down the side of his lips scarred me.

I lowered my head to listen to his breathing but nothing "GIULIANO! Non lasciarmi!" I shook him violently as desperation took over me. "Sei tutto ciò che ho, fratello!" Hot droplets ran down my cheeks as the grief kicked in.

(Don't leave me! You're all I have, brother!)

That night, I left the bar with a heavy heart and more alone than ever. The last person in my world was gone. It was hard going back home without him holding my hand even if that's never the case, all I wanted at that moment was to be held by Giuliano or hear his laugh which always made me laugh since he snorted most of the time. He was a brother to me and I lost him in the blink of an eye.

The years to come weren't pretty at all; I became what Giuliano said girls become in that world. It was more of a necessity than a willingly-taken decision. To learn how to open my legs meant that I was going to be able to put food in my mouth and have a roof over my head. There were many girls in that house that were fourteen and up but I was the youngest. They all tried to take clients from me so I wouldn't have to suffer; they didn't take the pay, they gave it to me which was sweet but it stopped once I turned fourteen.

At the age of sixteen I met Antonio and we became friends quickly. We met through the brothel, it was his first time there so I took him. Once we were in my bedroom, he commenced asking me rather strange questions. That was the night I finally met Giuliano's younger brother whom he always talked with every night, promising him a grand home for the both of them.

Antonio got me out of that place and took me to live to his parents' house which was in a middle-class neighborhood of Roma. The younger Russo brother trained me from that moment on; my bony arms turned out to be stronger than I thought and my mind sharper than the madame of the brothel claimed it was.

At the age of seventeen I quit being a sex-worker which was sort of a choice; I stuck a knife between the madame's eyes for calling me weak and useless when my body was the one bringing her more cash and clients than any other in the house. Nobody said anything, my fellow sisters and I buried the body in the backyard and one of them—Gia who was the first one to volunteer to take my clients when I was new—took over.

After that I became a waiter at a restaurant which was concurred by tourists since it was between the Fontana Di Trevi and Pantheon. By day I would serve to families from all around the world, listened to their conversations to learn how to mimic accents and by night I trained until my body couldn't stay upright no more.

Antonio and I decided that we didn't want to be anybody's pawns anymore so we engineered a plan to steal $35 million from Ilya Zharkov. We needed his fingerprint to do the transfer so we got on a train to Paris once we learned he would be there for business and I bought myself a new little black dress that was obviously going to catch his attention. For weeks I studied the women he had gone out with for the last five years; they all wore their hair down and didn't wear much makeup...I followed everything to the letter. The plan was flawless but what I didn't expect was to have such a bewildering night.

To say that I didn't feel something special when I was with Ilya that night would be a lie. Up until I met Jay, every night I would think about him and even more so when Anna and I became friends. That friendship was organic, I never planned anything, it just happened.

"Malyshka..." he whispered in his sleep as he tightened the grip of his arms around me.

"It's okay, baby, I'm here," my right hand gently caressed his chest in circular motions.

Ilya groaned, slithering down to place his face in the crook of my neck "That's much better," his husky voice made me blush and so did his fingers tickling the side of my hip.

"Everything is much better when we are together," I whispered, tickling the back of his neck.

"Do you really think so?" Ilya's head tilted up to meet my eyes.

My head confirmed his inquire "I do and while you were asleep I was thinking about something."

"What something, malyshka?" our eyes locked.

A deep breath left my mouth; this is a big decision for me "Penthouse B of my building happens to be available so I was thinking maybe it could be our little lust nest," I commented, making us both chuckle. "I'm serious, Ilya, I want you as close to me as possible. Your team knows so mine should know too...what do you think?" my cheeks turned hot.

"I think it's time to leave that house on the outskirts to Santino and his adventures," Ilya pecked my lips. "As soon as we land I'll call Ben to start the process. So...this means we can fuck every night."

"Every fucking night, even when Nicolas is staying over at my place," I shimmed down so our faces would meet at the same height.

"That's naughty," his right hand gripped my waist to pull me as close as possible.

My left foot caressed the side of one of his legs as I teased him by grazing my lips with his' "You have no idea, daddy."

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