"Please, be seated."

Nikolai took his seat first, then Blue eyes followed suit. It was only then Angelo and Elodie sat on the remaining free two seater, which also happened to be a few inches away from Medvedev's right side.

Elodie couldn't stop looking at the man, though. His bright, cold eyes. The indecipherable tattoos that spanned the length of the back of his palms.

If Medvedev truly committed those crimes Luca accused him of before Angelo murdered him, then it meant he was a free man. No agency in the world had been able to capture this man despite knowing just how dangerous he was and the heinous crimes he'd done.

Briefly, a feeling a fear and despair washed over Elodie; because if she was caught by these people, she had no doubt that she'd become fish-food, too.

"Arcangelo Casieri," Medvedev said, gaze locked with his enemy's. "You're one tough man to get ahold of."

"As you are, Vasily."

Medvedev's laugh was totally unnecessary, and it sent shivers down her spine. "I heard you've managed to conquer Manhattan just three weeks ago." He hummed, wide chest rising and falling. "Would you care to share how you did just that?"

Angelo leaned into his chair, feeling more at home than he should be in front of this man. Elodie couldn't relax, and wondered just how Angelo was able to do that.

"Like any good sorcerer, I keep my secrets to myself."

Medvedev lifted his tumbler to his lips and downed the remaining liquid in it, then placed the empty glass on the stool beside him. "Why do you want the Tsar Bomba?"

Elodie barely managed to hold back her gasp at how blatantly they were discussing this in front of them (the women). She'd not also been expecting him to ourightly ask Angelo that he knew the reason why he was here.

Angelo, on his part, didn't tense up, nor did his lounging pose change. "Why do you have it?"

Blue eyes gaze ping-ponged between them as though he was watching a tennis match, while his left palm lazy stroked the thigh of the dark blonde haired woman beside him.

"I think we both know why we all want to get our hands on the Tsar Bomba," Nikolai interjected, lazily twirling an unlit Cuban cigar between his index finger and thumb. "To hold it means to hold the power of the world."

"But, sadly, it's too much power for one man to control, isn't it?" Medvedev's words were more statement than a question.

"Why do you have it with you, then?" That was Angelo.

"So many questions," Medvedev hummed, raising a brow. "But very few answers."

For a few seconds, no one said anything, then Blue-eyes  broke the silence: "Vasily, I do hope you realize that doing business with the Castra Nostra is pointless. Plus, Angelo has many men after him."

"We all have our enemies," Nikolai cut in sharply. "As you do, Igor. We should be looking for a way forward and not back."

"But—"

One finger raise from Medvedev cut off whatever he was about to say, and Blue—Igor—resigned himself to petting his companion.

"Before we discuss business any further, Casieri, may I inquire the reason as to why you killed one of my men?"

Luca, E2 supplied helpfully, he's talking about that sad maggot.

"He infringed on my turf." Angelo's eyes were narrowed now. "And I did hear some interesting things about how you run your operations both in Russia and wherever your  Organizatsya owns."

"Enlighten me."

Angelo gave a nod. "You traffic women and children. I tolerate all things but that one. And what is more disgusting? You, making it a sport to see who brings you the highest number for a chance to spend a week on your island."

Medvedev's gaze lingered on Angelo for a minute, then he shifted it to Igor, who'd now abandoned his pet, back straightened. Even Nikolai had abandoned his cigar and was watching their leader with a raised brow.

"Igor?" That low smoky voice that belonged to the devil himself held a note of warning under its smooth texture.

"Vasily," Igor began, clearing his throat. "I don't know anything about this."

Like a shark scenting blood, Medvedev's nostrils flared as he leaned forward in his seat, body coiled tightly. "Then, why am I just hearing of this?"

"I-I d-don't know."

Elodie's every nerve stood on end to, and she was almost prepared for Vasily to spring out of his chair and launch himself at Igor. Instead, he leaned back into his chair and smirked.

A shiver ran up her spine, and it had nothing to do with the chilled room.

"Malysh."

It took Elodie all of three seconds to realize that Vasily was talking to her.

She cleared her throat, rounding her shoulders. "Yes?"

"Get us a bottle of drink from the wet bar." It wasn't a request.

"Right away."

As fast as she could manage with the weight of her dress, Elodie sprang to her feet and after a nod from Angelo, went in search of the wet bar. But, she had to make her way through the opening between Vasily's and Angelo's seat.

This resulted in her hand brushing Vasily's. Elodie gasped at the heat that arced up the length of her arm as she hurried away from the room.

It took her three tries, but she was able to locate the bar after opening the third door in the short hallway.

The place was not just a wet bar, though; it was also an office. A large polished desk sat below an enormous glass window and three leather chairs bracketed it. Papers were scattered all over its surface,as well as a half-filled bottle of Jack Daniels, along with three used tumblers. Bookshelves with several paperbacks lined the walls. The electric fireplace was lit, and it gave the room a warm ambience.

Glancing over her shoulder to ensure she wasn't being followed, Elodie shut the door behind her and stepped into the room.

She gently approached the table as though it was a live snake that could strike at anytime.

Once she was within viewing distance, Elodie leaned forward and swept her gaze across the papers.

Some of them were written in Russian, so she couldn't understand what it said. The one that caught her eyes was the single sheet of cream-colored paper that had a red seal at the bottom of it, and a bold signature done in cursive.

Using the tips of her fingers, Elodie pinched the edge of the paper, and held it up so she could read it better. And when she realized what it was, her eyes widened.

It was a contract legitimizing the sale of the Tsar Bomba to the BIA.

Which meant, Angelo's meeting with Vasily was over before it truly began.

Did that mean Medvedev was working with the BIA too?

Was this a trap to catch Angelo in something?

Before she could change her mind, Elodie dropped the paper on the table, whipped out her phone and took pictures of it from different angles. Then, she quickly sent it to her own private phone, then deleted it immediately from her work phone.

After doing her best to make the paper look like when she found it, Elodie went to the bar, heart pounding.

She didn't understand what games Brooks, Medvedev or Angelo were playing, but she didn't intend to be caught in the crossfires. So, instead of giving this information to Brooks, Elodie decided she'd keep it for herself until she knew what the fuck was going on.

She was just reaching for the bottle of Cognac when the door swung open.

Angelo's presence filled the door way and he walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Elodie straightened as he approached, and hid her trembling hands behind her.

She was an idiot.

She'd never stopped to think that Vasily could have a camera installed in here and had trapped her into believing she was alone. Which was why he'd sent her to get them a drink in the first place.

Angelo stopped a few feet from her, hands buried in the pocket of his slacks. "You were gone for a while."

"I didn't know the bar was here and had to search for it." Elodie's words came out steady, despite the fact that her insides were like the aftermath of a battlefield. "Is our host angry?"

"Vasily is always angry," he replied, gaze sweeping the length of her body. "But, I do know a way to make him pliant in my hands."

Elodie's throat worked as she swallowed. She just knew that this was about the warning Angelo gave her this morning. Whatever it was, it made her stomach churn. And it made her glad, too, that she hadn't eaten anything, because Elodie wasn't sure that she could keep it down.

"He's requesting that you and I put on a show for him."

She sucked in a breath, chest tightening. "W-what?"

"Vasily is a kinky bastard," Angelo said nonchalantly, as though he'd not just said he wanted to fuck her in front of a total stranger. "Doing this would help me gain his trust."

"Angelo, what makes you so sure that he would...do as you asked?" Mentioning the bomb didn't seem like a smart move. It was best to let him think she wasn't aware of the transactions between the both of them.

"Even if he doesn't, I have other reasons for wanting to get close to him." He closed the remaining gap between them, so that Elodie had to tilt her head back to see him. "Remember what I told you?"

She nodded.

"It'll be uncomfortable for you, but you'd do it regardless, won't you?"

Elodie wanted to run for the hills screaming for help. She was no naive to have thought her time with Angelo would only be about sex with him.

The man was someone who had no bone of shame in his body, so doing this probably came as natural as he breath he took to him.

She couldn't back out, so she said, "Okay."

Without another word, Angelo seized her hand, and led her out of the room, but instead of taking Elodie back to the living room, he led her to one of the rooms she'd seen earlier.

Fashioned of dark marbles, the spacious room spanned about forty feet wide, with a large electric fireplace and a wall of French doors that led to the equally spacious bathroom. Modern designer chairs were grouped around an opaque glass table-top that sat on the stub of an ancient looking tree. Atop the table sat a bouquet of fresh red roses in a dark vase with runes running up its otherwise smooth body. The only splash of color was the pillows on the four poster bed with brass designed headboard. The circular rings jutting from the wood taking up the other half of the headboard looked wicked.

Elodie's quick sweep of the room showed that they were alone. That helped her breath a little bit easier.

Angelo released his hold on her, fingers reaching for the button of his jacket. He made a quick work of shrugging out of it, and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs.

Then, he conjured a thin-blade knife out of thin air. Elodie recoiled in terror, a fission of fear taking over her. Angelo closed the distance between them.

Elodie's hand flew up to her face, body cowering. But nothing happened. Instead, Angelo took her purse and tossed it on a chair, and made a quick work of slicing off her her clothes, starting from the scandalous slit of her dress.

The cool brush of metal against her skin made her stand still, afraid he might really cut her if she moved. In tatters, the once fine material laid at her feet in ruins.

For a minute, he didn't made any move to do anything as if to drive home his point that he owned her and nothing she did could change that.

Elodie's mind flashed to Brooks. How much he'd tried to warn her not to take-on this task. Boss's warning not to antagonize the client. Jean's smiling face. And Mace's sweet face. She was trapped with so many expectations weighing down on her. There was noo way she could have a mind of her own and do what she wanted without creating a rippling effect.

Despite how brave she felt, Elodie felt a tear run down her cheek—her inadvertent show of fear.

Angelo trapped the lone liquid with a finger before it could reach her jaw. "Don't cry, Elodie. Instead, I want you to listen."

She nodded, after taking several breaths to pull herself together.

"Okay," he said, his voice a soft whisper that danced over her cheekbones. "Vasily isn't a man to be toyed with. So, no matter what you hear us say, don't react, okay? If he touches you, don't act repulsed. I can't protect you if you don't behave." He trailed the tip of the knife up and up, until the hilt was resting against her lower lip as his lips curved into a derisive smile."Obey me and remain quiet, and I promise you that no harm would come to you."

Elodie nodded vaguely, too terrified to answer.

Then, Angelo produced a dark silk scarf the length of his whole arm from the pocket of his slacks, and held it in front of her so she could see.

Elodie gulped.

"I think it'll be safer for you to wear this, don't you think?" He didn't wait for her to reply before folding the scarf over her eyes, and securing it in a knot behind her head.

Despite the material being silk, Elodie couldn't even see the reflection of the light in the room. Everything was so dark, and all she had to go on were sounds. But there was none forth coming at the moment.

She stood there, skin pimpling from the brush of little airs across her naked flesh, and her nipple puckered, reacting to the room temperature.

Then, something brushed by her left arm, eliciting a groan from Elodie, just as the familiar scent of Angelo surrounded her, as he pressed his front into her back; the material of his suit slacks brushing up against her sensitive flesh.

"I'm sorry," she heard him whisper into her ear, then he spun her around to his direction.

*

A/N:

Hi, everyone, and happy Sunday to you all.

An update, because, well, it's important. And I can only do it now, since I have a bit of free time.

This chapter is a bit confusing, isn't?

Don't worry, it'll become clearer, soon.

Why do you think Vasily sent Elodie to get the drink, knowing fully well that he didn't need it?

What do you think about the document she found?

Is Vasily truly going to betray Angelo?

What's the BIA involvement with Vasily?

Is Angelo also right to make Elodie sleep with him when there's an audience?

And Igor, do you think he's hiding something?

What do you think would happen next chapter?

Don't forget to vote, comment and share.