Runaway With The Mafia

er before she can catch her breath. "Know that the only reason I'm not calling the police to drag you back is because of Jayson. Y

nd can handle this. "Hire me as your helper. I have no money, no family to return to. No credentials. No identity that I can remember. Leave me here, and Jayson will

ng to transfer ownership from one man to ano

defiantly. "I know your

standing closer until she can see the flecks in his eyes, the way the sunlight plays through his hair, cast

when she was simply Anastasia-before everything changed. Panic rises, and she feels

htmares

other will. She'll drag her back and slowly drain her spiri

t can't be worse than what I've already

vil you know than risk an unknown angel.

but all Sandro does is close his eyes and rub h

Sandro makes frantic phone calls, his voice laced with a

nded by a dozen suited bodyguards who appeared the moment they reach

pmother's wrath. The punishments are not physically scarring;

ead, her stepmother's cruelty leaves deep, indelible marks on

word, not even

her since muttering "Damn it." It is the first ti

omething for the flight. Too tense to sleep, she had asked the cabin hostess for assistance with the display, only to be blatant

that Sandro does not return the sm

le, teeming with suited bodyguards. Anastasia spins in awe, ab

y bordered by manicured gardens contribute to the opulence. Atop the st

ing most of his security detail. Anastasia struggles to keep pace, urged

p, as everyone around him scrambles to clear a path,

ul a man is, the more blood stains his hands. She is le

her. Now, he strides through his territory like an Italian prince, his keen

uits him perfectly, much like the indifferent expression on

ains a mystery. It feels as though she has not

burn from the exertion as she is forced to take three

ring of guests at the entrance-about twenty people-each

ip-flops that Sandro had hastily acquired for her at the last moment. She

nd Sandro standing at the center. He moves away from her, striding toward a woma

mately, she chooses to follow, feeling an invisible tether binding her to him. She may

e in her sixties, with a full head of black and gray hair. Her thin, red lips are

ep she takes, and Anastasia holds her breath as the woman

ehind. The two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity befo