Page 3 of Owned By the Mafia
He hangs up, and I stand up fast, slamming my chair backward into the wall. Aidan looks up at me.
“Where are you going?”
“To shoot things,” I snap.
There’s an open field, one I always visit, one I visit whenever I have the urge to think about her or when I’m too angry to control my temper. I do target practice there and envision the person I want to kill or the man I imagine touching her instead of me.
Chapter 2 - Dinara
My high heels click against the tiled floor as I make my way through the quiet, empty building. It’s too early for anyone to be in. I love this time of the morning. I get so much more done in the silence before dawn than I ever do during the hustle and bustle of the day.
It’s not like anyone shares an office with me or that I deal with many people in my position, but there are people. Noisy people. People walking up and down the halls, greeting and chatting, and talking about the minuscule small things that do not matter in the greater scheme of things.
I realize I’ve become a recluse since the stalking, and maybe I’ve come to enjoy it a little too much. But sometimes, I think I’m ready for a change and a challenge, and I have mentioned it to Katya before. Maybe it’s time for something different.
I unlock my office and stroll in, setting my keys on the small table near the door. I put my handbag in the deep drawer of my desk and shut it. My phone goes onto its little charging stand on my desk, and I move to the long table alongside the left wall. I pick up a stack of green-colored folders and take them to my desk.
A few hours into my work through the folders, my phone’s ever-plain old ringtone goes off, and I glance at the screen.
It’s the boss.
Katya.
I answer it and put it on speaker. “Good morning, Katya. Are you well?|
“Morning, Dina. Always well, thanks, and yourself?”
“I’m good, thanks. Just getting a start on today’s projects.” I smile as I look at the decreasing pile of green folders. I know I’ll make quick work of what’s left of them. My job is to get money to various places through the companies the family uses as fronts. Whatever I set out to do, I am the best at it. Katya knows this.
“If you’re not too busy, can I pull you away from work? I’d like to see you sooner rather than later.” Katya sounds calm, so I’m not worried, but I am curious.
“Am I allowed to ask what it’s in connection with?” I am already standing, switching the phone from speaker and putting it against my ear. I grab my handbag and finally my keys as I leave my office, locking it behind me.
“It’s a promotion, actually. I will give you all the details when we meet. It’s ten now; let’s go for brunch at the bistro.” She hangs up without a response from me.
It wasn’t a request. It was an instruction.
I get in my car and drive toward the bistro. There’s traffic now, unlike predawn, where everyone is still asleep—another good reason to start working early. You get to skip the bullshit that is New York traffic all day long.
By the time I get to the bistro, it’s closer to eleven. I walk in, and the hostess walks straight to me. “Katya is in the family’s private section.”
I follow her to the back and through a curtain. Katya is sitting at a small table.
“I’ve ordered you coffee and a hearty breakfast.” She smiles. “Lord knows with the work ahead of you, you will need it.”
“Is it a promotion or a punishment?” I joke as she stands, and we embrace.
We’re more than boss and employee; we’re lifelong friends, and I’ve always worked for her family from the day I was able to.
“So does this promotion include working from home so I no longer have to deal with people chatting outside in the hallway?” I ask as the waitress brings my coffee and sets it down.
Katya smiles and sits back, her hands crossed on her lap. “Actually, it involves you dealing with people.”
I grimace. “Really?”
“Not so long ago, you said you wanted a challenge, something different from what you always do, right?” She grins. She’s got me there.
“I was actually thinking about that this morning,” I comment. “But at the same time, I hate people.”