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* * *
Later that evening, once my parents and brother were sleeping soundly, I snuck out of my room with my heels in my hand. I rounded the corner as I saw two men playing cards, sipping on what seemed to be their fifth bottle of beer if I counted right. I snuck past them with ease, and they didn’t bat an eyelid as I darted towards the side door, one I knew wasn’t heavily guarded since my father was sure I didn’t know about it.
As I made it to the back wall undetected, there was a rustle within the bushes on the opposite side of the garden. A familiar voice startled me, causing my heels to clatter onto the concrete.
“Ana, where do you think you’re going?” It was the soft voice of my brother, and even though he knew I was sneaking out, there was little to no annoyance in his voice.
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought a walk around the garden would help.” I lied, and I knew he could tell; I was sure it was written all over my face.
“Dressed like that?” He stepped closer.
“Miles, I—” He cut me off.
“Go.” He cut me off. His one-word reply had me gobsmacked.
“What?” That was all I could get out.
“Ana, listen, we all deserve a little fun. Go and have a good time and stay out of trouble.” His smile was as clear as day now as he stood before me.
“What about Papa?” I glanced towards my parents’ bedroom window that was in complete and utter darkness.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s out for the count.” Miles handed me my heels and hurried me out the gate, locking it behind me as though nobody had ever left.
“Thank you. I promise to stay out of trouble, don’t worry.” I winked and turned my back to walk away when his voice stopped me.
“I’ll always worry about you. You’re my baby sister.” He let out a sigh before he continued. “Be back before the sun comes up at least. I don’t think I’ll be able to cover for you after that. You know, he’s an early riser.” He walked back towards the house without saying another word, without even looking back. I smiled as I ran barefoot down the path to the waiting car Tay had arranged, never once looking back towards the house even though something niggling in the pit of my stomach told me I should have.
My fists collidedwith the heavy leather punch bag once again. The pain radiating through my hands wasn’t enough for me to stop. I had been at this for hours and the bruises forming on my knuckles proved it. Sweat trickled down my brow as my hair flopped down over my sweaty forehead. Anastacia's toned, naked body was now burnt into my fucking retinas. I'd never encountered somebody as infuriating as her, someone whose attitude caused my blood to boil and turn me on at the same time.
"Boss, Franco has arrived." I turned to see Red leaning against the doorframe, already dressed in black from head to toe for tonight's meeting. “You’ve been in here a while. Everything all right?” he questioned, genuinely concerned.
"Everything is fine; I was just releasing some pent-up frustration." I hissed as my fist struckthe bag again. Onlythis time, I splitit openalong with my knuckles. The blood trickled down my hand before it decorated the floor.
“Let me guess… Ana—”
“Don't even think about finishing that fucking sentence!” I snapped as he stared at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“I take it last night wasn’t successful, then?” Red quizzed, pressing his index finger to his chin.
“I don’t want to fucking talk about it! I'd rather be sentenced to life in prison than marry her!" I was seething at herflawless act last night, which painted me as the villain in every way imaginable.
“Okay, consider it blacklisted.” As I finally stepped away from the bag, he nodded his head at me.
“Good! Tell my father I’ll be upstairs shortly.” I wiped the sweat from my chiselled torso as Red left me alone.
I needed to calm downand get that fucking woman out of my head before thisevening. I couldn't afford to blow this business deal.We needed this supplier, and I intended to make sure we get it.
Tonight, no tainted thoughts would flood my mind.
Especially not of her.
* * *
After a quick shower, I went downstairs to meet my father. He sat behind my steel desk, his right ankle resting onhis left thigh.
“There’s my boy!” He beamed as he relaxed back in my chair.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Pa?” My father had a habit of showing up unexpectedly, and as he often reminded me, he could check in whenever he wanted since he's technically still the Don until I get married.
