CHAPTER 18

Aleara’s POV.

I woke up wrapped in a cocoon of fluffy white sheets in a bright and elegant room, with no such idea on how I had gotten here or what the situation was.

I through off the covers and sat up, noticing Atlas Drakov’s thousand-dollar suit jacket wrapped around my shoulders.

Ew.

Realization dawned on me as I walked into the Devils room.

I stood awkwardly in the center of the room, biting down hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from ending this silence with something stupid that got me killed.

His gaze was unreadable, he was like a fucking brick wall, with no expression at all.

His icy eyes stared at me as if waiting for something to be said, I just hesitated.

This was a big ass guy, he was scary, and I was stuck alone with him.

“Well, are you going to finally make yourself useful?” his tone was cocky and shit like.

What the fuck did he mean ‘finally’? I had been asleep for the past who knows how long.

This guy was such a prick.

“I need you to be my…. Date, for my trade conference,”

A trade conference sounded half norma-

“For drugs,” he finished.

Of course, it was a trade conference for drugs. What else could I have expected from a mob boss? It was not like this guy to lead even a half normal, mediocre life.

I cocked my eyebrow for him to explain further.

“My men in Italy think that it would be wise for us to expand our trading horizons. We had a scare just the other day with the Russian Mafia, they received a tip regarding our cartel supplies. Where we are in French Polynesia, there is a wide trading network for weapons. Its not as if we are short in supplies, but it would be helpful to restock. So, we’re here to trade a small portion of our drug supplies for a large number of weapons. Aleara, I am not telling you this because I give a shit about you. I’m telling you this because I have to. I can’t have you walking in there smiling like a whore, everyone there is a trained killer, one wrong move and you’re toast,”

I bit my lip and took a step back, uncomfortable with the fact that I was going to be in a room filled with more murderers. But I didn’t have a choice, I was the property of the mafia, my future wasn’t up to me anymore.

“When do we leave?” I questioned.

His brows furrowed together; a small smile emerged on his lips.

“Nowhere when you look like that,” he scoffed.

I glanced over towards the mirror, my god, I did look like shit. My makeup was smeared all over my face and my hair was everywhere and mattered.

He wasn’t even being a dick this time, it was true.

He continued, “we leave at five o’clock, there has been a suitcase placed in your cupboard with all of the clothes and attires you need. An outfit has been laid out for you,”

I looked at the digital clock on the wall. It was only eight o’clock. I groaned.

“What am I meant to do for the next nine hours?” I demanded, some holiday.

He grabbed his phone from the charging port on the bench and began tapping away furiously on his screen.

“Atlas,” I persisted tirelessly.

“What?” He answered venomously.

I ignored his raged tone and continued, “What am I meant to do for the next nine hours?” I asked again.

“I don’t fucking know. Now give me my jacket back, you’ve probably got your whore stench all over it already,” he ripped his jacket off my shoulders and threw it down onto the bed. He went back to his phone and left the hotel room, slamming the door behind him.

Moody bastard.

I went out to the deck and onto the jetty, the weather was hot and so was I. where we were staying, we were right on the beach and right now, that looked like the place to be.

I raced back into the hotel room, emptying the suitcases until I found a swimsuit.

I pulled out a bikini…. Well, an eyepatch.

Oh my god, modesty is not one of Atlas Drakov’s strong points.

I slid on the black bikini and made my way back out towards the jetty and down to the hotel reception area.

On the go, I slid on a white, almost translucent cover up and made my way towards the front door.

Well, almost.

I came to a halt at the door as two at least 250 kilo men stood in front of me, completely blocking the entrance. They stared down harshly at me, judgey bastards.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One spoke, he had thick brown hair and a thick Italian accent.

“The beach,” I casually replied.

I thought about running but decided against it. My odds when running from mobsters in a confined area weren’t the greatest. I would have to wait for the prime opportunity.

The two men exchanged hard and almost unreadable glances towards each other before swapping hushed whispers towards each other.

“You can go to the beach, but there will be men trailing behind you,”

Fuckkkkkk.

Didn’t these guys know that I didn’t want to be followed everywhere.

“Whatever. But could you at least stay at a distance. Like a far away distance,” I groaned sassily. God, I hated this shit.

I didn’t wait for a reply before I walked briskly out of the hotel front doors, cursing silently under my breath as I glanced back at the dozen of Atlas’ men that had their eyes glued on me as I exited the lobby. This was just humiliating now.

The two oversized water buffalos trailed close behind me.

As soon as the sliding glass doors opened, I made my escape, which was easy given my small size.

I bolted down the highway, ignoring the yells and cries for me to stop that came from behind, to hell I was stopping for some mobsters. My bare feet barely touched the white pavement of the island as I made my way down to the beach.

It wasn’t like none of those fuckers didn’t know where I was going, I had made it quite clear, and besides, Atlas couldn’t get mad at me for getting a leisurely head start on his men. It wasn’t even like I was really running away; I was merely going to the beach.

I reached the beach in no time.

My feet hit the warm pale white sand and a wave of relief rushed through my body. Finally, some time where my life felt semi normal again, I was alone at the beach where I could enjoy myself for at least five minutes before having to worry about being murdered again.

The beach was crowded, with rich women in extravagant swimsuits and men smoking cigars everywhere.

There was a group of young men playing football on the sand in front of me.

I laid out my hotel towel and sat down, taking in the view. I pulled off the cover up and through it away, earning whistles from the men, I couldn’t help but blush as I trotted down to the waters break to feel the temperature.

The water was cool, it was beautiful, I felt myself aching to go inside.

“Hey!”

I glanced over to see an attractive young man of about twenty approach me. He gave me a boyish smile, holding up the football in one hand.

“Want to play?” He had a heavy French accent.

I gave a wide grin and moved hair from my face, “I would love to, but I don’t really know how,” I blushed some more.

He waved it off, his bleach white teeth beaming out at me.

“There’s not much too it, just hold the laces and throw,”

Simple enough.

I joined in the circle and began to join in throwing the ball around to each of the guys, I felt myself actually having a bit of fun. I flirted a bit and messed around carelessly. The world of mobsters, drugs, and tattoos seemed to fade for a little bit.

Little did I know that a certain Italian mob boss didn’t like his ‘property’ making new friends.