# 3—Chapter 7
Angelo
I can hardly register what happened.
I left Anastasia downstairs with her attitude while I went upstairs for a drink. I opened a bottle of our expensive Monfortino wine. I savored the taste, having a few glasses and watching the girls, and then all the commotion happened.
It happened in an instant and immediately my thoughts went to Anastasia. I pulled my gun from the holster around my chest, the Bratva were attacking.
I shot an entire clip before rushing to the dungeon. Anastasia was peacefully sleeping, I made a ton of noise and yet she didn’t stir-of course. I grabbed her, I could sense her fear, then she relaxed and I realized that she thought she was being rescued. I took her to the only place I knew she’d be completely safe-my house.
It was a stupid and impulsive move, but in that moment my only concern was for Anastasia.
Now as she stands in front of me in my home looking royally pissed off, I realize my mistake. My men are not going to like this.
I couldn’t care less that my house may be in danger. That now I’m in danger. No one knows that I brought her here and I’d like to keep it that way. Which is a problem for me. I don’t trust any of my men to watch Anastasia in my house. It was one thing having Christian and Piero watch her in the dungeon they didn’t have a key to the cell-I did. They never could have gotten to her. I’ll never trusted those idiots in my home. Nario was the only man I could trust in my home, but he’s dead. Now no one is allowed here except the old maid and cook who were both hired to serve my mother and father at the mansion. I’ve known them since I was a child and I trust them.
What I don’t trust is Anastasia. My cook and maid aren’t bodyguards, they can’t watch over when I’m gone. She’s got moxie with her stubborn attitude and there’s no doubt in my mind she’d try and escape at any chance. She’s a fighter and the only one I trust to look after her at this time, is me. Christian and Piero are loyal, but they think with their dick and will no doubt try to have their way with Anastasia. The rest of my men would love the opportunity to torture her-we all have a vendetta against Vasiliev.
“My father found where you hid me once, he can do it again,” Anastasia says matter of fact.
“He won’t this time. I won’t let anyone get to you. But first, I have a question for you,” I pause and she tilts her head, “Would prefer red hair or black hair?”
She grips her long locks of blonde hair and shakes her head. “No way. You are not dying my hair!”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight and I sure as hell am not staying in this apartment until your father finally decides to give me what I want.”
Warily she signs slowly, “So what do you mean to do to me?”
I smile. “A disguise and I have the perfect idea.”Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.