Page 112 of Contract of a Billionaire
No sooner than he had, my phone, still back at the table, started ringing. I ignored it. It rang again. And again.
Áine brought it over to me. “It could be important.”
“Thank you.” I smiled gratefully, then answered the call. “Are you seeing it?” It was Loren.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want in?”
“Yeah.”
“If we do this, we’re on our own,” Loren grumbled. “The editor doesn’t want to approve it.”
I frowned. The screaming. People. Children. Crying.
“Why not?”
“It came from above.” I shook my head. Someone always had an agenda. It couldn't just be simple - report, snap the pictures, and make a difference.
“Okay, let me know.” I ended the call, my eyes glued on the television.
Goddamn it, humans could be so damn cruel. I didn’t care what race, continent, language they spoke - it was always the innocent ones that paid the price.
“Is everything okay?” Alessio came up behind me, wrapping his hands around me.
“Yeah, the crew wants to go in,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the screen. “But they won’t get the clearance to go.”
I thought he let out a relieved breath, but Nico took my attention. “Probably for the best. Shit will turn nasty there.”
“It doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be reported on.”
Nico tilted his chin to it. “It’s being reported on.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “No, it’s not. Look at it.” My hand shot out towards the television. “It’s reporting only the area around the airport. What about the whole goddamn country? The innocent people that will be left at the mercy of the dictators. The boys they’ll put in to fight.”
“That’s one way to get your hands on a weapon,” Sasha remarked. My fingers curled into my palms and I fought the urge to smack him, right across his face. His hands shot up. “I’m joking.”
“Are you?” I snapped. “Do you know what happens to boys that get their hands on those weapons? They are usually dead before they even reach adulthood.”
“We better hope none of our guns make it to that general area,” Sasha grumbled. “Alessio’s woman might kill us.”
“Your guns?” I hissed. “You think you control where your illegal guns go?”
“We always check our buyers.” Vasili came to his brother’s defense.
I scoffed. “What? You have them sign an NDA? A resellers agreement?” I took a step towards Vasili, my finger pointing at his chest. “Admit it. You have absolutely no control where your guns go. They go to desperate countries like that. To the highest bidder.” I flicked my chin towards the television. “To little boys’ hands. Or adult criminals. I don’t know which is worse.”
My anger rose with each second, so many words bubbling inside me. “Next time you sell a gun, Mr. Nikolaev, imagine your own child holding it.” Vasili growled, his whole expression darkening. “Yeah, you don’t like that, do you? Well, neither do the parents of those boys,” I said, pointing over my shoulder, back to the TV.
“Jesus, this girl is worse than the tree huggers,” Sasha muttered. “She’s going to save the world.”
“Sasha–” Vasili and Alessio uttered at the same time, but I was so far gone, I couldn’t hold my tongue back.
I took a threatening step towards the scary tattooed man who watched me like I was an annoying fly on the wall.
“One day, Sasha Nikolaev,” I shoved my hand against his chest but the guy was like a pile of big rocks, “ – someone’s going to stab that black heart of yours,” I told him, reining in my anger. “And I’m going to have a front row seat to it. And fucking popcorn.”
I almost let it slip that Branka would carve her initials into his heart. And fuck it, I will definitely help her. Two heads were better than one.
