Page 125 of Contract of a Billionaire

The news came on. Middle East. Afghanistan. Crowds of people, chaos.

“When did you start caring about the situation in the Middle East?” Luca asked dryly. “Aren’t you a matchmaker or a blogger? Some weird shit like that.”

A few soft snickers traveled around the table. My friends might have not seen Branka grow up but they’ve heard me talk about her plenty. It was probably why they knew her so well.

“Autumn is in trouble.” My eyes snapped to my little sister. “I told her not to go,” she muttered, her hand with the remote visibly shaking.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. Branka usually didn’t get so frazzled.

“Where is Autumn?” I asked, although in my heart I knew.

Before Branka had a chance to answer, the beauty that had been my obsession since her eighteenth birthday showed up on the screen.

The screaming crowds, shots fired, dead bodies covered with filthy sheets. Crying. Misery. A war and my woman was there.

“You knew she was going to Afghanistan?” I roared, glaring at my little sister.

Kol startled on my lap, his gray eyes with the freckles of hazel green, shot up to me. I forced myself to calm down and smiled at the boy.

“It’s okay,” I assured him, keeping my tone leveled, though something heavy settled in my chest. Fear.

This was worse than waking up after being drugged and knowing what had been done to me. This was so much worse. I’d take a hundred more episodes of that, if only Autumn was here. Safe. Protected.

Not on the screen, in the middle of a fucking war.

Autumn’s camera hung heavy around her neck. Heavy exhaustion lingered on her face.

“How is she there if the trip wasn’t approved?” I demanded to know, keeping fury at bay.

“They went as freelancers,” Branka mumbled. “They are good and tend to snap footage and photos that nobody else does. Sometimes they get pulled into interviews.”

“Maman.” Kol’s both hands banged on the desk, seeing his mother on the screen. “Maman.”

“Yes, it’s Maman.” The words choked my throat. My fucking heart ached like someone had taken it and hammered it to pieces.

Autumn seemed calm. Someone was interviewing her. Her words and compassion resonated in her eyes along with the glistening of unshed tears.

And terror.

Sheer terror shone in her hazel eyes that now looked more brown than ever before. It might not be evident to others but it was clear as day to me. My ears buzzed, her words barely registering.

She wore plain black cargo pants and a white t-shirt, which wasn’t so white. There were smudges of dirt and blood on it. Her jet-black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. She looked younger than her twenty-six. Too young to save a goddamn world. Her chest had blotches of red, her knuckles gripping the microphone were chalk white.

She was scared shitless.

“How could you not tell me that she’d headed for Afghanistan?” I hissed in a low voice, glaring at my little sister. “There’s a fucking war going on there. She can’t be there.”

“She’s been there before,” she justified. “Yes, it’s dangerous but the troops are there. I thought she’d be safe. She always kept a security escort with her.”

“Well, where in the fuck is the security escort now?” I gritted. Kol’s eyes darted between Branka and me. The last thing I wanted to do was frighten him.

“I don’t know, Alessio,” she snapped. “I’m not her babysitter, you know. She’s a grown woman and she wants to save the fucking world. So instead of preaching at me for not fucking snitching on her, do something about her situation.”

“Sasha has military experience,” Vasili offered. It didn’t escape me how Branka stiffened. “Not sure if he has connections to anyone in the Middle East though.”

He already started typing a message.

“Sasha has been busy stirring up trouble,” Luca chimed in, rolling his eyes. “I think he’s aiming to wipe out the DiLustros.”