Thirty Four.

I take a seat across from Aydem as we are seated at the small table in the corner of the room. My entire body is still humming from his palm resting on the small of my back as he ushered me inside the restaurant.

As expected, he was drawing attention to himself with the way he naturally dominated the room. To those dining, we appeared to be on a dinner date.

However,

Aydem and I were both aware that this was not the case. He wants to continue our discussion from this morning and to be honest, I'm not sure what he is expecting to learn from me.

We place our orders with the waitress, and as she departs, Aydem removes a file from the inside of his suit jacket and glides it across the table.

"Some light reading for you while we wait for our dinner." He winks at me with a lopsided smirk on his face.

I sigh, opening the file and begin to browse the pages.

>>>

The Ice in the cognac glass clinks as the waitress sets it down in front of me on the cute little cocktail napkin. I give her a slight smile and a small nod as a thank you and return my focus to the file that's sitting in front of me.

The file consists of everything there is to know about every member of the Esposito family, including their business locations, the times and days on which their shipments would arrive, the motels they own for the purpose of money laundering, and criminal records that were supposed to be sealed.

Our waitress reappears with our meals, laying them in front of us, and I catch a glimpse of her tucking a napkin beneath his drink with her number scribbled across it.

As I watch him discreetly tuck the napkin into his pocket, irritation licks my skin.

Pig!! My inner Goddess cries out, and I concur.

When she leaves,

I peer up at him while he cuts into his freshly grilled salmon. "I don't know why you're showing me this?" I pick up my glass and take a sip of the amber hue liquor.

He places his utensils on his plate and wipes his lips with the white napkin beside it.

Clearing his throat, "I took the liberty of doing a deeper dive into your background too."

'What!!' My inner Goddess screams.

I choke on my drink, staring at him wide-eyed. "And?" I pat my chest with my hand as I try to recover from my coughing fit.

"From what I can gather, you've been looking for a way out for a long time. Which means they have something over you." He leans back in his chair, rubbing his jaw.

I close the folder and push it towards him. "I don't know what you want from me. My hands are tied and if they find out that my cover is blown it's only a matter of time before they get rid of me." I pick up my spoon and start eating the seafood chowder I ordered.

I mean,

there's no point dwelling on what can no longer be prevented so I might as well enjoy the overpriced meal while I still have the luxury of breathing.

He cocks his head to the side, and any sign of humour on his face swiftly melts away. "I will allow you to carry out your mission, apart from letting you steal my designs."

I regard him with my brows pinching together, "And why are you willing to do that?" I ask with curiosity.

"Because I believe we can help each other out."

I set my spoon down, raising my hand mid-air to get the attention of the waitress looking after us and when she looks at me, I raise my glass requesting another whiskey.

"I'm not interested in being anybody's pawn, Mr Burak. I was given my orders and now that I know I cannot carry them out. I have to report back to Castello and accept my fate." I try to keep my voice as firm as possible.

I don't want him to believe that he has the upper hand where I will jump through hoops just so he can save my ass and thrust me into a new world of mayhem.

"What I am more intrigued about is the Italian mafia's feud with the Turkish mafya." I savour the last of the whisky in my glass as the waitress places another in front of me.

"My family was forced to change their name three generations ago. My great, great grandfather is a twin; when he and his brother were born, they were secretly sent abroad to train with the greatest so that they would be unstoppable when the time came to take over the family business." He started. "During their days of training, their adversaries, the Sedats, set fire to their family home, killing every member of their family. As the twins reached adulthood, they changed their identities; one brother adopted the alias Burak, while the other adopted the alias Ozturk. They slowly began to eliminate each member of the Sedat family, not knowing that they had an allegiance with the Esposito family." He paused, taking a sip from his glass of red wine with his eyes scanning the room.

"Please, carry on." I encourage him enthusiastically, eager to learn everything there is to know about Trent and Castello in case there is anything I can use against them.

He sets his glass back down on the table and leans across the table. "I'm afraid we are going to have to leave, gather your things and keep your eyes on me." He says as he sweeps my hair behind my ear.

"Why?" I ask breathlessly as the pad of his thumb skims my cheekbone.

"Because we are being watched. I will take you home and we can finish the conversation there?" He suggests as he raises his hand.

The waitress stands at his side, offering him the small slick book with the check; without reading it, Aydem stuffs it with a few hundred dollar bills and returns it to her.

"No," I quickly reply. "It will not be safe if one of Trent's men is surveilling us."

A look of bitterness crosses his face. "What do you propose instead, Miss Cross?" He rises from his chair, standing at my side with his hand out.

"Our safest bet will be the office. If we can convince them that we have been working all along, they will believe I am getting closer to earning your trust." I place my hand in his, allowing him to help me out of my seat like a true gentleman.

I slightly twist my neck and throw a glance over my shoulder, catching the guy Aydem mentioned was observing us. When I realise who it is, I gasp. It is Enzo, sitting at a table with an unidentified female companion.

Dread nibbles at me as Clara Cross Is meant to be allergic to shellfish and I've been caught dining in at one of the cities most infamous seafood restaurants.

"To the office, Miss Cross." He responds in a smokey tone, his palm resting on the small of my back as he escorts me out of the restaurant, and my body quivers under his touch.