Rowan.
There was nothing that could've prepared me for Alessander suddenly announcing he was taking me over to Russia to see the leader of the Russian Mafia.
The bastard tried making it sound like a casual visit to the elderly, when it was a literal life or death situation.
I still didn't believe it, until I found myself standing in the middle of a hangar, staring at two private jets.
"I'm really flying to Russia." I said to myself as some people took my luggage and loaded it into the jet.
Alessander was busy talking with the pilot, their conversation was deep in Russian, so I had not the slightest idea what they were saying.
My phone rang, drawing me out of this madness, I took it out of my jacket, only to see it was dr Phil calling.
"Rowan where are you? I've been banging on your front door for a while." He said, apparently from my house.
Oh fuck, how do I even begin to explain?