Immersed in my world I mentally thanked the three of them for not trying to probe my emotional state. I honestly have no idea how to tell them that I am the daughter of mobsters. No, rather. I don't know how to tell them that Dmitry Bogdanov is my family. I come back to reality when we start to stop in front of the door of an apartment. My full attention is on Nathan as I listen to his explanation.

"Danielle will stay in that one over there," he points to the door diagonal to us, "that's Logan's house and this one here," I turn to see the door behind Nate, "that's my apartment and you will stay with me."

I look at the white number stuck on the gray door.

"The guy from apartment 512, like the song?" He smiles amused at what I say. "It was all planned, wasn't it?" I mumbled, but I knew they heard me.

"Don't bother, Natasha," Logan replied. "You see, these apartments are very small and there's only room for two people per house" he raised an eyebrow, holding back the urge to laugh. "We c