11. Katya
CHAPTER 11
KATYA
Goose bumps cover my skin, and shivers wrack my body as the elevator climbs up and up. It takes a full minute or more before it arrives, and the doors open directly into an over-the-top apartment.
Fyodor steps out, and the doors slide closed behind us. It’s a private elevator with a private garage. This must be the penthouse. I look up two full stories and am startled to find a glass ceiling to confirm my suspicions.
My throat bobs as I swallow, and a trail of sweat trickles down my back, absorbing into the fabric of the babydoll dress they stuffed me into. Removing the damn thing should be my top priority, but I’m not ready for the implications of that either. I’m trapped up here with a murderer, but that’s not the part that terrifies me.
This place is much too large and bright for someone like me. Why didn’t he bring me to some motel to fuck? What could he want to do that would require coming here?
He walks in a wide circle with me in his arms, allowing me to observe the room and the breadth of what he has, but he says nothing. This isn’t really a tour but a show of power. It works.
Jesus Christ . I’m more afraid than I was before. Of course I noticed the fact that not only did he kill Franco but he also skipped out on paying. I wasn’t even sure those millions existed. Who the hell is going to say no to Fyodor Domalachego anyway? He could have paid them with a threat.
I make the sign of the cross—an absent gesture rather than a decision. I’ve never seen anything like this, and I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into.
We move away from the sweeping glass, the view of the city that ripped itself off the pages of a magazine. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I check his expression. He’s nothing but serious, not at all giddy about getting some action or remorseful for the murder he just committed. I worry I won’t be able to take whatever he wants to do to me as we climb a staircase where the height of the ceilings is standard.
The change in scenery is all I need to develop an illusion of safety like I’m suddenly protected when I was seconds from being plucked out of the sky by some giant bird of prey.
I sigh in relief at the cradled feeling of his arms and the near darkness of the low-lit stairwell. The same feeling as when he helped me with my casts and lifted me swells inside me along with the anxiety.
Fyodor repeatedly looks down at me. I’m not sure if he’s gauging my expression or just more excited than I thought for the fact he’s about to have me. He must find me attractive to have spent that kind of money, and no matter how disgusting I feel for selling my virginity, I’m not turned off by the idea of being with him. He’s too damn good-looking to dread it the way I should, too gentle with me.
Pietro is gone, so what does it really matter?
I want to ask him questions, but before I can, he stops at the guest room he was talking about. The pulse in my ears drowns out every sound around me, surprising me in its intensity. I didn’t know I could still have emotions like this. I didn’t know there was anything left in the world to fear, but I’m afraid to open my legs and let this man fuck me.
What if he makes me come?
I’m not sure my heart can take it.
He opens the door, revealing an underfurnished room with a wooden bed and a dresser. The white duvet and curtains remind me of the hospital, where everything was kept clinical and easy to bleach, but the vanilla and honey smell of the apartment keeps me grounded.
He’s right. It’s sparse and cold, but that seems like a fine enough setting for something that won’t be warm or intimate. He places me on the edge of the bed, taking special care to put my feet down gently.
He looks me over from the top of my head to my covered toes, and I shiver beneath his scrutiny. It’s then I realize he’s covered in a fine spray of Franco’s blood, and I probably am too. That thought turns my stomach more than losing my virginity.
Fyodor’s harsh black gaze never leaves me, eating every inch of me up. I might be a virgin, but I’ve seen enough men want me to recognize the look. However, Fyodor is calculating far more than how and what he’ll fit inside me.
“What is your doctor’s name?” The low timbre of his voice affects me too. Now that he’s not touching me, I vaguely wish he was again.
Maybe the sex will be okay if someone is holding me?
“My doctor?” I ask as I stare up at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man this large in real life. The shocks of silver in his black hair only make him look more intense. I pray to God his cock doesn’t match the rest of him because he might split me in half like a bolt of lightning.
“It’s a simple question.”
It is, but not one that’s important to him, and I’m quickly resenting the idea that I’ll give him something more than the sex he paid for. He’s already making me like him and crave his company, which is a cruelty, given our relationship is just for tonight.
“I don’t have one.”
He looks over my legs and the clear medical attention I’ve received.
“When you’re brought to a hospital in an ambulance, they are legally required to care for you up to a point.”
“And?”
“That point ended.” Why is he making me discuss this with him? When I get my damn money, I’ll see if something can be done for my legs. He’s still staring at me, making no move to undress or touch me.
“What hospital, Kotyonok?” He gives me a sharp look. “It’s best for you to stow your claws.”
“What hospital?” He already told me not to make him repeat himself, and I should have listened.
He steps forward with a hard edge to his posture, and I automatically jerk back. He reaches out a massive hand and cups my cheek, similar to how he did in the car, but he touches more of me.
“I told you I don’t like to repeat myself.” He moves to grip my chin a little too hard, showing me he’s more than capable of hurting me without much effort.
“Hawthorne General,” I answer for the sake of sparing the pressure on my jaw.
“That wasn’t so hard.” My gaze flicks down to his zipper, and his soft laughter echoes in the back of his throat, sensual and flirtatious. “My eyes are up here.”
“I was trying to avoid them.”
“Why are you being so sassy? I would think you would want to make things easier on yourself.”
A little bit of my patience snaps. “You don’t need to know what hospital treated me or who my doctor is. Let’s get this over with so I can go.”
I’m done being played with. He needs to take what he paid for and release me. I don’t need his fake kindness, and it’s not my damn fault he got ripped off.
“Get what over with exactly, Kotyonok?”
My cheeks flame as I gear up to say it. Thinking crass things and saying them are an entirely different animal, and I’m still a good Russian Orthodox girl somewhere deep down.
“Take my virginity. Just do it. I don’t want to stay here.”
The strangest expression crosses his face, and then he laughs. The timbre is so deep it shakes my chest and fills my eyes with hot tears.
“What’s so funny?” I demand, fear exploding in my gut, rage hot on its heels.
“Katya, I bid three million dollars for you— not your virginity.” His brows push together like he’s shocked to have to explain this to me. “You’ve been so calm. It’s because you didn’t understand.” It’s not a question but an explanation to something he wondered.
My brow creases in confusion. My mouth forms around words of argument.
“Franco wouldn’t.”
A flash of pity, and suddenly, the truth is crystal clear. My director lied to me. My only use to my old ballet company was a steep cash infusion, and getting it was worth lying to me and picking me up off Scott’s door.
He offered to help, and he sold me. None of it was ever meant for me. How was I so desperate I didn’t see the truth unrolling in front of my face?
I’m so fucking glad he killed Franco.
But is he being kind to me to set me up as a placid pet for himself? I’m going to be sick.
“The girls before me sold for a lot less.” My mouth argues while my heart shatters. “I’m naive to think you’d pay that much for sex, but you can’t tell me a human life is worth twenty thousand fucking dollars.”
“Watch your mouth,” he cautions.
“They couldn’t have bought that woman for twenty thousand fucking dollars! Her life, her—her?—”
He just stares at me with black eyes that remain unmoved.
“I can see that you’re upset, Kotyonok, and I don’t blame you. But I wouldn’t worry about anyone’s fate but your own. You’re young, and you’ll outlive me.” A cruel smile tugs at half his mouth. “But I won’t pretend I’m in poor health. You may get free eventually.”
Tears well. I didn’t think I could sink lower. What more could I lose? I’ve asked myself that question too many times lately, but my own agency isn’t one I thought I could lose.
“You don’t own me. I don’t care who you paid or how much. You can’t own a person. God owns my soul.” It’s a broken argument. I doubt it’s even true anymore. My creator forsook me when I decided to sell myself, maybe even before then, when he took Pietro.
He stares for another minute, some of the hardness yielding to an old sadness.
“Just do it, and get it over with.”
“I’m not taking your virginity, Kotyonok, but it’s time for you to get very comfortable with your new lot in life because it isn’t going to change anytime soon.”
“What does it matter to you? You said you didn’t plan this. Surely, you don’t want to keep me.”
“I’m a man of my word, Kotyonok. The options are to keep you or sell you. Which do you prefer?”
The weight of his words sinks into my chest, and desperation claws the back of my throat open. I should heed his threat about selling me. Didn’t that audience tonight tell me anything about how much worse it can be?
“It doesn’t work, does it? Need to pop a pill to get it up?” I taunt, so desperate and angry I’m willing to try anything, say anything that would force him to fuck me, realize I’m not worth keeping, and turn me loose. I was wrong. Living on the street would be better.
He says nothing. Just stares me in the eyes. I’m sure this time he’s going to hurt me. He’s threatened me twice now for my insolence. I don’t know why, but I want him to. I’m desperate for it. Fucking destroy what’s left of me.
He opens his belt and shoves a hand into his pants. I watch with far more interest than I should as he strokes his length a few times. Where’s the violence I’m counting on?
If he’s going to be rough with anyone, I guess it’s himself as he strokes himself to an erection. His fist wrinkles his gray slacks until the head presses against the fabric. He removes his hand, pulling the zipper down slowly for maximum impact. His grand reveal scares the hell out of me.
I’ve never seen a cock in real life, and this one is surely well above average. It’s as thick as my wrist and long, and despite my taunting, he manages to get hard all on his own. He runs that hand up and down it once more, and I swallow as my mouth dries.
“I could fuck you if I wanted to, Kotyonok. I could do things to your body you can’t even imagine, and you’d thank me. I don’t want to.”
The words are a slap across the face. Not just because everything is going wrong and my whole life has fallen apart, but because I’m hot and needy between my thighs, and it’s a result of him and the heavy cock between us.
He stuffs himself back into his pants, the outline clear as day. If he was trying to make an impression, he succeeded. He closes the button, then his belt like he has all the time in the world. Like I’m not sitting in front of him wet and humiliated.
“Rest. Eat what arrives. Do not make a problem of yourself.”
I don’t answer, trying to understand how my life came to this and what I could have done differently. Everything is my final answer. I should have just fucking killed myself in the hospital.
He pulls a bottle of pills out of his pocket and places two on the bedside table. Walking into what must be an en suite bathroom, he returns a moment later with a glass of water.
“Take these. They’ll help you sleep.” The largest hand I’ve ever seen places the glass next to the pills.
“I count on your understanding,” he says as he turns to open the door. He doesn’t look at me again before it closes, and a distinct click sounds from the outside. I’m locked in.
With that snapping sound, the last vestiges of my strength break. Doing as he said, I take the pills and then fall to pieces on that bed, still a virgin, still belonging to Pietro in every fiber of my being.
And once there are no more tears to cry, I sleep for a very long time.