Born into Temptation (Devils Will Rise: Melnikov Legacy #4)

12. Valentin

Chapter 12

Valentin

18 Years Old

Y elena smiles at me from across the dinner table. My sister nudges her, whispering some joke in her ear, but I can tell Yel is only half-listening. We’d all arrived at the farmhouse a few hours ago, and so far I haven’t managed to get her alone yet. The need to touch her, to taste her, is overwhelming, and I know she feels it just as strongly.

Our entire family is here for the weekend, and I intend to make the most of our time together. When she meets my eyes again, I give her a quick wink that has her biting her bottom lip in an effort to hide her smile. I have to force myself to look away or risk making it painfully obvious how in love with her I am.

Luka elbows me gently and puts a huge bowl of potato salad in my hands, giving me his “cool it the fuck down” look. Our parents might be oblivious to how Yelena and I feel about each other, but I think my older cousins have always known. They’ve never asked me about it, though. It’s more like something they accept, like it’s a given that Yel and I are together and that we always will be. Luka is always quick to provide a distraction or to let me know when I need to tone it down, like right now when I can’t help but stare at Yelena with the lovesick puppy-dog eyes I’m sure I’m giving her.

I take the bowl and shoot him a grateful smile before filling my plate and joining in on the conversation around me. This isn’t the first time it’s been a struggle to keep myself in check, and I know it won’t be the last. Every moment of my life is spent trying not to show how I feel about my cousin. Luka might be related by blood to Yelena, but I’m not, and I hate that I still have to hide how I feel. I don’t care how we were raised. I will never think of the woman sitting across from me as a relative. She’s the love of my life, the woman who will be my wife one day and carry our children. She’s my whole world, and she’ll never be anything less than that.

“You guys want to watch a movie later?”

I turn my head at Sasha’s question, and quickly say, “Yeah, I’m in,” because a movie night means a dark room and the chance to share a blanket with Yelena.

“Me, too,” Yelena says, and this time it’s my turn to bite back a smile when she stretches her foot out and rubs it against mine.

“Fine,” my twin agrees and then gives a dramatic sigh. “But it has to be something good. I’m not doing another marathon of depressing crime shows.”

“Those were good,” Sasha says, leaning over so he can face Sveta. “True crime is interesting.”

Sveta raises a brow at him. “Isn’t your whole life true crime enough?”

He sighs and grabs another roll. “Not yet it’s not.”

She laughs at his bummed-out tone, but we all know he’s not joking. At sixteen, he’s more than ready to join the Bratva. Luka, Max, and I officially joined a few months ago when we turned eighteen, and it still doesn’t feel real at times. I’m still getting used to leading what feels like two very separate lives. On more than one occasion, I’ve left the house early in the morning and then returned late at night after killing someone, and I’m expected to act like everything is fine. For the most part, it is fine. I have no illusions about the type of men we encounter and do business with. None of us are offing law-abiding citizens or terrorizing our streets so everyone around us lives in fear. It’s quite the opposite, and the men we kill aren’t worth losing any sleep over. It’s still hard sometimes to laugh and joke around, though. There have been nights where it hasn’t been so easy to switch back into normal mode, and every time that happens I make up an excuse to see Yelena. She can always tell when I’m struggling. As soon as she sees it, she’ll climb into my lap and hug me, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my neck. She never asks any questions, never demands that I speak to her about it—she just holds me, and it’s the sweetest thing in the world.

“So you guys are doing another movie marathon?” my dad asks when we’re clearing away plates and cleaning up.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “Sveta will probably pick the movies. You know how bossy she is.”

I laugh when Sveta throws a hand towel at me. “I’m not bossy. I’ll make you a deal. You can pick the movie if you make all the popcorn and give me the last box of Ding Dongs.”

“Don’t do it,” my dad tells me. “That is a shit deal, son.”

I laugh at my dad and sister’s sweet tooth and hold out my hand to my twin. “Deal,” I tell her because I know Yelena will offer to help me make everything, and time alone with her is definitely worth a box of sweets.

My dad sighs and then looks over at Sveta. “You’re going to give me one, though, right?”

Sveta digs one out and tosses it to him. He catches it with a grin. “Thanks, sweetheart.” Opening the wrapper, he takes a big bite as he walks out of the kitchen. Before he leaves, he looks back and says, “Your mom and I are going for a swim. No one come outside unless you want to see us naked. I may have accidentally on purpose forgotten to pack our swimsuits.”

“Jesus, Dad,” I groan while Sveta fakes a dry heave and the rest of our cousins laugh.

“Don’t forget we all use that pool!” Uncle Roman hollers at my dad.

“Don’t do anything too gross,” my Uncle Lev adds.

My dad just laughs before popping in the last bite of his Ding Dong and throwing my mom over his shoulder on his way out the back door.

I look at my twin, knowing she’s thinking the same thing when I say, “I’m glad they’re so happy, but I may never be able to swim in that pool again.”

“We’re going to need to throw in a ton of chlorine and erase the memory from our minds,” Sveta says while opening one of the wrappers. Much like our dad, she walks off while shoving the snack in her mouth, leaving me to work on the popcorn while everyone else follows her into the media room we’re claiming for the night. When I put the first bag into the microwave, the rest of the adults disappear with a quick good night. I grin when a few seconds later, Yelena slips back into the kitchen with me.

As soon as she’s close enough, I grab her hand and pull her into the pantry.

“Val,” she whisper shouts. “What if they come back?”

“Then they’ll find us in here looking for more popcorn,” I tell her, already cupping her face and bringing my lips to hers. Knowing our time is limited, I don’t waste a second of it. Threading my fingers in her dark hair, I kiss her hard and deep while my other hand slides down her back to cup her ass. I groan at the feel of her as her taste fills my mouth and I grow painfully hard. Her tongue runs along mine as she slips her hands under my shirt and runs her nails up my back. The sensation pulls another groan from me, and I’m two seconds away from undoing her jeans when the smell of burnt popcorn filters into the pantry.

“Fuck,” I groan, not wanting to let her go. The microwave beeps, so I figure there’s no use running out there since it’s burnt anyway. Instead, I kiss her again and smile when she unbuttons her pants so I can snake my hand down and cup her bare ass. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she whispers. “Aren’t you tired of waiting, Val.” She murmurs the words against my lips, and then runs her tongue along the seam of them like the world’s biggest temptation. I told her I wanted to wait until she turned eighteen before we had sex, and her birthday is only a couple of weeks away. Waiting is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t want her to regret anything, and I can handle waiting a little bit longer. I’d wait forever for her.

“I want nothing more than to slide into you, myshka, but we’re waiting until your birthday.”

She scowls at me, and it’s adorable, so I kiss the tip of her nose and give a soft laugh. “Don’t forget that I’m a virgin, too. You’re not the only one who’s counting down the days.”

“I still can’t believe you are,” she admits.

I give her ass another squeeze. “I could never be with anyone else, Yel. You’re the only girl I want.”

She smiles up at me, and I’m so lost to her that it takes me a second to realize someone’s come into the kitchen. Yel’s body tenses when she hears the footsteps. My hand is still gripping one perfect ass cheek, I’m rock-fucking-hard, and we’re both flushed and breathless. If someone opens the pantry door right now, there’s no talking our way out of this compromising position.

We both let out a relieved sigh when we hear Sasha’s voice. “Val, you’re doing a shit job with the popcorn. It’s completely burnt.”

I give Yelena one more quick kiss while I memorize the sensation of her ass in my hand before reluctantly pulling away. “This isn’t over,” I whisper.

She smiles and reaches out to palm the hard line of my dick. “No, it is not.”

“Jesus,” I groan, forcing myself to take a step back while I adjust myself so my hard-on isn’t quite so obvious. When I open the pantry door, Sasha’s already thrown away the burnt bag and tossed another one in. He eyes me and then raises a brow when Yelena steps out from behind me with a few drinks in her hand.

“I’ll put these in the fridge,” she says, like there’s nothing suspicious at all about us locking ourselves in the pantry so we can get a few hot cokes.

Sasha leans against the counter, hands braced on either side of him while I grab several bowls. He watches me fill the first bowl and put in another bag to heat up.

“Want to take that in there?” I ask, handing him the bowl that’s already done.

He grins and takes it, but before he walks off, he nods towards Yelena. “Your pants are unbuttoned.”

“Shit,” I hear her whisper from behind me. I look back to see her frantically buttoning her jeans up while Sasha gives a soft laugh and leaves the kitchen.

“I mean, the good news is he won’t say anything,” I tell her.

“Yeah,” Yel agrees, because we both know Sasha is a lot things, but the guy is a vault when it comes to secrets. He won’t tell anyone what he saw in here, and when her dark eyes meet mine, I know we’re both thinking the same thing. We got damn lucky tonight. I still don’t regret it, though, and the wink I give her makes it clear that I’ll be sneaking her off to another dark corner as soon as I’m able to.

She smiles and gets the next bag of popcorn ready. When we head into the media room a few minutes later, we’re both balancing several bowls and everyone else is already comfortable and scrolling through the options.

“Okay, Val, we narrowed it down to two option,” Sveta says when I hand her a bowl.

“Is that what we agreed on?”

She smiles and takes the popcorn. “I’m pretty sure that was the agreement, yeah. I think you should pick the comedy.”

I hand out the rest of the bowls and when Sveta tells me to hurry up and pick, I toss a piece of popcorn at her and say, “Eat your damn Ding Dong, Sveta.”

Everyone laughs while Luka says, “I bet that’ s a sentence you never thought you’d say to your sister.”

I turn my back on their laughter and spot Yelena on one of the giant bean bags. I walk towards it and tell the others, “That’s fucking gross. It’s bad enough my parents are skinny-dipping in the pool right now.”

“Don’t remind me,” Max groans. “I was going to go for a swim in the morning.”

They’re still laughing about it when Yel burrows deeper into the large bag and pats the spot next to her. With a grin, I get in beside her, smiling even bigger when she pulls a thick blanket over us. This isn’t the first time we’ve gotten handsy during a movie marathon. It’s the sweetest kind of torture to have her eager hands running over me when I’m incapable of doing anything about it. I tell Sveta to put it on the comedy, knowing it’s one of Yelena’s favorites, and before the movie has even started, she’s snuggling closer and slipping a hand under my shirt. Her fingers tease my abs, and the hard-on I’d just managed to get under control sparks to life with a vengeance.

Leaning closer, I whisper in her ear. “This is cruel, myshka.”

“You’re the one who wants to wait,” she whispers back, smiling when she feels my abs tighten with the laugh I give.

“You’re worth the wait, baby. Do your worst.”

She does. She spends the whole movie exploring my body. Secret touches that leave me covered in pre-cum and so hard I can barely think. By the time the credits roll, my body is so tense with need that I’m shaking. The soft laugh she gives is downright wicked, and as soon as the second movie starts, I decide I can’t take any more. Grabbing her wrist, I squeeze it gently and pull her hand out of my jeans. Her fingers tease me the whole way until her hand is free and I’m barely hanging on.

“Two can play at this game, myshka.”

I smile at the wide-eyed look she gives me before I slowly run my hand up her inner thigh. For the next two hours, I tease the living hell out of her until she’s shaking and pressing her mouth to my ear.

“Please, Val,” she begs. “Please don’t leave me like this.”

I’m supposed to be teaching her a lesson, but fuck if I can resist her when she’s pleading so goddamn sweetly. A quick look around reveals that everyone else has already fallen asleep, and since our bag is off to the side, I’m not worried about anyone seeing anything. It’s the noise I’m worried about.

Her tongue runs over my neck while I whisper, “Not a sound, Yel.”

She nods, ready to agree to anything if it puts her out of her misery. I smile and drag my nose along her cheek. When I get to her ear, I kiss the sensitive spot right behind her earlobe that always drives her crazy.

“You think you can be silent, myshka?”

“Mm-hmm,” she practically purrs.

I smile and put her to the test.

Present Day

The memory fades from my mind faster than I want it to while my fingers dance along the faint scar on my shoulder. Proof that my girl can, in fact, not keep quiet while coming hard. She’d bitten me that night in an effort to stifle her cry of pleasure. It’s my favorite scar, even if it does make my chest ache painfully to remember it right now.

I bring the collar of my hoodie to my nose, trying to catch the faint scent of strawberries, but, unfortunately, all I smell is myself. After a week of staying at what Max and I are calling Hotel Shithole, we’re starting to learn the routine of the place. Every morning, or at least we assume it’s morning since there aren’t any windows in this dungeon, we’re treated to a wake-up call that entails a couple of swift kicks to the side. We’re then briefly unchained so we can each take a turn in what has to be the world’s grossest bathroom before we’re chained back up and given a glass of questionable water and enough food to ensure we don’t starve to death. Usually it’s a plate with a couple of tortillas, some plain rice, and a piece of meat that so far hasn’t smelled or tasted rancid. Most days we get at least one beating, because Max and I are still refusing to talk and our family is still refusing to budge, and the rest of the time we’re left alone, which has proven to be the most effective form of torture. At least when I’m getting a beating it helps take my mind off Yelena. When I’m left alone with my thoughts, I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.

“I wonder where they took her.” Max looks over at where the dark-haired girl had been chained. They’d come back and gotten her not too long after first bringing her in, and we haven’t seen her since.

“Maybe they let her go,” I say, trying to ease his worry. We both know the chances of that are slim to none, but believing the fantasy is better than him worrying nonstop about the horrors she might be enduring.

He doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to finish off the last of his meal before tossing his plate aside. I do the same and then take another small sip of water. We don’t get that much of it, and we both try to ration it as best we can.

“I miss my piano,” Max says from beside me. He’s been antsier than usual lately, fingers tapping out melodies that only he can hear. I have a feeling this experience is going to inspire some interesting compositions if we ever manage to get our asses out of here. “And I really miss showers,” he says with a soft grunt. “I can’t tell if I’m smelling you or me, but it ain’t good, man.”

I give him a half-smile and nudge his arm. “It’s definitely all you. I still smell amazing.”

He laughs because we both know that’s complete and utter bullshit. It’s impossible to smell fresh after being denied a proper shower for a week. I clean up as best I can during our short bathroom breaks, but there’s only so much you can do with a faucet and no soap.

We stay sitting with our shoulders touching and our backs against the hard brick. I close my eyes and think about Yelena while he gets lost in his music, both of us mentally escaping our reality as best we can. I’m busy wondering whether or not she’s still getting sick every morning or if it’s finally gone away when the doors open. Juan, Miguel, and Jose step in, dragging the dark-haired girl in after them. We’d learned the names of the three men who enjoy beating us, but aside from a few sentences, they don’t speak much English to us, and none of them understand Russian. When we’re being questioned, Mateo is always present. The fact that he’s not here today is both a good sign and a bad one. It means no interrogation, but it also means no one is here to keep these three in line.

I feel Max tense beside me when he sees the girl.

“Keep a blank face, Max,” I remind him in Russian. “They’ll hurt her more if they think you give a shit.”

Every part of me is focused on getting back to Yelena and nothing will stand in the way of that, so even though I don’t like it, I can look at this girl and not show any concern. Max is having a harder time with it. If they start to beat her, he will step in.

She lets out a yelp when Juan pushes her down to the floor and connects her chain to the hook above her head. Max’s hand curls into a fist, but he holds his tongue and keeps his focus on the floor.

It’s Miguel who steps forward and points between us, an unspoken question of who wants to get their ass kicked first. I flip him off before Max can, and when he narrows his dark eyes at me, I know I’ve won. We’ve learned that the second beating is usually a little gentler for the simple reason that their arms get tired, so Max and I always compete to be first to save the other from extra pain.

“Fucker,” Max whispers, and I hear the pain in his voice, hating that I’ve beaten him to it for the second day in a row.

I smile at him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll have enough energy to properly kick your ass too.” I look back at Miguel and widen my smile while I say in Russian, “They might be the three biggest pussies I’ve ever seen, but surely their stamina can’t be that bad.”

“For their girlfriends’ sakes at least, I hope not,” Max says.

The dark-haired girl lets out a very soft snort of a laugh, causing us to quickly look over at her while Miguel drags me to my feet. He may not know what I said, but he knows it was an insult, and the hard look in his eyes makes it clear that today is going to hurt.

“Do you speak Russian?” Max asks the girl.

She gives a quick nod but doesn’t say anything. Max whispers something to her, but I’m already being pulled off to the side and attached to one of the hooks. As much as I try to brace myself for what’s about to come, it never works. The first hit is always the worst. It’s a shock to the system, a reminder of how bad one body can hurt. It always takes a few hits before my mind can work around the pain, and Miguel always makes sure those first few hits are the worst, hitting ribs that are already bruised and probably cracked and the nose that’s still so fucking tender.

My head falls, blood dripping from my busted mouth as fists hit my chest and stomach before continuing around to my kidneys. I grunt in pain, unable to stop it. I’ll take a punch to the face over a kidney punch any day of the week. Miguel laughs and punches me several more times before stepping back and letting Juan take over.

It’s a shitty afternoon, and by the time they let me go, I can barely stand up. Every single part of my body hurts, and I want nothing more than to pass out, but when I slide down the wall next to Max, I nudge his shoulder and say, “Those three are such assholes. At least we’re entertaining when we beat people. We crack jokes, have personalities. These guys could learn a thing or two from us.”

Max lets out a humorless laugh while he discreetly eyes my injuries, trying to assess how bad they are. “I know what you mean. They don’t even eat fruit snacks. What the fuck is up with that?”

I laugh and then wince at the pain it causes. “My dad would be appalled. It’s probably why their stamina is so bad.”

“A lack of vitamin C,” Max jokes before Juan grabs his chain and hauls him up.

A sadness hits me at the mention of my dad. I know this must be killing him. Yelena’s barely pregnant and already the thought of our child one day having to endure this threatens to break something inside me. I’d be losing my mind with worry. At least I’m the one chained here and not Yelena or our child. I couldn’t fucking handle that.

When I hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the pained groans that Max tries to hide, I rest my arms on my knees and my forehead on my arms. I can’t tolerate the sight of my cousin being beaten, not when there’s nothing I can do to stop it and not when I know exactly how much pain he’s in. Instead, I focus on taking shallow breaths and wonder if I’m going to piss blood again tomorrow. Tony’s going to have his hands full when we get back home because I feel like an absolute mess.

Muffled sniffles come from beside me, and when I turn my head, I see the girl watching Max while tears stream down her cheeks.

“Don’t watch,” I whisper to her in Russian. “He wouldn’t want you to see this.”

She rests her head on her arms like I’m doing, feet on the floor and using her knees as a pillow, but now she’s facing me instead of focusing on Max. Every time he lets out a pained grunt, she winces, but she doesn’t look back at him.

“What’s your name?” I ask, trying to keep her focus off Max.

“Natalya, but everyone calls me Talia,” she whispers back to me in perfect Russian.

“I have a cousin named Natalya.”

“That’s what Max said.”

They must’ve been talking while I was getting my ass kicked, so I ask, “What else did Max say?”

“That he’d make sure I got out of here when you did.”

I’m not surprised he promised her he’d help. I saw the way he was looking at her when they dragged her in. It went beyond mere curiosity or the desire to help another person in need. Max rarely notices women. He’s always too lost in his head for it to be anything more than a mere passing appreciation for someone, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone like the way he’d looked at her.

“You’re married?” she asks, looking at my wedding ring.

“Yes,” I whisper while running my finger over the band. “We’ve only been married for a little over a week, but I’ve loved her my whole life. She’s pregnant with our first baby.”

Talia gives me a sad smile. “You’ll make it back to them. We’re all getting out of here. My family is coming for me, and when they get here, I’ll make sure they help you and Max.” The determination in her voice is unwavering. She appreciates what Max offered, but her tone makes it clear she thinks her family is the one who will be doing the rescuing.

“How did you end up here, Talia?”

Before she can answer, the cellar door opens and Mateo walks in. He yells something in Spanish, making Jose freeze in place, stopping his assault on Max before he nods his head and quickly gets my cousin down. Max stumbles as they drag him back over, and when he’s slumped in between Talia and me, he sighs and gives me a lopsided grin. Blood drips from his split lip, and there’s a cut along his right eyebrow that could use a few stitches, but he’s alive, and that’s all that matters.

“You’re not taking the first beating tomorrow, Val, so don’t even fucking try. I got the easier one, and it was cut short. Stop trying to protect me.”

I raise a brow at him.

“I’m serious,” he says. “It’ll be easier for both of us if we trade off. Plus, Yelena will kick my ass if you lose your pretty face because of me.”

“She loves me for more than my looks, Max. You’re just being superficial.”

He huffs out a laugh. “True enough. She loved you before she even knew what you’d turn out as.”

“True enough. Although, I was a pretty cute toddler, so the odds were in my favor.”

He grins and then grimaces when it just makes his lip start bleeding again. “Fuck that hurts.”

“Yeah, Miguel is a real sadist. I haven’t noticed an erection yet, but I think that might just be because his dick is so tiny.”

Max huffs out another laugh while Mateo eyes us and walks closer. The three jackasses are already walking out, and I try not to show how relieved I am that I might not be getting a second beating today. Miguel takes out his phone and takes a couple more photos of us before pocketing it. The suit he’s in is impeccable, but that might just be because he’s in the world’s ugliest room. He could be wearing a paisley monstrosity from the seventies, and it would still look good by comparison.

He stands in front of us, hands clasped behind his back, dark eyes studying us. He ignores Talia, keeping his focus on us instead. Not for the first time, I wonder about the man in front of us, the boss’s son and future heir to the cartel. He’s disciplined, never losing his temper, never losing control, and always with that same dark look in his eyes, like he’s constantly thinking and planning and plotting.

“Your family hasn’t responded to us yet,” he finally says. “My boss is not happy.”

“You mean your dad?” I ask.

His mouth lifts into the smile that’s more of a smirk. “My boss,” he says again, and I’m guessing Mateo’s childhood was nothing like ours. My dad and uncles are violent men, but they’re not monsters, and family has always been everything to them. Wives and children are to be protected and loved. I’d be willing to bet good money that Mateo was beaten more than he was hugged.

“You’re not going to hear from them,” Max tells him. “They’ll never make the deal. It would be the end of our Bratva. They won’t do that, not even for us.”

Mateo runs his eyes over Max’s bloody face. “So they’ll let you both die?”

“Maybe,” Max says, lifting his shoulder in a noncommittal gesture that reveals nothing. We’re not about to warn him that two of the best hackers in the world are working nonstop to find this location. If they move us somewhere else, it might make it even harder to be found. I don’t know if their home is above us, but wherever they live, it’s close enough for them to visit here daily.

“If you give us something, I could make things easier for you.” He gestures towards our faces. “You could see a doctor, maybe get some painkillers. I might even be able to arrange for food and a hot shower.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I say, “but we’d rather bleed out and slowly starve.”

“That’s a hard pass for me, too,” Max says.

“I admire your allegiance to your family, but it will get you nowhere,” Mateo warns. “You’d be better off telling us everything we need to know.”

“We will never betray our family,” I tell him. “Kill us if you have to, but our Bratva will never bow down to your cartel.”

“Our family isn’t really the bowing kind,” Max says with a laugh.

Mateo nods and grabs his phone again. As he walks away, he says, “We’ll see about that.”