Chapter 5 – Rafayel
Where I came from, we were in the business of calling a spade a spade; operate with things as they are, not the way you want them to seem. For years, that tactic worked effectively. That was why, with Enzo’s daughter, I had every intention of applying for the same.
Ivan’s problem was that he underestimated the girl, and that was one mistake I wasn’t going to make.
“You’re done.”
His hand covered the brown envelope I’d slapped on his chest, and confused grey eyes met mine halfway down the stairs. Brows drawn, Ivan raised the package in the air. “What’s this?”
“What do you think it is?”
“Money?”
I lifted a brow. “Then?”
He was questioning the reason for the money, especially when his eagerness to follow me down the rest of the stairs and into the dark space to visit our beloved prisoner was as clear as day.
“Money for what, Rafa?”
I didn’t answer him. I turned back around to continue down the stairs, and when he followed, I paused. “Jesus. Do I have to explain everything to you, kid?”
“Silence is an explanation?” I almost laughed. His response was a very Ivan-like thing to say. “I’ll take that as a no and still ask again anyway. Money for—”
“Your little beef with the girl ends here, Ivan. Right here on this step.” I didn’t let him finish. If he wanted me to spell it out, then I was going to spell it out. “Take the money as whatever you want to take it for: ticket to see the northern lights, one night at a fancy restaurant, spend it on one of your trulls, get a new toy…whatever. You’re out, and I’m taking over.”
When he nodded, I already knew he understood. Ivan wasn’t going to argue with me. Not because he couldn’t but because he knew the money wasn’t the only thing I’d take back from him if he dared counter my orders. The kid’s fear of me surpassed any sliver of respect he thought he had for me.
“Message received.” He didn’t like it, but he was going to leave anyway.
I watched him ascend back up the stairs and didn’t move an inch until his shoulders disappeared from the door frame.
Then I fished the blade from my pocket and went down as quietly as I could.
****
I dragged a hand against the wall, searched, and stopped after I found what I was looking for. I flicked on the switch and soaked myself in the satisfaction of seeing her rattle when her eyes met mine.
Sitting there, she looked small and fragile—nothing like the Viper that plagued my cousin and my mind. She didn’t look like much, like a girl that could outsmart grown combat-trained men or skilled drivers. But that was just it about this one.
She blinked, initially disoriented, and after a moment of struggling with the ropes binding her securely to the iron chair, her eyes grew wide, and her jaw dropped.
First, I saw raw fear swimming in her hazel eyes before she clamped down, shielding herself with the familiar brave facade I recognized.
I stood close enough, blocking the single white light hanging from the ceiling above our heads. She had to tilt her head back for a better view. Her full lips twitched, but her eyes held disdain.
“If it isn’t the devil himself? The almighty Rafayel Yezhov.”
My mouth curved upward, and I couldn’t even pretend that I wasn’t enjoying every second of this moment. Ivan only took the version I’d forced on him but didn’t know that money was a small reward for a job well done. Comical how his pettiness had resulted in a strategic advantage.
My eyes raked down her body, greedily drinking in every detail, from the purple and black patch on the right half of her face, past the nasty cut on the swell of her lips, to her heaving bosom. Even though she looked like she’d gotten the crap beaten out of her, there was no denying the unexplainable thrill that took laps in my chest at the thought of sharing the same breathing space with her again.
“We meet again, Daddy’s princess.”
She flashed a phony smile, evoking pure laughter from me.
Leonora Colombo was unlike any woman I’d ever met. Beautiful wasn’t the word to describe her. Gorgeous seemed profoundly underrated. I wasn’t sure what it was or why I was unable to place a finger on it, but this Italian princess intrigued me.
She’d done so from the first moment I’d set my eyes on her. Two years ago, when she interfered in my brother’s business by helping his wife escape. She was stubborn. Perhaps the first woman I’d seen who refused to cower in Timur’s presence. Her audacity had fascinated me, sparked a bit of interest, and riled me up enough to want to slice her throat and tongue with a knife.
Who knew? Today might just be her lucky day.
She arched her back and shifted her legs forward, slouching against the chair to appear comfortable—more in charge. “Let me guess, this was the plan, wasn’t it? You couldn’t get the job done, so you sent the other one to do it for you? I didn’t think you’d bother.”
“The other one, eh?” No wonder Ivan wanted her piece of meat. “I see you’re as spirited as ever.”
She swished her head to the side, readjusting her hair. It had grown a few inches longer than it was the last time I saw her—more shiny and brown. More feminine.
More pretty.
Those extra details shouldn’t have concerned me. Like the mole on the right corner below her lip or the frequent scrunch between her brows, indicating how much she disapproved of being detained by me. She was a woman and should have been just another woman to me. Another pretty thing with beautiful eyes and something tasty beneath the skirt, or in her case, black leggings.
But this one was clearly different, more feisty, extremely insufferable, and it was inevitable…. I was still calling spades, spades—she intrigued me.
“I heard you won the championship.”
She nibbled on the inside of her cheek and tapped her feet, obviously distracted by more thoughts in her mind than the conversation we were having.
“What a surprise there. I wonder how the news got to you.”
“Go figure, Daddy’s princess. You’re famous now. That means you’re on the news.”
Her laughter was short and empty, and the look in her eyes was glacial when they met mine. “Silly me. For a minute there, I thought your idiot messenger was a big blabbermouth. My apologies, then, and thank you for the hearty congratulations. Need an autograph? I’m done for the day, but I can make an exception for a huge fan.”
“Fuck you and your autograph, sweetheart,” I clarified.
Like a loosely worn cloth over a bleak painting, the facade slipped off, and she surprised me by appearing more tired than apprehensive.
“Then what? What, Rafayel Yezhov? Why the fuck am I here? What do you plan on doing to me if you didn’t, I don’t know, drag me in to shower praises on me like a doting fan?”
Finally, she was slowly bringing out the Leo I wanted to see—the tough one with a sharp mouth who dealt with no-nonsense. The one that rammed insults at Ivan hard enough to shatter his walls of nonchalance and spark the Yezhov blood running through his veins. The same peevish, ill-tempered bitch that broke her father from his cell and eternally planted herself in my memory when she smiled up at the CCTV cam.
I dropped to my haunches and grabbed her chin roughly enough to leave some pink imprints for temporary remembrance.
My speed scared her, rendered her stiff and cautious in my grasp.
“Me? You should know, I didn’t do anything. Turns out, fate is on my side. You stepped on my cousin’s toes—well, more like stabbed his pride in the fucking chest with your razor-sharp mouth, and he didn’t like it. At all.”
Her brows dipped, and she eyed the glinting silver knife in my other hand. “So, you’re saying Ivan grew the balls to kidnap me without your help?”
“Exactly what I’m saying. He wanted to teach you one or two brutal lessons when he dragged you in. On a normal day, I wouldn’t care about how he’d like to play with you, but this time, the odds rolled in my favor. I’ll be kind enough not to hurt you, though.”
She didn’t look like she believed me, and I didn’t want to believe me, either. But I did. I knew, if she behaved and I got what I wanted out of this arrangement, I’d keep to my word and spare her.
Softly, I ran my thumb across her jaw and stuck the tip of the blade under her chin.
She gasped, and her head jerked backward. I thought I heard her hold her breath.
Her skin was soft—bruised but soft—and I allowed my fingers to move with a mind of their own to run a little longer, up the curve of her throat, and brush past her lips. She winced but didn’t move.
I eyed her mouth, fighting the irrational desire to feel them against my finger again. Instead, I fixed my digits at the back of her neck and let them thread lightly into her hair.
Did I say anything about being a man of reasonable integrity? If yes, then honesty was also in the mix.
I edged closer, close enough to watch the flecks in her eyes grow wider and darker, when I whispered in Russian , “You are beautiful, Leonya.”
Her shock surprised me because it meant she understood me. I didn’t know how much Russian she knew, but I was convinced she heard my compliment.
She probably didn’t know I’d quickly figured it out, and I wasn’t willing to blow her cover. For now.
I needed a distraction for both our sakes, and I remembered I had my fingers in her hair. When I leaned forward, her eyes dropped to my mouth.
Our breaths lingered in the same space, and my mouth burned from the intensity of her stare. Until the loud shink of silver slicing through something caught her attention.
I retracted and rose to my feet like I’d been burned, and her attention diverted to the full strands of brown hair in my hand. Anger flashed over her face when she realized what I’d done, and she gnashed her teeth.
“What the—”
I didn’t allow her to finish. I shut down the rest of her words with a victorious, lopsided grin. Enzo was going to get it as proof that we had his daughter. Colombo was one of the most cold-blooded bastards on the planet, but every single one in the Bratva, and other syndicates, from the Irish to the fucking Armenians, knew he had a soft spot reserved for his blood.
She and her fucking brother were his Achilles heel. And now, it was her in exchange for Jabril.
If he didn’t surrender, we both knew what would happen.
“Now, it definitely smells like rats and weasels in here.”
I looked around. “Rats and weasels? Funny, I thought I sent one of my men down here to clean up the place. You know, make it nice and cozy for you, our special guest.”
“Really? No one’s been down here.”
“Ah….” I tapped my chin, folded one arm across my chest, and shook my head. “Must have been another mistaken order for another room. I’ll send someone down here to take care of you as soon as I’m able to send your father this gift.”
Something cold and hard fleeted past her eyes, and she tilted back so I could catch the slant curve of her lips. “I should have known that’s what was in it for you.”
What the hell was she blabbing about?
The smile on her face baited me, reeling me in to dive in and discover what dirty little secret she wanted me to uncover.
I should have legged it to the door and walked away without prying to save myself the trouble of dealing with the bitter princess.
But I’d touched her, gotten close enough to catch the peculiar swirl of green mixed in the depth of hazel, and knew what texture her lips were beneath my fingers. I’d broken my unspoken and unwritten rules to keep my distance from the tempting Italian belle.
Surely, taking a dive to uncover a dirty secret was nothing.
“What the fuck are you on about?”
Her smile brightened somewhat with more darkness, and the spark in her eyes had a wicked glint. “J.E. Papa stole him from you, did he not?”
The humor was gone, and a scowl settled on my lips while I waited for her to confirm the nagging thought inside my head. I flicked the blade and slid it into its sheath.
“And you know this because?”
“Because…” the girl recreated her two-year-old CCTV smile, and I knew what hung on the tip of that tongue of hers before she concluded it, “it was my idea.”