Unholy Tsar: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Dynasty Book 4)

Chapter 4

My eyes snap open, and for a moment, I’m disoriented. I blink at the ceiling, trying to remember where I am. A soft tap on the door startles me, and I jolt up on the bed, glancing at the bedroom door.

“Cece? Are you up? We need to start getting ready for our lesson with Uncle Maks,” Bree’s voice filters through the door, and just like that, everything comes rushing back to me.

Right. I’m in New York. In Bree’s fancy penthouse.

“I’m up!” I call back, then pause to clear the phlegm from my throat because my voice came out croaky. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Alright.” Bree’s footsteps recede from the doorway, and I slump back into the bed with a sigh. I squint at the ceiling, trying to grasp onto the remnants of the dream I just had, but it’s elusive. Oh well. At least it wasn’t a nightmare. If it were, I’d have woken up kicking and screaming.

Pushing myself off the bed, I pad to the ensuite bathroom to freshen up. After a quick wash and brush, I opt for comfort, slipping into a pair of well-worn black jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. With my hair hastily thrown into a messy bun, I’m good to go. Finally, I shove my sock-clad feet into my tattered Converse and leave my bedroom.

Bree is already in the dining room eating takeout. “Yours is over there.” She nods toward a plastic container on the table. We’re both useless in the kitchen, so we’ve been surviving on takeout and cereal.

“Thank you,” I mumble, sinking into the chair before digging into my meal. Hmm. Delicious. It’s not until I’m halfway through that Bree’s words come back to bite my ass. “Wait, did you say we have to get ready for a lesson with your uncle?”

She sighs dramatically. “I know, right? Two days in a row? I get that my cousin almost got herself killed last year, but that was because she ran away from home. I have no intention of doing that, so why do I have to go through this torture?”

I chuckle, shaking my head at her. “You have to go through the torture because, whether you run away or not, the Kilpatrick name is enough to get you kidnapped by anyone ambitious or hungry enough for power. You’re a valuable asset.”

Bree levels a glare at me, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Did you just call me an asset, Cecilia Rose Bianchi?”

“Shh!” I warn, glancing around the room to make sure we’re alone. We are, but even so, there could be hidden cameras in here or something. “You can’t call me that,” I remind her. Last year, in a moment of weakness, I broke and told Bree my real name. I trust the girl with my life, but damn, she’s never really alone. And we can’t afford to have anyone know my full name. If someone gets a hold of it, everything would come tumbling down.

Bree winces. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” But it’s not okay. Do the cameras here record? Fuck, I hope not. I haven’t spotted any yet, but I know they’re here. That’s likely the only reason we can be alone in the apartment. Her security detail must be monitoring us twenty-four-seven.

“Are you done with your food? We need to leave now if we’re going to make it on time,” Bree says, getting up and carrying her empty container to the trash can.

Oh, right. “I’m not coming with you.”

She pauses, “What? What do you mean? We agreed that we’d take the lessons together.”

And I wanted to. Not just because Bree’s security would be around keeping us safe, but also because I need those lessons to teach me how to protect myself. But fuck, I can’t go. How can I when the teacher is Maksim?

“Yes, I know. But something came up that I have to take care of today,” I lie, picking up my glass of water. My throat suddenly feels dry under her scrutiny.

Bree narrows her eyes. “Did something really come up, or are you trying to avoid my uncle?”

The water goes down the wrong pipe, and the room swims around me as I choke. “Ugh.” I hear Bree say as she rushes over and hits my back, but it only makes my coughing fit worse.

“N–no. D–don’t,” I gasp, staring up at her through watering eyes. She sighs and backs away. Slowly, the coughing subsides, and I’m able to breathe again. When my vision clears, Bree is watching me with her arms folded.

Sometimes, I forget just how smart she is. She pretends not to see, but those eagle eyes don’t miss a thing.

“Okay, fine, nothing came up. I’m just feeling a little sick. I didn’t want to tell you and make you worry,” I lie again. Dr. Cecilia, LLR.

She seems to buy that, because her arms drop and she moves closer to check on me, brows furrowed in concern. “I noticed you woke up a little later than usual today. Is it from the headache you had yesterday?”

I nod mutely, too guilt-ridden to think of another lie. Bree places her palm against my forehead. “You feel a little sweaty.”

Because I’m lying my ass off, Bree.

“You know what? Stay. I’ll go on my own. I’ll try to make it as quick as possible so you won’t be alone for long.”

“You don’t have to rush on my account,” I manage, but she brushes off my words, picking up my now-empty container and tossing it in the trash.

“I’ll order lunch so you don’t have to worry about anything. Take a warm bath and go back to bed,” she instructs. I get up slowly, milking the fake sickness. I even sway a little, and Bree has to grab my arm to steady me. She helps me back to my room, and I let her tuck me into bed.

“I’ll be quick,” she promises as she leaves my room.

When I’m alone, I heave a sigh and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. The lies just keep piling up, and I feel like shit for taking advantage of Bree’s kindness. But fuck, I have to do what I have to do to survive.

I’ll wait for thirty minutes to make sure Bree’s gone before I dare to get out of bed.

Turning over on my side, I quietly wish that my bedroom window at least had a nice view. Then, all of a sudden, the door swings open, and I sit up in surprise.

Is Bree back already? No, it’s barely been ten minutes since she left.

Yet there she is, and behind her is Vincent, her head of security. He has a forbidding scowl on his face. I gulp, turning my attention to my friend. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently, I can’t go unless you go too. I didn’t realize we had become a package deal.” She adds a snippy note in her voice as she shoots an annoyed glare at Vincent.

“What?” I ask, totally lost.

“You have to join us,” Bree repeats. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t have to sit in for the lesson.”

I steal a glance at Vincent, who is still giving me a hard stare. Does he know I’m faking being sick? Shit. I drag myself out of bed, trying to play it off. “That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll feel better by the time we get there.”

Bree gives me a sympathetic smile, and we leave her apartment. The car ride is quiet and tense, with Vincent tossing me a glare here and there. Bree seems oblivious, though, and I don’t call her attention to it. Instead, I close my eyes and rest my head against the cool tinted window, trying to escape the tension for just a moment.

“We’re almost there.” Bree gently squeezes my hand, probably thinking I’m tired because of the long drive. “I still don’t understand why we have to force a sick person to come all the way out here.” She directs that last comment at Vincent.

I open my eyes to see him give her a curt nod. “I’m afraid that Mr. Smolov insisted she join us.”

“Uncle Maksim? But why?” Bree bites her bottom lip as she glances at me worriedly. I close my eyes again so she can’t see the concern in them.

Fuck, what does Maksim want now? I shiver, remembering my encounter with him last night. He already knows I’m not the daughter of a don. Did he find out more? Is that why he wants to see me? My thoughts spiral to darker places. Does he have something nefarious planned? Like, say a torture session?

I shiver again, my unease creeping into every muscle as I recall all those rumors about just how ruthless he is. He wouldn’t really torture me… would he?

“Can you turn on the heat?” Bree’s request startles me, and I reopen my eyes. “Miss Lombardi is cold.”

What? Oh, she must have mistaken my shivers for being cold.

“No, it’s fine,” I protest weakly.

“No, it’s not fine,” she insists, her eyes fixed on Vincent until he complies. “I’m sure if Maksim knew you were sick, he wouldn’t have asked you to be here.”

I don’t bother to say anything. Instead, I stew in my worry until we pull up into the driveway of Bree’s parents” beautiful mansion. My heart sinks, and my belly churns with nerves at what awaits me inside.

“What could have suddenly caused this sickness?” Bree questions as we get out of the car. “Could you be feeling homesick? Missing California that badly?”

“No, screw California. I have nothing but bad memories and nightmares from there.” I blurt out without thinking. My hand automatically goes to my bare ring finger, and a chill runs through me. I just want to forget that time in my life ever happened.

Bree gives me a weird look, and I realize I lied to her yesterday about how I was thinking of California. Damn it. This is what happens when you lie so much; you forget to keep track of those lies.

When we get to the library, Maksim is already waiting for us—and he’s looking frustratingly hot in another slick custom-fitted suit.

Goddamn.

I used to scoff at the Idea of younger girls swooning over older men, but oh, do I get it now. He brings the term “silver fox” to life with a short, well-trimmed beard and a head full of gorgeous silver and black hair.

My fingers curl as I remember running my hands through his silky hair.

It doesn’t help that he has the face of a Greek god, too: sharp jawline, full lips, cheekbones even I’m jealous of. And those eyes… they seal the deal for me—a rich honey brown filled with a carnal knowledge I’d do anything for.

“You’re late.” Maksim’s sharp voice snaps me out of my musings.

What the fuck am I doing right now? Lusting after the very man who could end me?

I shoot him a glare. “Because I’m sick, and someone insisted I be here despite that,” I growl. His brows rise sharply.

Game on.