Chapter 18 - Sofia #2
My stomach growls, loud and undeniable, breaking the spell.
He laughs. Actually laughs. "When did you last eat?"
"I don't remember."
"That's unacceptable." He kisses my temple, the gesture so tender it makes my eyes burn. "There's a kitchen down the hall. For this wing. I'll make something."
"You cook?"
"Mikhail and I used to cook together at the lakehouse when our father…" He stops, jaw tightening. "When we wanted to get away from everything. I'll grab something from the kitchen. Twenty minutes."
He kisses me quick and leaves. The door clicks behind him, but I notice no sound of the lock engaging. He's left it unlocked.
A test? Or trust?
I shouldn't. Should wait for him to return. But I need to use the bathroom, and ours is blocked, waiting for someone to come fix it. There's another bathroom just down the hall. I've seen it on my nighttime excursions. Surely thirty seconds won't matter.
I slip into the corridor. Empty, quiet, the faint smell of clove oil and cigarette smoke that permeates this place. The hallway is cooler than Alexei's room, raising goosebumps on my bare arms. I move quickly toward the bathroom I remember.
"The Rosetti whore. Wandering alone."
My blood turns to ice, every muscle locking. I turn slowly, assessing the distance between us, the angle of his approach, the fact that I'm fucking unarmed.
I reach for my knife out of habit, then remember. I left it under the mattress. Too comfortable. Too fucking careless. The kind of mistake that gets you killed in my world.
Kaz leans against the wall like he's been waiting. Like he knew I'd come out eventually once Alexei left me alone and unlocked. His eyes are cold, calculating, nothing like Alexei's winter storms. Where Alexei burns cold, Kaz is just empty.
"Kazimir."
"You remember my name. I'm flattered." He pushes off the wall, approaches slowly. The hallway suddenly feels smaller, the walls pressing in. "My cousin went to the kitchen. Left you alone and unlocked. How careless of him."
"He'll be back in a minute."
"A minute is a long time. Long enough to snap a pretty neck. Long enough to end this embarrassment that's infected our family."
I don't back away, won't give him the satisfaction. But I silently curse myself for not bringing my blade, for feeling safe enough to be careless. My body doesn't respond to his proximity the way it does to Alexei. There's no heat, no pull. Just the cold calculation of threat assessment.
He's close now, too close. His cologne is sharp, chemical, assaulting my senses. Nothing like Alexei's warmth.
"You won't touch me."
"No?" His hand comes up, traces along my jaw with mock tenderness. My skin crawls at the contact, so different from when Alexei touches me. "The men are taking bets, you know. How long before Alexei comes to his senses. How long before you have an accident."
I force myself not to flinch. "For every drop of my blood you spill, my brothers will spill a thousand of yours. Have you met Luca? He's going to adore meeting you. He has a real way with words." I heave out a bored sigh. "In any case, if you were going to kill me, you'd have done it already."
"Maybe I'm savoring the anticipation." His fingers tighten slightly on my jaw, and nausea rises in my throat. "You're pretty. I'll give him that. But not pretty enough to die for."
I force a bored smile onto my face. "And you're not dangerous enough to be worth fearing. Guess we're both disappointed."
"You think he loves you?" Kaz's voice drops, soft and poisonous. "Volkov men don't love. We possess. We destroy. It's in our blood."
"I'm not looking for love, Volkov. Besides, you don't know him."
"I know him better than you ever will. I grew up with him. With Mikhail." The name lands like a blade between my ribs. "Until he died. Bled out, drowning in his own blood."
My stomach turns, bile rising in my throat. My hands start to shake, the physical manifestation of emotional destruction.
"Eighteen years old, chest carved open by your psycho brother's blade, trying to breathe through the blood filling his lungs." Kaz leans closer, his breath hot and sour on my face.
The image burns into my mind. Mikhail, the boy who wrote about me with such tenderness, dying afraid and confused.
Each detail is a fresh wound, visceral and specific.
"I know all about your family's weaknesses," Kaz continues, showing he's done his research. "The way you Rosettis cling to each other like drowning rats. How do you think your precious Marco will feel when he learns you're spreading your legs for a Volkov?"
"Enough." The word tears from my throat.
"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" He grips my chin harder, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You're temporary. A distraction. When Alexei remembers who he is, what he owes his family, what he owes Mikhail's memory, you'll be nothing but a cum stain he washes off his sheets."
Footsteps echo from the direction of the kitchen. Quick, purposeful. The sound makes my pussy clench involuntarily. My body recognizing Alexei even in my distress.
Kaz releases me, straightening his cuffs with casual precision. The menace smooths into pleasant neutrality as Alexei rounds the corner.
The temperature drops ten degrees. Alexei's entire body goes predator-still, and suddenly I understand the difference. Kaz threatens with words, but Alexei is violence incarnate.
"Cousin," Kaz says, voice light.
"Kazimir." Alexei's tone could freeze blood.
They exchange a look I can't read. Something passing between them in the language of family and old wounds. The air crackles with potential violence, and heat pools in my belly at Alexei's protective rage.
Then Kaz walks away, whistling softly. The casual dismissal is almost worse than threats.
Alexei reaches me in three strides. His hands cup my face, searching for damage, his touch immediately calming my shaking.
"What did he say to you?"
"Nothing important."
"Sofia."
I don't answer. Some battles are mine to fight. But my body betrays me, trembling against him, seeking the safety that only exists in his arms now.
He studies me for a long moment, thumb stroking my cheek. Something shifts in his expression. A decision being made. The kind that changes everything.
"Get dressed," he says. "Proper clothes."
"Why?"
"I think it's time you saw your family."
I stare at him, certain I've misheard. "What?"
"You need to remember who you are. Where you come from." His thumb traces my bottom lip, the gesture achingly gentle even as his eyes burn with something darker. "Go home, Sofia. See your brothers. Have dinner at your family table. Tell them you sneaked out."
"You're letting me go?"
"I'm letting you visit. There's a difference." Something flickers in his eyes. Absolute certainty. The confidence of a man who knows he's already won. "You'll come back."
I blink slowly, thinking it over. "Will I?"
He doesn't answer immediately. Just looks at me with those pale eyes that have seen every broken piece of me and somehow want me anyway.
The terrifying thing is, he's right. I will come back.
Because the sacred promise I made to Nico nine years ago is already shattered beyond repair. I've lied to him twice, chosen my enemy over truth, betrayed the one pact that mattered more than blood. The damage is done.
What's one more betrayal?
I think about sitting across from Nico at dinner, looking into those hazel eyes that know me better than anyone, and lying to his face. Telling him everything's fine. That Alexei hasn't hurt me. That I haven't fallen completely, irrevocably for the man whose family destroyed us.
My family will see their sister, their princess, returned from captivity.
They'll check for bruises, for signs of torture.
They won't see the real damage. How I've carved out pieces of myself and handed them to Alexei willingly.
How I deleted information that could save their men's lives because I couldn't bear to betray him.
How my pussy gets wet just from his voice, how my body craves his violence as much as his tenderness.
"When?" I ask, voice barely a whisper.
"Tonight. After you get cleaned up." His jaw tightens. "My driver will take you and drop you around the corner. You'll have dinner with your family. Then you'll come back to me."
Not a question. A statement of fact.
"They'll ask questions," I say. "About you. About what you've done to me."
"Tell them whatever keeps you safe." He pulls me closer, forehead resting against mine. "Tell them I'm a monster. Tell them you're gathering intelligence. Tell them anything except the truth."
"Which is?"
His lips brush mine, barely a touch that still makes my whole body light up. "That you came willingly, sneaked under my defences, played the captive. But now…now you truly are my prisoner."
He's right. God help me, he's right about all of it.
I kiss him then, pouring everything I can't say into the contact. My tongue claiming his mouth the way he's claimed my body. The boy who trained me to be strong would be devastated to see me now. The promise we made, only truth between us, lies in pieces at my feet.
But I'll go home tonight. I'll sit at my family's table and lie with every breath. I'll let them think they're getting their sister back and maybe, just maybe, I'll find the strength to stay with them instead of crawling back on my knees to my enemy.