Chapter 11
ROSA
The sickening smell of my great uncle’s cologne fills my nostrils as I wake up moaning. My face and jaw ache. My hand instinctively moves to my belly, but I remember in time to stop myself. I can’t let them know. How long have we been driving away from Rory’s?
“You’re awake. Good.”
“How long have I been asleep? Where are you taking me?”
He leers from the front passenger seat. “I chloroformed you once we took you. I’m doing what your father was too weak to do.”
I stare at the man who’s going to sell me. He told my father hundreds of times to do it. He wanted my father to sell my mother, too, but her family knows powerful people in Texas, and she hid behind them.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to the airport. You’ve been fucking the Russian, so I know you’re not a virgin, but you’re a model and beautiful, so we found a sheikh who wants you.”
I push myself up into a seated position, just in time to notice the under-water tunnel Rory and I went through when we got here. We’re heading to New Jersey.
The cartel soldier driving the SUV clicks his tongue as he looks at my face. “Damn, that’s a bruise. The sheikh will see that at the airport and know she’s been broken in.”
He and Arturo laugh like hyenas.
Okay, so I’m going there instead of some man coming here. Does that increase or decrease my chance at getting away?
“Have you figured it all out yet?”
“What?”
“The Russian was playing you. He brought you back to me.”
My mind races through the time we spent together looking for opportunities for Rory to have contacted my family. Fear, desperation, and sadness war in my heart and head. How do I get out of this?
“You might as well accept your fate. Be a little slut, and maybe he’ll keep you. You’re pretty enough.”
The driver speaks to Arturo. “We’re going to be at Morristown Airport in ten minutes.”
“Excellent.”
Adrenaline spikes in my body as my mind races for how to get out of the car. If I get on that plane, I can’t get off until we land. “Is it a straight flight or will we stop for fuel?”
Arturo’s brow lifts. “Glad you’re accepting this. It will make it easier.” He smirks like a monkey in a zoo that’s just picked up a piece of fruit. “We’ll stop at Heathrow in London and refuel. It’s a long trip, nearly fifteen hours, so you’ll want to rest.”
Can I get away when we stop in London? “I don’t have my passport.”
“You don’t need it. You won’t leave the plane.”
The driver brings the SUV to a stop next to the private airport parking. There’s three other cartel vehicles waiting for us. He gets out of his door and walks to the back driver’s door and pulls it open. “Get out.”
Arturo chuckles as he walks to the back of the SUV when one of his other soldiers is holding his luggage. “Don’t hit her face.”
I extend my legs out of the back seat as the driver grabs and jerks my arm. “Hey.”
His hand swings and catches me in the side of the head. Stars fill my sight as I stumble to stand.
“Damn it.” My uncle growls. “Not her face.”
“Sorry, Jefe.”
‘Jefe.’ Arturo gets a kick out of everyone calling him boss. He’d be upset if he knew men use the term ‘boss’ with everyone, like bud or bro. Assholes. I raise my head as six large, black SUVs speed into the airport. Arturo grabs me and propels me into the closest hangar. “You should stay close. Our enemies have found us.”
“Who found you?”
He pushes me through a door into an office and takes out his phone. He barks orders in Spanish as I move to the window to peer out. Rory’s family has arrived. “Why are the Bravikovs here?”
He flips his hand to me like you’d do to a buzzing fly. The window shows me more than a dozen men surrounding the hangar. Arturo’s phone rings.
“Hello? No. Because she belongs to me. Married. You’re telling me your son married this slut?” He lowers the phone and asks. “Are you married?”
“Yes.” Make it convincing. If Rory is saying we’re married. Go with it. “He married me.”
“Fuck.” He puts his phone back to his mouth. “I’ve already sold her.” He walks around me to glance outside. “Tell your men to stand down.”
Cartel soldiers take positions to hold off Rory’s group. Movement catches my eye. Rory and two other men come around the corner of the hangar. Rory’s hand flashes a blade that slices through the soldier’s throat. Blood squirts and hits the wall. The man crumples to the ground. Methodically the three men cut through the dozen cartel soldiers to come around the other part of the building, closest to the door.
“Call off your men, Mikhail.”
Who’s Mikhail? Is he the pakhan? My father talked about a ruthless pakhan. Could that be Rory’s father? More questions than answers swirl around my mind. Why is Rory here?
Someone throws open the door, as the driver of Arturo’s SUV flies in to grab me, placing a gun to my head. Rory enters the office with two men that look very similar. “Let her go and I’ll let you live.”
“Ha. So, you’re the assassin?”
Why does everyone keep calling him that?
Rory winks at me. “I’ll kill you and your boss if you don’t drop the gun and let her go. I don’t want you or him.” His eyes flick to Arturo. “She’s my wife, and you aren’t taking her.”
Arturo purses his lips. “Pay me ten million for her.”
“I’m not paying you anything. She’s mine.” He barrels at me and the man holding me as another man grabs Arturo. The blade presses against my neck as liquid runs down, wetting my shirt. Rory’s hand knocks away the knife as his other hand moves quickly across the driver’s throat. Warm liquid covers my head and back.
“Roric. Fuck man. She’s covered in blood.” One of the other men announces with disgust.
Rory grabs me from the floor and carries me out of the office. The kind doctor approaches as I realize Rory is yelling with panic in his voice. “Help her.”
“Set her on the table. Is this her blood?”
“Some of it. The guy cut her neck.”
Cloths scrape at my neck as the old doctor peruses me. “It’s not a deep cut. She needs to get this other blood off her, though.” His head pivots to the other man that came in with Rory. “Find her clothes.” The man runs off to the SUVs.
“Oh God, Rosa. Are you okay?” Roric takes my hand and grits his teeth.
Reality snacks me upside the head, making my face and head hurt again. “No. You lied. From the very beginning, you planned to give me to the men who wanted to kill me. Leave me alone.”
A man who looks like Rory, just grayer, walks up to me. “Are you okay?”
“No. Do I look like I’m okay?”
“I apologize. I’m your new father.”
“You’re his father?” I point to Rory.
“Yes. And you are now my daughter, and the child you carry is my new grandchild.”
“I’m not staying here. You and your family gave me to my family so they could kill me or sell me to the highest bidder. Which they did. My child and I are leaving.”
His head nods. “Well, right now, you’re going with the doctor so he can check you. We’ll discuss the future after you’ve had a little time to calm down.”
The doctor, or dentist, as he was called, pats my arm. He’s holding a stack of clothes. “Let’s find you something clean to wear.” He leads me through another door into an office.
Nodding, I see the door to the private bathroom as Roric moves to follow. The doctor clears his throat and stares at Rory until he stops his feet. The man shakes his head. “No.” The doctor moves ahead and holds open the door.
Stepping into the bathroom, my eyes catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like Carrie from the movie. Blood covers my neck, shirt, hair, back, and down my pants to my white shoes that now look like a Jackson Pollack painting. “Wow, that’s a lot of blood.”
The doctor pushes open a door at the back of the restroom. “Here’s a shower.”
Debate rages in my brain and the side for cleanliness wins. I take the clothes from his hand and enter the shower room. It looks like a standard hotel shower. Must be for the flight crews. There are containers of shampoo, body wash, and conditioner on the wall. Stripping off the bloody clothes, I step under the warm water. Please, just wash off this horrible day.
Ten minutes later, I step out into the shower room in a large beige towel. Dr. Kovalev leans against the counter with his stethoscope around his neck. “How are you feeling?”
His question gives me pause. Physically, I feel okay. Emotionally, I feel like I’ve been on a four-hour roller-coaster ride, which ended with a ton of bricks landing on me. Fatigue fills my body and my soul. “I need to eat and sleep.” My head jerks to the door.
“No one is going to walk in.” He removes the stethoscope from his neck. “May I listen to your heart?”
“Sure. It’s broken.”
He nods as he approaches. “I can only imagine. Tell me what happened after you left with your uncles?”
“Arturo hit me in the face and I passed out. I woke up in the back of an SUV. He said something about chloroform. I don’t think anyone touched me, beyond putting me in the back, but they aren’t honorable, so who knows?”
“I’m sorry.” The sadness on the man’s face makes me feel worse. “I’d like to schedule you in to see an OB.”
“Okay.”
The door handle jiggles, and Dr. Kovalev storms to the door we walked through, growling in Russian. He jerks open the door and barks a few words, turns, and walks back to me. “Sorry about that. Roric is impatient.”
“Fuck.” I grit my teeth and hold my eyes closed. “What happens now?”
He blows out his breath. “You’re not going to like the next part of this adventure. But it will keep you and your child safe from your family.”
“But what’s going to keep me safe from Roric and his?”
He pats my arm and leads me to the door. “Roric loves you.”
I wrench my arm out of his hand to stand akimbo with a salty look on my face. “No. He doesn’t.”
“He does.” His voice is soft full of concern and regret. He opens the door to a pacing Roric and men that look just like him. “Get dressed.” He pushes the door closed.
Roric reaches for the knob as the doctor moves his hand, barking in Russian.
I lean against the door and put on my new clothes. Stepping out, Roric rushes toward me.
“Thank fuck.” He moves toward me as I throw my palm up to stop him.
“No. You don’t get to bother me.”
“I’m sorry, Rosa. I should have handled all of this better, but this is where we are, and I suggest you get on board.”
“Get on board! Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Heads snap around the area. “Rosa.”
“Don’t alpha me with your tone. You’re a liar. I’ll never trust you again.”
An older version of Roric strolls up. He oozes power. I’ll bet there isn’t anyone who tells this man ‘no.’
“Welcome to the family.”
“What?” Anger and frustration crash into my mind, resting on my shoulders as I process his words.
“You’re married to my son. Your child is my grandchild. You’re part of our family.”
The glare from Roric keeps my mouth shut. Married. He told them he married me. I’m not marrying him, but if his family needs to think that, then so be it. I nod at the man, turning my head to Roric. His hand stretches out to wrap around my arm. “We need to talk.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
We walk outside the hangar, maneuvering around the bodies and blood. He holds open the rear passenger door so I can climb inside, refusing his outstretched hand. He gets in behind me as the driver puts the car in gear to drive us away from the airport.
We drive onto the expressway. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Roric asks. “What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t care.”
“Sure, you do. Just eat before we meet the judge to get married.”
“Why the fuck would I marry you? I hate you.”
“You don’t. You’re angry and hurt. I’ll explain everything, but we need you to be my wife. No one can touch you if you’re in my family.”
“I need a phone.”
That surprises him. His brow lifts while his jaw hangs open. “Why?”
“I want to call my family in Texas. I realized when I was being trafficked that my family has connections. Pure stupidity to not go to them in the first place.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I forgot my grandparents know powerful people. I don’t need you or your family.”
“We can go see your family after we get married.”
My hand whips out and across his handsome face. “Fuck you. I’m not marrying you. My baby and I are leaving.” I turn as he extends his arm to grab me around the waist. “Stop!”
“Fuck you.”
He pulls me across his lap and pops my ass with his hand. “Stop!”
The vehicle moves into the tunnel as I skitter off his lap, moving against the window. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
He throws his hands up in surrender and faces me. “Marry me in name only. I’ll agree to anything you want, but you’ll have my name and my protection.”
I stifle a hysterical laugh as the driver stares through the rearview. “Your protection. Fuck you. You gave me to them. You lured me in with all your swagger and lies just to hand me over to them so they could sell me to some other rich dude.” My eyes focus on his with a glare like my mother when she’s pissed. “I assume you’re rich.”
“Well, uh. That’s beside the point.”
“Is it though? You just assume that everything you do is great. My feelings meant nothing. My welfare and the health of my baby mean nothing. You’re an entitled prick, and I’ll never trust you again.” My arms tighten as I cross them across my chest. “Give me a phone, and I’ll call my grandparents. They’ll get me to Dallas.”
“No!” His hand scrapes across his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know my father arranged for your uncles to get you. I never would have allowed that. I told my father we were married hours ago. I want to marry you. You’re mine.”
“Well, if this is how you treat things that are yours, it’s obvious why you’re alone.”
The driver scoffs in the front seat as Roric growls. “Fuck you, Saxon.” He motions to the man snickering in the front. “That’s my youngest brother. I’m going to kill him when we stop.”
“Maybe he’ll kill you, and my troubles will all be over.”
Roric scowls. “Fine. Marry me, and I’ll take you to Dallas myself.”
“Ugh. I’m not marrying you.”
The SUV slams to a stop and two men rush to each side of our vehicle. Roric rolls down his window. “What’s going on?”
“The cartel is at the estate. They want to see her.” His finger points at me, and my anxiety peaks. “Marco is demanding to speak to her. He doesn’t believe you’re married. He says she belongs to the family.”
Roric’s head swings to me with a shit-eating grin. “Told you.”
“Fine. On paper only. It means nothing to me.” I readjust myself on the seat and stare out the window watching the happy people interacting in the cars around us as his brother puts the SUV in gear.
Lost in thought and starving, Roric opens my door. I don’t recognize the underground garage. A set of four black SUVs, three motorcycles, and a half dozen sport cars line up along the wall. Roric’s hand points across me. “That’s my Vette. We’ll take it out when we get back from Dallas.”
The elevator plays music like an expensive hotel. When it opens, a man surveils us as we walk out. He nods to Roric. “Mr. Bravikov.”
Roric offers an almost imperceptible head bob as he unlocks the door with a code. He steps in and motions for me to walk past. “The judge will be here in the morning. There are new clothes and the things you like in the first bedroom to the right. I’ll order your favorites.” I gawk at him. He’s so calm. I open my mouth to argue as he kisses my forehead. “We can fight after you’ve eaten.”
I trudge through the open floor plan, stopping to notice the abstract painting in the living room. It’s large brushstrokes of primary colors with a woman’s image centered within the colors. It’s striking. I gasp as he walks up behind me.
“My mother.”
“She’s stunning.”
“Yeah. You remind me of her.”
My head whips around. “Do you really think this charm is going to change anything?”
“Nope. I regret lying to you, but I didn’t know you.”
“You certainly knew me while we were running. I’m exactly who I seem to be. You on the other hand, I don’t know.” I turn to face him. “And I don’t want to.” I pivot on my heel, moving quickly down the hall.
RORIC
“Fuck!” The door closes with a bit more slam than I hoped for. Stupid, stupid. What did my mother say? Stupid is as stupid does. She’ll never forgive me, and how do I blame her? Her image with my child in her arms haunts my brain. I never expected to find someone. My mother told us all we’d find the woman of our hearts. Thane and Cynric did, and I just thought I was too evil with too many souls on my register.
My cell rings. “Hello?”
“It’s Isabella. I want to meet her.”
“No. She hates me. Let us just get together on Sunday like we planned. You’ll get to meet both of the new women of the family in one night.”
A baby fusses in the background. “How is my nephew?”
“Hungry. Cynric said she’s pregnant.”
“Yeah. She needs an appointment with an OB. Got any pull to get us in tomorrow?”
“I’ll make a call and let you know what time. Make sure she has a dress, flowers, and a friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes. Fingers said her friend from Phoenix is in New York. Bring her to the wedding. If we can’t come, at least give her someone she cares about.”
“I’ll text him.”
“Good boy. Be easy, Roric, or I’ll help your girl poison you.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Yep. Mothers have to stick together.” She hangs up, and my ears detect the sounds of a shower. Food. Order food.
Twenty minutes later, she strolls out in a velour pantsuit. I double take because she looks like a supermodel in high end clothing.
ROSA
“I’m hungry.”
“I got all your favorites.” He swings his hand across a large wood dining table. “I’ll serve you.”
I’ve rolled my eyes so much today, they feel tired. Hell, I’m exhausted. “Got milk?”
“Wasn’t that an ad for dairy products?”
“Seriously. Talk less.”
He nods as he walks to the gourmet kitchen. It’s my first chance to take in the opulence of the apartment. He has a navy-blue leather sectional with the biggest television I’ve ever seen overlooking the room. He closes the refrigerator as I turn to catch his eyes. “Why do you have such an incredible kitchen? Got a maid?”
“No. I have a cleaning service. I like to cook when I have a chance.”
Snorting in disbelief, I sit down at the table. He’s set out two plates and serving spoons. The aroma of the Italian food is scrumptious. Lasagna, manicotti, chicken Parmesan, and Italian wedding soup catch my eye.
Roric hands me a bowl. “I saw you looking at the soup. Here’s a ladle.”
The fragrant broth sloshes into the deep navy bowl. His dishes match the sofa. Ah. He had a designer. The first bite of lasagna explodes on my tongue. “Thanks.” His beaming smile pings my heart. “Is there somewhere I can eat that I don’t have to see you?”
Shock pops on his face. “Watch it baby. You can be pissed at me but nastiness doesn’t suit you.”
It’s not worth wasting my energy arguing with the man. He won’t be the first man I’ve ignored.
My eyes are puffy and my face is red. Crying instead of sleeping is a poor way to take care of myself. It’s eight in the morning and the gleaming luxury shower beckons me.
“Rosa?” Roric taps on the door a second time as he calls my name.
I get back into bed, rolling over to take the covers. Just ignore him. I locked the door.
The door opens as I turn to pull the covers to my chin. “What the fuck? Get out.”
“I’m sorry, baby. The judge is due here in an hour. I have someone to help you get ready coming in twenty minutes, so you might want to shower.”
“What do you mean help me dress?”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. Clothes were delivered already.”
“Roric, I have clothes. The closet is full.”
He scrapes his foot on the carpet and raises his head to make eye contact. “You need a wedding dress.”
I sit up as the blankets fall to the bed, exposing my thin chemise. “Get out!”
He can’t take his eyes off my body. “Just get in the shower.”
“Fine.” I bolt for the bathroom. “Asshole!”
While I was showering, he pushed in a rack of pretty dresses. There must be twenty of them from the top designers. I shake my now freshly blow-dried hair. “This is not what I planned for my wedding.”
A voice startles me from the doorway. “Well, I’m here.”
Melanie stands outside the door with a large bag and an older woman behind her. “We’re here to help.”
A tear falls down my cheek as she strolls to me. “It can’t be that bad. He’s loaded.”
I sniffle. “Money isn’t everything.”
She cocks her hip to stand akimbo. “I disagree. A good sugar daddy is perfect.”
The other woman comes closer. “I’m Magdalena. I’ve known Roric and his family since he was a child.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m good at this. You aren’t the first wayward future spouse I’ve dressed for an event. Trust me.”
“That well has dried and collapsed. I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone again.”
“Pfft.” She rummages in her bag and sets out hair and makeup products on the dresser. “Let’s choose a dress.” She nods at Melanie, who fingers through the dresses.
“Ooh.” Melanie pulls a champagne-colored dress with an embroidered bodice. “One to try.”
“I guess it’s fine.”
Magdalena, who looks old enough to be my grandmother, frowns. “You might as well get onboard this marriage train. The Bravikov men are stubborn. He’s picked you. You are his.”
Her words hang in the air like the smell of wet dog. He doesn’t hit me. He’s better than my uncles.
Melanie squeals. “These two are Vera Wang gowns. You have to try these.”
“Okay.”
Magdalena dips her head at my body. “Just try them on here. It’s faster.” My head jolts to the door as she pats my arm. “He won’t come in. He knows better.”
Forty-five minutes later, I’m standing in front of the ornate fireplace with Roric, in front of an older gentleman in a black robe. He holds his bible in his hand. “Good morning.”
Melanie beams at the man. “Good morning, your honor.”
Suck up.
He smiles one of those fake smiles. “I’m here to marry you.” He glances at Magdalena, who winks back at the man. Obviously, they know each other.
I cock my head, holding a small bouquet of roses with baby’s breath in a pale lavender dress and white satin shoes. “Are you really a judge?”
He laughs with his eyes lighting up. “Yes.” He fumbles on the side of his robe and pulls out his wallet. Handing me his license, he nods to Roric. “Search my name.”
Roric takes out his phone and hands it to me. I search the man’s name and his photo pops up with a caption: Federal district judge retires. I hand Roric his phone and nod to the judge. “Fine.”
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to marry Roric and Rosa.” He dips his head to Roric. “Do you Roric take Rosa to be your wedded wife?
“I do.” He stares at me like I’m a cupcake, and he’s been on a diet for months.
The judge pivots to me. “Do you, Rosa, take Roric to be your wedded husband?”
I chew on my lip as the judge stands motionless. Thoughts jumble around my brain. I could just walk out. My uncle’s face flashes before my eyes as I nod. “Yes. I mean, I do.”
“Excellent. Where are the rings?”
Roric pulls out two velvet boxes from his suit pocket and hands me one. “Here.” I flip open the top to find a simple men’s platinum band.
The judge motions to Roric. “The ring.”
Roric places a massive solitaire on my finger. The stone sits in a flower setting with platinum petals so it looks like a rose. Oohs and ahhs echo from the women around the room. He leans in. “I know you don’t trust me, but I love you. I won’t disappoint you again.”
“Whatever.” I scoff as I shove the ring on his finger.
The judge smirks as he announces. “You’re married.”
Roric gently kisses my lips as Melanie squeals and claps like a trained seal. “Yay!” She pulls me into her embrace. “Your guy must be rich. He got a judge to waive the waiting period, and that ring. Wow!”
“Yeah. I’m lucky.” Sarcasm drips from my words, but she’s too shallow to notice. I miss my mother. She should have been here.
Roric hands me a computer tablet, and my mother’s face appears on the screen. “Congratulations.”
“Mama.”
“Roric explained. We’ll have a reception in a few days to celebrate. I can’t wait to see you. I’m grateful to your new husband for keeping you safe.”
Anger gurgles in the pit of my stomach. Safe indeed. His smile annoys me further as I turn my attention back to my mother.