Chapter 4
Nikolai
Nobody would ever call me a patient man. In fact, anyone who knows me would probably say exactly the opposite. Reckless, impulsive, hot-headed, with a volatile temper to rival any grizzly bear. I am not a subtle person, and I am lucky enough to be afforded a position in life where that makes a great deal of money. Normally. But now circumstances are anything but normal. I’m forcing myself to be patient, because I know how great the payoff will be when I achieve my objectives and exact my revenge. The wait will be worth it.
After what happened in Moscow with Helena, I know that I have a whole new level of responsibility now. Things have changed since I became the head of the Volkovich family.
All I can do is live up to my father”s legacy by avenging his death in the only way I can. I”m on track to accomplish both of those goals. I already started when I cornered Helena into her death.
The image of her twisted body, lying beneath the balcony floats through my mind’s eye and I sigh, shaking my head. She was so beautiful, but her beauty couldn’t make up for the flaws inside of her. Not after the sins she committed. Not after the direct part she played in the death of my father.
Helena was never the sort of woman to enact her own plans, she was a psycho with matches, just looking for somebody to put kindling in front of her. She set her sights on my family, and I will repent allowing her to get close to me for the rest of my life.
Of course, I hadn’t realized there was a serpent in my bed. She slithered into my life and coiled herself and her perfect legs around me, blinding me to the terrible truth, but I won’t be that foolish again. Now, I’m too hardened to fall for a woman’s charms. This time, I’m prepared and the woman that I’ve brought home will feel no warmth from me.
Little Anya, sweetheart that she is, will give me everything I need. She is the key to my vengeance. Through her, I will bring the final culprit of my father’s death to justice, and I willcrush them all.
I sit on the green velvet sofa in my Vegas apartment, kicking my feet up onto one of the arms, and wait. Anya is slumped in the large armchair across from me, still unconscious. I”ve been waiting for her to wake up for nearly two hours. As I watch her, I run my thumb over my bottom lip in thought. She hasno idea what awaitsher. Little thing that she is. Right now, she”s completely and utterly at my mercy. I could do anything that I wanted to her, and that thought alone has power. The look on her face when she wakes up and realizes that she is now my prisoner, that too, will have power.
Any moment now.
My impatience starts to get the better of me when she stubbornly refuses to stir. It doesn’t usually take this long for someone to wake up from unconsciousness, but I hit the bundle of nerves at the back of her neck very hard. Perhaps I was too rough with her.
I swing my legs down and rise to my feet, ambling over to her. She’s a pretty little thing with a slender frame and delicate features, completely different than Helena’s build. Helena was tall and lithe, with every curve that a person could ask for in a woman. When she walked, her hips swayed seductively, she was a woman that practically oozed sex. It was part of what drew me to her, how strong she presented herself.
Anya has an untrained, artless sort of fire to her. Though I can’t see her eyes now, I can picture how her mahogany gaze simmered with fear when I captured her. A slight frown creases her face, and her button nose is scrunched even in slumber. Is she dreaming of me? Perhaps, it is more of a nightmare. I chuckle, the real nightmare is going to be what’s waiting for her when she wakes up.
Stooping forward, I trail a finger down her arm, her olive skin soft and supple beneath my touch. With her dark hair and exquisite features, there is something sensual and exotic about this woman. Even with her sensible outfit, I believe embers are burning within her, and they will need to be stoked in order for her passion to reach its full potential.
I let myself trace the curve of her arm down to her waist, and back up again. Her shirt lifts to reveal her toned, taut stomach. Yes, the wardrobe that I have already selected for her is going to suit her far better.
Breaking a woman is a very careful process. Too much and you can damage their psyche, which will benefit nobody. I have found that taking away every single choice, then slowly introducing things back in a controlled way, is the simplest first step. I should strip her now, wouldn’t that be amusing?
My cock hardens at the thought and I’m through waiting for her to wake up. If I wait any longer, my mind will stray to places that I refuse to allow it to go. Yet. I squat down beside the couch and push her hair away from her face.
I”m going to startle her awake in a moment, and these few moments of peace may be the last she ever has. I trace the shape of her nose with two fingers, lingering on her lips. She has such pretty lips—lips that will be forced to do such horrible deeds.
I push my fingers between them, and she opens her mouth for me, her eyes starting to roll underneath her eyelids. Slowly fluttering as if she knows that, on some level, her body is being invaded. Her tongue rolls around my fingers, suctioning them in further. What an interesting reaction. I would give anything to know what she’s dreaming of right now.
I push two fingers into her mouth, slowly moving them in and out, pressing further each time until she gags. It’s not the first gag that wakes her. If anything, her mouth opens wider to accept the movement.
“Anya,” I say, fucking her mouth with my invasive fingers. “Time to wake up.” I push further until I can feel my knuckles hitting her teeth as she jerks, her body twisting, attempting to force herself back into the cushions that she’s sprawled out on. I can’t imagine how confused she must be as her stomach wrenches and she sputters for breath. I can hardly contain my amusement.
Anya coughs and sucks in a huge gulp of air, her eyes fluttering open. Confusion fills her cloudy gaze as she stares at me in bewilderment, obviously trying to get her bearings. For several seconds, she remains frozen, and I can pinpoint the exact instant that the events of last night come flooding back to her. Her puzzlement instantly transforms into terror, and I smile at her devilishly.
“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living,” I drawl as I stand over her and plant my hands on the arms of her chair. Anya scrambles away, pressing herself flush to the back. I’m confident she won’t try to flee. After all, there’s nowhere for her to go.
“I was starting to think you were going to stay unconscious all day.”
“You!” she gasps, nostrils flaring wildly. “What did you do to me? Where am I?”
The onslaught of her questions quietly amuses me. I shrug and wipe my fingers clean on her shirt. “Which one would you like me to answer first?” I inquire smoothly.
“All of them,” she declares in a panic. “Any of them. Why are you doing this?”
“Now, that is an excellent question,” I respond coolly, taking a step away from her. “But you’re not ready to know.”
Anya stumbles to her feet, evidently still woozy. “Just tell me what’s going on,” she begs, and I love that sound. Begging. It’s the sweetest noise.
“Well,” I start slowly, enjoying her nervousness. “I believe that I already introduced myself in the club. My name is Nikolai,” I remind her. “But you can call me Sir if you would like.”
“I can think of plenty of things to call you,” she retorts feistily, rolling her eyes and evoking a cruel chuckle from me.
“Now, that’s not the way to make friends,” I tell her sardonically, laughing when she stares at me like I’m crazy. Clearly, she doesn’t understand my humor. She’s too serious.
“Look, you’re staying here now. There’s nowhere for you to go and no way for you to leave. You need to get used to it. It can be very pleasant for you here or it can be decidedly… unpleasant.”
Anya pauses and takes in her surroundings for the first time. Despite her better judgment, I can tell she”s taken with the house. Though it is just one of many, it has a special place in my heart. The bright lights of Vegas have always dazzled me, and the city itself is too addictive to resist.
My house is decorated to reflect the energy of the city as much as possible without looking like a casino. It”s not the gambling or even the money that draws me here, but rather what happens in the early hours of the morning. The sin of it all, the shady dealings that no one wants to look at directly. That’s what I like.
“Do you live here?” she asks me, chewing on her lower lip.
“We both live here,” I insist. “For now.”
Clearing her throat, she sighs. “What do you plan on doing with me? I mean, you attacked me, knocked me out like some weird Russian caveman and dragged me back here. There has to be a reason, unless you’re just completely mental.”
“I could be completely mental, true.”
Her wit impresses me, an unusual occurrence. Very few people in this world possess that ability which makes her rare.
“You can see yourself as my honorary guest for now, if that settles better with you. But make no mistake; you are staying here,” I say with a tiger’s smile. “Unless you piss me off. Then, I’ll be forced to kill you.”
My words hang heavy in the air, thickening it with tension. I can smell the fear radiating off her slender body. I inhale deeply, cherishing that scent. Fear equates to power. My power. This is not going to be like the last time I welcomed a woman into my home. But then, Anya is not Helena and I refuse to allow this one to wield any of her own power over me.
Fixing my eyes on her, I smirk. “Would you like a drink?” I offer, sauntering over to the mahogany bar that dominates an entire quarter of the living room.
Startled by the sudden segue in the wake of my overt threat, she shakes her head. “I want to go home,” she tells me determinedly, fire flashing in her cocoa-colored eyes.
“Ah, I’m afraid that’s not a possibility,” I reply with a nonchalant shrug, pouring myself a large brandy from a crystal decanter. I lift the cool glass to my lips and draw down a long swallow, watching as she gulps. “This is your home now and you can’t leave it.”
Anya folds her arms defiantly in front of her chest, setting her face into a mask of rebelliousness. “You can’t keep me prisoner,” she warns. “I’ll find a way out.”
For a moment, I’m stunned by the fire that burns so brightly inside her. I see it flash through her eyes. Unfortunately for her, my forte is extinguishing those fires, rather than stoking them. “So, you’re planning on jumping out the window and plummeting forty stories down?” I question, a hint of amusement bleeding into my tone. “That’s the only way out apart from the elevator and you need a voice-activated code to use that. Now, tell me Miss Houdini, how do you plan on escaping in light of those little details?”
Taken aback by the revelation, I see her tense with terror. Anya knows she’s trapped. Right now, and maybe forever, she belongs to me, and I can do whatever I want to her. Empathy is not an emotion I’m well-acquainted with, and I’m sure she loathes me. If I were here, I would want to destroy everything in my path.
Frustration radiates off of her. “Why?” she demands again. “Why are you doing this? I’ve never met you before. I haven’t hurt you so why do you want to hurt me? Are you a psychopath?”
To her credit, the girl probably is not far off the mark with that comment. However, I laugh it off and shrug. “You’re the key to my vengeance,” I reveal cryptically, seemingly creating more questions than I’ve answered.
“Your vengeance? What the hell does that even mean?” she questions through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps your father could explain it to you,” I reply coldly, aggravated at the thought of the man. “Of course, it’s a shame it will be a long time before you see him again, if you ever do.”
“You know my father?” she whispers.
Cracking my neck, I level a frosty stare at her. “You’re trapped here as revenge against him. That’s all you need to know. I’ll be keeping you for as long as I wish. If you behave yourself, you might stay alive. If not…”
The words I leave unsaid speak volumes, and a noticeable quiver rocks her backward. She’s right to be scared. Any sensible woman would be. At least I know she”s not a moron. Intelligent women are far more enjoyable to break. She clearly wants to exact revenge on me right now. Instead, she remains motionless, a death stare fixed on me. I can”t wait for her to retaliate. I”m almost looking forward to her attempts to escape. For her to realize there is no way out.
For we both know that I hold all the power.