Joy
I know it’s time to start freaking out when I hear something metal fasten around my wrists.
The man removes my blindfold. I carefully open my eyes, expecting bright light. But this room is very dark. I glance around, noting the closed drapes and the four-poster bed I’ve been handcuffed to.
An explanation would be great. But this man is definitely too self-entitled to give me one.
I have no idea how I ended up here. Maybe he drugged me? Maybe he knocked me out? I have no idea.
But this must be his house.
“What the hell?” I tug away from the headboard, only for my wrists to slam back in place above my head. “You caught me breaking into your son’s apartment, not stealing a diamond ring.”
That reminds me. Where the fuck is my bag? And all that cash?
The mattress dips as the man takes a seat. After pinning me a look, he sticks his hand into his pocket. And pulls out the cash.
I jolt forward, the handcuffs clanging against the wooden headboard.
The effortless way he shoves the five thousand bucks back into his pocket tells me he doesn’t care about the money. Figures, if you can afford Alexander Amosu.
“That cash is mine.”
“Well,” says the man, “it’s mine now. Just like everything else my son owns.”
“What?” I blink, trying to understand what the fuck he means by this. But right now, I’m still hung up over the five thousand bucks. “I need that money.”
“Not anymore, you don’t.”
“Hate me all you want for selling the ring. I did what had to be done. Your son has been setting me up.”
The man’s eyes turn pensive. “How has he been doing that?”
“He’s tied my name to offshore accounts in Dubai that have millions of dollars in them.” I scrutinize the man’s reaction, watching his eyebrows raise. “Yeah, I know. Unbelievable.” I resist the handcuffs again. As usual, they slam me right back into the bed.
“Stop that. You’ll mark the mahogany.”
“That’s an easy fix.” I glare at him. “Let. Me. Go.”
“No. You’re staying here for the time being until I’m finished with you.”
What the hell? I frown.
The mattress dips again as my kidnapper moves closer to me. His cologne fills my nostrils. Such a delicious, masculine scent. I don’t remember his son ever smelling this good.
“Since you chained me to your bed and this is all getting pretty… intimate, you should at least tell me your name.”
“Valerian,” he grunts.
Interesting name to match the very interesting face.
“My son,” he begins, stroking a finger over his lip, “has betrayed me.”
“Cry me a river.”
Valerian levels me a look.
My body tingles with adrenaline, electricity shooting to my core. My clit is starting to throb.
This really is the worst time to be turned on.
“You take an oath when you join the Bratva. And my son went against his oath.”
I bat my lashes repeatedly, trying to make sense of one word in particular. Bratva. As in Russian organized crime?
I steer my eyes back to Valerian’s face. Suddenly, everything becomes very clear.
“You’re… the…?”
“Pahkan of the Sokolov Bratva,” he finishes for me. He says it like I’ve heard of this name before.
Of course I haven’t. Unlike some people, I prefer to stay on the right side of the law.
Unless I’m trying to get my things back.
Valerian studies my face carefully. “My son needs to learn a lesson,” he says. “Igor can’t betray me and expect everything to go on the same as before. Life doesn’t work that way.”
My heart thumps in my chest, waiting for Valerian to get to the point.
“I’m taking everything away from my son.”
“Technically, that money isn’t yours. Igor gave that ring to me.”
“Yes, and you also belong to me now.”
My heart drops to my stomach. “What?”
“I’m taking away his apartment. His money. His woman.”
“This is outrageous. I broke up with Igor two days ago.”
“And you still mean a lot to him.”
Uh, I’ll be the judge of that. I shake my head. “You can’t blindfold a person, throw them in your car and chain them to your bed.”
“I can if they were trying to break into a property, which now belongs to me,” says Valerian. The wooden bedframe creaks as he lifts up, closing the gap between us. Our faces are only inches apart. “I can do whatever I want.”
Sweat drips down my back again. I try to breathe. But I can’t. Valerian’s taken my oxygen supply. That must belong to him, too.
His cologne works through me like alcohol, taking me out of my head and into my body.
My pussy burns. There’s something very riveting about this.
My arms ache from the handcuffs. But I like it. Igor never treated me this way and took away the ability for me to touch myself. Being denied something makes you want it more.
That’s probably why I want Valerian to kiss me. Because he shouldn’t.
I was engaged to his son two days ago.
Valerian trails his finger up my arm, noting the handcuffs.
“I bet my son never did this to you,” he taunts.
Like he’s reading my fucking mind.
A shiver runs to the base of my spine as I anticipate what will come next.
For the first time in my life, I can’t predict what’s around the corner.