Chapter 8 – Artur
Two full days had passed since the brief incident at the dinner table, and I still couldn't understand what compelled me to not only get up from my chair but also put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
I told myself that it was nothing serious; it wasn’t that deep. But was it really not that deep? Was feeling some sort of concern about her fear and unease really nothing serious? It was just a fuckin’ storm, a series of harmless thunderclaps.
Why did her anxiety and potential panic attack bother me so much? She was just a prisoner, someone of no real importance to me. Why couldn’t I look away and ignore her silly reaction to a thunderstorm?
I got involved, hiding in the cover of darkness to make my move, which turned out to be very effective, by the way. The moment my hand settled on her shoulder, her breathing began to steady. So did her rapidly heaving chest.
When I dared to rub her flesh in a massaging motion, I felt her muscles relaxing beneath my touch. The soft moan that escaped her lips clearly told me she loved it and was enjoying it.
At first, I wasn’t exactly sure how she would respond to it. I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be. However, after hearing the sounds coming from her mouth, I concluded that I was giving her what she didn’t know she needed.
It was strange and a little creepy—awkward, even—yet she didn’t push me away. The fact that my touch didn’t repulse her or trigger some kind of malicious reaction was something I still couldn’t quite understand.
What did that mean?
It was almost like, within those few minutes that the lights were out, we somehow connected. The tension was heavy in the air, mixed with something I wasn’t ready to name.
We’d felt it. Both of us. The charge.
It was like nothing I’d ever felt before, something that made my heart race. While massaging her shoulders in the dark, a part of me wished the power wouldn’t come back up.
I wasn’t the kind of person to force myself on a woman, even though I had the power to do so. Celine was my prisoner, far from home and without anyone to stand up for her. Taking advantage of her for my own pleasure would have been easy.
But no.
I didn’t operate like that.
I might be the devil himself, but at least I was the devil who respected a woman’s body.
The reason I snuck behind her and touched her shoulders was never to spark anything sexual. Despite the fact that I’d very much like to taste her. That wasn’t my intention. I simply wanted to offer comfort without showing my face.
After her body responded positively, the thought did cross my mind to make a bolder move. However, I didn’t. Not because I couldn’t. But because I chose not to.
To me, consent mattered more than anything else. Granted, her reaction and the sounds coming from her lips were all the invitation that I needed. Yet I chose to decline it.
Why?
Torture.
I’d finally found a weakness worth exploiting.
What happened in the dark that evening proved that she was just as attracted to me as I was to her. Good. That meant I could make her suffer a little. Now that I’d discovered the attraction between us was mutual, I was going to use that to my advantage.
Henceforth, whatever actions I would make would be justified because it wouldn’t be me forcing myself on her. It was going to be a battle of two adults lusting over each other.
This should be fun.
Sitting in my office this evening, my mind flashed back to the moment the lights came back on. The look on her face when she saw me seated in my chair across the table, as though I’d never left, was priceless.
I saw the confusion in her eyes. She wasn’t sure whether what she experienced in the dark was real. And she sadly couldn’t bring herself to ask.
Me?
I just sat there that night, watching her struggle to make sense of what had happened. She didn’t ask. And I didn’t bother to answer. So, we sat there in the awkward silence, eating, with her shooting occasional glances at me.
That…was the moment the game began. At least for me, anyway.
The door creaked open, the sound pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Boss.” It was Konstantin.
I looked up at him without a word.
“There’s a new development.”
I squinted my eyes a bit, knowing what this was about.
Just yesterday, he’d caught another traitor, a man named Mikhail Sokolov. Like Bogdan– the idiot who planned to sell my ledger to a rival group—this moron also thought he could double-cross me.
Mikhail was one of my most loyal foot soldiers, yet he chose to betray me. That’s why trust was a luxury men like me couldn’t afford in my world. Anyone could turn against us at any moment, especially if they had the right motivation.
Some men turned traitors because of greed—money. Others did the same out of their own personal grievances. I once had a soldier who turned on me because, according to him, I was too ruthless and had no regard for the lives of men.
Of course, he was with his maker now, together with every Tom, Dick, and Harry that had betrayed me. Loyalty was non-negotiable, and the punishment for treachery was death.
The only reason Bogdan was still alive after trying to sell my ledger was because I found him useful. The idiots he had a deal with didn’t know that I was using him to get to them.
Mikhail, on the other hand, was definitely going to suffer the same fate as the others. Death.
Konstantin and I went down to the basement where the moron was strapped to a chair. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of sweat and blood.
Mikhail’s hands and feet were bound with tight ropes that dug into his skin. His body was marred with deep, fresh cuts, his face battered beyond recognition. His breathing was coming in short, labored gasps, his eyes red and swollen.
“Tell him what you told me,” Konstantin said to him.
Straining, he managed to look at me as I towered over him with a blank expression.
“He has my family,” he began, his voice frail and weak. “He said if I didn’t steal the information he wanted, he was going to kill them.” He coughed up blood, and a thick crimson thread lingered on his lower lip.
“He who?” I questioned.
He glanced at Konstantin, then returned his gaze to me. “Rocco.”
My brows knitted in anger, with my fingers curling into fists on both sides. The fact that he got involved with the man made my blood boil, and all I wanted to do was blow his brains out.
Rocco Alessandro Romano was the head of the Italian syndicate. He controlled smuggling, high-stakes gambling, and underground markets. The man was a big shark, feared and revered by many in the criminal underworld.
Fun fact: The cocky son of a bitch had a personal vendetta against me. Years ago, I disrupted a high-value shipment meant for the Romano family. It ended in a disaster that caused the family some serious damage.
Rocco believed that I personally orchestrated the attack that almost ruined his business. He believed that I did it out of jealousy and envy.
How ridiculous!
Ever since, he’d been out to get me, determined to reclaim what he believed I owed him.
Now, knowing our history, I didn’t expect any of my men to get involved with him. Directly or indirectly.
Without hesitation, I pulled out my pistol and aimed at him. However, before I could squeeze the trigger, that unmistakable voice stopped me.
“No, don’t!”
I turned toward the door, and there she was, my little prisoner. She stood coldly by the entrance with her hand extended in front of her. The fear in her eyes was as real as the gun in my hand.
Konstantin’s face twisted into a frown, but he didn’t make any move. He just glared at her.
I hated distractions while working, especially on important things like this. Yet, there she was, interrupting my work.
How dare she?
What gave her the effrontery to walk down here and interfere?
“Get out of here,” I growled, my eyes blazing with fury.
“I will once you put the gun down,” she said, taking cautious steps forward.
“Celine, don’t make me repeat myself,” I warned her, my voice deep and venomous.
“You don’t have to kill him,” she stated, her tone gentle and strangely soothing. “You heard what he said; he was acting under duress—the man was going to kill his family. He didn’t have a choice.”
I glared at the traitor whose breath was hitched, heart hammering in his chest. He was staring death right in the face, his life flashing before his very eyes.
One squeeze. That’s all it would take to send him to hell, to plaster the wall behind him with his brains.
I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around the cold steel. A part of me wanted to end his miserable life, but the other part wanted to listen to Celine’s pleas. Honestly, I hated how much effect she was starting to have on me—especially in front of my men.
Without a word, I lowered my gun, marched toward her, and grabbed her by the wrist. She winced in pain, but I ignored it as I dragged her out of the room with me.
We climbed up the stairs and stormed through the halls, footsteps pounding against the floor.
“Aww! You’re hurting me,” she grumbled, struggling to squirm out of my hold.
I didn’t respond. Didn’t let go either.
The library door was the closest to us, so I pushed it open and forced her inside. Then and only then did I free her from my firm grip.
She stumbled forward but didn’t fall, and when she straightened up, she looked at me with a mix of fear and defiance. She rolled her wrist in a massage-like motion as if trying to ease the pain.
“Don’t you ever…” I stepped closer, my face twisted in anger, with a finger pointing at her, “…ever do that again. Do you hear me?”
“Do what?” she shot back, her voice low and shaky. “Stop you from killing a man unjustly?”
Her spunk. I loved it and hated it at the same time.
“You have no idea what’s going on here,” I said.
“Maybe I don’t,” she answered, looking up at me.
“But I do know this. That man was only trying to save his family—something you’ll never understand because you’re a cold-blooded monster who doesn’t know what it’s like to love someone so much that you’re willing to do anything to save them.
” The words rushed out of her in a quiet yet frantic burst.
I didn’t expect to be triggered by that, but I was. It made me so mad that I reached out and grabbed her by the waist.
Her body stiffened, and she locked her jaw in an attempt to mask her terror.
“You claim I’m a monster, yet you run your mouth without control,” I whispered in her face. “Tell me, is that courage…or folly?”
She swallowed hard.
“Perhaps I’ve been so soft on you that you now forget your place.”
Silence.
I could hear her heart drumming in her chest and could smell the scent of her fear.
“Since you care so much about that man, I’ll put his life in your hands,” I said, my eyes tracing the curve of her mouth.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
My lips twisted into a mischievous grin. “I’ll let him go on the condition that you’ll do whatever I want, whenever I want, and however I want it.”
Again, silence.
I didn’t realize my grip was so tight on her waist until I saw the pain on her face. Quietly, I loosened my hold but didn’t let go. Not yet.
“I’m your prisoner, aren’t I?” she began. “Last time I checked, prisoners didn’t have choices.”
“Say it,” I demanded. “Say you’ll do whatever I want, and he’ll walk.”
She swallowed hard, searching my eyes as if the answers she needed were hidden there.
“Say it.”
After a moment of hesitation, she gave in. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Amused by her decision, I let go of her, but my gaze lingered. “You traded your freedom for a man you don’t even know,” I scoffed. “Interesting.”
Celine shook her head subtly. “I was never free. If I were, I wouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice cracking, eyes filled with unshed tears.
I leaned in, my face mirroring hers, my hand sliding to the back of her neck. Her breath was warm against my skin, her lips quivering as my thumb gently traced the curve of her mouth.
Her chest rose and fell with slow breaths, her eyes boring into mine. The atmosphere was charged with tension, the kind that made my heart skip a beat.
Our lips were inches apart, and before another word could come out of her, I planted a kiss she couldn’t resist. It was hot, controlling, and swift, so much so that it left me breathless and wanting more.
However, I pulled away, watching her struggle to breathe. The fleeting kiss sealed our deal. It was both a punishment and a promise.
She stood there in silence, shaking—not from fear. No. From something far more dangerous.
Satisfied with her reaction, I flashed her a smirk and headed out of the library.