Chapter 27 —Eva
I sat bound to a wooden chair in a dimly lit room with damp walls and a single window above. The moon’s soft light filtered through the broken glass, casting an ethereal glow over me.
My hands were tied behind my back, the unforgiving ropes biting into my skin. I sat there in silence with tape over my mouth, watching my captors try to call Demyon back.
Apparently, the negotiation didn’t go as planned, and he hung up the phone while the leader was still making his demands. The man was confused at first; he thought it was a glitch and decided to call again.
It turned out that the phone was ringing on the other line, but no one was answering. This enraged them, and the leader yelled in frustration.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Call him again,” one of his men suggested.
“You call him again!” he snapped, slamming the phone against the man’s chest.
He turned in my direction, his eyes blazing with fury as he walked over and peeled the tape off my mouth. A quiet groan slipped through my lips, and I met his gaze, refusing to show any fear.
His hand darted out and grabbed my jaw. “You’d better hope he takes his call and follows through with the plan,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “Or God help me, I will cut you to pieces and toss your remains into the river.”
I flexed my jaw after he let go, watching him seethe in silence. “Run,” I said softly, my eyes pinned on him.
“What was that?” he questioned, like he hadn’t heard me the first time.
“I said run.”
He glanced back at his men, and they burst out laughing.
“Now, why would we do that?” one of them asked me, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.
“Because you want to live,” I answered, calm and collected. “Take the money in the bag and run for your life.”
The leader swiped his thumb over his nose and scuffed. “Are you threatening us? You’re the one bound to a fuckin’ chair.”
“I’m trying to save your lives here,” I said. Then I added almost immediately, “Look, I get it. You’re just some greedy amateurs trying to get rich overnight. But you’ve messed with the wrong person.”
“Greedy amateurs?” The leader let out a quiet laugh and glanced back at his men. “Did you hear that? She called us greedy amateurs.”
The others laughed.
The man’s smirk vanished in a second, and he withdrew his gun, then placed the barrel on my forehead. “Listen here, Princess, I’m not playing games with you—”
“Neither am I,” I cut him off, even though my heart was hammering in my chest. “Think about it. Why do you think you can’t reach his phone anymore?”
The man’s expression darkened.
“It’s because he knows where you are, dummy,” I blurted out, savoring the fear creeping into his face.
He glanced back at his men before swallowing hard. “That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” I asked. “You called him to ask for ransom, and he didn’t threaten you. Demyon Tarasov didn’t threaten you.” I let the words sink in for a bit. “Instead, he kept you on the phone for about what…two—three minutes? Which, by the way, is enough time for his men to track your location.”
He tried to mask his fear with a frown, but it was too late; I could see through him. The man was terrified.
“Do you now see why he’s not taking your calls?” I added.
Silence fell, tension hovered in the air, and I could sense their unease.
“She’s bluffing,” one of them suggested, trying to sound confident.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But do you really wanna stick around and find out?”
They looked at each other with nervous glances.
“Listen, fellas, it’s not worth it—just take the bag and go now that you have the chance.”
The leader’s grip tightened around his pistol, and when he cocked the damn thing, I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.
I locked my jaw, struggling to put on a brave face.
“Since you have such a sharp tongue,” he began. “Tell me, what’s stopping me from putting a bullet in your skull before taking the bag?”
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my voice. “Nothing,” came my response. “Nothing’s stopping you right now.” I looked him dead in the eyes and said, “But you’re not gonna do it.”
His brows drew together. “You underestimate me, Princess.”
“No, you underestimate him,” I said, holding his gaze. “Demyon Tarasov is not a human being. He’s a demon from the pit of hell. What do you think he’d do if he came here and found the lifeless body of his bride drowning in the pool of her own blood?”
The others were already jumpy by now.
I continued, “He will turn this city upside down looking for you, and I can guarantee you that he will find you.”
The man swallowed hard, a bead of cold sweat streaming down his temple.
“He won’t stop with you,” I kept going, hoping that my words would scare them enough to back away. “He will go after everyone you’ve ever cared about and clear them off the face of the earth. Your mother, your father, your brothers, your sisters—”
“Fine, you made your point!” He lowered his gun and turned to his men. “Grab the bag, and let’s move.”
I let out a soft sigh of relief and closed my eyelids for a moment. Then came the chaos.
My body stiffened at the sudden sound of rapid gunfire filling the air. I squeezed my eyes shut, flinching at the destruction around me. The front door got knocked down, and heavy footsteps pounded into the room.
I heard one of my captors begging for mercy, but what came next was a loud gunshot, accompanied by a deafening silence.
“Eva, are you okay?” His familiar voice melted my heart, especially because it was dripping with concern.
I opened my eyes, and there he was, my savior, crouched before me with a gentle expression. Blood splattered his face, but I knew it wasn’t his. He drew a switchblade and cut through the ropes that bound my feet together.
One of his men behind me did the same with the ropes that tied my hands. Once I was free, I rose to my feet, throwing my arms around his neck. I inhaled the scent of his cologne, mixed with the smell of sweat and gunpowder.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, fighting back the tears that welled in my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh.” He stroked my hair, his possessive hands around my waist.
“You were right. I never should’ve left the mansion.” I lost the battle, and those tears trickled down my cheeks.
“You’re safe now,” he said softly. “That’s all that matters.”
My grip tightened around him. “I’m not gonna run away again; I promise.”
He held on to me like he was never going to let go, and in his strong arms, I felt safe and secure.
***
I never thought that I’d ever be happy to be back at the estate, considering how much I used to loathe the place. It was clear to me now that what used to be my prison was now my safe space.
Olga and the other maids were excited that I’d returned to them without a scratch on my body. I knew I owed them an apology because, knowing my husband, he must’ve made their lives a living hell after I vanished under their watch.
He held my hand and didn’t let go until we reached our master bedroom. When I told him I needed to take a shower, he offered to bathe me, and I didn’t refuse.
We got naked and stepped into the bathroom together, neither of us saying a word to each other. He turned on the shower, and as the water hit our skin, he grabbed the soap and began tracing the curves of my body with it.
His touch was electrifying, and I felt all my muscles relaxing by the second. He washed my hair, massaged my breasts, and sponged my skin with delicate strokes. Under the shower, I turned and faced him, returning the favor.
My hands roamed his ripped body, tracing the ridges of his abs and his broad chest. He pushed his thumbs into my temples, rubbing them in a slow, circular motion. I closed my eyes, feeling my tension dissipating into thin air.
The longer I stayed in here with him, the more my pulse quickened. His touch ignited a fire within me, and when he pressed my back against the wall, a soft moan escaped my lips.
He gazed into my eyes, his left hand resting beside my head. With his right hand, he caressed my body while holding my gaze. Demyon pinched my nipples, one after the other, deliciously. He lifted my hands above my head, trapping them both under his left palm.
I moaned softly when he dipped his right hand between my legs and began fingering my pussy. I bit my lower lip, my body writhing against the wall as I basked in the sweet sensation coursing through me.
He fingered me slowly, as if savoring every second. The deeper he went, the more sensual my moans became. Everything was happening slowly—smooth and effortless. Nothing was rushed, not just because we were both tired, but because that’s how we wanted it tonight.
“Kiss me,” I whispered, staring right into his eyes.
He leaned in, planting a soft, magnetic kiss that had me glued. My lips parted slightly, accepting his tongue as we exchanged warm breaths. With my hands bound above my head, I could only moan in response to the heat spreading through my body.
After we were done in the bathroom, we returned to the room where he gently lowered my body on the bed. Demyon hovered over me, kissing my lips and fondling my breasts. Beneath him, I stroked his length, focusing more on his cap.
His mouth left mine for a moment, allowing me to moan without obstruction when he began sucking my breasts. One at a time. He flicked his tongue over my hard nipples, the coolness of his saliva seeping into my skin.
While squeezing one boob, he sucked on the other, his actions sending waves of pleasure crashing against me. He kissed the nape of my neck, through to the gap between my breasts. His mouth settled briefly on my belly button before sliding down to my waiting entrance.
I arched my back, letting out a series of soft moans—raw and unadulterated. He patted my vulva with his tongue, the teeth grazing gently against my swollen clit. I tipped my head back, feeling the chills running down my spine.
I’d almost forgotten how good he was with his tongue. Damn. He held my thighs in place while devouring my pussy, his moves slow and effortless. I gripped the sheets, bucking my hips in response to his touch.
He sucked my juice with the calmness of a man taking his time to enjoy himself. My legs trembled in the air as I reached down to caress his hair. He moved his tongue up and down, then side to side, his fingers digging into my thighs.
I let myself drown in a sea of passion, my eyes rolling backward as he ate my pussy clean. His techniques were mind-blowing, and I found myself basking in the euphoria of what came with it.
My toes curled in ecstasy and I arched my back, tugging at the sheets. “Oh, Demyon…” I purred.
As he ate, he listened to my body language, paying attention to my needs. I positioned myself on my elbows, eyes looking down at him. He glanced up at me, his tongue flicking rapidly over my clit.
“Yes, like that…” I moaned, biting my lower lip. “Just like that.”
He maintained a steady rhythm and was consistent with his moves. I felt myself unraveling, surrendering completely to him. Gradually, he quickened his pace and just like that, I found myself climaxing.
My moans grew louder, fingers clenching more tightly against the sheets. With each passing second, I drew closer and closer to the edge. Yet he didn’t stop.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” I announced, my voice barely above a whisper.
My face was contorted in pleasure, my toes curling more tightly. My body stiffened, and my mouth was open in a silent scream. I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction washing over me as my legs trembled.
My breath hitched in my throat, my moans coming in short gasps. I let out a soft sigh as a thread of liquid slipped through my entrance. My muscles relaxed, my grip loosening around the sheets as I came undone.
He raised his head, a small grin playing on his face as he wiped my juice from his mouth. I stared at him in awe, my expression soft and warm as he hovered over me.
“Don’t ever run away from me again,” he whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“I won’t,” I answered, my eyes boring into his.
He lay on his back, and I placed my head on his broad chest, my leg crossed over his thighs. I listened to the sound of his heart beating steadily, a deep sigh of relief escaping my lips.
I closed my eyes and slung my hand over his body, grateful that he’d shown up for me when he had.
Demyon might be a monster, but at least he was my monster—one who would do anything to protect me. I meant it when I promised never to leave again because I’d finally accepted my fate.
I was the wife of a Russian Bratva boss, one whose name struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. This was my new reality, and I’d come to terms with it. When the man who was supposed to protect me left me for dead, Demyon Tarasov had stepped in and saved the day.
He was a ruthless beast to many.
But to me, he was a hero, a husband, and a potential father. Demyon was my home. With him, I felt safe.