Chapter Seven #2
She shakes her head. “No. My brother is…well, let’s say he’s kind of twisted. He’s cruel enough to be feared by most other people, but he still has a moral code to preserve his humanity. I wish it wasn’t like this, but in the mafia underworld, it’s either kill or be killed.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I’ve never imagined what it’s like to be in the mafia until now. It sounds like a nightmare of bloodshed and brutality.
“Can’t he just leave?” Even I can hear the ridiculousness in the question, but Tatiana indulges me anyway.
“It’s not that simple,” she explains. “There are freelancers, allies, and enemies who’ll pursue him to the end of the world if he dares leave. No one who makes it into the bratva ever gets out alive.”
“It sounds like a secret society to me.”
“That’s basically what it is,” she says with a casual shrug. “How’s the food?”
I fill my mouth with a forkful of pasta and moan. “It’s tasty.”
“Petrov’s a good cook. Too bad he’s also easy to fool.” She rises to her feet and smiles. “I have to go before Leonid finds out I was here. My brother can be a handful. See you later?”
I should be happy she came. Instead, my heart drops to my stomach at the notion of being locked up in here all alone again. “Are you going to come back?” I ask with a trembling voice.
“Sure.” She crouches beside me and pats the back of my hand reassuringly. “I’ll come here any chance I get, but don’t tell my brother I was here.”
Managing a smile, I raise my pinky finger. “I promise.”
She locks her own pinky finger with mine and smiles. “See you later, Elena.”
Rising to her feet, she turns and walks out the door. When I hear her lock the door behind her, I start to think that maybe there’s some hope I’ll make it out of here, after all.
***
Tearing my eyes open, I take in my environment.
I’m in a large room without much furniture, although more has been added since I arrived. Moonlight slices in through the small window above my bed. It takes a moment for the drowsiness to wear off and awareness of where I am to hit me.
As much as I’d hoped it was all a nightmare, I’m still in the basement of Leonid’s mansion.
It’s been two days since Tatiana’s visit, and I’d hoped she’d drop by to see me again, but she hasn’t.
Leonid hasn’t come to see me since the day we kissed. I can’t tell if he’s avoiding me because he feels the same pull as me and thinks it’s wrong for us to get involved with each other, or if he’s simply disgusted by me.
I’m not sure which it is, and as much as I hate to admit it, I kind of miss him.
A sigh leaves me as I rise from the bed.
My bare feet hit the cold floor and I drag a hand through my tangled hair. The basement is silent except or the faint hum of pipes somewhere in the walls.
Usually at night, one of the guards paces outside the door. I’ve learned to recognize the sound of heavy boots against the floor, but tonight, there’s nothing.
Frowning, I glance at the metal door and hold my breath when I notice it’s slightly open.
It’s never open unless Petrov’s bringing me a meal or Leonid’s coming to torture me with his deep voice and insanely handsome face.
For a moment, I just stare at it, convinced I’m imagining things. Leonid’s men don’t strike me as the types to slack off and make mistakes, simply because I’m certain he’d chop their heads off if they did.
But the narrow strip of darkness between the door and the frame is real. My pulse begins to hammer.
This could be a trap.
It probably is.
Still, my feet move before my brain catches up. I push the door open, wincing when the hinges creak. The hallway beyond is dimly lit, with silver light spilling from the sconces along the walls.
It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
My heart pounds harder as I step out of the basement for the very first time since I was kidnapped. I move slowly down the hallway, every sound making me wince.
Leonid’s threat of what would happen if I dared try to escape rings through my mind. I should turn around and head back to the basement, but my legs keep moving forward. My desperation for freedom makes it hard to act rationally.
Voices drift through the silence. Male voices.
I freeze.
One of the voices is deep and gruff enough to make recognition crawl down my spine.
Leonid.
His voice draws me forward before I can think better of it. I stop outside a door that’s only halfway closed and peep inside.
The room looks like a study. Leonid is sitting on a black leather chair behind a mahogany desk. Three other men sit on the other side of the desk.
They’re all speaking in Russian. I don’t understand any of it, except for one name that cuts through multiple times.
“Vasili.”
I don’t know anyone with that name, yet dread rolls through me at the sound of it.
Leonid responds quickly, still in Russian, but the name he says makes my stomach drop.
“Henry Miller.”
The rest of the conversation burs into meaningless Russian, but hearing Henry’s name in Leonid’s mouth is enough to make cold dread spread through me.
So this isn’t just about me. They somehow think Henry is involved. I think back to what Tatiana said about Leonid not torturing women, and think about how that doesn’t apply to Henry. My chest twists painfully.
What if Leonid kidnapped him, too? What if he’s had him killed already?
A gasp leaves me just thinking of Henry’s body battered and motionless. The sickening image of Leonid standing over him coats my veins like ice.
I throw my hand over my mouth so I don’t make a sound, but it’s too late.
A sudden scrape sounds from inside the office, and heavy footsteps approach the door.
Shit!
I consider running away, but the hallway’s awfully long and I wouldn’t make it to a corner before I’m caught. And even if I wanted to flee, I’m frozen with fear.
My heart slams against my ribcage as the footsteps draw nearer. I make a sign of the cross, praying whoever’s approaching the door suddenly has a change of heart and turns around.
God doesn’t answer my prayer.
The door swings open so suddenly I stumble back.
Leonid fills the doorway. He’s tall and imposing in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His dark gaze lands on me. It’s unreadable, yet frightening enough to drain the air from my lungs.
God.
The other three men swing their heads in our direction. I recognize Artem, the one who was with him the day he kidnapped me.
Silence crashes over the room, and for one horrible second, nobody moves. Then Leonid speaks in Russian again, his tone as cold as ice.
“Ubiraysya!”
I don’t understand what he says, but the authority in his voice is enough to make me flinch.
His men stand up immediately. One after the other, they file past me without a word, until it’s just Leonid and me standing outside his office.
“Why were you eavesdropping on me, ptichka?” he asks, his voice quiet in a way that sends trickles of ice down my bloodstream.
Anger surges through my fear. It’s fast enough to steady me and replace the terror I feel with rage that ripples all the way to my bones.
I return his question with one of my own. “I heard you say Henry’s name.” My voice comes out sharper than I expected. “What did you do to him?”
Leonid scoffs at me, but says nothing. And somehow, that infuriates me more.
“I don’t know what games you’re playing,” I snap. “But don’t even think about hurting him or I’ll…”
The over-six-foot giant I’m insanely attracted to steps closer, and the rest of the words die in my throat. His biceps strain as he moves deliberately closer, until his chest is nearly brushing mine. Heat radiates from him, and it’s overwhelming in the confined space.
“Or you’ll do what?” he asks, the fire in his eyes seeping into my skin and burning me until my resolve is ash. I hate the way my pulse reacts to his voice.
I open my mouth to speak, but only an embarrassing gasp leaves my throat.
“You need to understand something, ptichka,” he says in a deep, husky voice. “There are rules in this house, and you must follow those rules.”
My pulse races, and it only gets faster when his gaze slides down my body.
“What rules?”
He places his hand on the wall above me, caging me in and leaving no path for escape. I wonder how he’d react if I tried to make a run for it anyway.
“You do not leave the basement without my permission.”
I force myself to glare at him despite how painfully aware I am of his closeness. The basement door was left open, so it’s not my fault that I snuck out the first chance I got. But I don’t try to explain or defend myself.
Instead, I do my best to push his limits. To see how much I can get away with. I know I’m playing with fire, but the danger makes this even more tempting.
“And what happens if I break your rules?”
Something dangerous flickers across his face. He wraps his hand around my throat and pulls me closer, then tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear as he leans in and caresses my earlobes with his scorching breath.
My chest flutters and a deep, aching pulse awakens between my legs.
Cupping the back of my head, his glides his tongue across my ear and whispers, “I can’t promise to remain a gentleman the next time you break my rules.”