15. Dmitri
15
DMITRI
“ T his leather is riding up my ass, and I wore leotards for years,” Elanee complains. She’s wearing leather pants and thick boots with a tight top. I’m immediately regretting delegating Layla the task of grabbing a change of clothes for her. Layla was no doubt fucking with me because Elanee, even when covering most of her face with wide-brimmed glasses, a cap, and that outfit was still driving me insane.
“If I had to take a kick to the head by the kid back there in economy, I don’t want to hear you complaining about anything up your ass.” I all but growl.
In my peripheral, I can see the hint of a smile. And I hate how it’s restricted. She used to laugh freely, but now she acts as if she needs permission to do so. Despite the need to find out everything about my father, I wanted to take her out of his clutches this weekend as well. To remind her why she had to keep fighting.
The car comes to a stop at the hotel. It’s a little out of the city, in the opposite direction of Layla, who’s posing as her sister for her client’s wedding.
We’d practically spent the car trip arguing in the back seat after I forced her into it. Elanee might enjoy her job as a matchmaker and find a sense of pride in it. But I wasn’t letting her go if this was one of the few chances we got to spend together so I could assert a plan against the Bratva.
My only saving grace was they didn’t have a prominent presence in New York. I made sure of that, and the Italian mafia was enough of a deterrent as well. The downside is that this is personal. But it’d been eating me alive, not knowing when and how they made contact. What had he done to her? Had he touched her?
My knuckles are turning white as I step out of the car quickly to beat the driver in opening the door for her.
Granted, her clothing is a stark difference from the usual members at this hotel. And yet, I’d have her no other way. My gaze lands on the edges of her breasts that the zipper is barely keeping in. Fuck Layla for tormenting me like this. As petite as Elanee is, she always had curves.
“Looks like that child won’t be the only one giving you a kick to the head today,” she clips after noticing my gaze.
I smirk, these moments of seeing her spark to life feeding my thirsty beast as if I’d been parched all these years without her. And I’d rather her smart-ass retort than the sheer terror I saw on her expression six weeks ago.
I take her hand and leave the luggage with the concierge.
“I can still walk on my own,” she whisper shouts as I escort her to the front desk.
“I’m a man no longer in my prime, remember? Perhaps I need your help to walk; surely, you’re not so cruel?” I chide.
She huffs, infuriated, and I hate the way that the men are looking at her when we walk in. Now, I’m doubly not impressed by Layla’s choice.
We approach the marble counter where the receptionist is standing behind it, and I notice Elanee peering at to the giant chandelier and appreciating the design of the entrance. She’d always been infatuated with intricate details, especially when it came to architecture. Had she not been a dancer, I imagine she might’ve taken another route. One I now wish she had because if going to Russia for ballet was what had her mingling with my father, then I would’ve stopped her from ever leaving.
It had been the only time I’d willingly let someone or something go. I was never making that mistake again. She might’ve hated me and thrown a drink in my face before we graduated, but it was for her sake that I agreed to let her go. I was the selfish bastard who wanted her to stay but never said so and instead made it very clear I never had any intentions of touching her. Of course, it was a lie.
“I have a room reserved for Hayden King,” I announce.
I can sense Elanee’s eye roll. Maybe those few drinks on the plane really did shake her because I had only seen snippets of the old her then, but right now… it feels like nothing has changed.
“Right away. Here’s your key and everything has been prepared.” The woman greets me with a bright smile.
“Make sure we’re not disturbed. And we’ll reserve the restaurant at seven.”
“Of course.” She dips her head elegantly, and her quick gaze flashes between Elanee and me as we leave the front desk, card in hand. Elanee flinches when I grab her hand but doesn’t move hers from mine. I know she wants to rebuff me, but even then, I notice it gives her slight ease.
“King? Really?” Elanee says.
“Felt appropriate,” I say matter of fact. She rolls her eyes this time as a staff member hits the button to the elevator, and we wait for it to open. I notice how she searches the lobby as if we’re being followed. Even when we step into the elevator, she warily stares between the closing doors as if she’s waiting for someone to jump out.
“No one is going to hurt you here,” I remind her and rub my thumb over hers.
Her breath hitches and she looks up at my side profile. Those big brown doe-like eyes drink me in as if I were a mirage. “This feels surreal.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “I’m very much real, Elanee.”
A feint color flushes her cheeks. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Use your charm on me. You know I hate it.”
But her body has always said otherwise. I lower our entwined hands instead, reminding myself that I shouldn’t be so forthcoming. I wasn’t a good man, nor could I make up for the damage my father had caused her.
My father had broken my mother into a million pieces and now I was reliving it all over again. Why was I still not strong enough to protect my mother or Elanee even now? I had more wealth and influence than I knew what to do with. I’d partly become a monster to face a monster, but it still wasn’t enough.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she says.
“Like what?” I ask as we hit the thirtieth floor.
“Like I’m going to disappear.” And she says it in a way that I know it’s her own insecurity bubbling to the surface—our mutual fear.
“But you already have once,” I quietly remind her. It immediately takes me to the night before she left for Russia and how our friendship ended.
The doors part and her breath is shaky as she retracts her hand and looks toward the penthouse.
I’m a selfish prick. Even in this dire situation I can’t help but take my hurt out on her. And I hadn’t even meant to. But I drink her in as she steps out, watching that tight leather ass move side to side. Her eyes widen as she takes in the splendor of the penthouse and its unique marble design. The entire place is built like a Greek temple of sorts, with large white pillars and furniture laced with gold. The ceiling -all doors are open, removing any barrier onto the terrace and pool, allowing a cool breeze to sweep through, the sun shining in brightly.
In front of us is a large daybed with wooden pillars and a pool on the balcony that overlooks the city in the distance.
“This is beautiful,” Elanee breathes and it’s my girl again. She has only ever been strong and opinionated. Forceful and regal in her ways. And she’s still in there.
“Is there anything else you need to make tonight more comfortable for you?” I ask.
She bites her bottom lip and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I need slippers.”
“Slippers?”
“The Velcro ones that can be wrapped around tightly. I don’t like anyone seeing my feet,” she says quietly.
My eyebrows furrow. I’d seen her feet numerous times during her harsh routines and training, but I nod anyway. Anything to make her more comfortable.
“Thank you,” she whispers and looks back toward the view.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fish out my phone.
Layla: Checkpoint.
Me: We’re not in a game. But we’ve arrived as well. I’m not leaving you in charge of clothing choices ever again.
Layla: *Smirk Emoji* I don’t know why it bothers you. I wear those kinds of clothes all the time.
I don’t reply.
Layla: But in all seriousness, keep her safe.
I pocket the phone and admire Elanee as she peers into the pool.
She freezes when a buzz hits our intercom.
“It’s okay. I organized attendants,” I say to put her at ease. Their identification is checked before they’re permitted access to the elevator.
Elanee inevitably walks to my side, hiding behind me ever so slightly.
I thrive off it as much as I hate it. I would protect her to no end. But I hated that she now lives in a state of fear.
The elevator doors open, and three women and one male appear, all wearing black. I’m unimpressed to discover one of the pamper associates is a male until he flamboyantly says. “OMG, I’m so sorry we’re late! Now, who are we working on today?” He clasps his hands together excitedly.
His approving interest turns to me. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to kick his ass if he made the mistake of hitting on Elanee.
“My wife needs to be pampered before dinner this evening.”
“What?” Elanee shoots an incredulous look. “Shouldn’t we be doing… you know… other things?” I raise an eyebrow, and a blush streaks her cheeks. “You know what I mean, asshole.”
I bring her knuckles to my lips again. “We will, Cricket. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
But first, I have to have her treated and restored like a queen. She was broken in ways that I wasn’t entirely sure how I could piece back together. All I know is that she needed love and nurture, something my mother had taught me and how I’d aided her recovery as best as I could as well.
I wanted to give Elanee a few hours of peace before the horrors unfold, and I’m made to play the villain by forcing her to relive memories that most would’ve been crippled from.
It was a kindness before my cruelty.
All of which was for her.