Chapter 7 #2
“About forty seven miles outside of New York City,” I respond truthfully since that’s how far my parent’s mansion is from the city.
He bobs his head as he takes a bite of his bacon. “I know there is someone out there that’s worried about you since you two are technically missing.”
He has no idea.
Especially since I don’t have my phone and didn’t wear my wrist communicator that has an embedded tracker. I’m sure Raevyn has already found the wrecked rental car, the bodies I laid waste, Roman’s blood, and has the SRU running a search party.
I place my fork down beside my plate, losing my appetite.
“I’m sure my brother will be once we wake up,” I respond, resigned.
The last time I saw Roman was from the image Vladmir showed me in his office the other day.
He was in a hospital bed, unconscious, his face drained of its color.
I’ve never seen my brother in such a vulnerable state, he has always been able to bounce back.
It breaks my heart to know that this is the only way I could save us both was by signing my whole life away to the Russian Bratva.
An enemy of the Syndicate.
Fine, not my whole life, but it will be a year at most in this hell hole. Unless my family finds me sooner. Mom has connections with overseas organizations. It’s an entire international network, I’m sure I’ll be saved sooner than later.
Hopefully.
But what about the contract?
“Well,” he says with fresh energy, shaking me out of my thoughts. “We are your new family in the meantime. Your mother, Sorcha, and your two sisters, Lilith and Viessa, are out of the country right now. Lilith is having our second grandson or else they would be here having this meal with us.”
So, there is a missus. Is she ok with how coarsely I was shoved into this family? That I had no choice in the matter?
“But don’t worry, your husband-to-be should be here any minute. We have to memorialize this moment, why not now?”
As if announcing the foul ogre, on cue, he strides in with arrogant confidence and a —
“Morning father,” he says from the opposite end of the table with a thin, barely wearing any articles of clothing, redhead walking beside him.
Who is she? His girlfriend or his escort?
Don’t get me wrong, I have worn my fair share of risqué outfits but that was for the stage only. Not to wear around the house and definitely not in front of the head of the Bratva.
Ms. Streetwalker has on a sheer, sleeveless white bodysuit.
It’s so sheer you can see both the red bra and thong matching set beneath.
The red six-inch, buckled high heels are ridiculous and scream of dungeons and whips.
The only compliment I can give to her is her hair, it’s red, wavy and cascades down to the middle of her back. Not a split end in sight.
Good for her.
She could work on the perfume though. It smells like cheap seduction wrapped in sweet-powdered lies and dipped in hunger for power.
Nikolai and the escort come closer towards us. She sways her hips and purses her red lips.
Did she just air-kiss me?
Ok, so she’s audacious and instantly annoying. Both are characteristics she happens to share with Nikolai.
Nikolai pulls out the second seat next to Vladmir.
“Oh, thank you honey. You’re such the perfect gentlemen,” she says, smugly, staking her claim on Nikolai.
Ugh.
Honestly, there’s no competition here, she can have him. He was never mine to claim in the first place. Besides a man will never be worth fighting over .
Nikolai takes his seat next to his father and they are damn near identical but with drastic differences. Where Vladmir is clean and pristine, Nikolai is dark and jagged. They both give off this potency of dominance, this lethal force. Yet there’s something soft underneath it all.
It’s disorienting.
“Of course, Quinn,” he tells her with a forced gentleness and then turns his steely silver eyes on me. “Morning Aspen.”
My name coming out of his lips coats my body like second skin, it clings to me, spreading warmth I’m not ready to unpack right now. His eyes scan me from my face to the hand gripping the side of my plate. My skin pebbles with his scrutiny, it’s heavy and it feels as though its weight will crush me.
I clear my throat and turn to face Vladmir. “Mr. Volkov—”
“Nonsense Pen, call me father, dad or Vlad,” he beams, his focus locked into what I’m going to say next.
“Vlad. Could I be excused? I must have eaten something that doesn’t agree well with me,” I say clutching my stomach.
I need to get out of here. Between this strange excitement from Vlad, the sex dungeon model and the stare down from the sadistic gremlin, I can’t stomach another moment here.
“Oh sweetheart, it’s because you’re not used to,” Quinn waves her hand over Nikolai’s covered plate, “such rich ingredients. If you are going to marry my man, you need to learn some etiquette. Become more…classy.”
“Excuse me bit—”
“Quinn,” Vladmir cuts me off with a tone icier than Scandinavia in February.
I would know since I almost lost my toe due to frostbite when I went skiing in Norway a few years back. Let’s just say I learned quickly how hard frost can bite.
“If you want to be able to continue to use that rancid tongue within the next few seconds,” Vlad continues, poison layered into each word he spews out, “then you will be mindful of your next words. I don’t think your father would mind you missing a certain muscle.”
Vladmir’s shoulders go rigid, his jaw set tight, his molten silver eyes focused ahead. He didn’t even look at her when he said the threat.
Silence wraps us all in the breakfast hall and fear whispers in my ear like an old friend, telling me not to move and to hold my breath. Even the wind whipping past the greenhouse window doesn’t dare to make a sound.
I turn to look at Nikolai, surely, he will stick up for his escort. He doesn’t. He looks at me with curious, chilled eyes.
I take a moment to study all of us, my survival skills telling me to assess our current dynamics.
Ok. Vladmir forcefully corrected Quinn, Nikolai doesn’t defend her. Vladmir displays interest in me, interest in my comfort and is pushing me to look at him as family.
Does that mean—
“Vlad,” Vladmir’s eyes slide to mine, softening, no longer murderous.
“I really have lost my appetite. Could you,” I pause, testing my theory out.
He tilts his head forward, encouraging me to continue.
“Could you take me back to my room? The four guards you sent with me were pretty rude and a bit rough when handling me earlier,” I finish, waiting to see how he will respond.
He clamps his jaw shut and Nikolai fists his hands .
“Jeffrey, Bryce, Adam and Cyran,” he says, straightening in his chair, never taking his eyes off mine.
The four soldiers straighten up against the wall near the buffets and walk toward us, stopping directly behind Nikolai and Quinn. Both Vladmir and Nikolai move with such swiftness, I don’t see when they pull their guns out.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
They were all headshots.
Four seconds later, two heads explode. They’re the soldiers Nikolai shot.
Vladmir kept his eyes on me the entire time. I refuse to look away as the scent of copper and wolfsbane fills the air. He stands from his chair, facial expression blank as he stretches a hand out to me.
I take it on instinct.
My mom showed me how cruel vampires can be. And when one is as vicious as Vladmir, you take the kindness they show you. Kindness and the show of affection is in short supply in their world, so you better take it when they give it to you.
“Niko, clean this up. Pen suffered enough this morning don’t you think?” He says while shielding my vision of the dead soldiers.
I chance a look back and I see Quinn has lost all her color, blanched from the impromptu slaughter.
When I glance at Nikolai, there are bits of flesh decorating his hard face that’s void of any emotions.
Alarm bells ripple throughout my body, telling me that this man is truly dangerous and to not to show fear or run.
Because like all predators, he will hunt me down, and I can’t risk what he would do when he captures me.
Would he destroy me with his hands, his gun or his shadows?