55. Kaz
It’s wellpast midnight when we arrive at the house, one of Dedushka’s safe houses. He gave me the address after some searching. He doesn’t seem very sane these days. The house stands in solitude amidst the woods, its rich brown color contrasting with the dark trim around the windows and door. Its imposing two-story structure lacks a driveway, but the porch catches my attention with its line of rocking chairs facing the alluring view of the surrounding woods.
We’ve lost three men—two of them shot in the room, and another one. I press Dmitri’s shirt against my wound as I step through the heavy oak door, noticing the upside-down M as the head knocker. The house’s interior is impressive, boasting hardwood floors and black paneling covering the walls. The furniture comprises dark, grand pieces with intricate carvings and detailed designs. I approach the living room, where a large stone fireplace immediately catches my eye. Exhausted, I collapse onto the black leather couch just as Vanya enters.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“I got shot,” I state the obvious. “Bring me something to remove the bullet and patch myself up.”
“Do you want me to call the doctor?”
“Can’t. No one else needs to know about this place.” I reply. Vanya nods and leaves to find a first-aid kit. Soon enough, he returns.
“Thanks,” I say as he hands me a bottle of whiskey. “Where’s Caelia?”
“She’s handcuffed to the bed,” he responds while I remove my shirt.
“For fuck’s sake, Vanya!”
“I wasn’t in the mood to chase her through the woods. Don’t worry, she’s fine. She also thinks I don’t speak English and talked my ear off,” he says. I laugh, feeling the ache in my body intensify. “Now, lie down.”
Taking a sip of whiskey, I stretch out on the couch. “Did she say anything interesting?”
“No, just boring stuff. She doesn’t think we should have left you alone. She misses you now that you stopped talking to her,” Vanya reveals. His words puzzle me. Why would Caelia confide in him while refusing to speak with me? “It’s good that we killed Ludovic, but we should have tortured him a thousand times worse.”
“Why?” I narrow my eyes at him as he disinfects the tweezers and clamps scissors, preparing to tend to my wound. I hiss in pain when he probes my injury, searching for the bullet.
“It’s not my place. She shared those things with me in confidence, you know?” Vanya grins.
“The Ivan doesn’t speak English confidence?” I question.
“Exactly.”
“What did she tell you?” I ask, realizing that Vanya is purposely being less careful with the tweezers in his hand.
“Mattia watched as Ludovic raped her multiple times.” My fists clench, and my jaw tightens as I think of all the men who hurt her. I vow to find each and every one of them and make them pay for their actions, assuming they aren’t already dead. I will make them feel the pain that Caelia endured. My heart pounds in my chest, and my hands tremble with rage. That she told Vanya, a stranger, while refusing to trust me with this information infuriates me. “We will get every single one of them.”
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll return to Moscow. It’s not safe for her here,” I decide.
“You need to talk to her,” Vanya insists. This is a strange request coming from him. I try not to provoke him. I’m uncertain why Caelia opened up to him when she refused to speak with me.
“You think I haven’t tried?”
“Stop moving so much. Try harder, Kaz. Just fucking try, all right?”
“Are you warming up to her?” I smirk.
“Hell no! I think she’s been through enough and deserves to know that someone is on her side, even if that someone is a sick bastard.”
I can tell he’s lying. I don’t know what else Caelia told him, but his attitude toward her has changed. I had doubts when I asked Vanya to protect her instead of Domenico, knowing she would feel more comfortable with her Italian friend. But he will stay here, and she won’t have anyone back home. She must make friends if she doesn’t want to lose her sanity. I’m not Mattia. Despite my threats, I will not strip away everything from her and confine her to a room. I won’t forbid my employees from speaking with her.
“She doesn’t want me by her side. I’ve fucked up.”
Focusing on the physical pain allows me to momentarily ignore the shattering feeling inside me. It seems I can’t make things right with her, no matter what I do.
“Apologize. You couldn’t have done something worse than what others have done to her,” Vanya advises.
No. I did exactly what my brother did before me, and now I want her to trust me and speak with me. It won’t be easy, and I fear what will happen the next time my patience wears thin.
“Apologize? Who the hell are you?” I retort.
“She prayed for you. Anyone who prays for you has my respect,” Vanya taunts. “Though it seems like wasted prayers to me.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your opinion,” I snap back.
“Here, I’m done. I think you might need this,” Vanya grins, retrieving a key from his back pocket. “She’s upstairs.”
I understand why he handcuffed her to the bed. I might have done the same, but I can imagine it only pissed her off even more.
“Thanks. Make sure everyone is accounted for, and don’t wake me up unless you have to.”
My vision blurs as I stand up. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve apologized to Caelia, and I don’t think it has done me any good so far. I’ve apologized for things I didn’t even do, yet she still stabbed me.
I need a moment to familiarize myself with the layout of the house. I’m tired of being in unfamiliar places. Before seeking Caelia, I decide to take a shower and change. She won’t be going anywhere. Opening five doors, I finally locate her. A floor lamp dimly lights the room, and she lies in the middle of the bed, her body curled uncomfortably with her hand cuffed and bent at an awkward angle, the restraints digging into her skin.
As I touch her wrist and free her hand, Caelia stirs. Her eyes widen in fear before she understands what’s happening. She rubs her wrist.
“You’re alive. What happened?”
“Don’t be so disappointed, solnyshko,” I smirk, lying on the bed. “Nothing happened. Everything’s fine.”
Instead of responding, Caelia surprises me. She moves closer, slipping one foot between mine, her arm resting on my abdomen, and her cheek against my chest. She fits perfectly, and I can’t let her go. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, taking advantage of her sleepy, confused state. I don’t know when she’ll allow me to touch her again, but it’s all I can think about. Her bruises have turned yellow-brown, and most of the swelling has subsided.
“Undress,” I growl.
I remove my T-shirt as panic crosses her face.
“What are you doing?” she questions.
“Undress, Caelia. If I ever see you wearing another man’s clothes, I’m going to bury him alive.”
She raises an eyebrow, looking at me as if I have lost my mind.
“Vanya borrowed me a T-shirt and some shorts. You’re being irrational.”
“Do you want those as well?” I stand up, unzipping my jeans. I stand before her in nothing but my underwear. Her cheeks flush, even though she’s seen me naked countless times. “Here. Take them.”
“Have you lost your mind?” She questions me when I lay my clothes on the bed, crossing my arms, waiting for her to get rid of my cousin’s clothes.
“I’ve never been sane to begin with.”
Caelia scoffs before grasping the edges of her T-shirt, maintaining eye contact with me. Without warning, she removes it and throws it in my face, her eyes focusing on the dressing on my shoulder. She doesn’t inquire about what happened. Standing on her knees at the edge of the bed, she stares defiantly at me. My heart rate slows as I observe the bruises on her body. It infuriates me to think she wasn’t wearing anything under Vanya’s T-shirt.
I swallow, my throat feeling parched. Caelia places her hands on the sides of my pelvis, tilting her head back.
“Can you please make me forget?”
“Tell me what you want to do, and I will do it.”
“You won’t like it.”
I didn’t want to give her space, but I knew there was no other way. I would give her anything. She just has to ask.
“Tell me what you want from me, Caelia.”
Her fingertips graze my skin so lightly that I can barely feel the touch, but it’s there.
“I want you to lie down.”
She licks her lip, retreating into the middle of the bed. I do what she wants. She has never regarded me with such distrust, not even when she mistook me for my brother. Taking a deep breath, she comes closer, straddling my lap. If she lowers herself an inch more, she’ll see how hard I am for her. She doesn’t. She takes the handcuffs I placed on the nightstand.
“Give me your hands,” she instructs.
I know I’ve honestly lost my mind when I extend my hands, placing them together for her to handcuff me. My gun lies within her reach. I have to trust that she no longer wants to see me dead.
She’ll always be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. No matter how many others I encounter, none will steal my breath away as she does. Caelia takes my wrists in her hands, lifting my arms until they meet the bedpost, the same place where Vanya handcuffed her. The bed frame, made of metal, seems designed to keep someone captive. She handcuffs me without hesitation, turning me into her prisoner. Taking a moment to study my face, she lowers her hips onto my dick. Her eyes close at the contact, and I groan as my dick throbs painfully with need as she rubs against it. Caelia places one hand on the side of my neck and the other on my cheek, leaning closer. Her lips are so close I wish I could wrap my hand in her hair and crush them against mine. I close my eyes, waiting for her to kiss me, noticing a second too late that her weight is gone. My eyes snap open.
Caelia is now wearing my T-shirt, a devilish grin adorning her face.
“Don’t, Caelia,” I warn, my jaw clenched.
“I have to,” she replies before bolting out of the room.
No, she doesn’t have to. She wants to drive me mad.