Chapter 26
S amara
My head rested against his chest. I could feel the vibrations of his steady heartbeat but couldn’t hear it. There was nothing but an ungodly rushing sound in my ears, as if I were underwater. My body was both numb and sore at the same time.
Afraid to stir, I stayed unnaturally still, waiting, for what I didn’t know.
Finally, Gregor moved. Sliding out from beneath my bent leg, he kicked off his wrinkled suit trousers and padded naked across the room to his walk-in closet attached to the bathroom.
Like his chest and arms, his back was covered in colorful tattoos, one blending into the next.
A twisted kaleidoscope of religious symbols and macabre images.
Beneath all the color was nothing but hard muscle.
Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the overwhelming memory of his heavy body pressing mine into the bed.
He returned wearing a worn pair of grey sweatpants low on his hips. Crossing to the bed, he pushed a lock of hair away from my cheek. In his hand was a wet washcloth.
“Lean back.”
My cheeks heated. Reaching for the washcloth, I protested, “I can do it.”
He shifted his arm away from my grasp and raised an eyebrow.
Resigned, I fell back onto the pillows. A cool rush of air kissed my heated skin as he pulled the gold satin coverlet away. My arms crossed over my breasts and my knees bent up.
His large hand slid down my thigh, then applied pressure till I opened my legs.
Turning my head to the side, I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes tight as waves of mortification rolled over me.
Using the soft washcloth, he caressed me between my legs and over my inner thighs.
Wiping away all traces of blood and our mutual arousal.
Returning to the bathroom, he discarded the washcloth and crossed once more to the bed.
Running his knuckles over my cheek, he said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
I swallowed but said nothing.
Waiting till I heard his retreating steps down the hall, I lifted my arm and stared at the ring on my right hand.
It was massive. The center princess cut diamond had to be at least ten carats.
Two five carat, step-cut emeralds flanked it on either side of its platinum setting.
The ring befitted the wife of a powerfully rich man.
The future Mrs. Gregor Ivanova.
Oh God. What had I done?
Panicking, I tried to pull the ring off my finger. It wouldn’t budge. The diamond setting scratched my fingers on either side as I twisted and pulled in vain. My pale skin turned bright red and bruised, but the ring would not slide off.
I had to stop when I heard Gregor’s step outside the bedroom.
In one hand he carried two glasses half-filled with a clear liquid and a bottle tucked under his arm. In the other was a small, gold-rimmed plate stacked high with delicate pink swirls—Zefir pastries, my favorite Russian pastry.
He extended his arm, and I took one of the glasses.
“Thought you could use a drink,” he said with a twist of his lips.
Without pausing, I tossed back the vodka. The harsh liquor burned a path down my throat to settle uncomfortably in my empty stomach. My eyes watered as I tightened my lips and swallowed my coughs, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“Careful, little one, you haven’t eaten nearly enough to swill vodka like that.”
Defiantly, I snatched the second glass from his grasp and downed it before he could object.
Picking up one of the meringue cookies, he ordered, “Eat.”
Taking it from his hand, I gratefully bit into the chewy cookie, hoping the sweetness would dull the gasoline fumes from the vodka. As I chewed, my eyes wandered over his hips, to the outline of his still semi-erect cock as it pressed against the cotton of his sweatpants.
Jesus. I couldn’t believe that thing fit inside of me.
“And it will fit again and again and again.”
My jaw fell as I raised my alarmed gaze, knowing he had read my illicit thoughts.
The bastard winked.
Tearing at the coverlet, I tossed it around my shoulders and slid off the bed. “I… I… have to use the bathroom.”
Gregor nodded towards his closet. “Through the closet to the left.”
“No!”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Uh… no… I’d rather use my own,” I stammered as I tripped over the trailing blanket and backed away from him.
“You have two minutes.”
I nodded and turned, practically lunging for the doorknob of the connecting door. As I swung it open, Gregor repeated, “Two minutes, Samara. Don’t make me come and get you.”
Without turning, I nodded and crossed the threshold into my darkened bedroom.
Dragging the heavy coverlet, I walked past the bureau and searched the darkness for the white, molding outline of the bathroom doorway. Reaching out my hand, I swiped the light switch up.
Without warning, a large hand wrapped around my throat and yanked me backward.
My frightened scream was cut off when a second hand slapped across my mouth.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.”
I recoiled as my vodka-filled stomach clenched at the stench from the man’s fetid breath.
Gregor stormed into the room.
Breathing heavily through his nose, his fists clenched as his sides, he looked like the devil incarnate. I had only thought I had seen him angry in the past. It was nothing like now. He looked ready to tear the limbs off my captor.
Clawing at the hand around my throat, I tried to kick out, but the blanket tangled around my ankles. A sharp sting against my throat stilled all my struggles.
Gregor’s face paled as his gaze focused on my neck.
A trickle of blood itched as it dripped from the fresh wound.
Gregor’s hard gaze returned to my captor’s. “I was going to kill you but spare your family. Now everyone you love will die.”
I could feel the man’s head turn as he spit on the carpet. “Fuck you, Ivanov.”
The devil you know. The devil you know. The devil you know.
My frenetic mind just kept repeating the phrase. Gregor was the devil I knew, and now I desperately wanted to stay with him. Lifting my gaze, I silently pleaded with him.
Don’t let him take me.
Once again, like a mesmerist, Gregor read my mind. “No one is taking you from me, malyshka.”
There was the sound of splintering wood and broken glass from somewhere downstairs. Oh God, there must be more of them. My captor laughed, his rank hot breath making me want to vomit.
“There’s four of us and only one of you, Ivanov. We’re taking the bitch.”
Gregor took a step toward us.
The knife at my throat shifted. I hissed as another sharp sting of pain sent a shock up my spine.
The man cackled. “There’s nothing you can—”
“Am I interrupting?”
The dirty hand over my mouth muffled my scream as my captor swung wide.
In the doorway stood the man I met at the museum gala.
Dimitri, that was his name. He was leaning against the doorjamb eating one of the pink Zefir cookies.
Completely oblivious to the blood splattered across his white button-down shirt and tie.
“Correction. There were four of you. Now there’s just you. ”
Gregor grabbed him by the hair and ripped his head back. The man abruptly released me. I fell to the floor, scrambling to cover my nakedness with the discarded blanket at my feet. As I turned, I watched Gregor cock his bent arm back before punching the man in the throat.
My captor’s eyes bulged, and he grasped his neck.
As he stumbled backward, Dimitri raised his leg and kicked him back into the center of the room.
Gregor twisted his hand in the front of the man’s shirt and held him steady as he punched him again.
This time in the mouth. Dark crimson blood spewed from the man’s mouth as he tried to scream for help.
No one came.
Gregor struck him again and again.
There was a sickening crack as the man’s jaw shifted to an obscene angle before falling slack.
The man’s face was beaten to a bloody pulp as he laid curled on his side on the floor. His body twitched before blood-stained air bubbles foamed at the corner of his mouth. There was a strange gurgling sound, then the lifeless body pitched forward.
Gregor stood over him, breathing heavily as his arms stayed raised, fists clenched.
Dimitri broke the tense silence. “Vaska is loading the other three in the van. We’ll take them to the usual place.”
Gregor nodded. “I’ll meet you there.”
Dimitri’s gaze slid to my prone form as I huddled on the floor against the bed frame.
“Take your time. We’ll wait to start.”
He turned and left, leaving me alone with Gregor.
Gregor bent down on his haunches in front of me. He reached out his arm. I cried out and scuttled backwards on my ass till my back hit the wall. My horrified gaze shifted from his furrowed brow to his blood-stained hands.
In fact, he was covered in blood. Streaks of it crisscrossed his chest, and there was even a bloody handprint on his sweatpants from when my captor desperately reached out to try and stop the beating.
“Don’t do that again,” he warned.
This time when he reached for me, I stayed frozen in place. With a gentleness which belied the savagery I had just witnessed, he brushed my hair aside and inspected the cut on my neck. I bit my lip as even his light touch caused a painful, sharp sting.
Cursing under his breath, Gregor gathered me into his arms. As he rose, I grasped the edge of the blanket tighter over my chest. He had taken two steps toward the connecting door when Jim appeared. He looked disheveled and out of breath. His shirt was torn and his left eye swollen shut.
“Boss, I—”
Gregor didn’t take his eyes off me. “I don’t want to hear it. Put that piece of shit in the back of the Range Rover and wait for further instructions.”
“Yes, Boss.”