Chapter 10Zane
10
Zane
I know enough about Monroe to know she’s not a threat. I didn’t think she was, but it pays to run background checks on people you’re not already familiar with. That’s what I was doing when she was in the bathroom.
As for Maksim’s sniper, I can’t say for sure that he doesn’t exist. I mean, he certainly could, and that’s good enough for me. As long as I can convince Monroe to come to my house and stay there for a while, I’m golden.
Sometimes, a little white lie is necessary in the grand scheme of things, even if my ultimate goal is to build trust. I can do that without words. Skin to skin. Body to body. That’s how trust is really built. It’s something you feel in your soul, not in the logical part of your brain.
Monroe is smart, but she still has the same emotions and feelings as anyone else. I know that because I saw how her eyes grew when I touched her arm. She responded to me, whether she wanted to or not. I felt her heartbeat pick up, her pulse quicken.
It was exhilarating.
I haven't felt something like that in years. The last time I was really interested in someone was... Well, it was a long time ago. And things didn't end well. I've learned that emotional attachment is the quickest road to misery, so I'm going to avoid it. I want her to feel something, but I must remain emotionless. Falling in love once before was a mistake.
I'm not letting that happen again. Monroe is going to be my plaything, and I'm going to use her to get the information she saw on the flash drive. It's the only option I have left, assuming she hasn't forgotten everything already. Stress can wipe out memories and make foggy replacements, but I won't know how well Monroe remembers things until she opens up.
I have time. About a month before things start to get crazy and Tema is going to start asking questions. As long as the money is good, he's not going to care how it happened, only that we both get paid what we deserve. That's the only important thing in all this.
My car pulls into the parking garage under my house, and the gate rolls closed behind us. This place is as secure as they come. There's a whole underground world beneath my house, which I can access through the basement. That's where the real fun is.
"This is where you live?" Monroe asks, her eyes widening as we take the elevator up to the ground floor. Her eyes widen even further as the doors open and we step out into the marble hallway.
"This is where we both live now," I say, taking her hand and walking with her down the hallway. "Let me show you around."
Her hand fits perfectly within mine, despite being so small. My fingers are long, wrapping around her hand like a bear trap. She's delicate, and her skin is soft and smooth, unblemished by any scars or callouses. I almost feel guilty for holding her hand, like I'm leading an innocent soul straight into hell.
"It's so big," she says, gazing around at the high ceilings and ornate chandeliers hanging above us. "How long have you lived here?"
"Only a few years," I reply. "My previous house wasn't quite as big, so I decided I needed a new place. Something more impressive, with a few more luxuries. What's money any good for if you don't spend it?"
"Or invest it," she adds with a knowing look in her eye.
I shrug. "It's a little difficult to make the right investment choices without enough information. Maybe you can help me out with that."
"Maybe once I'm comfortable here, I will," she replies, leaving it as open-ended as she can. I know she's willing to reveal what she knows, but it won't be so easy. She's used to being comfortable, and I've taken her away from that. It's only natural for her to be wary, to want to settle back in before she tells me anything of value.
I lead her through the kitchen, past the dining room, and toward the stairs.
"Is that a library?" she asks, her eyes lighting up. as we pass an arched doorway.
"It is. Would you like to see it?"
She nods. "Please."
"I'd rather show you the bedroom," I reply. "I have a bathing suit there for you already. We could take a swim in the pool."
"Just for a moment. It's so beautiful," she says, hanging on the doorway like I'm going to yank her away from it. "Maybe I'll agree to the pool thing after you show me your books."
"It's my pleasure," I say, nodding and leading her toward the library. I didn't expect her to be interested in books, but maybe it's a good thing. She'll be less likely to cause trouble if she has something to read.
I let her walk inside ahead of me. It's been ages since I've shown anyone my private book collection. There are thousands of titles, most of which I've read. Some of them are in Russian, but most are English. I've spent a lot of time polishing up my language skills.
"Wow," Monroe says, her voice echoing around the massive room. There are bookcases built into every wall, and each is filled from top to bottom with hardbacks. "Are these all yours?" she asks.
"Every single one. I have a system of organization, so you can feel free to browse as much as you'd like. Most of the books have been read, but a few are still waiting," I reply, watching her wander around the room. She reaches out and touches the spines of the books, admiring them like they're paintings instead of just text.
"So beautiful," she says.
"They are," I agree, stepping up behind her and placing my hands on her hips. Her curves are addicting, and I find myself quickly forgetting about why she's really here. I just want her. I want her so badly that it hurts.
I slide my hand around her waist, pressing against her midsection and pulling her back into my body.
She gasps, leaning her head back and gazing up at me with those wide, beautiful eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Just holding you," I say.
"Why?"
"Because you're gorgeous, and I like touching you. It makes me feel good," I say, moving my lips down toward hers.
"Stop," she says, putting a finger up between our mouths. "I've already told you, that's not happening. I don't want you."
I chuckle, shaking my head. "I've seen the way you respond to me. You can't lie. Your body is telling me everything I need to know."
"The only thing you need to know is the information on that flash drive," she snaps, pulling away from me and frowning. "And you're not going to get it by acting that way. I want safety, and I don't feel safe with you acting this way. I feel like you're trying to take advantage of my situation, and it's disrespectful."
She says that like I would care about the rules and moral codes regular people abide by. But I'm a Bratva boss, as ruthless as they come, and she needs to learn that. She might think she's special, but she's not.
"I could have taken advantage of you already," I reply, stepping toward her again. "But I didn't. I let you change into that robe, and I brought you here. I have shown you more hospitality than I should have. If you want me to treat you like the other men would, you are welcome to go home and die."
She pulls away from me, shaking her head in disgust. "You're a monster."
"A monster who's offering you safety instead of letting you die."
"Only so you can get information out of me. Otherwise, you'd leave me to Maksim."
I laugh dryly. "Do you really think that's the type of man I am?"
She crosses her arms, glaring at me. "Absolutely."
"You're wrong, Monroe. So wrong," I reply, leaning back against a bookshelf. "But you'll see. I'll show you what you're missing once you reveal that information to me. I could give you the world."
"I don't want the world. I want my house, my old life back, and I want to be normal. None of that is possible with you," she says, her voice turning from an angry growl to a desperate plea. She's mourning the loss of her previous life, but there's nothing either of us can do to get it back. That chapter is over. Her new life is with me.
"Don't worry, darling," I say, stepping toward her and brushing her hair back over her ear. "I'll take care of you. Come. Let's get into the pool. You'll feel better once you're in the water."
She sighs, relenting and allowing me to put my arm around her and guide her back out of the library. We walk silently to the bedroom. Even though she's upset, I want her. I've never felt quite so obsessed with anyone, but I can't stop thinking about how she would look in that bikini.
Meanwhile, she's suffering, and I'm the one who did this to her. I twisted her life into a nightmare, and now I'm trying to get her to sleep with me. It's bizarre just as much as it is natural for my cruel heart.