Chapter 45 – Vivian
I t stood to reason that after being roofied once, I would be used to being drugged and kidnapped. On some level, I was. As my consciousness came back online, I refused to panic.
The events of…last night? A few hours ago?
The events whenever were coming back to me. I lay perfectly still, reviewing them. The conversation between Camilla and the mobsters was a vivid memory now that the suffocating panic was no longer clouding reality. Luka was breathing, which was good. There was blood in his spit, so he probably nicked a lung. They were taking him to a trauma one ER.
Most importantly, they were leaving me. Little Brittany tried to hold me back. I was in shock. They said I would only weigh them down when they needed to focus on Luka. Someone told me to wait for Weston to give the all safe—whenever his guys cleared the problem in the ballroom—and then he could bring me.
But Weston never found me .
Because someone kidnapped me. One guess as to whom….
The surface under my head was soft. Something warm cloaked my body. I risked a peek—
And came face to face with my living, breathing nightmare.
“You’re awake!” Markem sounded relieved. He shot forward, reaching for me.
“Touch me, and I’ll break your wrist,” I groaned, pushing to sit up.
The bite in my tone made him pause. I’d never fought back. Well, it was time to change that. This terror wouldn’t win.
A quick glance around showed my parents’ home in the bougee Lincoln Park neighborhood. The wave of nostalgia was unexpected. It predated my parent’s death. The rare dinners we had in this living room, watching movies or playing games. My parents may have worked more than they were home, but when they had given me their attention, there was no ulterior motive.
I blinked—hard. I’m so sorry. The thought lifted high, hopefully going to the same place they were so they could hear it. How much energy I spent hating them after they died? It was replaced with Markem, but never left as I untangled myself from his web and saw him for the predator he was.
“Water,” I snapped, rubbing my throat. I was close to another migraine. The nap with the roofies pushed it off, but it was there, looming in the background.
I won’t let it. There was too much to do.
“Watch how you speak to me, young lady,” Markem sneered.
“Water or I vomit,” I countered.
Letting out a huff of annoyance, our family’s attorney shot to his feet and hurried to the kitchen. I kicked off the blanket, relieved that I was still in the dirty, ripped gown. The vermin hadn’t undressed me. The place where Cami cut the fabric to staunch Luka’s bleeding made my heart pang.
“You’re not allowed to die,” I hissed under my breath. A shuddering gulp of air filled my lungs. And then, with a huge effort, I pushed that away. If there was any hope of reaching Luka and telling him what I should have said days ago, I had to escape this hellscape first.
“So what’s the plan here, Markem?” I called out, my bare feet padding across the ground as I dogged him into the kitchen. I wasn’t a scared, lonely teen. I wasn’t an attention-hungry young adult. The fires of life forged me into a force to be reckoned with, and the day of accounting was here.
The attorney’s hands shook as he plucked a glass bottle of VOSS from the beverage fridge. “I have divorce papers drawn in the office.”
He paused, waiting for my reaction that I didn’t deign to give him.
“And then, you and I are going to sign marriage papers,” he asserted, shooting a glare in my direction. “We’re meant to be together, Vi-Vi. You put this off long enough.”
“Hmm….” I stalked around the marble island.
Markem watched me warily. This was new to him, my behavior. So far he was tolerating my defiance, but how long would that actually last? I couldn’t wrestle him to the ground and turn the bully into a sniveling mess like Luka did. No…I would have to bide my time and choose my moment.
As my gaze swept across the kitchen, a plan formed quickly. It was perfect. I could take control. I could end this nightmare.
I popped onto the counter beside the cook range. Pans dangled above my head. Décor artfully leaned against the tile backsplash. There was one piece that held both a useful cooking function and a deadly potential. I made no move for the wooden block holding slim pieces of metal. Not yet.
“My water?” I demanded, sticking out my hand.
The attorney rubbed the Botox-infused skin of his forehead, clearly annoyed and at a loss as to what to do with me. I snapped my fingers, making him grumble. He snatched the glass cylinder and handed it to me.
I cracked the top. After the lesson in Florida about sealed bottles being tampered with, I shouldn’t have drunk. But this idiot wasn’t smart. The water tasted like water, so I gulped it down. There would be no headache. Getting the drugs out of my system was imperative.
“Vi-Vi?” Markem leaned forward, trying to cage me with his body.
I gasped loudly, bringing the water down. “Damn, I was thirsty.”
“Vi-Vi? Say something,” Markem demanded. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you and me, Vi-Vi. I waited until you were properly grown up so no one can say anything, but the bond has been there since you were born.”
Tipping my head to the side, I bit out, “And you killing my parents?”
He paled. Actually paled.
“Didn’t think I’d find out about that one, did you?” I laughed roughly. “They were shit parents, but they were still my parents, Marky.”
“Vi-Vi! You don’t understand—”
“I fucking hate those names,” I spewed venomously. “It was just another pedo tactic! Using cute nicknames.”
“I am not a pedophile!” Markem seethed, hands fisting and no doubt ready to strike. “I never touched you.”
“How very fucking technical of you,” I barked a laugh.
With a flick of my wrist, I splashed water on him. He roared but ducked to miss the second splash. I snatched a chef’s knife from the block right next to the stove range, gripping it firmly as I thrust it forward. It slid right into the fleshy part of his stomach.
Just like butter.
Markem staggered.
Reaching behind me with lightning speed and plucking two more knives, I launched off the counter and was on him. “You groomed me, you sick fuck! I was a ticket to the life you wanted, and you preyed on me!”
I struck and struck again. Something unleashed deep inside. The fear festered long enough and now was a toxic explosion. In the flames of the blast was born a fiend. Fire seemed to fuel my veins.
Markem pushed at me, but I brushed past him. No hours at the gym or middle-aged testosterone supplements were stopping me. Not when I had knives in my hands! This nightmare had his reckoning, and I was the angel of my own vengeance.
“Die, you piece of shit, just die!” I screamed.
Stumbling, Markem lost his balance. That putrid piece of flesh crashed hard into the floor.
There wasn’t a second I stopped stabbing. I was a fighter, not a runner. It took Luka’s encouragement for me to see what I was capable of.
When a blade sank through his eye, Markem stopped twitching. I crouched over his form, breathing hard.
The victory that cracked through my chest needed an outlet. I gave into the primal urge, threw back my head, and screamed. It wasn’t a feminine noise of fear.
No…fear had no power over me.
When the echoes raced into the void and silence took up residency in the house, I looked at the mess. There was so much blood.
“Damn,” I moaned. That felt good. I can’t wait to tell Luka.
I stood, faced with the suddenly overwhelming truth of the situation. There was a security detail outside. It wouldn’t be easy to slip past them. but I had to try.
Turning around, my heart jumped against my ribs. The fright sent a ghost of a shriek past my lips, or would have if there was any air in my lungs. Two men stood just inside the doorway, guns lowered slightly as they surveyed the scene but still poised for action.
“She’s Luka’s other half,” Kazimir quipped quietly.
Dimitri nodded. “Come on, Vivian. They said Luka should be waking up any minute.”