Chapter 1 - Ava
I will never let you go, milaya.
I woke up startled, breathing as if I had run a marathon, clutching the sheets tightly as if my life depended on it. I closed my eyes. His voice, that deep, rich timbre, haunted me again, echoing incessantly in my ears.
Inhale.
I should have grown used to it by now — the nightmares that return from the past every night, as they always do. Sometimes I wished they were nothing more than nightmares, bad, horrible dreams that drenched me in cold sweat and gave me a headache every morning. But they weren’t. No matter how much I wished for it, I couldn’t erase the reality that it had happened.
The damp smells. The repeated drip, drip, drip in the corner of the dark room. The flickering dim yellow light bulb. The dark silhouette. And ghostly eyes.
Him.
All of it.
I remembered it as if it had happened hours ago, and just like the nights before, a cold, strange shiver ran down my spine.
Exhale.
I opened my eyes, but he refused to go away. The sinister crook on his lips mocked me and he whispered “milaya” in my ears, with that strong Russian laced in every word.
It didn’t take long after the night in the horrible basement cell, I heard his name. And I dreaded what it did to me. How I felt at the sound of his name.
Viktor Voronin-Varkov.
Even his name spelled terror like the evil that dances and lurks in the shadows, waiting to devour something.
I’d fallen victim to him once, but I couldn’t blame it on anyone. Not even him. I had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and gotten kidnapped by the notorious Rafail Varkov—Viktor’s boss. But I wasn’t the subject of the Bratva boss’s anger, and that left me in the hands of my biggest nightmare.
At that time, I had not given up hope because I knew that my father would free me from him. What I didn’t know was that physical freedom is no guarantee of total liberty.
He lived rent-free in my head for the last year, his words playing on repeat.
“Trust me, it doesn’t matter how far you run. I promise I will always find my way to you.”
I sighed, let go of the sheets, and rubbed my face to get rid of all the memories. After a quick shower, I grabbed a pair of ripped shorts and a bright pink Colorado High T-shirt.
I didn’t bother with my hair. I left my hair frizzy and let it fall below my shoulders. My friend Julianna once said I sometimes looked like Merida from Brave. I liked that. I thought her style was different and I could be just as stubborn and rebellious.
A harsh thump against the window caught my attention and my feet moved swiftly when I saw the flapping of wings. I lifted the window and stuck my head out.
An involuntary smile formed on my lips. The air smelled clean, and the breeze ruffled my hair. The view of the mountains surrounding Denver was breathtaking. The thump against the window was two house sparrows wrestling with each other. They carried their fight to a tree and disappeared among the branches.
The open, blue sky captivated me. The area was undoubtedly peaceful and serene. For less than twenty minutes it was a welcome distraction, but soon I grew weary of the sight and a quiet nudge spread through my chest. I missed the hustle and bustle of the city.
I missed New York.
Another sigh.
I pulled my head in, closed the windows, and let myself fall back onto the bed, my arms splayed out like angel wings on the sheets. Moving to New York had been Dad’s idea. I remember being hesitant at first, but now I missed the view of the Empire State Building on random drives and the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Ava, honey?” Ma called from downstairs, and her voice pulled me out of the pool of memories that was quickly forming.
“Don’t you want breakfast?”
“Coming!”
I took my weight off the bed and hurried down the stairs. The smell of waffles, bacon, and sausages hit my nose and my stomach grumbled in response.
It was good to be back in Denver, to spend a few days with my mother ...
“Hi, Ava,” Dae waved over a cup of one of his famous herbal teas.
And of course, I loved spending time with him too. My stepfather, Dae Hyong-Kim. Even as I walked over to join them at the table, I wondered—for the millionth time—how they fell madly in love.
Their differences stood out like a flaming red arrow in a barn full of hay—stark and obvious. He was half-Korean and half-American, and Ma was Irish by birth. He was a night person and Ma was a day person. She liked coffee, he preferred tea. The only thing they had in common was a healthy diet. I had never seen a couple as different as these two.
“Good morning, Dae.” I picked a strip of bacon, slipped it into my mouth, and moaned. It was super delicious and just the way I liked it.
Judging by the taste, I instantly figured out who prepared it.
I gave him a subtle sideways glance. It wasn’t hard to see why my mother had chosen him. He was always super nice, very compassionate, and tender, and once I heard Ma say to her loquacious friend Erika that he could ride like a horse. I had tried not to imagine it.
I liked him too. He tried out all kinds of roles, now that I thought about it: father, friend, brother, distant relative. And I liked that he respected me.
On top of all his outstanding qualities, he was very handsome. I liked to think that I might like older men with striking qualities because he was a good example. However, this theory was not proven or anticipated.
Ma leaned over to his side, kissed his cheeks, and peered at him under her long thick lashes. They whispered between themselves and, I might have gushed at the crimson stain on my mother’s cheeks, but ... she was my mother. It was almost disturbing to see her like that.
It wasn’t rocket science to know why she blushed like a shy teenager. Dae rode like a horse last night.
“You like it?” He nodded to the fourth breakfast sausage I’d popped into my mouth with a knowing smile.
Before I could say a word, she beat me to it. “Of course, she’s lovin’ it. Look at her.” She clasped and curled her fingers around her mug, and stared at me like she knew something I didn’t. “I’m glad you’re stuffing your face, sweetie. I bet your dad doesn’t care if you’re eatin’ healthy.”
I almost choked on a chunk of waffle going down my throat, and it wasn’t because my mother insinuated that my father wasn’t feeding me well. It was what she called me that got my attention. Shortly after my father freed me from the clutches of the Varkovs, I’d checked out the meaning of what Viktor called me.
Milaya.
Sweetie.
“Are you okay, honey?”
I blinked and stared at my mother’s hand, stroking mine. There was worry in her big brown eyes as she scrutinized my face. I had been sucked back into the past. I gave her a small smile and gulped down the waffle with a glass of freshly squeezed oranges.
“I am, Ma.” I rubbed her hand and withdrew mine. I shot her a half-playful look. “And Dad feeds me well.”
The doubt in her eyes flickered for just a second before she returned to her youthful blush. One of her hands lowered to Dae’s thigh and I forced my eyes to look up.
“I am happy you’re spendin’ time with us, though.” She smiled and dropped her mug. “It takes a lot of written applications to get you here.”
“Oh, Ma ...” I knew where this conversation was heading, and it was heading there very fast. “Don’t exaggerate.”
She shrugged her shoulders, brushed her long brown hair behind her ears, and leaned forward. As far as looks went, the only thing I had in common with my mother was a small nose and perfectly proportioned lips. My father and I had everything else. Well, except for his temperament.
I always thought I had better control of my temper.
“Okay, maybe not written applications but... you know what I mean, sweetie. When was the last time we talked about it, I don’t know. Everything? We haven’t gone shopping in a year, I don’t know what career path you want to choose, I don’t... I don’t even know if you have some boy—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” I raised my hands and heat crept up my neck. Dae might be nice and all, but I didn’t think I was comfortable talking about boys with him in the mix. And the more she talked, the more I realized my Ma and I lived in different worlds. She wanted a normal life for me, but she didn’t know that I couldn’t have that. That wasn’t an option for me. Not anymore.
Dae was about to say something when an abrupt knock on the door stopped him.
Ma went to the door to open it, and the sight of the familiar face in the living room was further proof that my life was anything but normal.
I was shocked to see him, but regardless, I offered a welcoming smile. Ma didn’t.
The tall blond with his overwhelming presence—and strong perfume—entered the house, the soles of his polished derbies thudding on the carpet. When his ocean-blue eyes settled on mine, he grinned.
I blushed.
“Dae. Maeve,” he greeted my stepfather and my mother, his eyes still fixed on mine. A warm, familiar tingle made my toes curl and I looked away.
“Declan.” She breezed past him, frowning as she stood next to my barstool like a guardian angel trying to protect me at all costs. But she didn’t need to protect me from Declan. With me, he was as harmless as a puppy.
And quite handsome too. With just a smile, a thousand ladies would swoon and fall at his feet. With a snap of his fingers, he could command any woman he wanted, any day, any time. I saw it with my own eyes, one night at my father’s club.
It had been an accident. I wasn’t supposed to be in that room when he snapped his fingers and had some red-haired stripper drop to her knees between his legs.
The point was, that Declan O’Malley had the potential to have the world at his feet, and even if he didn’t look like some drool-worthy Roman god, his I.Q could be considered as sexy.
Ma cleared her throat, and the sound cut through the silence like a knife. “What brings you here?”
That caught my attention. I turned my head and glanced only long enough to hear his response. What was he doing here?
He gestured toward me, cutting to the chase. “Ava.”
One word. One solid meaning. I understood it clearly, and so did Ma and Dae. The only problem was ...
“No.” Ma shook her head. “No, no, no, Declan.”
He remained standing in the middle of the room, and his presence made everything else seem dainty and small. The smile disappeared from his face and the blue in his eyes became even more intense. It didn’t matter that I had only spent eighteen months with him in my father’s mansion, I knew him well.
Declan had different shades, and like a chameleon, he changed color when the situation called for it. He had his gentlemanly fa?ade, but on more than one occasion I’d seen the rogue who got his hands dirty without batting an eyelid.
“Maeve...”
“Cian can’t do this.”
“He can.”
My mother was fuming. She and my father didn’t get along at all, and they never pretended to.
She blushed and stamped her feet. Dae had to stand by her to calm her down. “He can’t. She’s only been here two days. He promised us two weeks.”
“And now it’s time for her to go back.” His tone was devoid of any emotion. “He sent me here to escort her safely back to New York. Thats his order. And we both know how he reacts when his orders are flaunted.”
I knew. I’d seen firsthand what my father did to those who disobeyed him and, being the second in command, Declan knew better than anyone else that no one could stop me from going back with him. But I had a deeper worry on my mind. If Dad had sent Declan all this way to bring me back, it meant something had gone wrong and I might be in danger.
I ate the last of the waffles on my plate and kicked the stool back. The sound of the chair legs scraping caught my mother’s attention. The lines in her cheeks diminished and a sober look came into her eyes as she turned to me.
“Sweetie,” ah, not this word again. She held me gently by the arm and stroked my hair behind my ears. “You don’t have to go with him. You can stay here with me. Dae has scouted out many places to sightsee. I have this lovely dress in Erika’s dress store that I’d love to buy for you. We …”
“Ma.”
Tears formed in her eyes, and I hugged her tightly. I didn’t know when Id see her next, and even though I didn’t want to leave, one look at Declan told me I had to. When we broke away from each other, I wiped away the tear on her cheek.
“I’ll be fine.”
After a long and hard stare, reluctantly, she nodded. I faced Declan.
“I’ll be down in twenty ...”