25
Lucia
Lying on the cot, I stare listlessly at the ceiling in my room. The torn pants stay abandoned on the floor as I can’t knot them well enough to keep them hanging around my waist.
Without a phone or a TV, I’m forced to lie around with nothing to do, but pay attention to the thoughts haunting me. Until now, I believed Damien to have suffered the most brutal torture at Callum’s hands. His beautiful, angelic face was ruined to look like a beast’s and it was something he’d been cursed to live with for the rest of his life.
Leon’s scars run deep into his soul. Watching his brother’s face getting carved was a trauma he was still dealing with. Damien’s mutilated face is a constant reminder, haunting him every moment.
His obsession with the butterfly knife finally makes sense to me. Having it spinning between his fingers is a way of having control. He’s fine as long as he’s the one doing the cutting and stabbing.
Past memories fill my mind. Damien, Leon, and Mikhail were always together. They never let any jealousy come between them. Whatever they had, they always shared.
Even me ...I realize.
This was the very quality that attracted me to them. I yearned to be with them, hungry to be a part of their pack.
I have a chance now , I decide. But, how do I get through to them? How do I make them trust me?
Leon wanted me to witness the torture so I wouldn’t miss the monster that lurked behind his beautiful face. In a way, he wants me to know he’s worse than Damien, that I shouldn’t shun his brothers for the scars that mar his face.
I wish I could make him see that Damien doesn’t disgust me anymore. My feelings changed the moment I realized he was the boy I fell in love with.
The sound of a sudden click distracts me. Next second, the door is being pushed open.
Sitting up, I gather the blanket around my waist.
Lilja strides inside, her gaze immediately falling on the pair of ruined black trousers she’d loaned me yesterday.
“What the fuck did you do?” she mutters, moving forward to pick them up. Holding the trousers, she inspects the sliced waistband. “Do you have access to weapons?”
I scoff. “I’m not even allowed to have a fucking toothbrush here!”
She snorts. “Someone’s in a mood this morning. I thought all that whiskey would mellow you down.”
“Leon happened,” I say, frowning. “He...I...” I struggle to find a word that describes what he did to me this morning. Not only did he cut and stab a man before me, he even had me panting like a bitch before the bleeding, dying man.
Lilja’s expression turns grim. “What did he do?”
“He stabbed a man and slit his gut,” I say in a dead voice. “Then, we fucked.”
She sits down on the edge of the bed. “Too much for you to handle?”
“The act should’ve been the most shocking part but it isn’t,” I confess. “Leon’s trauma still haunts him. He hurts people to avoid feeling like a victim.”
“You understand him, then.” Her dark brown eyes gaze into mine. “No wonder they were never able to give you up. They’d rather do things the hard way than let you go.”
“They’re keeping me prisoner because they want me to hate them,” I say bitterly. “Sometimes, it works.”
She chuckles. “Come on. Let’s go eat breakfast.”
“I’ll have to wear that again,” I say, gesturing at the ruined trousers.
“Walk without them,” Lilja says with a wink. “My brothers will go crazy when they see you flashing those long, smooth legs to the rest of the men here.”
Would it matter to them at all? I wonder. At the very least, it’s worth a shot.
Lilja guides me out of the room and down a familiar path through a network of corridors. Just like she predicted, the guards patrolling the hallways stare at me.
“They rarely see a woman here,” Lilja whispers in my ear. “You’re like an eye candy on legs for them.”
My cheeks warm immediately. I stare at my feet, avoiding meeting the men’s gazes.
“You don’t have to be afraid of them,” Lilja says in a loud whisper. “I’ll tear off their nuts if they touch you.”
“You want them to hear you, don’t you?”
She shrugs and wraps an arm around me. A smile comes on my lips at the easy gesture. Lilja is the only person who can make me breathe free.
The smell of frying bacon reaches my nostrils as soon as I step into the vast kitchen of the manor. The table in the corner is piled with dishes of food but only one person sits before it.
“Morning, Princess,” Mikhail greets.
I gaze at him, taking in his baseball cap, glistening cross-shaped earring, and black leather jacket. He pushes a chair at me and gestures for me to sit.
The moment I get closer, his easy smile vanishes and is replaced by a scowl. “How long have you been walking around like this?” His steel-colored eyes gleam with suppressed rage.
The possessiveness in his gaze sends my heart pounding.
“Blame Leon,” Lilja says loudly, munching on a strip of bacon. “He left her like this. She’s lucky he spared her sweatshirt or she’d be flashing her boobs to all the guys out there.”
“What?!”
“You’re such animals you wouldn’t even let her have fucking clothes,” Lilja says, her voice heavy with disdain.
“And a toothbrush,” I mutter, keeping my gaze low. “I would like a toothbrush too.”
“She’s not a cat, Mik,” Lilja says exaggeratedly. “She can’t lick herself clean. You’ve gotta get her some soap and shit. And some fucking clothes. Geez! Even criminals in jail get those for free.”
I want to hug her and kiss her this very instant. She’s the best friend and sister I never had.
“Here,” Dora says and thrusts a plate of scrambled eggs before me. “Help yourself to the rest.” She gestures toward the dishes on the table.
I look at the food before me. There’s a mountain of pancakes, a dish of fried bacon, and platters of cut fruit. The aroma of coffee hangs over the table, attracting my gaze to a silver coffee pot.
“I can eat what I like?” I ask, looking toward Mikhail.
He looks at me curiously. “Of course,” he says. “We might be assholes but we don’t want to starve you.”
He doesn’t understand my dilemma. Back at home, my breakfast always consisted of oatmeal and some kind of fruit. Things like French toast and pancakes were a rare treat.
This is the first time I’ve tasted freedom in a long, long time.
“What’s wrong?” Mikhail prods. He reaches out and lays a hand on mine. The heat of his palm sends a jolt through me, bringing me back to reality.
“Nothing,” I mutter, gazing at the lines of ink that spread over his fingers.
“We haven’t poisoned the food if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What’s that now?” Dora is at the table again and pouring coffee for me and Lilja. “You had no problem binging on bacon sandwiches and getting drunk here last night.”
Grabbing a fork, I stab at a pancake and pull it onto my plate. Next, I pick up the bottle of syrup and generously drizzle the golden elixir on my pancake.
I groan at the first bite of the syrup-soaked pancake. It’s been a long time since I ate something that tasted so, so good.
“Like it?” Lilja asks, adding another pancake to my plate.
“Yeah. It’s so good. You’re a wonderful cook, Dora.”
An amused grin comes onto the elderly woman’s face. “It’s just pancakes, sweetheart.”
“I know but my brother rarely allowed me to eat them at home. If he wasn’t happy with me, he wouldn’t even allow me to have them on my birthdays.”
The table falls silent at my confession.
“Your brother didn’t let you eat pancakes?” Lilja asks, staring at me with a strange look on her face. “Why?”
I shrug. “He liked me eating healthy stuff. Bacon wasn’t allowed at all.” With that, I grab a few strips and put them on my plate. “Callum controlled my diet strictly.”
“Not any-fucking-more!” Mikhail growls, banging the table, startling everyone. Getting to his feet, he comes over to me and starts loading my plate with more pancakes and bacon.
“Stop!” I cry out, grabbing onto his arm. “I can’t eat all this food.”
He halts and stares down at me. A storm rages behind those gray eyes. “Eat,” he says, stalking back to his seat.
He fumes silently while I gobble the delicious food. The coffee Dora pours me is heavenly too. Or maybe I’m just ravenous after facing death over and over since last night.
“We’re going,” Mikhail announces as soon as my plate is clean.
“What’re you talking about?” I ask.
“You can’t keep walking around here with no pants on,” he growls. “I’m taking you shopping.”
“She’s not wearing any underwear either,” Lilja supplies helpfully.
Mikhail’s eyes widen comically. “That’s it,” he says, coming over to stand beside me. Grabbing my wrist, he pulls me to my feet. “We’re leaving now.”
“What will Damien say?” Lilja shouts after us as Mikhail drags me out of the kitchen.
“Just keep your mouth shut about it!” he hollers over his shoulder.