Chapter Eleven
“Shhhh, don’t cry, little whore,” he whispers. “It’ll all be over soon.”
His words are sharp, cutting into my skin the way he ruts into my body without my permission. Icy blue eyes flash above me, tangled with desire and malice.
I open my mouth to scream, to cry, to beg; I’m not sure. But nothing leaves my throat. The pressure of his body on mine is too much. I can’t breathe. My lungs struggle as I try to find my voice. Only I never do.
The scent of alcohol and cigars whirls around me, stemming from his dark black hair, I think. It’s hard to think when it feels like the entire room is closing in on me. I look around, finding several pairs of eyes staring back at me. Watching as this man takes my innocence. As he steals it from me.
One pair of eyes stops me in my tracks. The dark bronze in them is highlighted with excitement. My high school boyfriend. My first love, the man who brought me here tonight. To this party. I skipped my family’s birthday dinner celebration so I could be here. All because I thought he loved me.
Scalding tears run down my cheeks. It all just hurts so much. I slam my eyes closed, unable to face this reality any longer. My mouth mumbles, praying to the saints for help. But they’re nowhere to be found. All too keen to look on as this depravity takes place.
“Watch her,” the man above me says to the room. “Watch and learn how to please a woman, boys. This is the lesson you’ve all been waiting for.”
“Yes, sire,” the chorus says.
Every boy here is from my high school, all four of them. I don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Who is this man on top of me? He’s older than us. By at least a decade, if not more.
Keeping my eyes shut, I stay still until it finally ends. The stranger gets off me, slapping my cheek a little as he does.
“You were a tight one,” he says, his words making me feel even dirtier. “A perfect one. Lucas,” he calls.
“Yes?” my boyfriend answers.
“You’re next since you were the one to bring us our virgin tonight.”
My eyes pop open. I open my mouth. “N-no,” I stutter. “No.”
Lucas laughs as he stalks closer to the bed. “Do you think I don’t know what that means, Vivienne? When girls say no, they only mean try harder.”
More tears fall down my face. My heart falls into a pit of despair and terror. The stranger claps Lucas on the back.
“Go ahead, son. Fuck her like I did. Make her like it.”
More tears fall down my face as Lucas climbs onto the bed. My hands are spread wide, tied to opposite sides of the bed. I can’t move. I can’t fight. I can’t do a fucking thing but lay here and take it. There’s a hatred in Lucas’ eyes I’ve never seen before. It chills me to my bones. I scream and scream for help. Plead to the other boys in the room, but they silently wait their turn.
I sit up in bed, my mouth open on a scream. My heart pounds in my chest as I take in my surroundings. I’m in the same bedroom Mrs. Volkov gave me last night. I’m safe. It was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare.
“I thought I was done with these,” I mutter.
It’s been two years since I’ve had one. I thought I was cured. Of course, I always think of the man who took my innocence, but I prefer not to dream of him. Not to relive that despicable moment.
“Please let it just be the stress,” I say as I climb out of the comfortable bed.
The last thing I need right now is for my past to come back to haunt me.
Early rays of sunshine filter through ornate curtains, lighting up the bedroom I was given. The cream-colored walls make the room airy and light. A stark contrast from Kaz’s bedroom. It’s welcoming. So much so that I could almost convince myself I was just a guest here and not a captive thousands of miles away from home.
A bird flies by the window, squawking with every flap of its wings. The ominous black bird stands out amongst the sea of white snow. After my nightmare, it feels like an omen of what’s to come.
It’s a lucky thing that I’m strong and resilient. I’ve already been through hell and back twice over. There’s not a damn thing the Volkovs can do to break me. Though, if they were smart, they’d realize I don’t know a goddamn thing about their filthy money. Thomas was a mark, an easy kill. I didn’t rob him. I didn’t ransack his house like the guys claimed. I don’t know what’s happening, but whatever it is has nothing to do with me.
There’s a knock at the door. The quick succession of knuckles against the heavy wood distracts me.
“Come in,” I call.
Yvonne pokes her head in. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
Mrs. Volkov opens the door, her hands holding folded clothes. She reminds me of my mother. Sweet and helpful with an edge. Even in the early morning, her gray hair is perfectly styled. She’s wearing a red pantsuit that screams ‘boss’. I was concerned about her safety when I first saw her last night. About how the brothers treat their family. If what they did to their father is true, I can’t imagine they’re family men. But then I saw how she took charge, and all the brothers listened. Even Mikhail.
“I found some stuff that might fit you. Some of my old stuff,” she says, laying the clothes on the bed I just climbed out of.
“Thank you, Mrs. Volkov,” I reply sweetly. It’s not her fault that I’m trapped in this pretty cage.
“Call me Yvonne, dear,” she says, not for the first time. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
She raises an eyebrow. But I’m being truthful. Short of some bruises and scrapes from last night, I’m unscathed.
“Okay,” Yvonne relents. “Breakfast is ready for you downstairs when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
Her heels click against the dark, hardwood floor as she retreats to the door. “Of course, dear. It’s the least I could do after my boys treated you like a common thief.”
That’s exactly what they think I am. They’ve got it in their heads that my brother wants their power. Which is actually kind of ridiculous. Declan is happy with what he has. Especially since he married my mother’s assistant. He has no use for this frigid country or its power. I don’t say anything to Yvonne as she closes the door. I’m not sure how much she knows about her sons. Does she know what business they’re in, or does she think they’re insurance salesmen? That could be why she feels so comfortable bossing them around. She has no idea that any of the three could snap her neck with little effort. Trust me, I felt Kaz’s muscles when he fought me the other night. He’s not lacking whatsoever.
Looking at the folded clothes on the bed, I unwrap them. Yvonne gave me a pair of leather-looking leggings with a chunky off-shoulder cable knit cream-colored sweater. A new pair of panties fall out as the leggings come undone. My bra is also clean and, thankfully, not soaking wet with melted snow.
Compared to the other times I’ve been kidnapped, this is like staying at a resort. I remember the first I was taken, I was barely twenty, and my father had just pissed off some kingpin from another city. The guy thought I’d be an easy mark to get back at my father. He kept me in a moldy basement with a bucket to pee in. He wasn’t a smart man because the moment I smiled at him, he untied me and found out what kind of girl I really was. I rescued myself before my father could. He was so proud he took me for ice cream that day.
I pull the leggings on. They are tighter than I thought, making me feel like Yvonne never dresses for comfort. I love sexy clothes as much as the next girl, but sometimes you just need sweatpants. Slipping the sweater over my head, I admire how soft it is. Cashmere, if I had to guess. The sweater dips slightly, just enough to show a hint of cleavage.
The bathroom is just as luxurious and airy as the bedroom is. Once I’m finished in there, I lean over the marble counter to wash my hands. I catch my reflection in the mirror. My dark hair is rumpled with sleep, as if I’ve been sleeping for days and not hours. I find a brush in one of the vanity drawers. Running it through my hair quickly, I smooth it out as much as possible before leaving the bathroom. The only shoes I can find are some ballet flats. They happen to be just in my size, but I didn’t see Yvonne bring them in. I guess they could be left here by another guest.
I’m quiet as I open the bedroom door. It’s heavy as I pull it back. I expect to see a bodyguard, maybe two, standing there, but there’s no one. That’s surprising. I’m a captive; shouldn’t they want to keep me in?
Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whatever game they’re playing will come to light soon enough. Until then, I might as well see what the day has in store for me.
My steps echo as I descend the grand staircase. The hollow sound reverberates around the Volkov’s lavish home. I cast my gaze around since last night I was too busy running to take it in. There’s expensive art on the pale walls. Priceless vases are displayed on stone pedestals. Luxury seeps from every corner of this mansion. Though it feels more like a fa?ade.
The size rivals my own family estate, but there’s one key difference. Our estate feels like a home. It’s warm, filled with laughter and love. Occasionally, a little violence, too. But the Volkov estate is missing that. It feels empty. The house feels like a shell devoid of happiness. It feels more like a museum than a home, a curated collection of wealth and prestige designed to impress rather than comfort.
I pass by the living room. The white furniture is so clean, it’s almost sterile. Does anyone live in this place? The house is quiet as I move through it. It’s strange that the Volkovs would let me walk around here so freely. But then again, I’m in another country; there’s nowhere else to go. Not unless I want those wolves to eat me.
My ballet flats scrape against the wood as I walk. The deeper I get into the home, the more opulent it gets. They really like their toys.
“Vivienne,” Yvonne’s voice calls. “In here.”
Her words are coming from behind a pair of white doors. I push them open, finding Yvonne and all three of her sons sitting at the table. When she invited me to breakfast, I assumed it would just be the two of us. Instead, this looks more like an interrogation than a meal.
“Please, take a seat,” Yvonne says from beside Kaz.
She gestures towards a chair directly across from Mikhail. Unease unfurls in my gut as I lower myself into my seat. The oldest Volkov and I haven’t officially met. You wouldn’t know that from how his eyes swallow me up. There’s a layer of heat in them, with a sprinkle of distrust. Smart man. I’m not one to be trusted.
The dining room doors open again, revealing two housekeepers. They’re both older and probably have been working here since the boys were little. Each of them gets started passing out the plates.
“Thank you,” I murmur when one of them sets mine down before me.
She smiles. “You’re welcome, honey. Enjoy.”
“Thank you, Clarissa and Claudia. I’ll have the boys clean up. Why don’t you two go take a rest.”
The women nod before leaving, and the door swings shut once again, leaving us in a tense silence.
Kaz stares at me, openly admiring my boobs. I roll my eyes, but I don’t say a damn thing. If I’m going to get out of here, I’m going to have to exploit his attraction to me. Dmitri sits next to Mikhail. He’s the one I’m most worried about. I can see the loathing in his eyes. He doesn’t like me. Not even a little. Or if he does, he’s good at hiding it. He looks mean, like he should be in charge instead of Mikhail.
His gaze is intense. I drop my eyes to my plate, taking in the French toast topped with strawberries. My stomach growls. It’s been forever since I’ve eaten, and suddenly, I feel starved. Before I can take one bite, Yvonne breaks the silence.
“So, who wants to explain why you kidnapped Vivienne?”