Chapter 25 - Sasha
Chapter twenty-five
As soon as the door slams behind Lucy on her way out, I flop onto my back and stare at the ceiling, mind racing a thousand miles a minute.
Fuck, I thought I could stay here with her.
That was obviously never going to happen.
Seeing her curled up, cozy and asleep in our bed, made me want to pretend.
Pretend that everything that happened today was a nightmare, and we could just wake up tomorrow and continue with our happy little life we’ve just begun to build.
But I can’t trust her, and even if I choose the immediate gratification of giving in, I know it will hurt more down the road when she lies.
Or whenever I inevitably find out what information she’s been feeding to Lawrence.
My anger hasn’t cooled since our fight, galvanizing instead to something worse that feels like a cancer fused to my spine.
Rage, nausea, pain, betrayal…all rolled into one insidious package.
There’s no way I’ll sleep well tonight, especially not without Lucy in bed with me.
I can’t…I’m not sure how to move on from this.
My first thought was revenge, to stay here and make her life miserable until she feels a fraction of the pain she’s caused me.
But seeing her tonight, peaceful, was only a reminder of what she fooled me into thinking I could have.
No, there’s no way I can live in the cottage anymore, even to torment her. Tomorrow morning, I’ll tell Blanche something has come up with the business that requires me to go home. Lucy can stay here and keep up her slutty charade without getting anything else from me to pass to Lawrence.
Unless…I could move out of the cottage and stay somewhere else.
Close enough to continue working for Blanche but far enough away not to smell Lucy everywhere, reminding me of what I’ve lost. Standing from the bed, knowing I won’t get any sleep tonight, I turn the damn fans off and pace.
That’s exactly what I’ll do. It would be too easy on her, me leaving.
Even if she never cared about me enough to miss our quiet moments in the cottage, I can still make her life hell with my presence.
My plan solidifies as I send a few texts and email Blanche a meeting request for tomorrow. Dawn breaks, and I feel ready to step out of the cottage for the last time. As soon as I gather my things and say goodbye to my Sunshine.
She’s curled up on the couch under one of her garish blankets, brow furrowed in what seems to be a fitful sleep.
This is the last moment the two of us will ever coexist peacefully, and I take my time to feel everything, inhaling and releasing a deep breath.
The person I loved didn’t exist, and this human shell that looks like Lucy is just an impostor. If Lucy is even her real name.
Making my way to the kitchen, I turn on every light and start making one more cup of coffee for her, banging every pot and pan I find in the process.
Her favorite mug mocks me, and I wait for her rumpled figure to appear before launching it at the wall beside her head.
She shrieks and ducks as porcelain fragments scatter, and when she stands again, I can see my wake-up call was successful.
“You son of a bitch! What is wrong with you?” Her shrill voice is music to my ears as I make her coffee.
Smirking, I can’t help but tease her. “Good morning to you, too, Sunshine. I didn’t want you to miss your coffee before I left.”
Her blank stare is delicious as I hold her coffee out, but she makes no move to take it.
“I can’t stand the idea of living with someone who lies so easily, so I’ll be moving out today.
Before I go, though, I wanted to give you one last chance to remove yourself from this state and our lives.
I told you it won’t be pleasant to stay here, and I’m not sure you’re fully understanding how serious I am. ”
I let her see every ounce of what I am. Murderer, assassin, hitman, fixer, bratva heir.
All of it. Every bit of ruthless, bottled rage that I’ve kept tamped down while mingling in polite society.
The half of me that’s a reasonable man is real—a thoughtful, if pessimistic, soul.
But the half of me that’s been molded from a young age to take over the family business is another beast entirely.
I knew it had been too long since my last kill, and look now.
I’m tipping over the edge. My uncle Pavel always told me that emotions and softness were poison in our business, and it was better to harden yourself early and never let a woman get in your way.
He never went longer than a month without getting his hands dirty, and now I can see why.
Lucy physically shrinks away from the gleam in my eye, and nausea rolls through me. She shouldn’t be scared of me…of course she should be scared of you. I smirk, crowding her against the counter and invading her space.
“If you show up to the next scene, make sure you read your script very well, Sunshine. I’ve been meaning to tell Blanche that I miss taking a more…
creative role at Rendezvous. I’m going to ask her for more input moving forward.
” I back away, grabbing the few things I care to take with me as I head for the door.
“And, Lucy…based on what Blanche has told me about Henry’s proclivities…you might want to read up on sadism. For starters.” With a last taunting grin over my shoulder, I revel in her ashen face before slamming the door behind me.
After a brief run to blow off some steam and a call with Dad to express my need for some work before I go any crazier, I manage to make my meeting with Blanche just in time.
“Darling! I was surprised to see your meeting request in my inbox from the middle of the night. Is everything alright?”
Okay, Blanche clearly isn’t pulling any punches today. That’s fine. She can keep her shrewd gaze on me all day long. I have nothing to hide. Technically.
“It’s nice to see you too, Blanche,” I say, earning a chuckle from her as she hands me a tea cup and saucer. “I hope you don’t have email notifications on. I didn’t mean to wake you. But, as I’m sure you know, we don’t choose when the muse strikes us.”
Her eyes light up as she leans toward me conspiratorially. “Some of my best ideas have been during the witching hour. My dreams have often led me down creative paths I never would have taken otherwise!”
“This wasn’t a dream, exactly. More like a daydream. I feel less creatively fulfilled lately. I think possibly the lack of directorial input that I had when we were at Rendezvous is starting to stifle me.”
She hums noncommittally, still assessing me with the gaze that I’m sure makes lesser humans cower. “You did have some very innovative ideas when we worked together at the club,” she concedes.
“I’m not saying that I haven’t been enjoying your writing and direction, I have. But I remember you telling me about some of the less…conventional encounters that you and Henry had, and I had the thought that maybe we’ve been playing it safe.”
A raised eyebrow precedes a delicate sip from her teacup before she responds. “Playing it safe? With the billiard room scene and the chase in the woods?”
I chuckle. “Alright, maybe safe isn’t the right word.
But the stories you told me about Monaco, the yacht, the basement…
I feel like perhaps we’re leaving things on the table that I would enjoy immensely.
We have lightning in a bottle now with the chemistry between Lucy and me, and I would hate to waste it. ”
At the mention of the basement, her eyes light up, and she blushes.
“Oh, you weren’t supposed to remember me telling you about those!
Henry was almost too voracious in those early stages of our relationship, I must say.
” She sighs wistfully, and her eyes flick to a framed photo on her desk.
“But, in the end, every single act was so tantalizing and exhilarating that we felt closer together than ever.”
When she finally looks back at me, I can see that I’ve won.
“Anything that Lucy wants to explore is fine with me. The disclosures need to remain the same for legal purposes, of course.”
“Of course,” I reply with my most charming smile.
Blanche gazes at me wistfully. “You really do remind me of my Henry, you know. Something about that twinkle in your eye that shines every now and then.”
I wonder how many men Henry killed in his lifetime to earn his twinkle.
Deciding to push just a bit and see how far I’ll be able to go, I try to steer her farther down memory lane.
“Did you have any…specific favorites? From the darker interests that you and Henry explored over the years?”
A thoughtful hum, another sip of tea.
“Well, I kept him bound and gagged and invited all my former sorority sisters to peg him for our fifth wedding anniversary.”
She cackles as I spit into the side of her desk, choking for air as the mint I had been swallowing floods my nasal passages.
“Oh, dear. I forgot that Lucy wasn’t interested in other women joining. But you can’t fault her for wanting all the cocks to herself!”
I forgot how unhinged conversations with Blanche can be. There’s no way there’s nothing illegal brewed in this tea…
“We had a year where we heavily played into ownership and degradation. It was heady, dangerous, thrilling…he had carte blanche and took full advantage of it. Things that I had originally not been interested to try like needles, body modification, waterboarding—”
“Waterboarding?” I hate to interrupt a woman when she’s speaking, but that’s a new one.
“Can’t say it was my favorite,” she says with a grimace.
“But it was certainly an intense experience. The point is, that year we explored and I felt absolutely pushed to my limits by Henry and his demands of me. By the end, we had added a number of things to our usual rotation and a few things to the now-and-then list.”
I’m contemplating how Lucy would look with my name tattooed in block letters when Blanche speaks again, in a softer, more serious tone.
“Forgive me for imposing, Sasha, but we are technically family now,” she says.
I forget this terrifying woman is KitKat’s mother-in-law. Jesus.
“Will you be able to run the ship, so to speak, if I’m away next week?
I have pressing business that will leave me without stable cell service, but I don’t want to halt production for so long.
As you reminded me earlier, you have plenty of directorial and production experience at the club, so I was hoping you could fill in for me to keep things moving along. ”
Oh yes.
“I’ll be happy to, Blanche. Things will run so smoothly, people might not even realize you’re gone.”
Except Lucy. My pitiful little liar will definitely not benefit from the lack of oversight.
The list on her next script will be exhaustive and explicit, but she won’t know which combination I’ll have planned.
With the go-ahead from the boss, there’s no reason to hold back.
I may be rusty, but I’ve tortured plenty in my day.
Time to see how far my Sunshine will go before she gives up and goes home.
I doubt even her light will be able to withstand the darkness I’ve been holding back.