Dmitri
Chapter Eight
M y wedding plans with Lara would have to be put on hold until she learned how to obey me.
I thought for sure she was finally breaking when she submitted to my kiss, but I was wrong.
Watching her touch herself had undone me but hearing my name from her lips was the nail that made me lose control.
Still, her refusal had to be dealt with.
There was no way I could have a disobedient wife on our wedding day.
As much as it pained me to leave her in the torture chambers, I would do whatever I had to, to make her agree to marry me.
After ten days with very little food and water, I thought for sure she would give in.
She was a lot stronger than I first thought.
I was a patient man and soon she would break.
As if on cue, Stepan entered my study. “We have one of the men from the warehouse ready to question. Do you want me to move the girl?”
“I think it’s time for my kukolka to get a taste of what happens to those that disrespect me,” I replied as I stomped out my cigar and rose from my chair.
Even though Lara wouldn’t be able to see me torture the man who might have betrayed me, she would be able to hear his pain. It would be enough to give her the incentive she needed to accept my marriage proposal.
I follow Stepan downstairs past the wine cellar, making sure to grab a bottle of 2003 Chateau Lafite Rothschild and a clean wineglass on the way. I always enjoyed a glass of expensive wine during my very persuasive interrogations.
When I walked past the cell Lara was being held in, I took a moment to check in on my kukolka.
She huddled in the corner on the thin mattress, wearing only the bra and panties I’d provided since taking her from her Boston life.
With only water and bread to eat, I could see she had lost weight.
Her curves were still there, but less prominent.
I hated seeing her like this. Hopefully soon she would see things my way.
I handed Stepan the wine bottle and glass before opening the door of Lara’s cell.
Once inside, I lowered my body to her level and examined her frail state.
When her eyes met mine for a short moment, I felt remorse.
The green luster was gone and so was the fire they once held.
Even so, she was still breathtaking. Dirt and sweat along with her matted hair covered her face, and filth covered her skin.
As she turned away, I ran my finger down her cheek and hooked it under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Such a strong woman. You will never win, kukolka. Are you ready to obey me? To be mine.”
“Yes.” She replied weakly, her eyes filled with tears.
“Good girl.” I kissed her on the forehead and turned to Stepan. “Our prisoner will need to wait. I’m taking Lara upstairs.”
“Yes, sir.” Stepan nodded his head as I lifted her from the filthy mattress and walked past him.
~***~
I took Lara to my room and carefully placed her on the toilet while I filled the large tub with water and added some lavender foaming bath oil to relieve some of the aches and pains from her body. Removing her bra and panties, I picked her up and gently placed her in the tub.
Squeezing a healthy amount of body wash on a bath sponge, I took hold of her arm and began gently rubbing away the grime from the cell I held her captive in. She had such beautiful skin—untainted, pure.
Lara looked at me, her eyes hooded with exhaustion. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because your father took something I loved from me, so I am returning the favor. He needs to suffer the way I have.” I continue my care without any other explanation.
“Why now? My papa is dead. How is taking me going to make him suffer?”
“There is no evidence that he’s dead, kukolka. ”
After I got all the dirt and grime washed off Lara’s body, I reached into the shower and turned on the water. While I waited for the water to get to the perfect temperature, I stripped out of my clothes.
“Like what you see, kukolka ?” I asked with a grin, seeing a hint of that fire coming back into her beautiful green eyes as her eyes lingered on my naked body.
Filled with embarrassment, she turned her head away, avoiding me altogether. Walking over to the tub, I lifted her out and held her close to me. “You are going to have to get used to seeing me naked, especially since I’m going to be your husband.”
Lara tried to squirm from my hold, but she was too weak. But when I pinched the soft flesh on her inner thigh, she held still.
The spray of water felt good against my skin, but what felt even better was holding Larissa close to me.
Setting her down, I turned her toward me, before moving her under the rainfall water head.
While she stood beneath the water, I squeezed a healthy amount of my shampoo in my hand and worked it into her golden blonde hair in a thick lather.
“Tip your head back,” I ordered her so I could work the lather out of her hair.
As she tipped her head back, my eyes fell to her body, taking in every inch of her perfection. And to think that soon this would be all mine to do with as I pleased. I washed and rinsed her hair again, ensuring all the grime and dirt from the past two weeks was gone.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it securely around my waist. Lara’s eyes were on my chest as water droplets ran down the ink before being absorbed by the towel.
Without warning, she placed her hand on my chest and traced the intricate tattoo of swirling roses and drops of blood along the right side of my chest. When she lifted her head and looked up, there was something in her eyes that broke through my hard shell.
I couldn’t let this woman get to me. She was the enemy.
Drying her off, I lead her out of the bathroom and into my master bedroom. She was going to be my wife, so it was only fitting that she shared my bedroom. After grabbing a soft white t-shirt from my closet, I ordered her to get on the bed. She obeyed me with no backtalk.
Even though there was nowhere for her to go and nothing for her to get into that would aid in her escape, I still needed to show her who commanded her. Retrieving a set of handcuffs from the bottom drawer of my dresser, I walked over to my king-sized bed and sat beside her.
“This is to make sure you don’t do anything foolish,” I said as I snapped one cuff on her wrist and the other on the headboard of my four-poster bed.
“But what if I need to pee?” she asked, pulling against the cuff.
“Yuri will be standing right outside the door. Yell for him and he will uncuff you.” I kissed her on the forehead before pushing off the bed. “Marta will bring you something to eat.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have something to take care of. I won’t be long.” I kissed her on the forehead again, guilt burning inside me when I left.
~***~
“You have been quite the busy boy,” I remarked, gently lifting Drago’s bruised and bloodied head, the result of the relentless beating he had suffered at the hands of Stepan.
The metallic scent of blood permeated the air as crimson rivulets trickled from his battered face, cascading down his bare chest to pool on the cold, unforgiving cement floor between his trembling legs.
“I haven’t done anything, Mr. Antonov,” he stammered, his voice quivering as the blood continued its relentless journey, staining his skin and the ground beneath him. “I would never betray you.”
“There is one thing I despise more than a thief. Do you know what that is?” I fixed my gaze on him as he weakly shook his head, a silent plea in his eyes.
“It’s a liar. You can choose to tell me what I need to know and receive a swift death, or I can extract the truth from you slowly and painfully. What will it be, Drago?”
Turning my back to him, I approached the wooden table behind me, fingers curling around the hilt of my favorite knife.
Its blade gleamed wickedly under the dim light, sharp as a razor, precisely how I preferred it.
Pouring myself a glass of deep red wine, I took a slow, deliberate sip, letting the rich flavor linger on my tongue as I savored the torment and uncertainty etched on Drago’s face.
Fear was a powerful, intoxicating thing.
As I turned to face him once more, I noted with disdain the dark stain spreading across his trousers.
Why did they always have to piss themselves?
“Tell me who you are working with?” I commanded.
“I’m not telling you shit,” he mumbled defiantly, drool mixing with the blood that painted his chest in an even, relentless stream.
“That, my friend, is not what I wanted to hear.” I pressed the tip of the blade against his right nipple before dragging it in a precise, unerring line across his chest to the left, leaving a thin trail of crimson in its wake.
“Ugh. You motherfucker,” he growled, pain and fear splashed across his face.
I knew Drago had leaked information about the shipment arriving at our warehouse, enabling our enemies to strike with precision.
He had been a trusted ally for years, and it was difficult to believe he could turn against me.
Yet, the evidence was damning—another shipment vanished under his watchful eye.
“Give me a name and this could end,” I demanded, the cold steel of the knife glinting in the dim light as I twisted it in my grip. I seized his greasy, matted hair, yanking his head back with a force that exposed the sinewy tension in his neck.
“Keep your eyes open. There is a bad grape among the vines,” he taunted, his voice a rasping chuckle as he spat a mouthful of blood onto the stained floor, the crimson droplets splattering like dark rain.
In one fluid, resolute motion, I drew the knife’s blade across his throat with precision, slicing from ear to ear.
His eyes rolled back in a grotesque dance, and a torrent of blood erupted from the severed arteries, cascading down his chest in a ghastly waterfall.
Though he withheld a name, his cryptic warning told me enough.
“Have one of the men clean this mess up,” I ordered, turning away from the lifeless body. “Bring the car around. There’s someone I need to see.” The urgency in my voice cut through the room like a knife, as I knew the path ahead was now clearer.