Malevolent King: Chapter 14

“Ican’t believe I’m sitting next to a real live prom queen,” Chiara cackled, leaning into me and knocking me to the side.

We were standing at the bar in an exclusive New York hotel, where the all-girls St. Teresa’s School and the all boys Francis Prep were hosting a joint prom.

I’d done it. Graduated high school. The sash felt tight around my chest. I fingered the satin fabric. No one had been more surprised than me to be crowned prom queen, but maybe that was dumb. After all, at St. Teresa’s, your father’s last name was the best indicator of popularity. Like Antonio De Sanctis would care that his daughter had been crowned prom queen. That wouldn’t buy anyone any favors, but then, most kids expected their parents to love them in some capacity. It was an expectation I’d given up long ago.

Antonio had nearly refused to let me attend. In the end, I’d begged to go. Thanks to my idiot cousin, the last traditional experience of high school had nearly been taken away from me. Last week, Silvio had been taken to the hospital when he’d gotten involved in some De Sanctis family business and lost a hand in the process. I’d believed the official line that it had happened thanks to a violent altercation with a rival family in Philadelphia until a few days ago. A special delivery box had appeared inside my locker at school. A small, shiny, gift-wrapped box.

I’d opened it, stupidly eager to get a surprise present, until the paper peeled back.

Silvio’s severed hand had been laid neatly on tissue paper.

Once I recovered from the shock, I’d chucked the box in the trash on a random street corner. If I’d told my father, he would respond to the perceived threat by keeping me locked inside Casa Nera forever, and I didn’t want that to happen so close to prom and graduation. It was crazy to keep it a secret, but I couldn’t seem to confess to anyone. I knew exactly who was psycho enough to arrange the hand on pink tissue so prettily. The truth was, in the darkest and most twisted part of me, I enjoyed being the center of someone’s attention for once in my life.

Chiara pressed a drink into my hand, a sickly-sweet fruit punch provided by the hotel.

I smoothed my dress, making sure that Chiara’s drunken exuberance hadn’t caused any unsightly bulges. Usually, I wouldn’t care, but tonight, I had something special on under my dress. I was all too aware of my garter and the blade pressed against my inner thigh. Yeah, it was crazy to bring a knife to prom, but then it was crazy to attend prom in the first place when there was a verified psychopath hunting you, a butcher who was capable of severing someone’s hand.

Maybe Niko wasn’t the only crazy one.

Our escorts were kids of other De Sanctis made men. My escort was Luca, an old acquaintance but not someone I knew particularly well. He was the right age and terrified enough of his father to behave, so he met Antonio’s requirements.

“Hey, the guys want to go to the after-party, are you in?” Luca appeared beside me, throwing a sloppy arm over my shoulders. I staggered under his weight.

“What about the dance?” I asked dutifully.

I glanced at Angelo, who was standing against a wall covered in twinkle lights, looking like the world’s most unimpressed pillar. The only sign he gave of being awake was the odd blink of his eyes.

“Fuck the dance. I heard the real party is upstairs.” Luca leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Room six-six-six.”

Sure, the dance was dull, but it was a prom. Smoke machine and a cheesy DJ, sweet punch and paper decorations. It was what prom was in the movies, and I didn’t have much normalcy in my life. It looked like I was the only one who felt that way.

Chiara bounced with excitement. “I’m in! Let’s go.”

“What about Angelo?” I wondered as my shadow caught up with us halfway down the shiny, marble hall.

Chiara’s date, Matteo, peeled himself off the wall and joined us, though Chiara didn’t give him a second glance. Her attention was on Angelo.

She turned, walking backward to take in the towering hunk of muscle and stoicism. “He can come with. Maybe a drink or two at the after-party will loosen him up a bit?”

Angelo’s eyes flickered to Chiara’s and away. I swear his neck turned a little red at her outrageous flirting.

“Come on, Sofia, what’s the worst that could happen?” Luca prodded me with an elbow before laying his arm over my shoulders.

Considering he had barely said two words to me all evening, it was a surprise. His breath smelled like vodka, and he was slurring slightly as he leaned on me. We got into the elevator, and Chiara pressed the button for level six before stepping closer to Matteo. He responded by tugging her against his chest and wrapping wandering hands around her middle. Chiara stared at Angelo, a smile playing on her lips.

I concentrated on subtly shifting Luca’s heavy arm from my shoulders without him noticing.

The elevator pinged, and we got out on the sixth floor. A beat of bass vibrated the floor as we walked toward the room at the very end.

“You know, I’ve heard of rooms in this hotel that are reserved for parties, rock stars rent them and shit. They are full of furniture you can break and extra soundproofed,” Luca said as we approached the door.

“Really? Which rock stars?” Chiara asked as she tried the door.

It opened under her knock after a moment, and the music hit up full blast.

“Now, this is a party.” She grinned at me before delving into the crowd.

Luca kept his arm around my shoulders and pushed into the room. The suite was packed with partygoers, and the lights were low. Music blared, and violet slices of neon light flashed over the crowd now and again. Angelo was right at my back; I could feel his tension. We pushed through the crowd, and Luca stopped every few seconds to greet someone he knew from school.

“Whose party is this?” I asked Luca.

He looked at me blankly, unable to hear over the music.

“I said, whose party is this?” I shouted in his ear.

He shrugged, clearly clueless and unconcerned. Turning toward the long bar at one side of the suite, he pulled me with him. I was getting more and more annoyed by his heavy arm. I tried to shrug it off, and luckily managed this time. Finally free of the burden, I trailed behind him, looking for Chiara. She was at the bar, already downing shots. I turned to Angelo, feeling his judgement.

“I guess it is prom,” I offered him, and a frown crossed the bodyguard’s face.

I felt bad for putting him in a position where it was hard to protect me, but I could hardly just head home on prom night at eleven p.m., not after I’d risked so much to come. I couldn’t be the broken girl who had only felt excitement about life when I was stalked through the gym and pinned to the floor by a self-professed killer.

Aren’t you already?

I rejected that voice. I’d been ignoring it all week. The truth was, what had happened with Nikolai was the most excitement I’d ever had. He had touched me, chased me, kissed me. He’d broken my father’s rules without a second thought. It was addictive, the thrill of really living. In my deepest of hearts, I worried that I’d never feel that again.

Angelo sighed and found a nearby wall to loom from, and I tried my best to pay attention to Chiara’s rambling conversation. She spied plenty of people she knew from school, and I dutifully followed her around the crowded suite as she ran this way and that to talk to people. She’d always been more social than me and had the kind of freedom I’d only ever been able to dream about. The result of being guarded constantly, a valuable chess piece on my father’s board, was that I wasn’t exactly sure how to hang out with people my age. I felt awkward and pained as I smiled and tried to join in conversations.

After about an hour, I gave up and went to find a bathroom. Inside, I stared at myself in the glass. Was there something wrong with me? Why wasn’t I having fun? Why did I always feel like the odd one out?

Was it just my upbringing that set me apart, or was I destined to never really feel like I belonged anywhere? Not having an answer to the questions that had plagued me my entire life, I washed my hands and left the bathroom, slamming into a body outside the room.

My anxiety spiked as I pushed away from a broad figure, looking up to glimpse Luca’s face. Oh, it was only him.

“Hey, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Luca said, pulling me into his body.

“Just partying,” I ground out, and hated the way his hands felt hot and sweaty against the silk of my thin dress.

“Let’s party together. I got rid of Angelo, he’s distracted.” Luca hiccupped and grinned.

I craned my neck to look over his shoulder at the packed sitting room but couldn’t make out much at all.

“Let’s see what’s along here.”

Slinging an arm over my shoulders again, like the world’s most irritating scarf, he pushed me along the corridor toward a turn at the end.

“Is this still the same suite? It’s huge,” I muttered, looking around as we passed an indoor hot tub and a few bedrooms. The music grew slightly quieter, allowing the headache that was pressing at my temples to lessen a little. “How do you know all this is here?”

There weren’t any other partygoers at this end of the suite. The sudden emptiness of the hall was unsettling.

“Some guy told me.” Luca raised a finger to his lips. “It’s a secret, though, only for the initiated.” He laughed.

I stopped our forward momentum with effort. “What guy?”

“The guy who’s throwing this awesome party.”

“Does he go to school with you?” I asked, nerves gathering in me.

Luca laughed and shook his head. “Fuck, no. Anyway, why do you care about him? Hurry, before someone else comes along here,” he complained and pulled me harder.

My heels slipped, and I nearly fell, only just catching my balance. The words to warn Luca or demand that we go back to the party fell from my lips as he tugged me into a dark room and shut the door behind us. The sound of the lock clicking was like a gunshot in the silence.

It was a dimly lit bedroom, and shadows lay in every corner.

I stared around, awareness prickling across my skin.

The feeling of eyes on me.

“Luca, what was the guy’s name? The one who threw the party?” I whispered, every hair on my body standing up on end, every instinct in my head screaming at me to run.

“Nicolas? Nicola? I don’t remember,” Luca said, pulling me toward him before pressing me against the wall.

“Nikolai?” I whispered.

“Who cares? Now, come on. Let’s have some fun before your bodyguard finds us,” Luca muttered.

It was the last thing he said before slapping a hand over his neck and cursing. The flash of the needle was nearly too fast to see, but I could guess what had happened as Luca slumped to the floor bonelessly.

Nikolai stood in his place, putting the cap back on the syringe in his hand. He had on a black dress shirt, rolled to the elbows, showcasing his strong inked forearms. Black slacks and dress shoes made up his outfit. He looked like the future leader of a powerful bratva. He was utterly captivating and terrifying all at once.

I stared at him in horror, my thoughts colliding in a jumble. “Did you—” I couldn’t finish the question as I stared down at Luca.

“Kill him? I thought about it. He was planning on bringing you in here and fucking you, whether or not you wanted him to,” Nikolai said, looking impassively down at him.

“And what do you plan?”

Niko looked up and grinned at me. My heart lurched. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, but I’d thought of him nearly constantly. It felt odd to see him in the flesh after imagining so much. He looked even more deadly and alluring than I remembered.

“I want what’s mine, Sofia,” he said softly. Using his boot, he rolled Luca’s inert body away.

“Is he—dead?”

“Depends what was in the syringe, I suppose,” Nikolai said, and tossed it into a corner. “He asked me to stash it in here for him to use on you.”

My disbelief must have radiated off me in waves, because Niko laughed. “Sweet, innocent Sofia, when are you going to understand that the bad guy doesn’t always wear a sign? They don’t always look like me, lastochka. You should be more careful who you hang out with.”

“So, you’re trying to make me think you’re not the bad guy? You cut my cousin’s fucking hand off for going back on his poker bet!”

Nikolai approached me, with Luca out of the way on the floor, and caged me with his arms. I should run, or scream, or do something, but I was frozen, like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t look away from his gray gaze.

“I never said I’m not a bad guy. I wouldn’t lie to you like that. And yes, I cut your idiot cousin’s hand off, not because of the game, but because he touched my prize. He’s lucky I let him live.”

My breath caught in my chest. “How do you know Silvio touched me?”

The memory of that day in the changing rooms was seared into my mind. My cousin backing me against a mirror and slipping his hand inside my robe, squeezing my lace-covered breast and then dipping lower before I could smack his hand away. I’d felt dirty for days after.

“I know everything about you, Sofia. I always know everything about that which is mine,” Niko said in a deep purr. One of his hands drifted to my neck. He circled the velvet choker with his hand. “Pretty, but it needs a leash on the end.”

I tried to knock his hand away, and he caught my wrist with ease, pinning it to the wall beside me.

“What are you going to do to me? Cut parts off if I don’t let you do what you want?” I was proud of how strong my voice sounded. It was nothing like the terror inside me.

Niko tutted. “What good owner would cut parts off his own belongings? I’m going to take care of you, lastochka. You’re mine.”

“I don’t want you,” I whispered back.

His face was so close now, and his body was pressing into mine.

Nikolai’s mouth stretched in a brief grin. “I don’t care.” His hand slid along the sash around my chest. “My sweet little prom queen, with the barbed tongue and knife skills. My prom queen who hates the world and everyone in it. I see you, Sofia.”

Then, before I could argue with that outrageous statement, he kissed me.

Kissed would be a generous term for what he did.

He devoured me.

His tongue pushed inside my mouth, and he pressed more firmly against me. One hand wound into my hair and tugged my head ruthlessly to the side, angling it so his tongue could plunge inside the hot cavern of my mouth and stroke mercilessly along mine. He bit my lower lip, sucking on it until heat washed through me. Everything felt heightened. It was like skydiving, where the excitement and fear crashed together to make a new feeling of pure exhilaration. It was like falling, unsure if the parachute on your back would open.

He growled against my lips. “Fuck, you taste perfect, like fucking sunshine and redemption,” he muttered, and left my mouth to work his stubbled lips along my jaw.

My skin flushed, and my nerves prickled with pleasure. It sent me dizzy, the terror and want rising in my body. I wanted to push him away, and I wanted to pull him closer. I was a mess, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel judged for it.

His lips closed around my ear, his hot breath shooting over the skin as his teeth nibbled ruthlessly at the lobe. I arched my back, my body taking over, overruling my head.

This man is dangerous. You need to get away.

All the words I knew to be true seemed to come from a distance. His hand fell to my throat again, squeezing lightly, reminding me I was caught in the trap of a dangerous predator and I shouldn’t lose my head. But then it slid down, his palm covering my tit, squeezing it just hard enough to make me bite back a moan.

“Have you ever let another man touch you like this, Sofia?” His deep voice was hypnotic.

That was the only reason I was falling into a trace like this. It had to be.

“Has any other man ever put his unworthy hands on this body?”

“Why?” I gasped as his fingers closed on my nipple and tugged hard.

“Because I’m a list guy. That’s something you’ll come to know about me. It helps to keep me organized. I need to know whose name goes on the list of men I need to kill for daring to touch you.”

I jerked, my eyes flying open. His face was right there, his forehead leaning against mine.

“You really are crazy,” I murmured, cold reality breaking through the fog of virgin want that had clouded my head.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Did you throw this party on purpose?”

“No, I’m just a huge fan of proms, maybe because I never had my own.” His mocking tone rankled my nerves. He smirked at my expression. “Of course I threw this party for you. Every prom queen needs a party, and it’s only right that I throw it for you.”

A soft snort left my lips. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

Niko’s grin only widened. He laughed, and the sound sent chills down my back.

“Of course I’m not. That’s far too pedestrian a word for what we are. I’m your new owner. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

Those words cleared the fog of lust a little from my head. This was dangerous. This killer had orchestrated this entire event to get me alone, separated from my bodyguard. My father would have a heart attack if he knew.

Both of Nikolai’s hands were on my breasts now, and the insistent tug of his fingers over my nipples had me wanting to arch my back like a cat and rub against him. But reality had crept in.

“I’m leaving,” I whispered.

Niko chuckled. “No, you’re not.”

“I don’t want you.”

He laughed again. “Yes, you do, and that scares you more than anything.”

The knowing gleam in his eyes made me want to slap him. I hated the way he saw right through me. I wished I could rake his eyes out, and I wanted him to kiss me again at the same time.

“It’s okay to be scared and to like it, too. Doesn’t it make you feel alive?”

Yes, it did. That was the most worrying thing of all. 

“I’ll scream,” I whispered.

Something dark and twisted flared in Niko’s eyes. “Do you promise?” He chuckled. “No one is coming, Sofia. It’s just us here. You don’t have to pretend to be a good girl. You don’t have to pretend anything with me. I want you just as you are, the real you… the one you hide,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

I didn’t know what to say to that. It was too beautiful and too terrifying all at once.

His hands slipped from my breasts and slid downward, fire trailing in its wake. He kissed me again until I was panting against him, my hands clasping his arms, embracing him, fighting him. I didn’t know anymore.

As he reached my hip, I remembered my knife. Indecision tore at me. How could I get it? Did I even want to? He cut Silvio’s hand off! reason screamed at me. Since Silvio had touched me and made me feel dirty for weeks, that no longer seemed as terrible as it would have if he were a better person.

His hand moved lower, gathering the silky material of my skirt in a tattooed fist and drawing it slowly upward. I couldn’t breathe. Everything was too much. The smell of him, a spicy musk of a misty forest, earthy and alive, full of dark and hidden underground things, sharp pine, and fresh air. I inhaled deeply, my head swimming with the stuff.

My thighs trembled as the cool air of the room hit them. Any second now, he’d find my knife. The knowledge sent a spike of alarm through me. If I was going to get away, now was the time.

Niko murmured against my lips, seeming to see inside my head again, like always. “Surrender to me, Sofia. You know you want to.”

I trembled on the precipice of reason, knowing that agreeing to his soft, addictive words was suicide. Giving myself to a man like Nikolai would have my father marrying me off to the first buyer at a discount price for used goods. He might even make sure it was someone cruel, just to punish me.

“Fuck Antonio, prom queen. Choose me instead,” Nikolai murmured against my skin, seeming to be inside my head.

Was I so easy to read? No, I knew I wasn’t. If I was, my father would beat me more regularly, because these days, I could hardly think about him without hatred boiling in my veins. I’d gotten good at hiding my feelings from everyone except this man, it seemed. I didn’t know why that was, but it was undeniable. He saw me, all the fucked-up, ugly parts, and he wanted me regardless. The deep loneliness that lived inside me every single day wavered for a second.

“If you’re worried about your little knife there, don’t be. I’m not,” Nikolai said, sliding his hand up my inner thigh.

I jerked against him, my eyes snapping to his. There was desire and amusement in those gray depths. “You knew I was armed?”

“Of course. You’re smart, Sofia. It’s sexy. Regardless, it won’t stop me.”

My breath hitched as he caressed along the garter and then rose to my panties. The casual confidence Nikolai had in his own strength was sexy somehow. His cunning and ability to never be taken by surprise should probably scare me, but it didn’t. I must be broken, because right now, it didn’t scare me at all.

His fingers met the lace of my panties, and he stroked me through them. My body hummed with pleasure. It was the first time anyone else’s hand had touched me there. I clung to his shoulders, trembling like a leaf. This wasn’t allowed, it was forbidden. My body was meant for my husband and him alone.

My father’s words slipped out of my head and stopped having any kind of meaning as Nikolai’s fingers slid under the elastic of my panties and met my skin. I cried out, and Nikolai placed his free hand over my mouth. I was pinned to the door, silenced by his hand, while his other fingers worked up and down my slit.

He rested his forehead against mine; his breath was harsh and just as hurried as mine. “What a tight little cunt you have, prom queen. It feels so soft under my fingers.” He pushed a finger inside me and cursed. “Holy fuck, you could kill with that grip.”

“I-I…” I trailed off, and lost the ability to speak as he added another finger, and his thumb landed on my clit. It was too good. It was everything I’d imagined feeling when I read smutty romances or watched a sexy movie but had given up feeling for myself.

Nikolai nodded, his lips working along my jaw. “I know, Sofia. It feels good, doesn’t it? I’ll give you everything you need. Just have patience, prom queen.”

My head fell back as he fucked me with his fingers. His hand moved faster, and the sound of my wetness filled the room, crude and startling. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment and pleasure. Nikolai watched me the entire time, his darkly possessive eyes drinking in my expressions.

I came suddenly, without warning. Wetness blossomed between my legs, so much that it soaked the tops of my thighs and Nikolai’s hand. I bent over, folding in on myself with waves of sensation, but Nikolai worked me through it, thrusting his thick fingers inside my pussy until the last pulses of my virgin muscles ebbed.

“That was the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Nikolai murmured softly, pulling his hand from my panties and down my thigh, patting the knife as he went.

Humiliation coated my skin. I’d come here ready to defend myself, prepared to put this psycho in his place, and instead, had my first real orgasm in his arms.

He pulled his hand from between my legs and put his fingers to his lips, sucking the wetness off them. I stared, and he smirked. He looked different, like the intimacy of that stolen, illicit moment had affected him as much as me. He seemed younger somehow, less jaded, as he looked at me with something like awe in his eyes.

“Absolute perfection. You taste better than I’d dreamed.” Stepping back from me, he jerked his head to the left. “Get on the bed.”

“I – I can’t! I’m not on the pill.” Logic filtered through my hazy mind. Was I really doing this?

Nikolai grinned. “Good.”

Before I had time to think, Niko tensed. I didn’t know what he’d heard; nothing was making its way through the fog in my head, but his entire body, so relaxed against mine, suddenly stiffened.

Then a hard knock sounded at the door, and the handle turned uselessly a few times.

“Sofia?” Angelo’s panicked voice floated through the wood.

Nikolai turned his head, annoyance washing through his handsome features. The other face of the beast. He was a stone-cold killer again. Reason slammed into me like a ten-ton truck.

What the fuck am I doing?

“Forgive me, lastochka, I need to get rid of this cockblock once and for all,” he muttered through clenched teeth. He reached behind him and pulled a gun from the back of his jeans.

“No! You can’t kill Angelo,” I said quickly, panic filling me again.

“I can kill whoever I want,” Niko said, brushing off my hand as I reached for him.

He started toward the door, and I acted on pure instinct. Ripping my skirt upward for a second, I grabbed my knife. Paranza corta was the knife art of an assassin. It favored close quarters, and you didn’t have to be a strong man to be good at it. Being small and nimble was preferred.

I darted toward Nikolai, reaching him when he was halfway across the floor. Raising the knife, I aimed for his shoulder first, in a wide, obvious swing that he’d see from the corner of his eye.

He reacted quickly, feinting to the side. I allowed my momentum to carry me in front of him, swinging around at the last minute as he reached to catch me and slashed at his face.

Blood hit my hand and face in a sudden shock of heat. Nikolai went to one knee, still catching me as I stumbled. His hands pulled me close and wrestled the stiletto blade from me, throwing it into a corner.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

I looked up at him, and my stomach lurched sickeningly as I took in the blood running freely down his face. In all the years I’d practiced the art, I’d never hurt a real person. I’d never drawn blood. Sudden, unwanted tears gathered at the corners of my eyes.

Nikolai frowned down at me, his anger fading quickly as he took in the tear running down my cheek.

“Lastochka, why are you crying? I’m the one who just got his pretty face sliced open,” he reminded me.

The sounds of Angelo banging on the door had stopped. Maybe he had gone to find someone to let him in.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, unable to stop watching the way the blood seeped from the horrible wound. It was deep and bleeding a lot.

“It’s shock. You’re a good girl, and it feels wrong to hurt people, even a man like me.” His hand threaded through my hair, calming me. “Don’t cry. I don’t deserve your tears,” he said quietly.

My eyes shot to his. We stared at each other for a long, painful moment, and I knew I’d never forget it. Something passed between us that was unbearably honest, silent yet irrevocable. I knew in my gut that I would be forever changed by knowing this man.

Nikolai pulled his eyes from mine to glance at the door. “Since Angelo will be back shortly, and you seem attached to his survival, I’ll go.”

He shifted me carefully to the floor. His blood was splattered liberally across my white dress and sash. I looked like an extra from Carrie.

He loomed over me, cupping my face with one hand, his brutal touch gentle for once.

“Goodbye, prom queen. Be a good girl while I’m gone.”

There was something final about his words, and my confused heart clenched in my hollow chest. He made for the door, grabbing a small towel laid out on the vanity as he went and pressing it to his face.

“Are you done with me?” I called out. I didn’t know what the hell prompted me to ask it, never mind care about the answer, but I was a mess. I had no control around this man, no mask to hide behind. He saw it all.

Nikolai paused at the door, his formal black outfit drenched with the blood from his face. I wondered wildly for a moment if he’d dressed up for me, for my prom night? It seemed impossible, but as soon as I thought it, I knew it was true.

He pressed the towel against his face, and his voice was muffled beneath it. “Missing me already?”

I couldn’t answer that. I was scared he’d see through my lie if I denied it.

Instead of calling me out, he merely checked his blood-splattered watch and pressed the towel tighter. “I won’t be around for a while. My father’s sending me to Russia, so you can rest easy.”

He’s leaving. This is it. The last night of feeling alive. 

Nikolai seemed to read the feelings I couldn’t say. His gray eyes peered into my soul, and he nodded, satisfied with the wretched, torn emotion he found there.

“When I get back, I’ll find you, Sofia De Sanctis. I’ll always find you wherever you go. You are still and will always be—my prize.” With a wink, he turned on his heel and went to the door. Unlocking it, he slipped out without a backward glance.

I sat in shock on the floor, bloodstained, with Luca’s unconscious body lying beside me. His last words played again and again in my head.

“I’ll always find you wherever you go.”

I had no idea if that was a promise or a threat.