I didn’t see Sofia for two days. They were the longest two days of my life.
With plenty of time to think, my mind wandered relentlessly over the night she’d come to me. It was the single hottest experience of my life. My clever little prom queen had been a virgin after all this time, and she’d chosen me. To me, that was more of a commitment than vows in church. She hadn’t admitted that much, but I’d felt it. I’d also felt her determination and need. All the puzzle pieces that made up the most fascinating woman I’d ever met.
She was scared of her act of rebellion and of the man she’d chosen for it. I wasn’t surprised she’d stayed away for a few days. She was worried about her engagement. She shouldn’t be. It wasn’t going to happen. I’d already decided that when I left here, which would be soon, she was coming with me. She didn’t have a choice. Was she on protection? She certainly hadn’t seemed worried about it. The thought that my seed could be swimming in her, taking root right at this moment was a fucking turn on. Sofia with a rounded belly, tied to me for life? That was the stuff dreams were made of.
I was alone in the basement, without Silvio’s torture sessions to look forward to. I guessed the big guy had worn himself out. Time blended into one long, tedious march. I slept fitfully, dreaming of my mother hanging in the late afternoon and my father’s final expression of shock as he’d slumped down dead.
My cracked and weary mind groaned under the weight of the relentless horror of life.
I thought of Kirill, the brother I should hate but didn’t. He’d had me sent here, but he’d also sent Angelo to make sure I wasn’t too fucked up by it. Even when my pakhan brother was brutal, he was fair. I wondered if he was happy with Molly, the woman he’d hunted for seven years. The mother of his child. My brother had always been more normal than me. Less broken. More trustworthy. Lovable. I knew myself, and there wasn’t a single person in the world who would think those things of me.
In what felt like late afternoon, a noise came from the hall that had me sitting up. Maybe Antonio De Sanctis was onto something with a new torture technique because leaving me alone with my thoughts was masterful. The isolation was hurting more than his beatings.
An older woman came into the room, holding a tray of food. She looked to be in her early sixties, had graying dark hair, and an apron around her comfortable middle. She looked at me with suspicion. “Don’t try anything funny, or I can make cleaning up your wound hurt a lot.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I quipped, unable to argue with the authoritative energy from such a small package.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “And don’t get fresh. I’ve heard everything about you, Nikolai Chernov, and your devilish charms,” she said, and eyed me like I might try to seduce her on the spot.
“My devilish charms? My, my, I have to say that makes a nice break from having a reputation as a depraved lunatic.”
“Yeah, well, which reputation is more deserving, that’s the question? I’m Carmella, the housekeeper here. I’m not a nurse, so don’t complain about my doctoring,” she said sternly.
I grinned at her. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Carmella watched me for a moment longer and then nodded briskly. “Sofia, bring the medical kit.”
Excitement shot through me at the appearance of a familiar figure in the doorway. This time, there was nothing fake or forced about my grin as I took in the object of my growing obsession.
“Nice of you to visit. If I’d know you were coming, I’d have baked a cake,” I said.
“No jokes!” Carmella scolded, and slapped my wrist like I was a misbehaving schoolboy.
I turned my eyes to her, my amusement at her presence lessening. I wanted Sofia all to myself.
“Hold still, or we’ll leave you to fester. This is infected,” she accused, pointing to my wrist and fixing me with a look like it was my fault. “We’ll clean it. Sofia, bring the iodine.”
“Iodine? That’s old-school, Carmella,” I muttered, watching as she got ready to liberally douse my bound hands with the stinging disinfectant. I’d suffered through the same treatment countless times, but I had a feeling Carmella might make an even rougher nursemaid than I’d been for myself in the past.
I leaned forward, and she worked behind me in the narrow space where the restraints allowed me inches of movement. Sofia hovered at my side, avoiding my eyes. I bore a hole into her blushing cheek, wishing I could get closer.
“I’ve missed your visits, prom queen,” I murmured.
Color bloomed in her cheeks. Her dark eyes were enormous as they darted to Carmella and back to me. My rough nursemaid was humming noisily to herself, giving me an opportunity to murmur to Sofia.
“I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”
She snorted softly. Even a snort from Sofia was elegant. She couldn’t help it. It was in her bones. “Like anyone could forget about you. You’re a menace.”
“But a memorable one? I’m going to take that as a compliment. I like the thought of being unforgettable.”
She rolled her eyes, her tension fading slightly as she was tugged into the banter that had always been natural between us.
“My father is in Atlantic City. He’s coming back next week.”
“So, you’re saying we have the place to ourselves?”
She shook her head, looking exasperated. “Silvio just came back. He’ll be here with his father, Franco. He’s my uncle.”
“Are you close with your uncle?”
She shook her head immediately.
“You don’t like him, do you? He’s not trustworthy,” I guessed from her expression.
“How do you know that?”
“I told you. I know you, Sofia. I get you like no one else does.”
“Sofia, give him some water and food while I bandage his wrists. I have to get some more gauze,” Carmella interrupted, and stood and shuffled toward the door.
Sofia dutifully picked up a water bottle and twisted off the cap. She moved toward me on her knees. “Don’t piss Silvio off more than comes naturally to you. Without my father here, he could go too far,” she warned.
She looked tired and anxious. I didn’t like it.
“Tell me you’re not worried about me.” A pain lanced my dead heart, like a shot of electricity.
“Why not? It’s my fault you got caught. Why shouldn’t I feel bad about it?” she whispered, and her dark eyes met mine.
I stared at her, barely able to believe her words. Her guilt sat heavily in her tone, her worry and heartache peeling away any defenses I’d spent years building. I could safely say no one living in the world cared too much if I lived or died. No one worried for me. The world felt very quiet. For the first time in a very long time, the chaos that swirled inside me was still.
Her eyes bored into mine, and something moved between us at that moment. Something real. Feelings I had long since given up on. I thought for a maddening second that she was leaning in, like she might kiss me as I sat bound before her. A chaste kiss of an angel for a man destined for Hell. A benediction for a sinner like me. But she pulled back quickly as the sound of Carmella returning reached us.
Sofia grabbed the water bottle, remembering her task. “Here,” she offered, holding the bottle to my lips.
I couldn’t stop staring at her. It was like she had reached into my barren chest with her slender hand and taken my heart in her palm. Sure, I’d had her body, worked my way into her heart and mind, but being on the receiving end of her concern? It put her in a very exclusive club. The only other person to care if I lived or died was my mother, and I hadn’t been able to save her from the demons in her head.
Sofia was frowning at me. “Aren’t you thirsty?”
“Not for water.” My voice came out like gravel.
She picked up a piece of sandwich and held it to my lips. “If you bite me, you won’t get any more food,” she warned.
I grinned. “There’s only one place I want to bite you, and it’s not your fingers,” I reassured her.
I made sure to take the tips of her fingers into my mouth as I took the bite she was holding out for me. I brushed my tongue across her skin. She jerked.
“What? What’s he doing?” Carmella demanded, apparently finishing torturing my hands.
“Nothing, just eating,” Sofia said quickly, and let her finger play at my mouth.
I swirled my tongue around it, wishing it was her clit. A blush flourished on her cheeks. She was sufficiently distracted. She fed me, and I ate every bite.
Carmella bustled around me, cataloging my hurts. She had tutted herself red in the face by the time she finished. When she was done, she narrowed her eyes at me. “You shouldn’t make any more trouble while you’re here, or all my hard work will be undone.”
“For you, Carmella, anything.”
Sofia rolled her eyes and stacked the plate and medical kit on the tray. I wished she’d look at me again. I needed another jolt from her eyes to keep me going. Like a junkie jonesing for a fix, I hungered for the light of her attention for one more second before I was plunged back into darkness.
“What do you think, lastochka? Should I be a good little prisoner and escape without further damage?”
Sofia snorted, a motion that looked elegant because it was her. “I doubt you’re capable of being that well-behaved.”
I opened my mouth to respond, basking in her attention when an ugly, low voice spoke from the doorway.
“Am I interrupting? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Silvio squatted like a toad on the threshold, glaring inside. Tension gathered in my gut from the way he looked at Sofia. There was going to be trouble.
Silvio tried to get a grip on his visible anger. He shoved his hand in his pocket and strolled in, gesturing for the men who shadowed him nearly constantly to stay back. I couldn’t imagine how weak you had to be to need a security entourage in your own family compound.
“Why the fuck would you be fixing this fucker up? Don’t you understand what we’re doing here?” Silvio got close enough to Carmella to loom over her.
She stiffened and dropped her eyes.
“He’s a prisoner, not a guest.”
Gone was Carmella’s sass of earlier, and now I saw her fear. So did Silvio, and his satisfaction grew.
“He’s still a human, and he needs care. Antonio doesn’t want him dead,” Carmella said.
Silvio stilled, impotent anger seeming to swell his chest. “Are you arguing with me? That maid is arguing with me,” he repeated incredulously. He tossed the last over his shoulder at his men, who chuckled.
“She’s right, and you know it,” Sofia said, getting up and stepping toward her cousin.
I admired my girl’s fire, but I’d rather my hands were free in case Silvio decided on a pathetic display of strength.
Silvio’s gaze fell on me. “Are you enjoying this, Chernov? Your own brother handed you over to us, and now, the only people who’d bother to protect you are a pathetic old maid and a deluded prude.”
“A prude? Really? That’s the best you can come up with for me?” Sofia’s voice was rising. This was her house, after all, and she loved to fight. She hadn’t a weak bone in her body unless it came to her father—and me, of course.
“What else should I call you?”
Sofia tossed her head and slammed her mask down over her anger. She took Carmella’s hand. “Come on, Carmella. We better get back upstairs.”
Her simple dismissal seemed to short-circuit something in Silvio. He was moving before I could shout a warning.
He didn’t go for Sofia. That wouldn’t be smart. Instead, he went for Carmella. He ripped her out of Sofia’s hands, grabbed her by the head, and pulled her across the floor. The older woman let out a startled cry, and everyone in the room tensed.
I tested the strength of the handcuffs, fury filling me at Silvio’s crass display of feeble strength. I didn’t hit women or hurt them, and I certainly didn’t make ladies old enough to be my mother cry. I decided right then I’d cut off Silvio’s other hand before I killed him.
“Silvio, let the women go. Who cares about them? You’re here for me, aren’t you? I missed you yesterday. Take it from one torturer to another, you need to keep the cuts fresh if you want to inflict the best kind of slow, oozing pain.”
My voice was calm, calculated to piss him off and distract him, and it might have worked if Carmella hadn’t sunk her nails into Silvio’s wrist. She must have got him good because he roared in pain and shook her.
“Sofia, no!” I hissed when she pushed in, trying to pull Silvio’s hand from the housekeeper’s hair.
A roar of anger and the thick whack of flesh meeting flesh, and Sofia fell.
Black rage descended over me at the sight of her, crumpled on the floor. Carmella fell beside her, clutching her head, blood on her hands. Her loud sobs filled the basement.
“Now look what you idiot bitches have made me do,” Silvio cursed, gathering his calm and fiddling with his lapels. “That’s not on me, Sofia. That was your fault. Not that your father is around to do anything about it.”
Sofia had her face lowered and her hand hidden beneath her hair. Black fury crawled through my blood as I watched her collect herself. Possession so thick it choked descended.
After a long moment, she moved. Crawling over to Carmella, she wrapped an arm around the older woman’s shaking shoulders and rubbed her back reassuringly.
“Get out of here, both of you. Nikolai and I have unfinished business,” Silvio said after a minute.
The tension was thick, and his men were quiet. It was one thing to posture and boast, it was another to hit the capo’s daughter, even if she was your cousin.
Sofia stood, and I finally saw her face. A red hand mark marred one olive cheek, the corner of her mouth was bleeding, and her eye was rapidly blackening. How the hell the fucker had done so much damage with one heavy fist, I had no idea, but it was a certain kind of skill. He was a man practiced in hitting women, and for that reason alone, and no other, I’d skin him slowly before he died.
Sofia’s eyes met mine as she helped Carmella toward the door. She looked mournful, like she was sorry she had to leave me there with her animal of a cousin.
I tipped my head to her, a silent nod. You go, I told her with that look. I can take care of myself.
I watched her until her shadow in the stone hallway beyond the door disappeared.
“It’s not smart to smack the boss’s daughter around, is it? I guess you were first in line when they were handing out shit for brains.”
Silvio chuckled darkly. “I think you worry a little too much about the boss’s daughter. If she continues to be a problem, a prude who can’t attract a man, Antonio might just give her to me.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You know she’s your cousin, right? I take it you skipped biology at school.”
He didn’t like that. The smart comment earned me a sharp kick to the ribs, sending me slumping to the side. I wheezed out a breath as my muscles cramped all at once.
“You don’t need to worry about my cousin. She’s mine. Maybe I’ll fuck her in here, right in front of you. Would you like that, bratva pig?”
Anger like nothing I’d ever felt before washed through me, burning hot like lava, bubbling in my veins.
I forced the image of Silvio, skinned and roasting over a spit, to the forefront of my mind to hide my reaction to his words. Soon.
Silvio reared back as my manic laughter hit the air, his anger spiking at my cheerful mood. “What the fuck are you laughing about?”
“I’m just thinking about what your wasted muscle will taste like. Then again, you have plenty of fat, which should make it more delicious,” I wheezed, and shifted my weight with an effort. His boot had cracked a few ribs.
“Oh, yeah? You want to enlighten the party and tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”
Gathering my anger, I held it close like a life preserver in a turbulent sea. I dropped my mask of indifferent glee for a moment and let Silvio see the face of the man who would kill him slowly. “I’m talking about when I skin you, roast you, chop your body up for ease of handling… and eat you.”
My words stilled every man in the room. It wasn’t just the promise they held, it was the stone-cold, lethal certainty that rang in them. Not one of Silvio’s men doubted that I wasn’t lying. Prey knows when it’s outmatched, and Silvio paled, knowing that his death would soon be upon him.
Just to piss him off more, I lunged forward, ribs screaming, muscles protesting, and snapped my teeth at him. “Yum, yum.”
He jerked back like I’d punched him and slipped over his own shiny, pretentious loafers. He flailed without his other hand to hold on to the wall as he tried to get his balance.
When he finally caught himself, cursing and red-cheeked, he turned eyes full of hatred on me. Then he flicked his fingers at his men, needing to make up macho points for that bumbling act of embarrassment.
They descended on me in a fit of kicks and punches. Some inventive soul even employed his lit cigarette. Was it smart to goad him like that when I had no power to stop them? Probably not, but fuck me, it was worth it.
Later, an endless amount of time later, a sharp voice spoke from the door, and the beating ceased. My body blazed with pain, and I floated there, in that nothing place, untethered from the world.
Words flittered through my consciousness, disjointed and nonsensical.
“…you’ll kill him…”
“…I don’t care…”
“Antonio does, he wants the deals with Chernov…”
“Fanculo, va bene, let’s go…”
The voices trailed away, and silence fell.
No, not perfect silence.
Footfalls broke the still air, and a hand turned me over carefully.
“Crap. Nikolai? Can you hear me?” a deep voice asked.
My splintered brain tried to make sense of it. “Angelo, I can’t play with you right now, bratan. I’m busy,” I managed, and turned to spit a mouthful of blood on the floor.
“Fuck, you don’t look good. This isn’t good. The deal only works if I get you out of here alive,” Angelo fretted.
“Don’t worry. I’m not dying here. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, easy to say when you can’t see yourself. I think we should risk it tonight if you can stand. I’ll think of a diversion or something.”
Silvio’s dark promise ran through my head, cutting my mind with spiked barbs.
I shifted and cracked a swollen eyelid open. “You got a smoke for a dying man?”
Angelo blew out a breath and reached into his pocket for one. He lit it for me and put it to my lips. I drew the sweet poison deep into my lungs. Fuck, that was good.
“Everyone’s got to go sometime. It’s better to die than do nothing.” The nicotine racing through my veins helped to steady the shaking in my abused muscles.
“I don’t think that applies here.”
“It always applies,” I muttered, enjoying the smoke. Silvio’s words were playing in a loop in my head. “I can’t leave like this. I need a few days to recover. Then, we make a move.”
I tilted my head to look up at Sofia’s burly bodyguard. “How are you at making bombs?”
