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Scandalous Prince

Page 3

by Rachel Van Dyken


  Funny, how when you’re about to lose, you realize how precious that one thing was to you, you realize that you really did want to give it away to someone, but that that someone wasn’t a hero.

  Never had been.

  Breaker Campisi was as hard as the rest of them, with a steely glint in his eyes that told me I should have just listened to him because he knew more than anyone, how fast a person’s life could change.

  I focused on Breaker’s bright green eyes when I was dropped onto a soft mattress. I imagined that he was touching me, not this Russian monster, whoever he was.

  I imagined that he was dying with jealousy.

  That he was seconds from breaking the door down.

  And yet, no sound was heard beyond my own panicked breathing, and the man’s rustling as clothing was moved around.

  Hands gripped my wrists as they pinned them at the top of the bed, and then he lowered his lips to my ear, causing a chill to erupt down my body as his heavy accent broke out in English. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

  “No, you aren’t,” I rasped.

  “You have no idea.” He said something in Russian and then pressed a small kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I have thirteen minutes with you. I’ll make it fast, but I don’t think I can make it painless.”

  I could make out the smell of mint gum on his breath as I tried to focus on things that would calm me down, familiar things.

  Most of the men I’d seen were old—except one.

  This one, I imagined, because, despite my ability to reach for him, to feel the softness of his skin, I knew he was young.

  And I knew he wasn’t going to stop.

  Tears filled my eyes, one slid down my cheek past the blindfold. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just please.”

  His body tensed over mine, and all he got out was an accented. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t lie!” I snapped. “You’re not sorry. You’re going to take and take and take from an innocent woman while she lays numb and drugged. Does that make you feel bigger? Better? Like more of a man?”

  The room spun behind my blindfold as the familiar scent of my favorite cologne hit me square in the face. How dare he smell good? How dare he ruin the Gucci that Breaker, King, and Asher all wore!

  My stomach rolled.

  I tried to jerk against him, but my body wouldn’t follow my brain’s instructions; my brain screamed, my body stayed asleep.

  And I was trapped.

  I let out a scream of frustration. “Just do it already! Fucking do it!”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “What? Now you can’t get it up?” I expected him to slap me, but he stayed still over me. “Afraid I won’t feel anything?”

  “Stop.” His voice had a rough warning edge to it, but I already felt dead inside. “Stop.”

  “No!” I roared. “So get on with it, fuck a helpless girl, go back to your little Russian friends who will, for the record, never defeat the Abandonato Dynasty, and tell them how you took a girl’s virginity without her permission, without her pleasure, with nothing but pain!”

  “You’re wrong…” His voice was deep, rich as his lips nipped my right ear, his tongue sliding out as he pressed an erotic kiss to my neck. I wanted to buck against him but was immobile, and I hated that his kiss felt tender when it should have felt like a thousand needles burying inside my skin. “You will feel pleasure, or I’m not doing my job right.”

  “I’d prefer you not do your job.” I spat. “At all!”

  I felt something cold against my thigh, and then he whispered, “Scream again.”

  I didn’t need any encouragement.

  I screamed, and I screamed, and I screamed until the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room. I still couldn’t move very well or see.

  “No games,” another Russian voice said; it was deeper. “You do this, or her entire family dies.”

  The door shut again.

  “I’m sorry.” The smooth Russian voice was back and then the weight of his body as he sat next to me. “I thought—I imagined they wouldn’t come in and look, the blood…”

  “They can’t die.” My voice shook as another tear slid down my cheek.

  “Regrets.” His voice was back, this time it felt guttural like the room had turned into his own personal Hell or maybe he’d just joined mine. “We all have them. And I can promise you, this will be mine, something that will be at the top of the list will be this very moment, taking what wasn’t mine to take, what was only yours to give.”

  Tears burned my eyes as my lips parted to say something like. “Good.”

  Instead, I felt nothing but pain.

  My own.

  His.

  “Will they really die if you don’t do this?” I asked softly.

  He was silent and then. “You die, possibly the new Sinacore boss, definitely your father, they have a gun trained on him right now at the party along with your mother and younger sister.”

  “It seems such a small sacrifice.” A knot of emotion lodged in my throat. “One small thing I give, you take, and everyone lives.”

  “There is living—” he agreed “—and there is surviving. You’re doing the second right now, but one day, not tomorrow or the next day, you’ll live again, you’ll smile without pain, and you’ll know you did your part in saving your family when you were given the chance.”

  “Who are you?” My heart slammed against my chest. I’d never heard a person speak like that before or have such insight like he’d lived a thousand lives and only taken the wise, meaningful moments and collected them for a time like this.

  “Valerian.” His voice shook. “Valerian Petrov.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the name of a monster.”

  “And yet… it is.” His hands cupped my face, my lips trembled as he brought his mouth to mine in the most tender, confusing kiss I’d ever received in my entire life.

  My brain said we had to give in.

  And my body pounded with confusion as his tongue slid past my lips. I could barely kiss him back; I was too tired, too drugged.

  “Every kiss,” he whispered against my mouth. “Should feel like this.”

  “Like I’m getting raped?” My voice trembled even though his body was warm as it hovered so close to mine, I could feel the skin from his chest, his neck, the short intake of breaths against my mouth.

  “Like you can’t help but feel everything even when you know you shouldn’t.” He said softly, his hands dug into my hair, and then he was kissing me again. Hands shaking, he palmed my thighs and then slowly slid my skirt up around my hips.

  He hesitated again.

  A soft knock sounded at the door.

  My lips trembled. “What does the knock mean?”

  “Three minutes left.”

  Three minutes until I was a different person.

  Three minutes until I was undone.

  Three minutes to give myself to save the ones I loved.

  “Valerian?” I gulped.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m giving you my permission.” I had to do this on my terms, so I had control even though it was a lie.

  He cursed.

  “Please.”

  He was gone, and the sound of breaking glass had me internally panicking, and then his hands were back on my legs, spreading them open as another hot kiss pressed against my lips.

  “Imagine him.”

  “Who?” I wasn’t dating anyone, clearly had never been with anyone, just lusted after Breaker then wanted to murder him when I heard of every single sexcapade.

  “Whoever you dream about at night.” His voice was filled with so much pain that it almost felt like the roles were reversed, that I should be comforting him. “Whoever holds your heart, imagine him, his smile, his eyes, imagine his hands.” He removed my thong as he spoke, gently encouraging me, seducing me with his tenderness.

  My heart was at war between right and wrong.

  A trembling hand slid bet
ween my legs.

  I could barely move, but it didn’t matter, because he seemed to be doing all the work as he worked me into a frenzy I couldn’t even fight against while his other hand dug into my hair, his mouth met mine in a painful kiss before he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Against my lips and then searing pain hit me so hard that I cried out.

  He was inside me.

  This stranger.

  “Are you doing it? Imagining him?” he asked tenderly, not moving, but throbbing as my body clenched around him, unsure if I should feel good or bad, angry or sad. “Imagining the man who holds your heart?”

  My vision flashed.

  A memory of Breaker in the car with me.

  Arguing.

  And then the heated look across the room that I knew I would never get used to as he watched me dance.

  I instantly relaxed. “Yes. Yes, I’m imagining him.”

  “Good.” He slowly started to move. “You’re giving this to him, not me, the one who owns your soul, he gets this, not this monster, do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Hot tears slid down my cheeks as his hips moved in a slow cadence that replaced the pain with enough pleasure that I was helpless to do anything except lay there and wonder how my night had gone from a boring party to a complete stranger taking my virginity, and Breaker Campisi’s name in my head and on my lips.

  I would hate him forever for not stopping this.

  Just as much as I would love him for being my imaginary hero during this nightmare.

  “Damn it,” Valerian groaned. “You’re so tight.”

  My body exploded with pleasure on his next thrust, and then he was quickly pulling away.

  The rustle of clothes was like a bucket of ice water getting thrown over my still naked bottom half.

  Another knock sounded.

  “Shit.” A rip sounded, and then he was cleaning me up as much as he could, and gently pulling my dress down, sliding my underwear back up, and then lifting me into his arms.

  Twenty seconds later, the door burst open.

  I kept my head high even though I knew they were making jokes about the sheets, about my virginity, about the price I paid.

  And then I was getting handed off to someone else.

  “Are you okay?” Andrei’s low voice whispered in my ear.

  “Yes.” I gulped. “No.”

  He let out a string of curses that had me tensing in his arms. “Breaker is taking you immediately home. I need to talk to your dad.”

  I almost laughed. Dad would kill me, kill him, even if it meant saving him, he would rather die than know this story.

  “Don’t,” I commanded. “Don’t tell him.”

  “Vi—”

  “Promise me.”

  “Damn Abandonatos will be the death of me.” He sighed, and then his mouth was pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I will avenge you.”

  “I know you will.” And he would, he was terrifying. You didn’t cross the Sinacore-Petrov boss and live to tell about it.

  “Go with Breaker, he may need to carry you until the drugs wear off. I’m going to deal with this… situation.”

  I felt myself getting passed over to another person’s arms, familiar arms, arms that I’d dreamt of just minutes ago. “Breaker?”

  “Yes.” He sounded like he’d aged twenty years.

  “Tell him to use the Tigers.”

  “My fucking pleasure,” he spat and then, still blindfolded, I was carried to the waiting SUV.

  Once inside, Breaker jerked it off my face and pulled me into his arms.

  I didn’t cry until we left the parking lot.

  And then the sobbing didn’t stop as he pulled me into his lap and rocked me back and forth like it would somehow fix what had just been broken and return what was just taken.

  Chapter Two

  Nature’s first green is gold, Her harder hue to hold. Her earl leaf’s a flower; but only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. —Robert Frost

  Breaker

  With each quiet sob, I watched a piece of my heart dislodge from my body and plummet to the ground with a resounding crash, over and over, the crashing turned into a chaos of glass and blood. Should I be shocked that by the time we reached her still empty house—I had nothing left?

  There was blackness where once had been life.

  Blood still pounded.

  And something still beat, but it was more rage than life, and it filled me to the brim with hatred for so many things that it would take years to assess the damage.

  “C-can—” she hiccupped “—Can you stay with me?”

  I often wondered how easily people were deceived by the light when, in fact, they were nothing but dark. This was one of those moments where lies and smokescreens existed.

  Where loss and evil chuckled their win, while love and innocence mourned what once was.

  “Yeah, Vi.” My voice sounded like gravel as I spoke, and felt even worse; my throat was sore from keeping the screams in, my body was weak from desperately trying to take her pain in any way I could.

  Take me.

  Use me.

  Hurt me.

  Just leave her alone.

  But the universe, as it often did, had other plans, didn’t it?

  I hadn’t seen this one coming.

  We were both quiet as we moved around her room. She went to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

  It was the quickest shower any girl had ever taken, I was sure of it, because within four minutes, she was back in the room, wearing black silk sleep shorts and a white cami.

  She crawled into her king-sized bed with its pure white duvet and white pillows and had my heart still existed—this would have ended it.

  Her innocent face now marred by something else as she blinked her light blue eyes up at me as if to ask.

  Am I still pretty?

  Am I still worthy?

  Am I still me?

  On wooden legs, I walked over to her bed and sat on the edge of it; my hand trembled as I pushed some of her silky hair away from her forehead.

  “I’m sorry—” my voice cracked “—that I couldn’t save you.”

  “Breaker.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “There are some things, even the great Campisi son, can’t save me from. Like Valerian Petrov.”

  I kept my sob in.

  The pain was unbelievable.

  The guilt was unimaginable.

  I would not come out of this the same.

  Neither of us would.

  “Still.” I found my voice. “It’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe, and tonight, I was just as bad as them, just as deserving of punishment—death.”

  “Tigers?” She offered with a small smile.

  “How can you joke right now?” I couldn’t stop my body from shaking.

  “Because.” She swallowed and looked away quickly. “If I don’t, then I won’t stop crying.”

  I lay down facing her, pulling her close. “How about I change the story?”

  “What?”

  “The story. How about I change it?”

  “Do you suddenly have a time machine hiding in your pants or what?”

  I smiled at that. At least some of her sass was still there, lingering beneath the sadness and fear. “Yes, that’s what I tell all the ladies…”

  “Knew it.”

  God, her smile was unreal. “You met him dancing.”

  “Who?”

  “Your mystery man.”

  “Ohhhhh, so you really are going to tell me a story?” She bit down on her bottom lip and frowned; her ears were bright with unshed tears. “Do you think it will help?”

  “I hope so,” I answered honestly.

  She nodded. “So, I met him dancing?”

  “He bought you a drink, but you being the smart girl you are—”

  “I dumped it and ordered my own.”

  I smiled. “Good girl.”

&nbs
p; “And then what happened?” She scooted closer.

  “He kissed you—the best kiss of your life, books are written, sonnets are sung, and time stood still, the music slowed, it was just this kiss, existing between time and space.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t know what that sort of kiss feels like.”

  My story seemed to be making things worse.

  Without thinking, because if I did, I would lose the nerve, I pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and then deepened it as I massaged my tongue against hers then pulled back on the pressure. A hand slid up her neck as I held her close, kissed her like she deserved.

  When I drew away, her eyes were misty. “I think I get it.”

  “Good.” I pressed one more kiss to the tip of her nose. “You kissed and kissed, just like that, and when you couldn’t handle it anymore, he took you home, the end.”

  She frowned. “Wait, what?”

  “That’s all that happened,” I said softly. “Just the best few kisses of your life with a promise for more. No dark rooms. No guns. No violence. No stealing. Just you, mystery man, and the kiss. Focus on that.”

  “Or,” She licked her lips and leaned in. “I could just focus on you instead of mystery man.”

  My soul screamed no.

  My heart, wherever it was, broken by my feet, used its last beats to say yes.

  “Yeah, you could do that too,” I agreed as a feeling of darkness wrapped itself tightly around my throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

  “Thanks, Breaker.” Her eyes closed while I kept watch over her, over a treasure I had failed to protect from the monsters of this world, from the darkness.

  She fell asleep fast.

  When her breathing deepened, I quietly got up from her bed and walked into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.

  The scream was building so hard and fast that my entire body was convulsing. I ran to the toilet and puked everything I had eaten that day and maybe for the past week out of my body as tears streamed down my cheeks.

  And then I kicked off my shoes and walked into the shower fully clothed, closing the glass door behind me as I stumbled against the wall and slid down to the tile floor.

 

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