Shit.
“You need to look more excited than that,” I said once I pulled the door open. “More confident. I need you to play a part, do you understand me?”
“Yes. I think… so.” Her eyes darted to the hallway than back to me. “You said I was safe, right? I’m safe?”
I didn’t want to soften. No good would come from me getting attached or being the person in her life that lied and said everything was going to be okay when it wasn’t.
Her father was dead.
Half her family was dead.
And her brother I would let her kill.
This wasn’t a safe life or a happy one.
This was war.
This was the mafia.
“You’re safe.” I locked eyes with her. “With me, you’ll be safe.”
I didn’t add that I was more dangerous to her than any of the men out there. I didn’t tell her that I was a monster that couldn’t feel anything.
I just let her believe I would use my gun for her.
And that’s all that mattered.
I was disgusted with myself then, horrified that as I dragged her through that club, I felt nothing, I was so fucking tired of being numb, of turning it off, of having women touch me and laughing because it amused me that they thought they could seduce me when I was much more tempted to kill them for trying.
I inwardly cursed my dad for making me that way.
For making women objects.
For trapping me in my own prison.
We walked down a separate hall that led to the clubs. She clung to me tightly, and I found I liked the way she held onto me, like she was afraid I would let go, like she didn’t know that just because I would keep her safe, didn’t mean I was safe.
We walked down a long corridor that led to a black door. I slid my card over it, and it buzzed open.
The sound of music filled the place. We’d been open an hour and already we were at capacity. Men and women were scattered everywhere, all over the couches, in the VIP section kissing, touching, flirting.
One of the Italians, now my man, eyed me with curiosity as I brought her through and then his eyes flickered with amusement before he turned away and spoke into his wrist.
I would hear from Ax later, that much I knew. Bastard rarely kept to himself when he wanted information and he was only too happy to report everything to Nixon Abandonato like a good puppy.
I wondered what she thought, then, as men parted for us, as woman stared at her with open eyed jealousy.
I pulled her toward the bar near the front entrance and held up two fingers. Manny nodded at me and filled two shot glasses with Stoli’s.
I picked up one and handed her the other. “Ypa.”
With trembling fingers, she took the shot from me and repeated. “Ypa.”
I almost smiled when she took the shot and then made a face. “I didn’t just ask you to kill me in Russian, did I?”
I admired her ability to joke in the circumstances she was in more than I should. “No that would have been ubei menya,” I shrugged. “Just in case you ever feel the need to beg for it.”
“It wouldn’t matter.”
“Pardon?”
“I said it wouldn’t matter. I’ve begged for it before, I begged for it every night since I was fourteen, so even if I screamed it at the top of my lungs—”
“Don’t.” I put my hand over her mouth silencing her, putting an end to the conversation. I didn’t want to hear about her pain, her struggles. I didn’t want to care that her brother touched her where no brother should touch, and I sure as hell didn’t want to know that the woman in front of me, begged for death the same way I did for entirely different reasons.
No, I didn’t want to compare pain.
I was too afraid our scars would match.
And it would be all I saw.
I held up two fingers again and handed her a new shot. “Here’s my promise to you, dorogoya. Say those words to me, and it will be over with before you take your next breath.”
Her lips parted, and then she reached for my hand and squeezed it, never taking her eyes off of me as she whispered, “Thank you.”
It was the first genuine thank you I’d ever heard from someone.
And all because I promised I would kill her if she asked.
She didn’t know then how seriously I took my vows. She had no way of knowing the power behind those words and the brutality behind my gun.
Something shifted in the air, with Post Malone blaring through the speakers, with Stoli’s vodka on her parted lips.
I realized it wasn’t my surroundings.
It wasn’t even her.
It was me.
I’d felt her thank you down to my damned soul.
Funny how you forget, how painful it is to feel, until your dead heart thuds loudly to remind you, you’re still human.
“Let’s go.” It came out rough, as I grabbed her arm and led her to the front entrance where my Escalade was waiting for us.
She scooted across the leather seat. I followed.
And when we were blanketed in silence, I exhaled out our destination.
“Nixon Abandonato’s house.”
Six thirty-two stiffened next to me.
She knew the name.
Then she would know that it was important that she did exactly as I said.
If I hid her in plain sight, they wouldn’t ask questions.
If they showed up at the club and saw I had her with me and never introduced her, they’d suspect her.
I hoped that none of the girls knew who she was.
I hoped that none of the men would recognize her as the girl who was taken from the De Lange’s a few days ago.
And I hoped that she’d forgive me, if for some reason they did.
Because if they did.
She wouldn’t make it back to the car.
If they did, she was riding to her own funeral.
I turned to see if she was wringing her hands together, or if she was biting her lip, tapping her heels, and I almost smiled when I noticed she was doing all three.
“Deep breaths,” I said in an amused voice. “You’re with me.”
“But you’re Russian.”
“How astute of you to point out the obvious.”
“No.” She gulped and turned her body toward me. I enjoyed the way the fur hugged her body, protecting her, keeping her safe from the elements, keeping her safe from watchful eyes. “I mean, you do realize who he is? Boss to one of the most powerful crime families in the world, his second in command went on a killing spree with you today. Don’t think I didn’t recognize him. The four families are powerful, and they hate De Langes. You aren’t Italian.”
I smirked at that. “Oh, you’d be surprised what I am.”
“You aren’t listening.” Her voice shook. “Again, you’re Russian. You don’t understand… they’ll kill me.”
“They’ll have to get through me first.”
She looked like she was minutes away from turning hysterical, so even though I rarely had to tell people why they should fear me, why they should run in the other direction, I put my hand on her thigh, stopping the incessant tapping of her foot.
Her body tensed beneath my touch.
Her warmth seeped through the leather of my gloves, and my fingers tingled as I held my hand there, wondering for the first time in years, if I would like touching her skin or if I’d have the ever present aversion to it.
It had been getting worse over the years.
The gloves hadn’t been necessary a few months ago.
And I hated that it was one more thing that I did, following in my father’s footsteps, leather gloves, always leather gloves.
“Listen carefully, six thirty-two, we’re almost to the compound Nixon calls a house.” I dug my fingers into her thigh a bit, she let out a whimper of fear, one I put there, not on purpose, but because I wanted more heat, I wanted… just more.
I jerked my hand back as we pulled up to the gate.
“R-right. Yes. Okay.” She nodded her head what felt like a dozen times and then whispered. “If I’m not a…” She shook her head. “Who do they think I am?”
The SUV pulled around the front and stopped.
The door opened and I called over my shoulder. “My new girlfriend.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alice
There was no time to hyperventilate as the cold spring air hit me square in the face. It was a chilly Chicago day, not that I’d been outside much in the last year.
Not since every De Lange family member went into deep cover.
My family was too involved to walk the streets.
Meaning I was both target and bait.
Seeing the sun, feeling it on my face, well that wasn’t something I’d been allowed to feel in a while. I was pulled from school, pulled from every extracurricular I was involved in, not that it was a lot, but still, being pulled from dance wasn’t fun.
Being pulled from Eagle Elite was even worse.
They’d shown up in black cars.
Students had watched while I was walked to the car and told I wouldn’t finish my junior year.
And the rest was history.
You’d think I’d be used to stress.
But this was next level stress.
I would be walking into the most dangerous house I’d ever been in. This was worse than my brother, this was worse than my father. Worse than facing the barrel of a gun.
This would be torture if they discovered me.
And Andrei just wanted me to do what? Look pretty on his arm and try not to hurl on the dinner rolls?
I imagined that everyone was armed.
I took another faltering step in the unfamiliar heels as Andrei wrapped an arm around me. He felt warm, his breathing was even, calm. And he looked almost annoyed that I wasn’t walking fast enough.
Annoyed that I was petrified.
Then again, now that I knew more of who he was, I figured, I should be just as scared of him as I was the rest of the Italians.
Because he was their friend, wasn’t he?
Which meant I was his enemy too.
My stomach sank as we approached the large immaculate house, with its water fountain in the middle of the driveway and its gorgeous brick stature.
Two men were standing in front of the door.
One looked angry at me for existing, while the other looked curious.
The one with the angry look gave Andrei a long stare and sighed. “They let you out tonight?”
“Cute, Vic, you kill any puppies today? Strangle them?”
The guy named Vic looked like he was ready to smile, but then he muttered. “Pain in my ass, every day of my life… damn babysitting duty.”
“The door.” Andrei winked at him. “You should probably open it for us.”
“How’s the finger healing up? Hmm Andrei?” This time he did grin as he opened the door. “What has it been? Ten months? A year?”
Andrei stiffened. “Remember, tit for tat. One day when you’re sleeping on the job, I’m going to take your pinky.”
Vic barked out a laugh. “Just make the cut straight so I can sew it back on, crazy bastard.”
“Swear.” Andrei put his free hand on his heart as he pulled me through the door.
What sort of people joked about stuff like that without breaking out the guns and getting into fights? In my own family joking like this only got you a black eye but these guys? They laughed! It was so unexpected I couldn’t stop staring at Vic or at Andrei and the exchange between them.
To be honest, I wasn’t expecting a dungeon per say, but I was expecting a lot of men sitting around staring at their guns, talking about their hatred for my family or the impending war between all of us.
Instead, the first thing that happened was an adorable little toddler ran up to me and hugged my legs. “Pretty dress!”
Stunned, I just stood there and then she looked up at me with these beautiful crystal blue eyes and repeated it again. “Pretty dress.”
“Thank you.” I smiled down at her. “I like your doll. What’s her name?”
Andrei didn’t leave my side, but I suddenly felt eyes on me.
Slowly I looked up, and anyone might think I’d just waltzed in there and announced I had a bomb strapped to my chest.
The guy from earlier, the one who wanted me dead, Chase, had an apron on and had stopped stirring what looked like sauce in the kitchen, his smile extremely amused while a woman who looked pregnant stood next to him a similar look on her face.
And then slowly I exhaled as I looked around the room while the little girl still clung to me like I was a Barbie doll.
I recognized all their faces.
Including their wives.
They were the monsters I had begged to save me.
The monsters that never came.
The ones I prayed would destroy us all so it would stop.
So he would stop visiting me in my room.
So the pain would stop.
Nixon Abandonato approached then, all six feet two inches of him, muscles on top of muscles, enough ink down his arms and legs to make a person dizzy, lethal, beautiful, dangerous.
He bent down and picked up the little girl.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her head beneath his chin. “Daddy, don’t you like her dress?”
Daddy?
This beautiful little creature was his daughter?
I felt suddenly dizzy as Nixon tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, it’s a beautiful dress, one you won’t be wearing until you’re thirty, all right Serena?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She beamed, apparently unaware that a tight cocktail dress wouldn’t be in her future for a very long time, or, if the look on his face was anything to go by… ever.
“Wow.” A voice came from the right, and there he was stomping into the kitchen looking every inch the rumored Italian Godfather, only young, so young and attractive it almost felt like a sick joke. “When I said to bring a girl… I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.”
Andrei shrugged. “Maybe I’m tired of your constant shit.”
“You love it.”
“Pink cupcakes.” Andrei actually looked relaxed as a grin spread across his face. “With sprinkles.”
“Knew you’d like that touch.” Chase laughed from his spot in the kitchen. “Would have paid to see Tex bring that in on the plate.”
“It had polka dots, the plate.”
“Don’t worry we have a Hello Kitty card for you too, all of us signed it,” Nixon joined in, a smirk on his face.
Andrei grumbled a curse.
“Happy birthday, man,” Nixon held out his hand.
Andrei tentatively shook it.
Wait. Was this a meeting?
Dinner?
Birthday party?
And then a gorgeous woman came around with a giant cake, two more women followed.
The wives.
Nixon’s wife Trace, Tex’s wife Mo, and Phoenix’s wife, Bee. The other women that were scattered around the room were already sitting drinking wine, Dante’s wife raised her glass to Andrei and grinned.
What sort of warped universe did I just walk into?
My father told me they tortured people at night.
&n
bsp; He said the monsters drank blood.
He made me think they were this thing of fiction, like a vampire or werewolf, with no soul, no heart, just killing.
“Well?” Nixon pointed to the cake. “Blow out your candles, old man.”
Andrei’s hand gripped on my hip.
I flashed him a quick smile. “You know if you don’t, they’ll probably just pull a gun on you.”
Nixon’s expression shifted, and then he narrowed his eyes on me. “Told her a lot about us, haven’t you?”
“Well.” I gulped. Here goes nothing. “I am his girlfriend, so…”
Everything happened all at once.
Trace tripped, the cake slid from the tray, Mo tried to grab it just in time for Chase to lean in and accidently shove them forward and then another guy standing behind Nixon turned.
Cake went flying across his face.
Candles included.
Oh shit, shit, shit.
It was Phoenix.
He used to be a De Lange.
My stomach sank.
He would recognize me.
He would.
I used to play at his house when my dad had meetings with his, when I was little and curious and had a stupid crush on him because he was five years older and looked so… pained.
Cake dripped from his face as he glared at Trace.
And then Trace stepped forward with a smile on her face and ran her finger down his cheek and sucked off the frosting. “Perfect, you like chocolate right, Phoenix?”
He glared and then went for her. “That’s it.” He pulled her into his arms and swung her around while she laughed and then rubbed his face all over her back. She lunged for Nixon who used his child as a shield, and Tex grabbed a bottle of wine and chugged directly from it while another tiny toddler came running with a wooden mallet screaming, “Thor, GOD OF THUNDER!”
Phoenix dropped to the ground. “Get them, Junior. Get Aunt Trace!”
He went running toward her.
And then Serena fought to get down and jumped in front of her mom. “Captain America attack!”
“Aw man!” Junior dropped his hammer and started yelling and convulsing on the ground.
“What’s he doing?” I asked under my breath.
A chuckle fell from Andrei’s lips, and I blinked up at him. He was beautiful when he smiled, absolutely gorgeous. I sucked in a shocked breath and quickly looked away.
Debase (Elite Bratva Brotherhood Book 1) Page 7
