MAFIA: Dark Romance Collection

by Silver, Kiera

  She nodded. “I believe you, Lyosha.” Strangely enough, she did believe him. Despite the dark and murky waters in which he swam, he’d always been honest with her, and she didn’t think he could fake whatever it was he was feeling. She was feeling the same, though she still was in no frame of mind to label it.

  * * *

  Remembering his instructions to be demure, Tara chose an almost virginal gown of flowing white material that fit high on her neck and back, and had long sleeves, though they were diaphanous. The skirt had a handkerchief hem that flowed around her in an innocent fashion, making her look sweet and unthreatening.

  Paired with a simple pair of gold flats, and no makeup, she hoped it gave the right look. As a final touch, she wound her hair into a braid and left it flowing down her back in a single plait, again hoping to add to the impression that she was young and naïve. Only a woman who was naïve would be able to fall in love with her captor and embrace a life at his side, and she needed to fool Vasile into believing that was exactly what had happened.

  As she turned from the mirror, a sneaky voice at the back of her mind suggested there wouldn’t be a whole lot of pretending involved in the act. She crushed that voice ruthlessly, in no mood to examine her complex feelings for the mafia man who was both her warden and her lover. Now was certainly not the time with the daunting prospect looming over her of failing whatever test this Vasile was imposing upon her. She hadn’t asked Alexei, and she didn’t think she needed to in order to know the answer to what would happen to her if she failed.

  Soon enough, Alexei came for her, the appreciation in his gaze briefly quelling the flutter of nerves in her stomach as she slid her arm through his and walked with him from the room. “I’m so nervous,” she whispered out the side of her mouth as they climbed down the stairs and headed toward the dining room.

  His response did nothing to offset her nervousness. “As am I, lisichka.”

  They were in the dining room before she had a chance to reply, and she wouldn’t know what to say anyway. Maybe at some point, she should have a chat with Alexei about learning to tell the difference when someone wanted blunt honesty and when they wanted to be reassured, even if it meant telling a slight untruth.

  She would have preferred a white lie and something comforting along the lines of she had nothing to worry about instead of his bald honesty. Still, it would help keep her sharp to know that he was fearful of the situation as well.

  As soon as she entered the room, her gaze fell on Vasile, and she couldn’t look away. He was a large man, bordering on corpulent, but he had an intimidating presence that made her instinctively take a step back. If Alexei hadn’t been there to hold her arm, she probably would have turned and fled right then.

  That impulse didn’t sit well with her, and she squared her shoulders as she walked deeper into the dining room with Alexei, barely hiding a grimace when he seated her beside the old man. He could have warned her about that first, she thought with a dirty look in his direction.

  Vasile stared at her for a moment, his eyes drilling into her as though he was reading her thoughts. She hoped not, because he wouldn’t find anything flattering about himself or the bratva in her mind.

  The entrance of the maid distracted him from his perusal, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief as they started the meal with borscht. The relief was short-lived as Vasile made her the focus of his concentration.

  “Tell me about your family, Miss Noland.”

  She dabbed her mouth with a napkin before returning it to her lap and setting her spoon into the bowl of borscht. Her appetite was almost nonexistent thanks to the knot in her stomach, so it was no sacrifice to give up the pretense of eating.

  “My mother died when I was young, and my baby sister was only eighteen months at the time. My dad was a soldier, and he did his full twenty. He’s in Egypt right now working as a civilian contractor, so we don’t see much of him.” That hadn’t changed upon his retirement. He’d always been gone more than he had been home, and consequently, neither she nor Tonya were especially close to Terrence.

  “I see. And what is your profession, or what did you do before you came here?”

  She almost blurted out she was still doing her job before she realized that was the sort of thing that Alexei would probably be reprimanded for if she admitted he was allowing her any sort of outside contact, even those still carefully vetted weeks after her arrival and them falling into a relationship that was somewhat undefined. “I was a translator.”

  He frowned slightly. “Like for the government? Did you work for the CIA, perhaps translating Russian to English?”

  She shook her head, struggling to hide the fear spiking inside her at his fearsome expression. “No, sir. Mostly, I translated articles and books, along with some business documents for different companies. It was all very boring and tedious. There was nothing exciting involved, and certainly nothing like being a spy.” She struggled for a lighthearted tone, hoping he would either think she was a vapid idiot or believe she had nothing to hide, and he had no reason to fear her presence.

  He’d abandoned all pretense of eating as well, and his gaze bored into her as he continued to question her about her life. She could feel Alexei tensing beside her, and she put her hand on his thigh midway through the interrogation in an attempt to soothe him and keep him from saying or doing something he would regret.

  By the time Vasile had asked her about the number of lovers she’d had, and she answered through gritted teeth, she’d had just about enough of the conversation. She was at the point that she was holding on only for Alexei’s sake, and to protect Tonya as well, in case the old man decided to declare some sort of vengeance on all her family.

  He was a loathsome little toad, no matter how large he really was, and it was the first time she could remember feeling genuine hatred for someone. Even Tarlington hadn’t made her feel this enraged. Even when Alexei had first taken her, subjecting her to hours of pleasure that ended with no release, she hadn’t felt as violated as she did by the foul man’s personal questions.

  Finally, dinner drew to a close. It had been an uncomfortable affair for everyone, and even Ivan seemed subdued, though unaware of the undertones. Lev shot her sympathetic look as he got to his feet to assist Ivan to his room, seeming eager to escape. She felt the same way, but she sat beside Alexei, who had made no move to leave the table. Neither had Vasile.

  The old man gave her a charming smile, but it chilled her to the bone. “It was very enlightening speaking with you, Miss Noland. Thank you for indulging my questions.”

  “Of course. I’m certain you’re only feeling protective of Alexei and want to make sure I’m not going to hurt him.” She took his hand that was on the table beside her, squeezing firmly. She gave him a loving look that she didn’t have to fake before she turned a cooler expression back to his uncle. “I hope you realize I would never hurt Alexei.”

  He didn’t speak to her again, but he did nod in her direction. She was about to make herself scarce, assuming there was business to discuss, when Vasile spoke to Alexei in Russian. She was picking up the language rapidly, and though she didn’t understand everything the other man said, it was enough to make her blood run cold.

  “Get rid of her. You can’t risk having her testify against you.”

  Alexei stiffened, and Tara struggled to keep her expression pleasant, not wanting to reveal that she had pieced together most of what the other man had said. He didn’t seem like he would be pleased to know she could speak a bit of Russian. It would probably be the final nail in her coffin, so to speak, because then he would be convinced she was spying on their activities—and never mind the logical fact that she hadn’t even spoken Russian or known anything about the family until she’d happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  He nodded to both of them as he pushed away from the table and exited the dining room. They sat stiffly without speaking for several minutes, before she let out a harsh breath and collapsed
forward on the table.

  “I take it you understood most of what he said?”

  She nodded, misery welling in her. “He basically handed down a death sentence, didn’t he?”

  Alexei nodded, but then his expression changed slightly. “Yes, he wants to ensure you can’t testify against me.”

  “I wouldn’t.” She turned slightly to face him, clutching his hand in hers. “I understand now why you killed Slava. I don’t approve of it, but nor do I approve of the fact that he was selling men, women, and children for personal gain. I’m not going to tell anybody what I saw. You could just let me go. Make me disappear somewhere, and he never has to know the difference.”

  Alexei took her hand, forcing her to loosen her fingers and stretch out her palm so he could caress it lightly. “Calm down, lisichka. I have a plan, and there will be no need for you to disappear or to die.”

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  With an enigmatic grin, he pushed back his seat and pulled her to her feet too. “Let me think on it a bit more and plan out the details before I share with you.”

  She glared at him. “You can be so frustrating and closed off.”

  He put his arm around her waist, deliberately cupping her buttocks to squeeze gently. “You’ll know soon enough, so stop complaining. Just know I won’t hurt you, and I won’t let him hurt you either.”

  She was reassured by the promise in his tone, though she wished he would tell her what he was thinking. Any plan had to be better than allowing Vasile to do away with her though.

  Chapter Eight

  She stared at the short man in a dark suit, mouth agape, as Alexei stood on the man’s other side. “You’re out of your mind, Varnakov.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s this or death, lisichka. You can’t testify against me if you’re married to me.”

  She shook her head. “No, I won’t do it.” Marrying him was just too much. It was accepting everything about Alexei, the good and the bad, and it was agreeing to submit to this way of life for the rest of hers. Before, there’d been some choice in the matter. Oh, she wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d had a choice about leaving him, but she had the choice of not completely embracing him or staying voluntarily. Before, she had known there was no escape, but she had left herself open to the possibility. While accepting his ring and taking his name would secure her safety, it would also mean embracing her captivity. Hell, it would be like giving it a stamp of approval. That was asking too much from her. “No. Absolutely not. We’re not getting married, Alexei. It’s insane.”

  He frowned at her, clearly surprised by her reluctance. “What’s the problem? It’s a piece of paper, we will sign it, and then you’re no longer a threat to my uncle.”

  “I’m not a threat now.”

  Alexei sighed, looking pained by her continued refusal. “Yes, but he does not acknowledge that, Tara. You know the alternative. All you have to do is sign the paper, and Judge Harper here will ensure everything is filed.”

  He expected her to marry him, and not even with a proper ceremony. She wasn’t certain if that was better or worse. The idea of maintaining the farce during a drawn-out ceremony that involved their friends and family didn’t appeal, but neither did this “dirty little secret” marriage that they seemed to be arranging in the dark of night.

  “I don’t understand why you brought the judge here instead of us going to him, or having a ceremony like normal people. I know we’re not normal people, or at least you aren’t, but most people don’t just sign a marriage license in the middle of the night and call their union blessed.”

  Alexei gave the judge a sharp look and angled his head to the door. The other man got the message quickly, fleeing from the room as though being chased by the hounds of hell. “This is the safest way to do it, lisichka. I don’t like this sordid affair, but we need to get the marriage done and registered before Vasile catches wind of it. After it’s a done deal, you’ll no longer be able to testify, but before it happens, you’re still vulnerable, and if he discovers my workaround, he won’t be pleased. Marrying me is the only protection you have.”

  She threw up her hands in the air, frustrated and annoyed. “I thought living as your captive was the only protection I had, and all I’d ever need. I want to marry for love, Alexei, and not because I’m being forced into it to protect us both.”

  His lips thinned, but his eyes looked wounded. She held her breath as he started to speak, wondering if she had tossed out those words hoping to prompt some sort of admission from him. The kind of admission that involved three little words that would make marrying him a lot more palatable.

  Instead, he said, “Sign the damn papers when the judge comes back, or you’ll be sorry. I won’t be able to protect you, and I won’t be able to protect Tonya either. If you want out of this mess alive, put your signature on the line and become my wife.”

  She shivered under the intensity of his words, recognizing the truth in them. She didn’t think Alexei was threatening Tonya, or using her sister against her as leverage. He was simply pointing out the truth of the matter, and that was if Vasile was feeling vindictive, he would order not only her death, but Tonya’s as well.

  It didn’t make it any easier to accept she was being forced to marry a man who didn’t love her, and who she…wasn’t sure how she felt. That was a copout, but she gladly embraced it rather than face any other unwelcome truths that evening. Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. “Yeah, okay. Send in the judge.”

  He looked grim as he went to the door to fetch the man in the suit, who didn’t even conduct the briefest of ceremonies to declare them husband and wife. He just simply indicated which lines required their signatures before shaking Alexei’s hand—and accepting a wad of folded bills in the process—and slipping away from the room.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Varnakov,” said Alexei, sounding bitter.

  “Yeah, you too.” She couldn’t choke back a sob, and she rushed from the room where he had led her when he’d woken her less than an hour ago. She had gotten married in her pajamas, if she could even call it a marriage ceremony. There had been no love words, or really words of any kind except protest and duress.

  As she returned to the suite she shared with Alexei, she felt the most miserable she had since arriving there, at least since becoming his lover. Becoming his wife made her feel sad and empty, but she suspected she would have had a completely different reaction under other circumstances—circumstances involving admissions of love, a shiny diamond ring, a proper proposal, and a joining witnessed by the people most important to them.

  It wasn’t the trappings of the wedding ceremony that she grieved for so much as the emotional void that the act left in her. It should have been the happiest day of her life, but it was one of the saddest nights ever instead.

  * * *

  After that first night, when he didn’t come to her to consummate their marriage, she was certain they had drifted apart and would never be happy again. She would wither away into a ball of resentment and unsatisfied lust, destined to be emotionally bereft for what remained of her life.

  Fortunately, she had been a melodramatic idiot. After a day of silence, they had sought each other out, and though they hadn’t spoken of the dreadful little ceremony, she hadn’t turned away when he had offered her an engagement ring and matching wedding band. There was one for him too, and her hand had shook as she slid it on his third finger.

  They didn’t speak or exchange vows full of flowery words or promises of love, but there was something solemn and binding in the simple act of trading the rings and putting them on each other. It took little effort after that to settle into their together life again, which remained largely unchanged over the next two days, other than a flood of cards and gifts from people who’d heard about the marriage. Alexei had let it leak, knowing the world needed to see her as his bride before Vasile found out.

  She was starting to feel optimistic about their chances of pulling it off, both as a ma
rried couple and of finding a solution to Vasile’s demand that Alexei do away with her. Her optimism came to a screaming halt the afternoon she saw a long limousine drawing up the driveway.

  Alexei had mentioned nothing about visitors, and somehow she knew before the driver even opened the door of the gray limousine that Vasile was seated inside. When he stepped out, he looked up, and it was uncanny, as though he had homed in directly on her location with his hawk-like eyes.

  She had to resist the urge to step away from the window and hide behind the curtain, telling herself she was being ridiculous. He couldn’t really see her three stories up. A moment later, he looked toward the house and walked forward, soon disappearing from her line-of-sight. She stood indecisively for a moment, uncertain whether she should hide in the room or seek out Alexei. She wouldn’t be able to warn him in advance that his uncle was there, but it seemed important to present a united front.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, or allow Alexei time to post a guard to keep her in the room in case he was trying to protect her, she left the room and headed downstairs. She appreciated his protective nature, but she had a sinking feeling there was no way Alexei could protect her from what was coming.

  Now it seemed silly that she had wasted so much time fretting about the lack of ceremony, or worrying about a lack of love between them. As she crossed the last few feet and entered Alexei’s office, she knew she was an idiot. There was plenty of love between them. It might not have been conventional, and it was probably completely incomprehensible to anyone who knew the full reality of their circumstances—fortunately a small number—but the truth was there for everyone to see.

  Looking into his eyes as she got closer, seeing the fear for her there, she knew he loved her. At that moment, she admitted she loved him too, if only to herself. Perhaps later, there would be a chance to tell him. If not, and he was forced to order her death, it would be better if she didn’t give him those words as a parting gift to lug around beside his other baggage of guilt and grief.