Empire of Sin: An Enemies to Lovers Romance
Page 28
“Not particularly. I keep saying that I’m not husband material, but everyone refuses to believe me, so if I have to go through with this, it’ll be with the Pakhan’s blessings. And also…”
He trails off, his gaze getting lost, and for a second, a fraction even, I see a spark in his usually dead eyes. It’s a fire so hot that it nearly burns me, and it’s not even directed at me.
I follow his field of vision and catch a glimpse of a petite Asian girl who’s probably my age or younger.
She’s wearing a simple black dress and heels that match her hair and eyes and contrast against her pale skin. Two Asian men in suits stand on either side of her as she carries a plate of pastries.
The moment her gaze meets Damien’s, she freezes, as if the fire in his eyes could burn her from this distance.
Then she places the plate on the table, turns around, and leaves with a feather-like grace. The men follow after her, clicking their earpieces.
Are they from the Chinese triads? Or maybe the Yakuza?
I don’t get a chance to think about it further, because Damien pushes his glass of vodka into my free hand. The fire that ignited in his eyes a moment ago is now pitch-black and seems darker than I’ve ever seen.
Even more than when he kills people.
“Hold this for me,” he says in a calm yet charged tone, then he strides in the direction where the Asian girl just disappeared to.
Oh, well.
Is it wrong to hope that she’s Abe’s daughter and he changed his mind? I feel bad for the girl, but I also can’t marry Damien.
I feel like I might die.
Opting to get some air, I abandon the two glasses of vodka on the nearest table and go out to the balcony.
I let the cold night air wash over me. Goosebumps pop up on my bare arms and I welcome the shiver.
I tried to avoid getting dolled up today, but all I have are cocktail dresses and beautiful flowery ones, so that wasn’t really possible. I opted for a knee-length one that matches the eyes I’ve been continuously dreaming about.
Blowing out a puff of air, I retrieve my phone from my dress pocket. It’s a new one Papa got for me, where only his, Rai’s, Vladimir’s, and Damien’s numbers are saved.
It doesn’t matter, though, because I memorized not only his number but also two others I probably shouldn’t have.
I type one of them. No clue if it’s the stress of the inevitable or the longing I’ve felt for the week and a half I haven’t seen Knox. Not directly, at least, because I keep stalking him all over the media.
But I don’t think about it as I hit Call. My heart thumps loudly in my ears as I listen to it ring. Is it too late to hang up and pretend this call never happened?
As I’m about to do that, the distinctive sound of someone picking up greets me, followed by a serious female, “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me, Teal. Jane.”
There’s a long silence at the other end of the line, so long that my breathing thickens. I expected this reaction, but ever since Papa laid out her and Knox’s past in front of me, I couldn’t help feeling the need to talk to her.
Maybe I sensed this all along, which is why I memorized her and Elsa’s phone numbers. We exchanged them that one time we met, and Elsa might have forced Teal to do it. Before I changed phone numbers, Elsa used to send me good mornings and hellos and we chatted sometimes, but this is my first contact with Teal.
“This isn’t your number,” she says finally.
“I changed it.”
“Okay.”
I gulp again. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Teal, it’s her no-nonsense personality, so she’d expect me to get to the point soon.
“Listen, Teal…I…I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“Everything.”
“He told you?” There’s a tiny softness in her voice.
“Not exactly…”
“I knew he would.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. He looks at you differently. Almost like the way Ronan looks at me, and let’s just say I never expected to see that expression on my aimless brother’s face.”
“Teal…”
“So, what now? You feel sorry for us?”
“No. Of course…I…understand, or I hope I do. My childhood wasn’t a colorful one either since I was raised by an abusive father.” I pause, then blurt, “That doesn’t mean that I’m downplaying what you went through. I know it’s much more serious, and you guys are way more stronger than me. I called my biological father for help, but you found it on your own, and I guess what I’m trying to say is that I respect that. So much.”
There’s a pause before she says in a less defensive tone, “So you don’t pity us?”
“Absolutely not. I just…just want to hug him and you…and I’m not much of a hugger. Besides, I have a feeling you’re not either. But yeah, I don’t pity you.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t let anyone make my brother feel less than what he is. He deserves better.” Her voice lowers, and I think it breaks when she says, “He deserves the world for how he stood up for both of us.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know. And even if you did, it’s only his side of the story in which he must’ve made his role seem miniscule.”
“There’s another side?”
“Yes. Mine. What happened to us back then was…bad. It was so bad that we both consider it our lives’ black holes. But I was able to escape it at a younger age. Knox hasn’t. He buried it inside and thought it would magically heal, which is never the case. If anything, it will fester and become worse as the years go by. But do you know when the first time he allowed himself to be open, even a little, was? It was with you, and I could feel it, even if he doesn’t talk about it, even if he still considers himself my protector and wants to shield me from pain. I know I haven’t really been welcoming of you, but it takes me some time to warm up to people, so if you want, if you can, maybe we can meet sometimes?”
“I’m sorry, Teal.” My voice is brittle, wrong.
“Whatever for?”
“I don’t think it’s possible anymore. He and I…we belong to different worlds.”
“I thought that, too, when I first met my husband, but he’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received.”
“It’s not the same…I…my father is the leader of the Russian mafia,” I whisper the words, and feel so much shame, it heats my ears.
“So what?” Teal says.
“Huh?”
“I don’t see why that should be a problem if the two of you are fine with it.”
“Did you hear a word I said? My life is a disaster waiting to happen. There’s always danger everywhere.”
“It can’t be worse than how pained you sound right now, or how down Knox has sounded over the phone lately.”
My heart skips at the mention of his name and I tighten my hold on the phone. “He has?”
“He’s been perfectly miserable and I finally figured out why.”
“I…didn’t mean to. I just wanted to protect him.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You don’t understand…”
“It’s you who doesn’t understand. If he wants you, really wants you, he’ll shed blood for it, because that’s who he is. A fighter. He’s definitely not a coward who’ll run the other way at the first obstacle. So give each other a chance, okay?”
Her words draw the tears that I’ve kept at bay and I sniff. “But it’s too late. I’m engaged to be married.”
Teal says something, but I don’t hear her, because a violent rush goes through my limbs and goosebumps cover my skin.
And then I hear it.
The voice I’ll never forget for as long as I live.
“Like fuck you are.”
38
KNOX
The blood in my veins boils and threatens to spill over.
Partly because I’m seeing Anastasia after a long time of living
with her ghost and imagining her in every corner.
So seeing her right in front of me is no different than crashing into the wall created by my shadows.
Ever since I was young, they’ve tried everything to confine me within forts no one has access to.
But then Anastasia came along and she didn’t even search for the keys. She went for the walls themselves, demolishing them one by each and every one.
Then she had the audacity to leave as if she hadn’t inflicted that much damage.
As if she has no hold on my fucking soul.
My gaze rakes over her appearance, getting caught in her elegant dress and the way it fits her delicate curves.
She’s not hiding behind glasses or a different hair color. I almost forgot how blonde her hair is—icy, bordering on white, framing her face in a halo. She’s like an angel with her soft features, pale skin, and those blue, blue eyes.
Back then at the bar, they resembled a bright morning sky, but they’re gloomy right now, filled with moisture and a somber edge that stabs my gut.
It’s part of why I can’t contain my rage, why it’s treading on the edge of my control, about to snap it and wreak havoc on everything in its path.
But the biggest part is what I just overheard her say over the phone.
I’m engaged to be married.
As in, another fucker is calling her “fiancée” and he’ll put a ring on her finger and make her his wife.
A pressing weight perches on my chest at the thought and it’s hard to breathe properly. It’s even more difficult to keep myself in check and not destroy everything in my path.
Starting with him.
The fucker who thinks he could take Anastasia away from me.
“K-Knox…?” she stammers, her soft voice unsure, as if she doesn’t believe I’m standing here.
I wouldn’t have believed it either a week ago. But ever since Daniel confirmed my doubts about her and I put all the pieces of the puzzle together, I had to find her again.
I had to rectify things.
“You were expecting someone else?” I can’t control the venom in my tone. “Your fiancé perhaps?”
“Oh my God, you’re really here…” I expected anything from her reaction—the initial shock, shame, maybe even anger, but when she starts shaking and her grip releases her phone, letting it clatter to the floor, the last emotion I expected takes refuge in her eyes.
Fear.
Deep, raw, and absolutely gutting. It’s like she’s seeing her worst nightmare coming true.
Or maybe the scariest ghost from her childhood nightmares.
She lunges at me, grabbing my arm with her unsteady one. “You have to go. You can’t be here…”
I effortlessly pull free of her hold. “This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“No…” She’s shaking her head, her frantic gaze searching behind me for something or someone, I’m not sure.
“On the contrary, it’s a fucking yes, beautiful.”
“You don’t understand…”
I grab her by her slim shoulders, shaking her. “It’s you who doesn’t seem to understand the reality of things. Did you really think pulling that stunt with Daniel and disappearing on me would mean I’d let you go? You can run to the other side of the world, invent a new fucking identity and name and life, and I would still find you. You’re mine, fucking mine, and that means there’s no fucking escaping me. There’s no escaping us.”
A tear slides down her cheek and clings to her upper lip. I don’t think as I lean over and lick it, my tongue clinging to her skin as I taste the saltiness. Then I drag my tongue up her cheek, licking the tear, and when I reach her eyes, I kiss the closed lid. I kiss those ethereally blue eyes that I haven’t stopped thinking about since the first time I saw them.
Her nails sink into my forearms and she digs them in deeply, but nothing is deep enough to push me off her, so I continue kissing her tears and feasting on her taste.
“I lied to you,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.
I pull back but don’t let her go. “About what?”
“About who I am. Where I come from. My family. All of it.”
“You didn’t lie. You just hid it. I knew all along there was more to the birth of Jane’s identity.”
“It’s because…I’m…I’m…”
“The daughter of the New York Bratva’s Pakhan. I know.”
“And you still came?” She stares incredulously, some of her earlier fear slipping back into her eyes. “What is wrong with you?”
“You.” I breathe out the word, leaning my forehead against hers. “You are everything that’s wrong with me, beautiful. You took something of mine and I need it back.”
“Stop saying things like that…Knox…please, listen to me, you have to go. If Papa or any of the others see you—”
“I’m not scared of them.”
She pushes at my chest with her fists, but there’s no energy behind it, as if she doesn’t want to be doing it. “Any person in their right mind would be. They kill in the blink of an eye and without any remorse. You’ll just be another nameless person on their list.”
“I’m not in my right fucking mind, Anastasia. I told you just now, you took something of mine. My fucking sanity included.”
She clutches my hand, her grip clammy and still shaking, then guides me in from the balcony, her gaze watching every nook and cranny like a hawk.
“Where are you taking me, beautiful?”
“Shh.” She shakes her head at me, then leads me to some stairs that are hidden from the main staircase.
I’ve been in mafia leaders’ houses before when I was either investigating something or on a case. But the Russian Bratva’s compound, aka Sergei Sokolov’s mansion, is more like a billionaire’s home that you could easily get lost in.
That’s Anastasia’s real last name. Sokolov. I finally have a full profile of the mysterious girl with the bright eyes and soft smile.
She basically drags me up the stairs, down a hall, and then pushes me into a room. The moment she closes the door, she releases a breath, but she doesn’t relax her hold on my hand.
I throw a quick glance at the room and it doesn’t take me long to realize it’s hers.
There’s a giant desk on the corner with three monitors, but the rest of it is girly. The bedsheets have a butterfly motif and the creamy wallpaper has flowers on it.
She’s always been a conundrum of opposing things, but they still fit her character so well.
They still speak so much of her and who she is.
A soft woman with a secret wild side.
“So this is where you lived all this time.”
She gives me the stink eye. “That’s not what should be important right now.”
“Then what is?” I step to her and she visibly swallows. “I think it’s hot to see where you sleep every night in nothing but shorts. Maybe even naked?”
“S-stop it.” Her voice is breathy, but arousal coats it.
My hand reaches forward and I wrap it around her throat, squeezing the sides a little. She briefly closes her eyes, releasing a chopped exhale, and I tighten my hold. I need to feel her, to be able to breathe again, but the fact that she’s relieved as well? That when she opens her eyes, they’re filled with a wave of longing that’s as strong as mine? Those facts nearly make me go crazy.
And I have to grip her harder, to sink my fingers into her flesh and make sure she’s here.
She’s right here.
“Knox…I…”
“Shhh.” I place a finger to her mouth and push her back with my hold on her throat.
A yelp echoes in the air as she trips on the edge of the bed and falls on her back. I follow with her, my free hand gripping her hip.
She slams her hands on my chest. “D-don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Don’t turn me onto my stomach. I want to look at you,” she whispers, her tone as vulnerable as the look on her face.
The pleading in her eyes, the vulnerability in them.
Also, a part of me is fighting it, too. It’s the same part that couldn’t survive without her and has turned my life into a living hell since she’s been gone.
Her palms flatten on my chest and she softens her voice. “I know, Knox…I know about your past and why you find it hard to get close and I understand, I—”
“Stop talking.” The rage from earlier resurfaces again and this time, it’s for entirely different reasons.
The shadows swirl around my head in a thick fog with the need to hurt her.
To shut up the woman who shouldn’t have seen them in the first place.
But I clamp that need down, my fingers flexing so I don’t hurt her. “How the fuck do you know?”
“P-Papa…he can find out everything about anyone.”
“Fuck.” My fist clenches and I realize it’s on her throat. She’s wheezing, her face reddening from the lack of air, and I release her with a jerk and start to sit up, but she grabs my cheeks, pulling me back down.
I use my arms to keep from crushing her with my weight, but Anastasia doesn’t stop there, she doesn’t stop with her fingers stroking my face or when her tits are inches from my heaving chest.
Her eyes trap mine and her voice trembles a little when she speaks, “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide from me. You don’t have to look the other way or be ashamed of who you are.”
“Even though I was a whore?”
“You weren’t.” The certainty and power in her voice stabs me in the fucking part of my chest I thought died twenty years ago. “You were an abused child and it wasn’t your fault. It was theirs, your mother’s and whoever she brought over. Just like it was my stepfather’s fault that my mom was abused and beaten to death. It’s never the victim’s fault, no matter what anyone says.”
I wipe the tears that have escaped her lids with my thumb. “Don’t cry, not for this.”
She shakes her head, her hold tightening on my cheeks. “Don’t you get it? Ever since I learned about your past, I couldn’t sleep at night. I wanted to run away again, to find you and just hold you close. If I could, I would take it all for myself so you wouldn’t have to be shackled by it anymore. Your pain is mine, Knox. I feel it deep in my heart and I can’t stop thinking about it.”