Empire of Sin: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Rina Kent

  I release a large gulp of air when none of the guards follow him.

  He should be safe.

  For now.

  “Adrian, Vladimir,” Papa starts. “Wait for me in my office.”

  They comply with a nod, even though Vlad hesitates. Adrian gives me a knowing look, one I don’t really understand, but for some reason, I want to believe it’s a good sign.

  Papa goes into my room and I take the cue to follow him, my body heavy and exhausted, which has nothing to do with the way Knox took me ruthlessly, then gently, worshipping my body in ways I’ve never felt before.

  As much as I want to think of him, I force myself to shake those thoughts away. I really shouldn’t be picturing Knox and sex when Papa’s shoulders are crowding with tension. He stands by my desk and watches the monitors as if it’s the first time he’s seen them.

  Well, he rarely comes into my room, but he was the one who bought me my setup when I first started getting hooked on coding and computers.

  He’s also the one who took it away when I came back by severing the power cables in my room.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go into computer engineering,” he says with no animosity, running his long, meaty fingers across the mouse pad.

  Papa might have gotten old, but nothing, absolutely nothing could erase the power that radiates off him. My uncle was more ruthless, louder, and a man not to be messed with. My papa seemed the more approachable one, the strategist of sorts, but everyone knows Papa has the type of power that simmers beneath the surface and only shows when it’s necessary.

  It’s not by a stroke of luck that everyone in the Bratva respects him. Men like Adrian, Vlad, Kirill, and even Damien see him as their Pakhan, and those men don’t bend the knee to just anyone.

  Even Kyle, Rai’s husband, a merciless hitman who has no allegiance to anyone but himself, considers Papa the leader. Rai’s love and adoration for my father plays a role, but still.

  “If you hadn’t, maybe you wouldn’t have left,” he continues.

  “I would’ve found a way to protect Babushka after you sent her back to Russia.”

  “She’s no good for you. That woman only fills your head with flowery dreams that have no place in our world.”

  “Papa, please don’t hurt her—”

  “You think I’m heartless enough to hurt a dying woman?”

  “I don’t know. You really won’t hurt her?”

  “No.”

  “T-thank you, Papa.”

  “If you really want to thank me, then do as you’re told and forget about the British lawyer.”

  My chest deflates. “It’s not up to me. I…can’t. He makes me feel special, like my existence has meaning. He doesn’t see me as your daughter or the Bratva’s sheltered princess, he sees me as me. Just me. And I want that, Papa. I want to get out of yours and the brotherhood’s shadow. I want to be me.”

  I gulp in air after my word vomit. I wouldn’t have been able to say those words if he were facing me. Even though I’m grown now, he’s still that god-like man who finished my stepfather’s life in a blink.

  Papa slowly turns around and I expect anger, but his expression remains unperturbed.

  I wait for him to say something, but the door barges open and I startle. Damien waltzes inside with that black cat swagger of his.

  “I’m sorry, Boss.” My father’s senior guard peeks in. “I’ll escort him out.”

  Damien tilts his head in the guard’s direction. “First of all, fuck you. Second of all, fuck off before I stab you.”

  Papa motions at his senior guard to leave and he snarls at Damien. “Wait in my office with the others, Orlov.”

  “I just want to say something and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “What?” my father asks with a note of impatience.

  “As much as I appreciate Nastyusha for being a vodka lover, I can’t marry her.”

  My lips part and I stare at Damien with wide eyes. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected him to back off. Not after he said he wouldn’t get on my father’s bad side for something he considers trivial—marriage.

  “Why not?” Papa’s voice hardens.

  “Remember that word I gave to Abe about marrying his daughter? I’m keeping it, after all.”

  “You were fine with breaking it not too long ago.”

  A dark smile lifts Damien’s lips and he looks like a fallen angel. “That was before I knew who my future wife-to-be is.”

  “That doesn’t change anything, Orlov.”

  “Yes, it does, Pakhan.”

  “Are you choosing a Japanese over a Russian?”

  “I’m choosing the Japanese for us. Believe me, you’ll like what I do with this whole fucking thing. Besides, Nastyusha loves that lawyer and I’d rather not kill a citizen and have her slice my throat in my sleep.” He grins at me. “You owe me one.”

  And with that, he turns around and leaves, humming a tune.

  I keep staring at his back, but that only lasts for a second, until Papa’s guard closes the door.

  Before I can wrap my head around what Damien said, Papa’s clipped voice reaches me. “You’ll marry Kirill or Vladimir.”

  “Papa!”

  “Pick one.”

  “Vlad is like my older brother.”

  “Kirill then.”

  “Papa, please, no. He’s even worse than Damien. Not only is he cunning and manipulative, but he’ll also only use me to become the Pakhan.”

  “So be it.”

  Tears slide down my face. “Is that all I’ve ever been to you? A pawn on a chessboard? A prize for the most suitable?”

  He’s silent for a beat before he lets out a long exhale. “I have lung cancer, Nastyusha.”

  “W-what?”

  “I’m in remission, but the doctors say I could relapse at any time and I might have to start counting my days.”

  The room sways but I realize it’s me as I grab onto the nearest chair and use it as support. The information he just revealed pricks my skin over and over.

  Papa has cancer—or used to.

  “Oh, God, is this why you wanted to marry me off that time, but Rai volunteered to do it? You wanted to pick a new Pakhan, too.”

  “Yes. Only Rai and Vladimir know about my illness and we’ve kept it a secret from everyone else on purpose. I wanted to choose someone suitable for you before my time is up.”

  I don’t think about it as I approach him until I’m so close, I can see how pale his skin is. Now that I think about it, right before I left, there were times when he pulled away from me and even refused to see me. And that pained me more than I admitted. It hurt to be just a wallflower in his house.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Papa?”

  “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “But I’m your daughter. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

  “You’ve always seen me as strong and powerful. That day I shot that lowlife, you looked at me as if I were a god, and I selfishly needed you to continue looking at me as such. I don’t want you to witness me weak and coughing up blood.”

  “I don’t care…I just want to be there for you like you were there for me when I was young.”

  He offers me his hand and I take it, sniffling back the tears. “Nastyusha…listen to me. You have to marry within the brotherhood to remain protected.”

  “No, Papa, I can’t. I just can’t marry Kirill or anyone else when I’m in love with Knox. It’ll kill me slowly.”

  “Nastyusha…”

  “Please give him a chance, Papa. Please. You’d be surprised to see the lengths he’d go to protect me and be there for me.”

  “What if he doesn’t succeed?”

  “He will.” I have no doubt.

  Because I realized something today.

  Knox and I might belong to different worlds, but we belong together, and once we both put our minds to it, nothing can stop us.

  40

  KNOX

 
I meant what I told Anastasia. If she doesn’t call me today, I’m going back there, to the men she fears and doesn’t want to defy.

  Her father will either have to give her back to me or he might as well shoot me. That’s the only way I would ever give up on her.

  Fucking death.

  I try to work normally, to pretend I’m a functioning human being, even though every neuron is urging me to go and find her.

  Ten more hours, I tell myself.

  Just ten more hours and I’ll go find her.

  My desk has been crowded with cases since the Bell trials made me famous—more than before—so I have even more people wanting me to represent them. I’ll have to go through the details and choose which ones I’ll take on.

  I know for sure they’re going to be cases for people like me—abused, broken, and with shadows crowding their lives twenty-four-seven. I always thought such cases weren’t good for me; they’d trigger me, which is why I turned them down.

  I used to put myself first, not caring about the fate of others. But through Sandra’s case, I realized just how wrong that is. Yes, I’m allowed to feel pain, but not at the expense of ignoring theirs. I can have shadows, but I’m not supposed to be blinded to theirs.

  It might have taken me some time to come to this conclusion, but better late than never.

  And all of it is because of her, the woman who told me I could be a voice for those who have no voice. A bit like her, a bit like her mother.

  She didn’t give up, even though she barely knew me at the beginning. She pushed on and on until I conceded.

  She’s resilient that way, my Anastasia.

  And now, I’m back to thinking about her, about how she begged me to leave, how she implored and insisted with those eyes that I can’t stop picturing.

  It’s not lack of work that keeps me sitting in my chair, hands crossed behind my head, and staring at the ceiling.

  I should’ve probably taken the day off and stalked her house, hoping the armed guards wouldn’t chop my head off.

  And honestly? It’d be bloody worth it.

  When I told Daniel about my plan for last night, he called me a crazy arsehole, so I might as well live up to the expectations.

  The door opens and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  Speak of the fucking devil.

  He swings it shut with his foot and storms in my direction, holding his phone and grinning like a bloody fool.

  He removes his AirPods and comes to my side, then holds the phone up. On the screen, there’s everyone from back home. Well, not literally, but most of them.

  They’re gathered at a huge dinner table in the home of Jonathan King. Elsa’s father-in-law and Aiden’s father, who’s even worse than the sorry cunt.

  Jonathan is sitting with his much younger wife. There’s Elsa and her shadow—sorry, husband—Aiden, and their son, Eli, who’s, unfortunately, turning out to be more and more like his father instead of his mother. It’s those destructive King genes, I swear.

  Ronan and Teal are smiling at me while holding a giggling Remi, who keeps chanting, “Nokth…Nokth…”

  There’s also the rest of my group of friends from secondary school, Xander and his wife Kim, and their daughter, who’s hiding her face in her father’s shirt.

  The silent motherfucker with serial killer vibes, Cole, and the woman who tamed that destructive side of him, Silver.

  And last but not least, the reason behind this call and who’s holding the phone, Astrid. She’s Daniel’s best friend and always includes him in everything that happens back home with live video calls.

  Her husband, Levi, another one with the destructive Kings, keeps watching her while simultaneously holding their twin boys. It’s their birthday, I realize, because of the huge cake with “Landon” and “Brandon” written on it.

  “Say hi to my bug, Knox!” Daniel says in his cheerful tone.

  “You’re my bug, Dan!” Astrid protests.

  “I agree to that. If anyone is a bug, then it’s this one.” I smile, waving at T and Ron and they wave back. My brother-in-law is making a show of it like the cheeky bastard he is and even making his son join in.

  “That’s your uncle, Remi. And while you can love him, you’re not allowed to become as desperate as he is, mkay?”

  “Says the one who sent a thousand clingy texts to his wife back in secondary school,” Xan teases.

  Ron glares at him. “Hey! You shut the fuck up before I expose you.”

  “I still have the screenshots,” Xan continues taunting.

  “Me, too.” Aiden smirks, one hand playing with his son’s hair and the other stroking Elsa’s hand on the table. He always has to be touching her in some way.

  “Me three,” Cole says with a perfectly straight face, wrapping a hand around Silver’s shoulder. “And I might have taken a picture of a recent clingy conversation as well.”

  “You fucking—”

  “Language at my table, Astor,” Jonathan says in his usual stern tone.

  “Just let them be.” Aurora laughs, entwining her fingers with his. “It’s fun.”

  “Dear Aurora,” Ron starts in his fake dramatic tone. “I’ll show you what fun is when I burn Cole’s next special edition book.”

  “Not if you still need your life,” Cole says coolly.

  “Hey.” Teal stares at Cole. “Stop ganging up on him or you’ll have me to answer to.”

  “What she said. I’ll also sue you for emotional distress, and my beloved brother-in-law will win the case.”

  I raise a brow. “The same brother-in-law you’re telling your son not to grow up to be?”

  He laughs, but it’s a bit forced. “I was just kidding… Listen, Remi, your uncle Knox is the best there is. You can definitely become like him.” Then he whispers, “Not.”

  “I heard that.” I glare. “And I might be thinking about representing Cole in this case.”

  “Nooo,” Ron says dramatically. “Not you, too, Knox.”

  Laughter breaks out around the table, and Dan and I laugh as well before he shouts, “Happy birthday, Lan and Bran. Your favorite uncle sends you the best wishes.”

  Astrid brings the phone down so that she’s occupying most of the picture. “You could’ve been here instead.”

  “I have work.”

  “More like, he doesn’t want to run into a certain blondie.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” He snatches the phone and continues talking to Astrid on his way out, subtly changing the subject.

  But I follow after him. What? The best way to kill time is to get on Dan’s nerves.

  I wrap an arm around his shoulder and join in on the conversation. “He’s so traumatized that he’s been having PTSD episodes whenever I send a blonde hooker to his place.”

  There’s laughter from the other end, and Levi slides to his wife’s side, still holding his boys. “I told you there was more to it, Princess, but you refused to believe me.”

  A frown appears on her forehead. “Is it true, bug?”

  “They’re all little fuckers who love instigating chaos. Don’t listen to them.” He tries to push me off him, but I tighten my hold as Levi and I egg him on while Astrid tries and fails to take his side.

  He hangs up as soon as we’re by the door and gives me the stink eye. “Can’t you stop?”

  “What?” I grin. “Talking about your trauma from a certain blonde?”

  “If you don’t quit the wanker behavior, I’m going to fuck with you as well.”

  “Pray tell, how will you do that?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but Anastasia and I are close. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Like fuck you will.”

  “Then stop being a motherfucking dick.” He pushes me away. “And don’t send anymore hookers to my place.”

  “I’ll decide that according to how you behave.” I open the door to my office. “Now, let’s go annoy Sebastian or Nate, because I’m bored.”

  “Now that’s what I’
m talking about…” he trails off, and all his words and movements come to a halt.

  I follow his line of vision and smile when I find the reason behind his state, then squeeze his shoulder. “My, my, Dan. Isn’t that the blonde who made you hate all blondes?”

  Instead of the anger I expected, his lips pull in a dark smirk. “The one and only.”

  By the time I get to W&S’s parking garage, I’m ready to go to the Pakhan’s house and kidnap Anastasia if I have to.

  Yes, there are still a few hours until the deadline, but there hasn’t been any news from her. Not even a peep.

  And I don’t have the patience to wait any longer.

  My feet come to a halt when I approach my car. Two tall, muscular men in black suits are standing in front of me.

  One of them lifts his jacket, subtly showing me his gun as he motions to a black car with tinted windows that’s parked near mine.

  I don’t have to wonder who it is. It must be Anastasia’s father or someone close to him.

  One of the guards frisks me, confiscates my briefcase, then pushes me not-so-gently in the direction of the car and opens the door. Sure enough, Anastasia’s father is sitting in the back seat with an erect posture and his vision focused ahead.

  “If you’d told me you were coming, I would’ve made reservations at a nice restaurant,” I speak calmly.

  “Drop the sarcasm. I already have an English bastard who’s excellent at that. I don’t need another one.”

  I straighten, staring at him. Does that mean he’s going to accept me as a member of his family? For some reason, I thought I’d have to prove myself to him some more.

  “Why do you want to be with my daughter? Think carefully before you reply.”

  “I don’t need to. Your daughter is the woman who added purpose to my life and I can’t imagine it without her anymore—”

  “That’s a very selfish reason.”

  “That’s because you didn’t let me finish. Your daughter is the woman who makes me a complete man, with flaws and all, and I will protect her with my life if I have to.”

  “What if you can’t?”

  “I can.” There’s zero doubt in my mind and my tone.