by Cole, Jagger
“It would be best, little princess,” Viktor growls quietly. He lifts his jacket again, flashing me the cold steel of his gun. “If this happened quietly.”
I turn to my father again. “Dad…”
“It’s just a month!” He smiles nervously. “Just a month, honey.”
In a daze, I turn back to the hulking, gorgeous Russian. His eyes burn into mine, and his jaw clenches as he extends a hand. “Come, Fiona,” he growls quietly. Again, my name sounds so intimate coming from his lips. “It’s time to go.”
The jet-black Bentley town-car rides silently through the city. My heart is still thudding in my ears though. And my mind is still in shock, trying to process what’s happening.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was at my own lame graduation party. I was sipping champagne, talking to my friend, and rolling my eyes at some snobby douchebag trying to hit on me. Now, I’m sitting in the back of a limousine with the most notoriously dangerous criminal in Chicago. And I’m going to be his captive for the next month.
How is this even real? But all I can do is just look out the window at the passing lights of the city. Slowly, the city fades into suburbs, and then countryside.
“You’ve just graduated law school, yes?”
I say nothing.
“And yet, you’ve never been out of your gilded cage, have you, little bird?”
I suck on my bottom lip. I turn to glare at him. “Excuse me?”
“Your father has kept you locked away in that golden tower of his your entire life, hasn’t he?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “He just wants to protect me.”
Viktor barks a laugh. “Does he?” He smiles. “Protect you from what, little bird?”
“From monsters like you,” I snap.
Viktor’s smile widens. “He does, does he?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
Viktor sighs. He speaks coolly and shrugs. “And yet, here we are.”
“Because you threatened him!”
“I hardly saw much of a fight,” Viktor grunts.
“What should he have done, hmm?” I hiss. “Get shot trying to stop you?”
“No,” I snarl. “What he should have done was paid me what he owed me, when he was supposed to.”
I purse my lips, glaring at the man across the seat from me. “What’s your business with my father?”
He smirks. “You don’t want to know those things, little bird.”
I tremble. “My father might not be perfect—”
Viktor laughs coldly, and I bristle.
“He might not be perfect, but he’s one of the good guys.”
“Oh, is he?” The Russian says with amusement. “Enlighten me how that is, given your current situation.”
I glare at him. “He’s trying to protect this city from people like you, that’s how.”
“By sending his daughter to live with a man like me? The very type of ‘bad guy’ you claim he’s trying to rid this city of?”
I chew on my lip, simmering. “He’s not a bad man. Not like you.”
“You don’t know me, Fiona,” Viktor growls quietly.
“I think I know perfectly well who—”
“If you did,” he snaps. “You’d be ten times as scared as you are right now.”
I swallow, biting my lip. “I’m not scared of you,” I whisper.
He smiles and turns to look out the window. “Then you need to start paying attention.”
My lips purse. “I’m paying attention just fine—”
“We’re here.”
The car stops abruptly as he cuts me off. Someone opens my door from the outside. I look up to see one of the burly bodyguard types from back in my father’s office. Past him, I look up at a huge, elegant mansion, half covered in ivy and glowing with lights.
The other passenger door behind me opens and shuts. I glance back to see that Viktor is gone. But then suddenly, he’s in front of me, taking the bodyguard’s place. He looks down into my eyes, his crystal blue ones glimmering. He puts his hand out, and I tremble.
“Come, little bird,” he growls. “Come see your new cage.”
I bristle. I ignore his hand as I slide from the car. Viktor smiles to himself and turns. “This way.” His hand goes to the small of my back. I wish I could say I bristle or shake him off. But instead, I just simmer, like his warm touch is something I’ve been waiting for.
Flanked by his men, the big Russian leads me wordlessly to the front door. A man with a machine gun bows quickly at Viktor, ignoring me entirely as he opens the door. We step inside, only to be greeted by three other men with guns. Viktor grunts something at them in Russian, his voice dark and velvety. They all nod and filter away, leaving me alone with him.
“You can’t keep me here,” I whisper.
Viktor smiles thinly. “I can do whatever I like, actually.”
“This is kidnapping.”
“This is business,” he growls. “The kind your father never should have gotten involved in.”
“And if I scream for help?”
“I’d rather you not.”
“But if I do?”
Viktor’s eyes pierce into me. His perfect lips curl with amusement, which is both infuriating and horribly attractive. “Does it look like I’m worried about who may hear you?”
My mouth purses. I hear the sound of heels suddenly. I turn, and frown as the tall, beautiful brunette woman in an exquisitely tailored skirt-suit and thin-rimmed glasses steps into the room. She glares at me, but she doesn’t look surprised by my presence either. Like she’s been expecting me.
“Nina, this is Fiona.”
“Hello,” the tall, willowy woman says thinly.
“Fiona, this is Nina, my personal assistant. As I’m sure Lev told you when he called earlier, Fiona will be staying here for some time.”
“Of course, Viktor,” Nina says with a glowing, crystal white smile. But her look sours when she glances back at me. “Follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“Um, I don’t have any…” I frown and turn back to Viktor. “What am I supposed to do about clothes? Toiletries?” I scowl. “I don’t even have my phone or wallet on me!”
“Clothes and toiletries have been sourced for you already, Ms. Murray,” Nina says with irritation.
“What? How?”
She purses her lips. “Because it’s my job, and I’m good at my job.”
“We left Chicago like thirty minutes—”
“I’m very good at my job,” she mutters testily. “Now if there’s nothing else, please follow me.”
“My phone? My wallet?”
“You don’t need either here,” Viktor growls.
“Yes, I do.”
His lips thin as an answer.
“This way,” Nina mutters. I turn to follow her. At the foot of one of the huge, curved staircases that sweep up the wall in the foyer, I turn back to glance at Viktor. He’s still looking right at me, though. I tremble before I turn and quickly follow Nina up the stairs.
4
Viktor
My hands are clenching, balling to fists as I watch her slink up the stairs. Okay, she’s just walking, but watching her is… enticing.
It’s dangerous, too. This is not a game I play, and women are not indulgences I allow myself. Not ever. I’ve spent the whole drive back to my home coming up with excuses for myself—why I’m doing what I’m doing; why I’ve made this insane decision.
But watching Fiona climb the curved staircase and then slink out of view puts it all into stark perspective. I’m not doing this for business, or for revenge on Thomas. I’m not playing a “long game” or four-dimensional chess of any kind. I’m doing this, because I desire her. I desire her more than I’ve ever desired any woman, ever. It’s a craving—an instant madness in my head. And it’s already thrown me into making at least one misstep.
I’ve shown weakness. Thomas might not know it or see it yet. But he might. If and when he dwells long enough on what transpired in his
office today, he’ll spot it. And if my enemies spot weakness—even pathetic, toothless enemies like Thomas Murray—it could very well be my undoing.
I storm down the halls of my house to my office. The door slams behind me, and I head for the bar cart by the fireplace. I pour a healthy double splash of the Balvenie Fifty Year scotch I keep there. I drink and sink deep into the designer leather chair by the fireplace.
Forty-eight-thousand-dollar a bottle whiskey, in a fifteen-thousand-dollar vintage chair, in my fifty-million-dollar mansion that I was chauffeured to in a two-million-dollar Bentley. I allow myself a smug, satisfied smirk.
The difference between now and my youth is stark, to stay the least. But my rise didn’t come cheap. It didn’t come without sacrifice, and blood. And it sure as fuck did not come by making compromises and showing weakness to little pawns like Thomas Murray. I snarl as I knock back another sip of the whiskey.
One glimpse of his gorgeous daughter, and I’ve gone soft. I grit my teeth and glance down at the bulge that’s been throbbing beneath my fly for the last two hours. Or not so soft, it would seem. And now, with no actual plan beyond wanting her, I’ve brought her back here, to my sanctuary. Now, she’s upstairs, in my home, sleeping under my roof. And I’m not entirely sure how long I can keep myself from her.
There’s a knock at my office door, which opens immediately after. I don’t have to turn to now it’s Lev. Only he would be bold enough to enter without a command, even knocking first. But it’s more than boldness with Lev. It’s almost a family-like familiarity.
He’s the younger brother I never had. We met when I was young and just starting to seek my fortunes in St. Petersburg. I was sixteen, freshly expelled from my last group home, and living on the streets. I spent my days ripping off tourists and drunk businessmen, and my nights fighting off perverts and thugs. I didn’t have two rubles to rub together, and I hadn’t eaten in four days when I found him getting the shit kicked out of him.
Lev was three years younger than me, and yet just as big. But that wasn’t helping much when he’d been caught stealing from a local gang leader. The fucker and three of his buddies—all adults—were laughing as they beat a kid within an inch of his life. I don’t know what made me jump in, or how I even did with how starving I was. But I did.
I took down one with a lead pipe. The other three turned on me instantly, but it gave Lev the only break he needed. I took a knife to the shoulder that day—a wound which still hurts at times even now, nineteen years later. Lev almost lost an eye. But that gang leader and all three of his friends died in that alleyway.
After that, we were truly brothers.
“Want a drink?”
“I’m good.”
I glance at Lev. “It’s the Balvenie fifty. You’re sure?”
“Da.”
I raise a brow but shrug. “Suit yourself.”
“Do you know what you’re doing, Viktor?”
I frown as Lev steps around and sinks into the chair across from me. “Having a drink,” I grunt. “In peace, was the plan.”
“You know what I’m talking about. With her. With everything that happened in that office today.”
My eyes narrow. Younger brother he may be, but our roles are clear. In this empire, I am king. Lev is my right-hand man, but there’s still just one king. And while I normally welcome his questions and his counsel, this is different.
“Something you’d like to say, brother?”
“Yes,” Lev grunts without hesitation. “I’m questioning what your move is here, with her. And no, Viktor,” he mutters as I open my mouth. “Do not tell me she’s collateral. You’ve never once done anything like that. If collateral was to be taken today, we both know it would have been Thomas’s big toe, not a family member.”
“The plans changed,” I growl dangerously. “And I’ve made my decision.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Lev hisses right back. “And I won’t ever question your decisions.”
“Then why the fuck are we having this conver—”
“Because I’m questioning the motive behind that decision, Viktor.”
I grit my teeth. Slowly, I take a sip of my drink, my eyes still on him.
“I saw the way you looked at her, my friend.”
“And how did I look at her, Lev?” I snap.
He smirks. “Like I’ve never seen you look at a woman before.”
“She’s attractive.”
“Nina is attractive. Elizaveta, the bartender at the Cosmonaut Lounge is attractive. Have you looked at your bank account lately? You could buy the affection of almost any attractive woman in the world, Viktor. Fly the Moscow Ballet in for a pool party. Sponsor the Victoria’s Secret fucking fashion show in your own bedroom if you like. But this?”
“What,” I growl with a warning.
Lev looks at me impassively. “This isn’t you, and it’s reckless.”
I clench my jaw and turn away. I push a button on the table next to my chair, and the fireplace in front of us roars to life. Lev says nothing, and we sit in silence for a few minutes until he sighs.
“You know what? I will have that drink now.”
“Too bad. Offer rescinded.”
He smirks at me. “Don’t throw a tantrum because you know I’m right.”
I glare at him. “Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“Fine, have a drink. And fine, I’m fixing this situation with Thomas’s daughter.”
One of his eyebrows raises. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
I stand and knock back the rest of my drink. “She’s gone, tonight.”
“As it happens, I’ve just dug into her a bit more.”
I glare at him. “And?”
“She’s very smart.”
“She’s twenty-two and just graduated law school, Lev,” I grunt. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I didn’t just say she’s smart, Viktor. I said she’s very smart. She was homeschooled, but all of the standardized tests she took over the years she aced. Perfect score on her SATs. Perfect 4.2 GPA at Princeton, despite taking her classes remotely. She was the absolute top of her class for the two years she was there.”
I frown. “College is four years.”
“She did it in two. All credits, even electives. All straight A’s, with extra credit. Perfect score on her LSATs, early acceptance at age twenty to Columbia Law. Graduated with perfect marks and a glowing commendation from the fucking Dean.”
My brow arches. “Interesting.”
“Very.”
“And your point?”
“My point is, since even with this little stunt of yours, of stomping up there to throw her out, I know she’s not actually going anywhere.”
I glare at him. He smirks back at me.
“I know you too well, brother. So, let’s assume she’s staying.”
“I don’t make a business of assuming things, Lev.”
“Humor me, then. If she’s staying…” he shrugs. “Perhaps she can be of far more use than a forbidden temptation for you.”
“Need a tutor, Lev?”
“No, but you need a lawyer schooled in land trusts and zoning laws, for your project.”
My mouth thins. He actually makes a very interesting point.
“At least consider it, Viktor.”
“Perhaps.” I drag my fingers over my jawline and look back at him. “You may be right. She may be useful there.”
“You should listen to me more often—”
“But you’re wrong about one thing.”
He reaches over and pours a splash of the whiskey into a new glass. “What’s that?”
“This is my house. On the outskirts of the city that I own. Just like I own a debt that is yet to be repaid.” I smile thinly. “So believe me when I say that there is nothing ‘forbidden’ about her. Not where I’m concerned.”
I ignore Lev’s arched brow as I turn and wordlessly storm from my office. I head right for Fiona’s quart
ers. But none of the steps I take towards her room lead me any closer to deciding if I’m going to throw her out or throw her into my bed.
5
Fiona
“This is you,” Nina mutters when we stop in front of a set of double doors. She swings them open, and I gasp.
Wow.
The room—or I should say rooms—are stunning. Wainscoted walls, gorgeous hanging light fixtures, gleaming hardwood floors, and flowers everywhere. I follow her inside, gaping at the trappings. I come from a lot of money, and my father spared no expense with his townhouse. But this is on another level entirely. This isn’t just wealth; this is a lot of wealth.
Nina leads me through another set of double doors, into a lavish, gorgeous bedroom.
“Bedroom,” she says dryly. For whatever reason, she’s clearly got a chip on her shoulder about me. She walks across the room and opens two more double doors. “And clothes.”
I stare at the room beyond that’s almost the same size as the huge bedroom. Only this one is lined with rows and rows of hanging clothes, dressers, and shoes.
“Anything else you need?” Nina says with a tone that screams “say no.”
“No, I’m fine,” I say quietly.
“Oh, here.” She suddenly hands me my phone. My brows arch as I take it from her.
“Can I use it?”
“Yes, but it’s being wired through the house’s security team.”
I frown. “Does that mean someone is listening if I make a call?”
She gives me the first real smile I’ve seen from her yet. “It does. And reading when you send a text. This is for Mr. Komarov’s protection.”
“I see.”
“It would be best that if you must call or communicate with anyone, you…” she smiles. “Lie.”
“For a month?” I say dryly.
Nina just smiles. “If there’s nothing further, goodnight.”
She turns and walks out, leaving me alone with my racing heart and swirling thoughts. I turn slowly, drinking in the room. I walk over to the bed and run my fingers across the luxuriously silken duvet. Through a doorway, I find an enormous, elegant bathroom—all white towels, silver, and crystal. It’s like I’m being kept in a princess’s apartment or something.
