Lifting my hand, I give him a small wave as he walks toward me, a cup of coffee in his hand. “I don’t think I will stay outside as long as I did the other day. That burn was fairly painful,” I shrug.
He chuckles, sitting down next to me. “I have to talk to you, Raisa.”
Panic fills my body from his words. I try to keep myself calm, but it doesn’t work. I know that my eyes are wide and wild, that my legs and arms tremble just as much as my lips. I can feel the dread, I can practically taste it, it’s so thick hanging between us.
“There was an accident,” he mutters
My breath escapes my body, it completely leaves me, and I can do nothing but look up at this man. Not a single thought goes through my mind. Nothing. It’s as if I’m completely frozen as I wait for what I know will be crippling news.
“Sergei is fine, it’s Tatyana, she isn’t okay. She was in a bad auto accident. She had to have some kind of brain surgery, and she broke her arm. I’m not sure of the details, Sergei didn’t say much, he was busy.”
Slowly, Nikolai’s words sink in. My breathing resumes, and then, my brain begins to start working again as well. Nikolai waits, he watches me and studies me, attempting to read me, to gauge my reaction.
Frowning, I look up at him. “When did this all happen?”
“A few days ago, well, a week ago. She was in the hospital for about a week, she’s been released and now they’re planning the wedding. He says that he will be home shortly after the nuptials. He wanted me to let you know…” His words trail off when I stand.
Walking over to the balcony, I wrap my fingers around the metal railing. It’s thick, but not too thick. Warm. But not too warm. However, it’s high, extremely high and for a brief moment, I wonder what it would feel like to jump. What would the wind feel like as I fall against it? Nobody would miss me when my body hit the pavement, I would be a mess to clean up, but I would not be missed.
“Raisa,” Nikolai’s soft voice calls.
His fingers wrap around my bare shoulder and I shake him off, refusing to turn around. If I look at the pity in his eyes, which I am certain is directed toward me, I’ll cry. That’s the last thing I want to do, cry in front of him—in front of anyone. It’s not like when I cry during a session, this is personal, not sexual.
Clearing my throat, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “He called to tell you all of this,” I state. I don’t need him to respond. Gulping, I try to get rid of the knot that’s formed. “He hasn’t contacted me in well over ten days, did he tell you to relay this message or did you do it on your own?”
There is a moment of quiet. Too quiet. My answer is clear. Sergei did not think enough of me to call me himself or to even send his man over to let me know. He hasn’t thought of me at all. The special moments I thought we shared, the love I felt for him. It all meant nothing to him.
I am nothing to him.
I am his slave.
His vessel for release and pain.
Nothing else.
“He was consumed with grief and worry, Raisa,” Nikolai mumbles from behind me.
I shake my head. I don’t believe him, but it’s nice that he’s attempting to give Sergei excuses, to make me feel better. Turning my head slightly, I give him a fake smile. “I’m sure he was, Nikolai,” I whisper.
Thankfully after a few moments of silence, Nikolai leaves me alone on the balcony. Inhaling a deep breath, I exhale and stare at the horizon. What was once a bright warm day seems cool and dreary now. My mood has shifted with just a couple of sentences, a few words really.
Turning away from the balcony, I make my way inside. I ignore Panya and Nikolai who are huddled in the kitchen talking low and serious. I know it’s about me, about Sergei but I don’t care. I need to be alone right now. I need to try and breathe.
Making my way into my bedroom, I close the door behind me locking the deadbolt. Closing the curtains, I strip myself completely bare and slip between the sheets. The pillow is cool against my cheek and I let out a sigh as I close my eyes.
Maybe tomorrow I will feel better, maybe I won’t be so sensitive to the fact that Sergei doesn’t find me the least bit important to him. Maybe I won’t mind tomorrow that he’s the most important person to me.
Of course he’s the most important person in my life, aside from Panya and Nikolai he is the only person I know. He has an entire life outside of this bedroom, this apartment. My entire life is inside of it. My entire life is him.
Letting out a sigh. I decide to sleep. I go to that place deep inside of my head, that place where I usually find to disappear when I don’t want to do something, usually when Master Zakhar was being nasty. I take myself there for the first time since I was removed from his basement. Pressing my lips together, I find my place, and I breathe.
SERGEI
My phone rings again. Nikolai has been trying to get ahold of me, but I can’t bring myself to answer his call. I know it’s about Raisa. I’ve been a terrible master to her since I’ve been gone. The truth is, seeing Tatyana, going over my story with her, it’s brought up an immense amount of emotions and I’m not used to this.
I’m not used to feeling anything.
Raisa threw a wrench in that, then the news of Tatyana’s return added more. Not to mention the fact that she was almost taken from me again. Goddammit. Lifting the glass to my mouth, I swallow the vodka. I don’t know when I’ll have the balls to call Raisa. Maybe I won’t. It isn’t looking fucking promising and I hate myself for it right now. She’s probably having a difficult time.
My phone rings again and I pick it up. The alcohol now flowing along with my irritation. “What?” I shout. My normal cool and collected tone is completely lost. I’m buzzed and pissed, at myself.
“So you’re going to treat her as if she’s something to you, then leave her and ignore her? I’m glad I know where you stand,” Nikolai’s angry voice growls over the line.
I press my lips together, refusing to give in to his bait. “It is not your concern,” I announce.
He chuckles, and I can almost see the smartass smile on his face. “Zakhar is still breathing. Your man, Vladimir can’t locate him. His grandfather claims he can’t locate him. My wife is still at the safehouse and not in my bed. I’m here guarding your… I don’t even know what she is. And you could give a fuck what happens to her. So why don’t you just fucking give her back?”
My spine straightens at his accusation. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know how I feel. He doesn’t know that Raisa has busted through the hardest most impenetrable parts of my heart. He doesn’t know a goddamn thing, then again, neither does she. Nobody does, because I’m not about to talk about my fucking feelings, not now, not ever.
“Because she’s mine,” I shrug.
He growls, but I ignore him. I ignore everything except the way my chest tightens at the thought of Raisa going back to Zakhar. Lifting my hand, I rub the center of my chest, trying to rid myself of the ache but it doesn’t disappear. It only grows stronger.
“I do not have to justify myself or my actions to you, especially in my personal matters.”
Nikolai snorts. “It stopped being personal, Sergei when you hired Vladimir to end Zakhar. When you contacted his grandfather, when you involved the Bratva, it stopped being fucking personal. It’s been almost two weeks, and when are you coming back? When do I get my wife back? When will you fix this, being that you fucking broke her?” he demands.
My chest stops aching, but only long enough for my breath to cease. I lift my hand running my fingers through my hair as I think about his words. “She is not broken,” I state.
“You are an old fool, Sergei. Did you think after only a few weeks of you giving her your attention, your dominance, that she would be magically cured and be some strong independent woman?”
Closing my eyes, my head falls back. I open them and look at the ceiling. I’m fucking up, hugely. There’s nothing that I can do about it from here, and I can’t leave until
Tati’s wedding. “Just keep an eye on her, and keep her safe. I will deal with Vladimir and Zakhar when I get back, probably another week.”
Ending the call, I don’t wait for Nikolai to say anything else. He’ll be pissed that I hung up on him, but I don’t care. My mind wanders to Raisa. His words concern me. She must not be doing as well as I thought she would.
Honestly, it sounds terrible, but I thought no contact was better. It’s been a busy trip and full of predominantly business, she will have to understand that and be able to cope with it. Why not get her used to her new life now, rather than later. At least, that was my thought process at the time. Now? I’m wondering if I made a colossal mistake.
Pouring myself another vodka, I make my way into the bedroom. Tugging the bedding back, I unlock my phone with my thumbprint, then scroll through my photos. I have some pictures of Tatyana, Kiska, and even a few of Kirill. They cause my lips to tip in a small smile.
When I see the video of Raisa on the saddle, I pause. A full smile appears on my mouth. I press play. Watching her, my cock grows hard. She rides that fucking thing like she was born to do it, born to give me a thrilling show.
Wrapping my hand around my dick, I slowly stroke myself to the images in front of me. Squeezing the head tight, I fist my cock, groaning when she begins to buck wildly on the device. It doesn’t take me long to achieve my climax and when I do, come spurts all over my stomach in long ribbons.
Cursing, I drop the phone. Standing from the bed, I stumble into the bathroom and clean myself off with a towel, throwing it on the floor before I stumble back toward the bed. My phone is there, mocking me. The video of my Raisa was not enough. A picture of her wouldn’t be enough either. I need to see her, to hear her voice, to fucking touch her.
There is no doubt that she is special.
No doubt in my mind at all.
I just have to figure out how I’m going to handle that. It’s true that I adored Tatyana’s mother. However, I didn’t feel a fraction for her that I do for Raisa. I’ve adored all my slaves, all my whores, for one reason or another but I have not felt anything for them as a person. They could come and go, and I would be unbothered by it. Raisa on the other hand…
My heart skips a beat when I remember something that Niko mentioned. Picking up my phone, I scroll through my contacts for Vladimir.
“I assume Nikolai has contacted you?” he asks, his voice thick with worry.
I grunt. “He has. Why have you not updated me?” I demand.
Vladimir stays quiet for a beat too long but finally speaks. “I thought he would be easy to find. When he wasn’t I tried you but got no answer. I called Nikolai and he informed me that you were detained in the states. I’ve been keeping him updated with what I’ve found, which is a big fat fucking nothing,” he grinds out.
Lifting my hand, I scrub it down my face. Fucking hell. I have completely fucked up, in more ways than just the one. “Try to smoke him out of wherever he is. Send someone in to infiltrate his home. He couldn’t have midnight-moved his slaves. They’re still there and someone has to be caring for them. You find out who that is, then you’ll find him,” I instruct.
I’ve been completely off lately, in life and in work. That isn’t good when you’re Sergei Orlov. It’s time I get my fucking shit together, and fast.
Raisa’s life, my life, my family—we’re all on the line here.
I remind myself that once this wedding is finished, then I can get home and pull the reins in and straighten myself, my men, and Raisa all out once again.
Just a few more days.
That’s all I need.
I’ll get everything under control again in just a few more fucking days.
CHAPTER TWENTY
RAISA
I’ve spent the last two days wallowing. It’s pathetic really. I have no reason to do so. I’ve asked to be left alone by both Panya and Nikolai. Thankfully they’ve been more than understanding, but it needs to be finished. I need to be done with my pity party.
Making my way into the bathroom, I shower off the stench of two days in bed doing nothing but sleeping. Once my body is clean, I brush my teeth and comb out my damp hair. Next, I go about stripping the bedding and putting new sheets on the bed.
Opening the bedroom door, I inhale a deep breath, suddenly nervous about stepping out. I’m not anxious for any reason other than the way I ignored the only two people I have in my life right now, the only two people who give half a shit about me. I was a bad friend, and I need to apologize.
Slowly, I make my way into the living room. I freeze when I see Panya and Nikolai. They are sitting in dining room chairs in the middle of the room. Nikolai’s eyes meet mine and they widen. He lifts his chin toward the hall. I don’t understand him. Frowning, I take a step back. My natural instinct is to run. I don’t know where I’ll go, or who I’ll find for help, but there is something very wrong with this picture.
My back hits something hard and a hand wraps around my waist. “Now don’t run off, slave. The fun has just begun,” a voice hisses against my ear.
My eyes close slowly, then reopen and connect with Nikolai. He looks sad, really sad as his eyes lose contact with my own and shift to his lap. “Your friends can’t save you now,” Zakhar growls against my ear.
He pushes me forward, forcing me to walk into the center of the living room. I stumble over my own feet with each step I take. Zakhar’s arm releases me and I feel his fingers twist in my hair. He pushes me down to my knees by my hair. I don’t make a noise, even when my scalp burns. I do as he wants.
“Sergei thought he could take my slave. He thought that he could keep her and I would never find out?” Zakhar asks, making a tsking noise. He pulls on my hair harder, but I don’t move. I keep my eyes pointed at the floor in front of me, and I wait for further instruction.
“You thought you could keep and abuse women and nobody would know? That nobody would care?” Panya asks, her voice ragged and angry sounding.
The room is quiet, too quiet for far too long when Zakhar finally speaks. “What I do with my property is of no concern to you, your boss, or anyone else. Raisa is mine, too. It seems that Sergei has forgotten that little fact,” he growls.
I have no doubt that he plans on reminding Sergei of the fact that I’m not his. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I don’t allow them to fall, I can’t. Showing Zakhar weakness would be a far greater crime than anything else I’ve ever done. I’ve been his for ten years, I know what he likes and what he doesn’t. Showing weakness is something he doesn’t care for.
“What should I do with these two, slave?” he asks tugging my head back by my hair.
Looking up at him, I don’t answer, he doesn’t like me to speak. His questions are always rhetorical. We stay in silence, and I assume it’s because Zakhar doesn’t really know what to do with them. If he kills them, then he’ll have Sergei and all of the force of the Bratva after him. Taking me doesn’t pose that same threat.
I am nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
“I think we’ll leave them here, just like this. Their boss will be back soon enough, I guess,” he shrugs. His lips turn up into a sinister smile before he reaches down and grasps ahold of my tank top. “Evgen, take his phone, turn the video on. Let’s leave Sergei a little something fun to come home to,” Zakhar chuckles.
His hand is still holding onto my top as Evgen, his ever faithful guard, searches for Nikolai’s phone and pulls it out of his pants pocket. He demands Nikolai give him the password to open it and holds it in his meaty fist.
Zakhar doesn’t waste a second, he rips the tank top from my body, leaving my torso bare. I hear Panya whimper in the background, but I ignore her, I have to. Quickly, I shift my gaze to the ground, but Zakhar grabs hold of my cheeks and forces me to look toward Evgen.
“I want you to look into the phone’s camera the entire time, slave. Look away and I’ll beat you for him, too,” he growls.
My eyes turn toward the camera
and I stare at it, my mind slowly drifting toward my safe place, the only place I know where I can just blank out completely. Much like the other night, I find it easily, unlike the other night I’m unable to go to sleep.
I must perform. I must please. I must be his toy.
At least with Zakhar, I know what my place is. I know what is expected of me, and I know my future. I will be used by him until I’m of no use and he kills me. That is my place, that is my future, that is all I can hope for. To live, to be used, to die—nothing more.
SERGEI
My Tatiana wraps her arm around my elbow. She was almost taken from me, she almost died and here she is walking down the aisle to the man she loves. A man that I chose for her, one who is not worthy of her but I will hand her over anyway. Her injuries are slowly healing, but she’s absolutely stunning today, her lacy cast on her arm and half of her head shaved being the only indication of her recent hospital stay.
The wedding was beautiful, the bride and Kiska the best parts of the entire affair. I watch from the corner, my favorite vodka in hand as the guests dance, eat, socialize and drink.
“You heading home to your woman soon?” a voice rumbles from next to me.
I don’t have to look over at the man to know who it is. I raised Radimir like my own son. He’s the closest thing I have to a son. Taking him off of the streets as a young teen was the most heroic thing I’ve ever done in my life. I didn’t do it for heroics though, I did it because I saw myself in his abused eyes.
Tipping my head back, I empty my tumbler before I speak. “Not my woman,” I lie.
Radimir knows me well enough to catch me in a non-truth, a downright fucking lie. Raisa is my woman. I’ve come to the realization, and I am at peace with the knowledge that she is mine—not only in body but in mind and soul as well. I have fallen for the young woman.
Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 11) Page 14
