Envy: An Eagle Elite Novella

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Sign here,” Andrei said gruffly.

  Angelo signed, grinning the entire time.

  I slumped into myself, already covering up what I was afraid would be exposed too soon.

  “Ax,” Andrei nodded to the man with the black folder. “Take two guards with you.” He smiled at Angelo. “This concludes our business. Ax will take you to the vault where you will get paid.”

  And then they were gone.

  Andrei sat down next to me. He didn’t so much as look at me as he asked. “Are you injured?”

  My throat was so dry it was hard to speak. “Ankle, I fell.”

  “Did he injure you?” Still he wouldn’t look at me. “I could shoot him for selling damaged goods and not being upfront about it.”

  “Only my pride,” I managed to joke, earning his gaze for the first time. He was pretty. He was also younger than I’d originally suspected. In his early twenties maybe. With light hair and perfect skin. Like a fallen angel who hadn’t gotten the memo that he could return to heaven.

  “I see why he likes you.” He stood and held out his hand. “Should I taste you first?” I recoiled. He leaned down and whispered. “Play along, he still has men here.”

  I grabbed his hand.

  He squeezed it tight and led me through a crowd. My ankle throbbed as I leaned against him. His free hand caressed my ass and squeezed. I closed my eyes. This was just the beginning, wasn’t it? Angelo was making his way out of a separate room when Andrei spun me around and slammed me against the nearest wall. His mouth was hot and controlled, he kept his eyes open, locked on me while his lips moved effortlessly across mine. Like the man had studied how to make a kiss look passionate when to the person he was kissing—it felt emotionless.

  His eyes darkened as he heaved me into his arms and parted his lips. I didn’t kiss him back at first, and then a sharp pinch in my ass had me yelping into his mouth as he flicked his tongue with mine. He tasted like spicy whiskey and spearmint.

  And then he abruptly stopped, pulled away, grabbed my hand, and we kept walking. “Necessary evil.”

  I almost stumbled. “Kissing me was a necessary evil?”

  He kept his eyes straight ahead. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. Kissing is merely an exchange of currency.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Someone like you wouldn’t.” We stopped in front of a solid metal door, and he slid a black and red card through a slot. It opened with a weird sucking noise. The room was freezing. My teeth started chattering immediately.

  “I don’t understand,” I said between cold breaths.

  “Everyone has a currency. Most women use their bodies to buy what they want…most men pay it. I deal with those people. I am not one of them. And neither are you.” His voice lowered as a light flickered in the middle of the room. There was a stage fixed with ropes coming from the ceiling along with different sorts of shackles and handcuffs.

  I stopped walking.

  “Take off your shoes,” he instructed.

  I fumbled with my shoes and finally got them off, including the one trying to trap my swollen ankle.

  He grabbed a black silk robe and handed it to me. “Take off your clothes.”

  “No.”

  He sighed in impatience. “In this, you must trust me.”

  I stared him down. He just tilted his head in that predatory animalistic way that made a person wonder if his soul was still in his body or just barely tethered there by mere force. His eyes were empty.

  But he was all I had.

  And I knew that he and the Italians had a deal.

  I was out of choices, wasn’t I? This was the only path to take.

  “F-fine.” I took off my clothes while he watched. He didn’t seem the least bit affected by my nakedness, as if he’d seen so much of it, it no longer stirred anything in him.

  He pointed up at the hazy ceiling. “Green light means you’ve been purchased. Red light means you’ll be tortured. I would start praying for that green light…even Italians are bloodthirsty when it comes to torture—and I have no way of knowing if the ones who have a claim on you mean to let you live—or want to watch you suffer.”

  “Please!” I grabbed him by the arm. He stared down at my fingers like he wasn’t used to human contact and then jerked away from me. I grasped at him again. “Please, don’t leave me here.”

  His eyes softened. “If it makes you feel better, I’m seventy percent sure you’ll see a green light, and if you see red, I’ll shoot you before the pain becomes unbearable. Agreed?”

  Tears streamed down my face. He shoved a handkerchief into my hands as his footsteps echoed across the cement floor.

  Why cement?

  And why out of all the things I would be thinking about would that be something that entered my head? The club was beautiful, no expense was spared, and cement? I stared after him as the door locked shut.

  The lights flickered on all around me.

  Drains were placed every few feet within the cement.

  And lining the wall were chains like you’d see in a dungeon. Blood stained a few of them, and in one of them was a woman, eyes open, mouth slack. I opened my mouth to scream when the panel she was connected to was sucked back into the wall. A red curtain replaced the area like nothing had ever happened.

  I’d wrongly assumed it was some sort of naughty playground.

  No, that’s not what this was.

  This was…the pit of hell.

  The main stage looked like something out of a horror movie. What was worse? There seemed to be places to sit in the back, lavish couches like they had in the VIP section with buckets of champagne in the middle of each of the tables.

  What sort of man was Andrei? To let this happen? To bank on this?

  If kissing and sex wasn’t his currency, did that mean torture was?

  I wrapped my arms around my middle and slowly walked toward the stage and sat at the edge. My eyes locked on the lights above.

  “Please, Vic. Please find me.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Vic

  I didn’t remember driving to the club. My rage was fueled by three things. Find her. Keep her safe. Kill anyone in my way.

  I jumped out of my SUV, a Glock in each hand.

  “Vic,” Nixon called after me.

  I stopped in my tracks. Too pissed to turn around and face him.

  “This won’t end the way you want it to,” he said in a clear voice.

  “I took a punishment. Don’t let her be punished for my actions further, Nixon. I have a plan.”

  I could sense his hesitation.

  Sense the bosses as they looked at one another.

  Chase took a step forward. “We’ve trusted you for three years.”

  I finally turned to see all of them heavily armed, staring at Nixon. Waiting. Tex didn’t step in because it was family business—and I was owned by the Abandonatos.

  “If you can find a way to fix this,” Nixon said in a low voice, “fix it. But nothing can trace back to us, back to her. Fuck this up and I kill you. No hesitation. No mistakes.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “We’ve got your back, Vic.” Nixon cocked his gun and shook his head. “Just had to fall for the nanny.”

  “Told ya, brown eyes.” Dante smirked.

  We walked in solidarity toward the black door. I knocked twice just as the door swung open. “Move.”

  The bodyguard widened his eyes as he stared down the barrel of the gun in my right hand.

  With a sigh he shook his head. “One gun per person.”

  “Tough shit, I have seven. Move.”

  “Vic—” The guy cursed in Russian. “I can’t, you know I can’t.”

  “You can,” I said with a smug grin. “You will.”

  He knew I wasn’t bluffing. He knew my madness; it was etched all over my face. I would kill him in cold blood even though I knew he had a family, even though I knew he had a kid on the way. I wouldn’t blink.
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  He knew.

  So I gave him three seconds.

  When I should have given him nothing.

  He wiped his hands down his face. “At least hit me so it looks like there was a struggle.”

  “No problem.” I knocked him out with my gun and stormed through the front door. The loud music was already giving me a headache as I ran down the first main hall and into the dance area. Andrei yet again was looking over his kingdom. He sighed when he saw me, and then grinned when the rest of the bosses filed in after me.

  The music kept going, but people obviously took notice that a shit ton of giant Italians had just walked into what was notoriously known as a Russian-run club. A Russian-run club that catered to all sorts of lifestyles and backgrounds—a club that loved torturing Italian girls and selling them on the streets.

  Andrei nodded to me.

  I made my way up the stairs, my guns at my sides as he took a seat at his usual couch and spread his arms across the back off the chair. “Are you here for the girl?”

  “What did you do?” I pointed both guns at his face.

  It was the first time I’d seen the guy full-on grin. “You’re welcome.”

  “What the fuck?” I roared.

  He just shrugged while the rest of the guys filed in next to me.

  Tex was the next to speak. “Did you decorate or were you able to find a vampire who was willing to do it for half price?”

  Andrei shot him a look of disgust. “Werewolf, actually.”

  “Where is she?” I said again, and this time my voice shook with so much anger I was having a hard time not shooting him just to shoot him.

  He sighed like he was bored, then stood. “Follow me.”

  We walked toward the direction of The Cage.

  No. He wouldn’t put her in there.

  He wouldn’t.

  My fingers itched to pull both triggers.

  “Remember…” Andrei sighed. “I’m your ally.”

  “I might question that if you put her on the block, you sick fuck!” I roared.

  He rolled his eyes. “Calm down. Plus, what did you want me to do? Just hand her over after a two million dollar transaction?”

  Nixon put his hand on Andrei’s chest. “Explain. Now.”

  “Angelo’s a little prick who wants access to his trust fund. Everything was tied into this marriage…but if she’s sold and he goes back and has proof of her death then…what’s a father to do but give his son all his money?”

  “What?” I shook my head.

  “I gave him two million dollars for the honor of torturing her.”

  I lunged but Tex and Phoenix held me back.

  “Now…” Andrei led us onto the balcony overlooking the main stage. She was shivering on the side, hugging her body while people around her started poking and prodding her like she was some sort of object they could purchase. “Here is your button. Just type in the number of the girl you want to pay for…and press the light for what sort of activity you’d like to embark on. Might I suggest the hanging tower of death? Best orgasm of some men’s lives.”

  I pointed the gun at his head. “Release her.”

  Andrei spread his arms wide. “I’m a business man, remember? This is where I’ve been placed. I can’t hand her over. But you can purchase her. The way everyone else has to purchase in this establishment. My suggestion would be to hurry, since several men have already asked her price and I can’t keep lying and saying twelve million especially when one of them actually contemplated it…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Two million. And no matter what choice you make with the light—no judgment, Vic—she’ll be pronounced dead, which means that either she goes under your protection, or hell’s.”

  The sleek flat device felt cold in my hand as he shoved it toward me and then left me staring down at her.

  “I could just kill them all,” I whispered.

  “Would it make you feel better if you did?” Nixon asked.

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “It would be unwise to create an even bigger mess when Andrei’s this deep in… Just…buy her and be done with it.”

  “Be done with it!” I shoved against his chest. “I love her!”

  “THEN BUY HER!” he roared back.

  It wasn’t that.

  I could buy her seven times over.

  It was that I was buying her.

  And then letting her go.

  And I didn’t want to let her go.

  I wanted to buy her and run away with her. I wanted to buy her and marry her. I wanted to buy her and let her go to school wherever she wanted, finish her degree. I wanted her freedom.

  With shaking hands I pressed the number dangling above her head where she sat….and then hit the red button.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Renee

  I shivered as the screen flashed with the number above my head…And then the light went red. I gaped at it like it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Not only had he not come in time, but I was going to be tortured to death.

  Though Andrei did promise he’d kill me.

  This wasn’t happening.

  How was it real?

  I stood on shaky feet as two men walked into the room, made a beeline toward me, then jerked me toward a door on the opposite side. They shoved me through it and closed the door behind them.

  The room was pitch-black except for a small dim chandelier that hung over a red satin bed. There were no windows.

  Just satin and velvet everywhere I looked, and several different drawers and closets that probably held weapons that would haunt me even in my death.

  Movement behind me caught my eye as I ran toward the bed and tried to hide on one side of it.

  Then footsteps.

  Someone was coming out of the shadows.

  I closed my eyes.

  It would be over soon. It would all be over.

  “I was watching you,” came the familiar voice. “And I realized once again that if all I was allowed in this life—was the honor of watching you, I would take it.”

  “Vic?” I asked, as hope filled my chest. “Please tell me this isn’t a trick.”

  “No trick.” He moved around the bed and leaned down. He had four different guns strapped to his chest, more probably on his back, and looked ready to start an all-out war.

  “But how?” I reached for him, then pulled away in shame.

  He tilted my chin toward him. “I’ll always find you, Renee. Always.”

  “I didn’t mean to run, I was just so upset, I’m still upset, I can’t trust anyone, I can’t—”

  He silenced me with a kiss then pulled away. “You can trust me. I would have told you everything had it not put your life in danger, and mine. We were already pushing too many lines. One more would have…” He sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”

  “I love you.” He kissed my forehead. “Never forget that, all right?”

  “But…”

  He stood and pulled out one of his guns.

  “No, Vic! No!”

  “Trust me,” he said softly. “Trust me to take care of you.”

  “You’re pointing a gun at me!” I snapped. “How can I trust that?”

  “You know me, Renee. You know the real me. Trust me in this…please. It’s the only way.”

  “Killing me is the only way?”

  “I never said I was going to kill you,” he said in a lethal voice.

  I frowned just as the first gunshot rang out. It hit the pillow next to my head. I screamed and covered myself with my hands. More shots followed until all I heard were gunshots.

  And then the door was opening behind him and what looked like a strung-out woman was thrown onto the bed.

  Andrei cracked his neck. “She’s the closest I could find…and she is of no use to us anymore.”

  She started laughing loudly and taking off her clothes. She looked near death as b
ullet holes decorated her thin legs along with cigarette burns. Her arms were slashed up like she’d been cutting herself in order to escape her hell, and she was so high she started shrieking about demons on her face.

  Vic shot her without taking his eyes off me.

  I watched him while he put bullets into her body.

  When all the blood was spilled, and mixed with down feathers and red satin from the bed, Vic snapped his fingers as Andrei handed him something black.

  “Trust me,” he said just before pulling it over my head and throwing me over his shoulder.

  “That was fun!” Andrei laughed smugly. “Come back soon!”

  I wanted to give him all the middle fingers, mixed with all the tears. I wanted to scream and rage and pound my fists into Vic’s back. That is until I felt the cold night air against my legs.

  And then a door was opening.

  Familiar voices sounded.

  “Any clean up?” Dante.

  “No,” Vic said harshly.

  “Damn.” Chase.

  “She’s probably in shock.” Tex.

  “Who wouldn’t be in shock?” Sergio.

  “Take her back to the house.” Nixon.

  “Looks like I have a new black folder on yet another family member… You see how the world works? We give and we give, and it gives right back. I’ll enjoy this one immensely, I think.” Phoenix.

  They kept talking like it wasn’t a big deal that some random woman was dead in that room, or that their friend Andrei was dealing with whatever horrors he was dealing in.

  Vic heaved me into the leather back seat tossed the keys to Phoenix. And scooted in next to me as the vehicle drove off.

  I shook in his arms.

  He never let me go.

  And when we finally stopped.

  And I was getting carried into the familiar smell of Nixon’s house—they pulled the black hood from my head, and I collapsed against Vic’s chest. Gut-wrenching sobs came from my lips as I clawed for him, scrambled for his embrace.

  He gave it. He held me tight.

  And I hated them.

  I hated all of them.

  I hated the life.

  And I hated the necessity of what had just happened.

  That someone had to die so I could live.