Captive Princess (Romance on the Go Book 0)

by Winter Sloane

  “I have no quarrel with you. They call you a beast, but unlike my men, all I see is emptiness. I can’t tell if violence excites you or this is just a job to you.” McDaniel shrugged. “To each his own, I guess.”

  “You still need me around?” he asked.

  Vadim had no answer for McDaniel, because McDaniel hit a sore spot without realizing it. An empty vessel, perfect for corruption. His father had said that to him once, deeming him the perfect canvas. Maybe Maksim Solonik trained him too well.

  “Nah. Clean-up can be done by Petrovich’s grunts. What are you doing to do with the bitch after you’re done with her?”

  “Eve Valentin will cease to exist. Tell Petrovich that. Any one searching for her body will find nothing.” A partial truth, but good enough for McDaniel it seemed, because the other man nodded, turning to his own conquest.

  Vadim left the Valentin house, sweeping past the dead guards at the entrance. The street emptied when their crew made their appearance, but Gustav had the nearest police districts under his pocket. No help from the local authorities would turn up. Perfect.

  He opened the passenger door of his truck. His gift certainly made matters a lot more difficult. Once he laid her down on the leather seats, Eve tried to kick at him again. When that didn’t work, she clawed at his face. He gripped her wrists, using his body to pin her down.

  “Behave,” he gritted the words out. They weren’t in the clear yet. One or two of McDaniel’s men probably still lingered in one of the corners of the street, keeping watch. Doubtless, they’d report any thing they saw to their boss. Eve spat out the piece of cloth in her mouth. He closed his hand over her lips, wincing at the feel of teeth on his fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” he said in advance, then found the pulse point in her neck and pressed down.

  Her blue eyes filled with terror, but he didn’t stop, not until she lay unconscious on the back seat. Eve didn’t know yet that there was nowhere in the world she was safe. Not for a fallen mafia princess. If Vadim hadn’t insisted she be the payment for the job, she’d be someone else’s new property to break and wreck apart.

  Vadim couldn’t have that, because five years ago, he’d made his decision. Eve Valentin would be his, in every sense of the word. Soon.

  ****

  Rough men with vicious looks in their eyes and hands that cut like knives held her down. No matter how hard Eve fought, they’d only beat her harder.

  “Scream for me, bitch,” said the black-eyed man unzipping his jeans.

  The fight went out of her for a second. What reason did Eve have to live? Her sister was dead, and so were her mother, her father, and the rest of the Valentin family. All she’d ever known, eradicated in a couple of hours. She’d never fit in with her perfect family, but they were her flesh and blood.

  Now, they were all gone.

  No reason to resist these men, these monsters who got their rocks off seeing her bleed, save one. Vengeance for the one man who Eve thought had been her friend, a killer whose hands had been stained with blood a long time ago, but had been kind enough to ask an awkward, shy, and chubby girl to dance at her sister’s wedding.

  Eve jolted awake, with soft and unfamiliar sheets tangled around her naked body. Only a nightmare, except when she looked down, she saw evidence of the truth. Bruises colored her sides, her thighs, but they appeared to be tended to. She pressed a finger over one, sniffing, surprised to smell some kind of ointment.

  Even the shallow cuts one killer had made with his knife across her stomach, had been taken care of. Eve fingered the gauze. No. What was she doing? She had no time for this, to wonder which good Samaritan had taken care of her.

  The last she remembered, she fought Vadim tooth and nail. Her mother had warned her, lectured her all those years ago after seeing her and Vadim dance at Clarissa’s wedding. Men like Vadim lied all the time, and trust didn’t apply to them.

  Contract killers didn’t understand the concept of loyalty, had no morals, and would agree to any job if the numbers were right. Payment. Eve recalled Vadim telling one of his comrades that. Vadim had shot one of the men about to rape her in the groin for forgetting that little detail. She swallowed, recalling how her body froze completely in place. She’d known what Vadim was, heard the stories of him, but seeing how easily he resorted to violence up and close and personal, was an entirely different matter.

  Eve needed a plan, but first, she needed to know where she was.

  She didn’t dare move, or make any noises but studied her surroundings. A plain looking bedroom, the furniture minimalist. The door remained open, revealing a hallway, a flight of stairs. She held her breath. Freedom or a trap?

  Wind ruffled her hair, and she found its source. The bedroom also led to an open balcony. Eve’s heart started on an erratic rhythm. Standing there, with his back turned to Eve, was her captor.

  Chapter Two

  Freedom lay a few steps from her. Eve could bolt out of the bed, fly down those stairs and out the door, but she’d still need clothes. With nothing on her, calling for help would be difficult. Then it hit her again.

  Who would she call? Everyone she’d known had been gunned down. Those had been the lucky ones. The survivors had it worse. She could still hear Clarissa screaming from two rooms down, Raul begging for mercy, but none of the invaders had shown any.

  Stephen, one of her uncles, had barged into her room when the attack started, telling her to hide under her bed and lock her room until the cops or their allies arrived. In the end, none of those actions saved her. Grief threatened to rise up in her, to reduce her to a shaking, weeping mess, but Eve also knew breaking down wasn’t the answer. She had to help herself, and to do that, she needed her wits about her.

  Her gaze shifted to Vadim. As he stood barefoot on the balcony dressed only in a pair of jeans, she noticed the sleek, tanned muscles of his back, the scrollwork of ink lining it. Eve spotted a skull wrapped with thorns and roses, a cross, chains, a pair of wings, and words she couldn’t read. She looked away, disgusted with herself for all those years wasted, pining and longing for a monster who wouldn’t hesitate to end her family for a price.

  Freedom or vengeance? Both choices whispered to her, but the gun made the decision for her. On the armchair by the bed, Vadim had carelessly left his shoulder holster. One revolver peeked out, a tempting tool of murder but perfect for the man who wielded it.

  Eve slipped out of bed, careful not to make a noise. Reaching the armchair, she glanced at Vadim again, still on the phone, one inked hand holding onto a cigarette stick. Those hands, which once held hers, were the same hands that helped end her family.

  Eve knew how to hold a gun, had taken lessons with Clarissa. Any woman of the Valentin family knew how to defend herself, or that had been the idea anyway.

  With trembling fingers, she picked it up, unfamiliar with the weight of it. The grip had been custom-made, inlaid with a silver cross. She remembered Vadim mentioning to her once about being raised a Catholic, despite coming from a family of killers. One conversation. A single dance. That was all they had, and yet she memorized every single word they’d exchanged, replayed those words in her head after her mother forbade her to see him again.

  Carefully cradling the gun, she approached him. Too easy. Some part of her warned this must be some trick. Two feet away from her, he turned, ending the call, letting the cigarette fall from his fingers, amusement in those green eyes.

  “Are you going to kill me, princess?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she whispered.

  Eve could have pulled the trigger sooner. This close, she might miss, but she could try again. He walked closer, and she hesitated, hand trembling even harder as he positioned his chest right at the gun. Metal kissed skin.

  “I don’t understand you. You murdered my family, kidnapped me to do God knows what, and now, you’re giving me a chance to kill you?” she demanded, wanting answers.

  Why would he want to claim her as payment? What had been so special
about her? “Gustav Petrovich had been planning this for a long time. If McDaniel and his men failed, he has a plan B and C. Gustav wouldn’t stop hunting every member of the Valentin family down.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “Just because Clarissa didn’t marry his son?”

  “Stop acting like a scared little girl. We both know how this world works. Your father wounded his pride. I warned you, all those years ago.”

  He didn’t flinch or move when she pressed the barrel harder. “Are you going to tell me you have nothing to do with what happened? I saw you from the second floor. You waltzed in the front door with the others.”

  Eve couldn’t forget the awful taste of betrayal, had refused to believe it until her uncle found her in her room and ordered her to hide and open the door for no one. In the end, a piece of wood couldn’t protect her. Three men broke the door down, dragged her out of bed and would have taken her virginity, if not for Vadim’s intervention.

  “I took the job, because it was the only way to get close to you. Your family had doomed itself the moment your father broke his promises to ally with the Petrovich family. Charles made an enemy of them that day.”

  “I don’t care,” she whispered. “They’re dead. All of them.”

  “But you live.” Vadim closed one big hand over the barrel to keep it from shaking. “It was the only way to save you.”

  She let out a hysterical laugh. “Save me? Are you that fucked-up in the head?”

  Vadim smiled, showing teeth, reminding Eve she wasn’t tangling with a normal man but a monster reared from birth to take lives. She played a dangerous game, but something told her Vadim hadn’t lied to her once.

  “You’d prefer I let those three fuckers rape you? That wouldn’t be the end you know. Gustav likes keeping souvenirs. If those three didn’t break you, Gustav and his men would.”

  Vadim’s words shook her, because Eve knew them to be true. “You’re no knight in shining armor,” she whispered. “But I appreciate you saving me nonetheless.”

  “Never pretended to be. Tell me, princess. Are you going to shoot me or not? Because once you put that gun down, you know what happens next.”

  “What?” she dared asked, well aware if Vadim wanted to kill her, he would have done it a lot sooner.

  “Let’s get one thing straight.”

  Eve sucked in a breath when he tightened his hold on the barrel. She almost thought he could bend the metal, an impossible human feat she knew, but he’d thrown her easily over his broad shoulder like a sack of floor. Eve wasn’t exactly a light weight ether.

  “I took you for myself, and I’m not about to let you go.”

  ****

  The truth of his words sank in. Vadim watched the different emotions cross her face—horror, fear, but also a hint of excitement. Eve had never struck him as a good liar, could never contain her feelings like her sister or mother. He knew, because Vadim had watched her for years.

  Vadim knew her daily routine, the people she met on a daily basis. He knew her, or thought he did anyway. It didn’t matter. He meant every word. He’d offer her a choice, because Vadim wouldn’t strip her choices away from her, but only for Eve to realize she had nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

  Save him.

  Eve wouldn’t want for anything else. She need only utter the names of her enemies and he’d strike them down, create an entire graveyard for her. First though, they needed to move past this little misunderstanding.

  “You hate me so much? Pull the trigger. It’s that easy,” he said, angling the barrel higher, right over his left pectoral. Buried under flesh, blood and bone, lay a heart that beat solely for her.

  “Tell me. Do you want to die so badly?” she retorted, blue eyes fiery, like hard gemstones.

  Vadim would give for anything to see her face turn soft, vulnerable, those long eyelashes fluttering, her lips parted, swollen from his kiss. He eyed her. Eve hadn’t bothered with clothes. The survivor in her hadn’t screamed, wept, or curled into a corner. She’d taken his gun and had the balls to point it at him.

  Doubt clouded her vision though. Her hands still shook. Vadim decided there and then he never wanted her to hold a weapon of murder. Once this ugly business had been dealt with, he’d make it his life’s mission to give her a new world devoid of guns, violence, and politics.

  Since she looked so undecided, Vadim took that opportunity to devour her.

  Even battered, she looked like a goddess, skin creamy as he remembered, and fuck him, those curves, the generous swell of her breasts and that tempting valley between her legs that hid moist folds—he yearned to put his mouth and hands everywhere. Find the secret places that made her moan, tickle, and laugh. Vadim didn’t just crave her body, but wanted possession of her heart and soul as well. That would come later, he knew. Trust needed to be built in layers, and yet he’d betrayed hers in one single swoop. There was no helping it.

  Gustav Petrovich had her entire family in his sights, would want nothing more than to see all of the Valentins dead or suffering, reduced to broken shells.

  “Answer me,” she demanded. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like how exactly?”

  Eve bit her bottom lip.

  So tempting to wrench the gun away. It would be too easy. He could have disarmed her right from the start, but he wanted her to believe she had the power over him. Right now, that deception had been necessary, but not for long. Eve didn’t understand. She probably assigned them roles, him her captor, she the victim, but five years ago, she’d already captivated him, cursed him. Vadim couldn't look at any other woman, didn’t want anyone else.

  “Like you want to devour me inside and out.”

  “And you’re scared of that?”

  “I’m frightened that I’ll let you, that there’s truth to your words, but everyone has a choice.”

  “Choices can be limiting. I might be a made man in my own right, but I trust few and have no family backing me. I can only save one person. That’s you.”

  Vadim didn’t mention Eve had only been the one worth saving. None of her kin appreciated her, saw her for the treasure she was. He pried the gun from her fingers. She let him fling it aside, until it clattered on the wooden floor. Vadim had only one last use for it anyway.

  She surprised him yet again, clenching her fists against his chest. Vadim wrapped his arms around her frame by instinct, and didn’t comment when she started slamming her hands against his chest. It tore him to pieces, seeing her crack, his proud, brave princess. Eve probably held everything in to get by, to pick up his weapon and point it at him.

  That day, Vadim discovered Eve wept silently. Exhausted, she buried her face into his chest. He tangled fingers into her hair, holding her close, giving her what she needed. Vadim moved his hand to her lower waist.

  He didn’t know how long they stood like that. It didn’t matter. Time became irrelevant, once he’d spirited her away from the city to his isolated cabin in the woods, far from civilization. No one would find them here. He made sure of that a long time ago.

  Eve lifted her head, hatred burning bright in her eyes. That was all right, too. Rage, he could deal with. At least it hadn’t been defeat.

  “I hate you with every fiber of my being.” She hissed, pushing him away.

  He let her go, because she needed the distance. Even if she ran, Eve wouldn’t be able to go far.

  Chapter Three

  Eve spotted Vadim’s shirt on the floor near the door, plucked it up, and pulled it on. She didn’t risk looking back, terrified he’d be on her heels, and could easily yank her back inside. Or worse, chain her to the bed. Barefoot, she ran out the door, down the stairs.

  Wood everywhere, she noticed, from flooring to the walls. Like upstairs, simple furniture graced the space. A bear rug lay in front of a fireplace, hunting trophies on the walls.

  No.

  A nagging suspicion formed in her mind as to where he’d taken her, but s
he refused to believe it. Eve approached the front door, opened it, expecting the worst—a dirt lane with Vadim’s truck and beyond that, a grove of thick trees that seemed to go on for miles. Where had he taken her?

  The tinkling sound of metal made her turn her back.

  “You looking for this?” Vadim dangled the truck key in one finger, joined by other keys.

  Snatching it would be laughable. Vadim was bigger than she was, a thousand times more lethal.

  “Where are we?”

  If she kept him talking, he might lower his guard and eventually make a mistake. Eve would swoop in for the kill, take those keys. She might throw in a punch or two, but he’d overpower her in an instant. Not only was he bigger in terms of mass but he’d honed his body to a weapon for years.

  “Thousands of miles from the city. I own this parcel of land, but no one will search for us here. I’ve made the necessary arrangements to ensure our privacy and security. That’s all you need to know.” Vadim tossed the keys on the ground between them.

  Eve hesitated. “What sort of trick is this?”

  First, he told her he didn’t plan on letting her go, but now he offered the keys to his truck?

  “No trick, but be aware of the consequences of your actions, princess. Gustav’s men recognize you, and his influence extends to other places.”

  Recalling the men who’d held her down and called her names, she shuddered, wrapping her arms around her body. Eve didn’t make a move towards the key at her feet.

  “I have no money, or anyone to turn to.” Defeat tasted like bitter ashes in her mouth. She’d grown up understanding the daughter of a mafia boss didn’t have any friends, only allies who’d shift alliances when a better deal came along.

  “You have me, and I’ll always stand by you.”

  Vadim locked gazes with her, a silent dare in his eyes.

  Eve found her voice. “Why would I want a monster by my side?”

  Vadim growled, the sound making the hair over her arms rise. She remembered thinking he was similar to a sleek and beautiful predator, standing by the balcony, but nonetheless, a predator capable of snapping her neck in an instant.