by Bethany-Kris
But for Karine, it almost seemed like outside the circle of her father’s closest people, no one knew she even existed.
And that didn’t sit right with him.
Why?
Why do that?
“Yeah,” Roman said, smirking his friend’s way. “That’s exactly the point. Nobody seems to know she’s there. Even when she’s standing in the damn room.”
Marky squinted his eyes, considering the information. “If they are trying to hide her away, it’s not going to be easy information to dig out.”
“Which is why I can’t do it myself—too many eyes on me currently.”
Marky sucked in a deep breath, disapproval drawing his lips together in a grim line. He didn’t need the man to say what was clear—Roman should stay out of trouble and not go digging around in a pile of shit. If only things were that easy.
At the same time, he knew better than to tell Roman anything—but especially what to do or not do. Roman wished he could explain everything to Marky, it would make a lot more sense. However, he had to watch what he said and what Marky might tell other people, too.
“There’s a lot to unpack here,” Marky said, twirling a finger in front of himself as if to magically conjure up a picture of Roman’s mess. His friend wasn’t dumb; he could put things together without actually asking. Like the fact he was asking about a boss’s daughter. Something no man had any business doing. “And I’m thinking it’s better if I don’t ask, right?”
Yeah.
Definitely not stupid.
It was probably for the best if Marky knew as little as possible. Until Roman had all the facts, anyway. Whatever they were.
“Why did you bring up Dima?” he asked his friend. “Why did you think I would be interested in him?”
Marky gave him a look—an unspoken wasn’t it obvious? Then, he laughed under his breath and said, “Honest to God, the fucker messed with you. He is the reason you got locked up—he fucking set you up. You’re telling me you’re not going to—at some point—make him answer for that? You, Roman. Little Odessa’s Devil, never leaves a slight unanswered. Not going to happen. Besides, I didn’t get a good vibe from him. It wasn’t just the fact that he wanted to fuck around with your position and freedom, either. Some people just don't vibe right.”
Roman’s brow dipped. “Did you look into him?”
Marky lifted his shoulders quickly. “A little. Spoke to a few guys who’ve worked with the Yazovs here previously.”
Roman damn near held his breath.
“Let’s just say the motherfucker is bad news,” Marky added after a second.
And there went Roman’s good mood.
Bad news meant nothing.
The truth of the matter was they were all bad news. Marky, Roman, the Yazovs, and even his own family. The whole fucking bunch of them—it depended on which side of the fence you were on. They were branded as criminals by the majority of society. And yet, they were still family, friends, husbands, lovers, fathers, sons, and more to the people who lived their life with them.
Monsters?
They’re not so scary when you love one.
Marky could see Roman’s lack of interest clearly, because he was fast to say, “Well, you know he has a major role to play in the Yazov’s trafficking operations.”
“Yeah, that’s common knowledge.”
“But apparently it goes deeper than that. It’s not just grown women he deals with. He has connections with groups that deal with a younger demographic. Real young. Pre-pubescent.”
And then there was the scum of them all, he thought. The lowest of the low that would do the worst of the worst for greed and power. Dirty money couldn’t get dirty enough. He understood he didn’t have a lot of room to speak—being crime was crime, and sin was sin—but he didn’t mess with that kind of shit.
In any way.
Fuck.
Child trafficking was something that could make the tiny hairs rise on the back of Roman’s neck. Not a feeling he encountered very often. How far did his connections go with those groups—was he directly involved, as hands-on as he was with his working girls? Did Maxim know, or Leonid?
Likely.
Money was money, right.
They didn’t have to make it.
Roman had one hand in the pocket of his leather jacket, and it grazed against the folded up piece of paper he carried around all the time now. The sketch seemingly drawn by a child. A child that lived in the Yazov mansion?
It was apparent they were trying to keep Karine hidden from the outside world for some reason. Frankly, it didn’t seem like all that far of a jump to assume there were more secrets to uncover there.
“You understand what I’m saying?” Marky asked, bringing him back to the conversation.
Roman nodded, but absently. “I just need some intel on Karine.”
The suspicious glint in Marky’s eye said he wasn’t entirely sure he believed his friend, but he didn’t seem willing to push it. Roman drank another gulp of his beer. The more he thought about Dima, the worse his stomach churned. He needed something concrete first before he started digging anywhere near that asshole. Too many balls were now tossed up in the air, and he had to catch every single one of them.
And if Roman was really going to climb this hill, then Karine was where he would put his focus first. Like why she was being treated by the Yazovs the way she was. He had to make sense of her first, before he could look in to what was going on with Dima. If there was a connection that led Roman to the other issues he still had up in the air at the moment, well ... that’s probably where he would have to move next.
If she was being forced to marry Dima, then Karine might have some answers he needed—but he had to get to her first.
Marky sighed, drawing Roman back again.
“I need you to act fast,” he said. “I don’t really think I have a lot of time to ... put a puzzle together, so to speak.”
And he was missing a lot of pieces. That much was clear.
Then, Roman stood up and walked over to his desk to shuffle through some papers. An action that would tell Marky that the conversation ended there—he didn’t need opinions, only action. Not when he knew his friend couldn’t actually give him any insight. He needed facts first.
It was that kind of situation. Roman had to tread carefully. Behind him, Marky remained silent, telling him that his best friend understood.
Good enough for him.
SIXTEEN
Days melted into weeks, and for the first time, Karine felt acutely aware of it all. Every second, minute, and hour. Each one that made up a day. And then all seven in an entire week. She couldn’t pinpoint why the change, but she knew exactly when it began.
The second she kissed Roman in that alleyway. She didn’t like to think about that night—when her inevitable destiny was unashamedly announced to the rest of the world. She might as well have been officially branded as Dima’s property.
Signed and sealed.
Being shipped off to a man who terrified her loomed ahead as her wedding day inched closer and closer. The day to end all her freedom. Even the little that she had now—still living in her own quarters in the Yazov mansion—would be gone altogether.
What would she do then?
Once she was married to a man who would control every breath she took; every thought in her head. How was she going to make it through the rest of her life?
Karine blinked the tears threatening to blur her vision, still unsure of how her life had ended up the way it did. It wasn’t a good thing to count down time—it could make a person so aware of how fast it was running out that they became obsessive about what they wanted to do with it. She was no exception to the rule.
Tonight could be the only night she had to live. In any real sense, as it were.
Standing in the veranda that could be accessed from her bedroom, she had a long-shot view of the front of the mansion. The section that was a part of her father’s side where she was rarely
allowed to visit, unless it served some purpose, especially not on a night like tonight.
Tribute, that was.
She knew the rules. That side of the mansion where she might be seen was off-limits unless otherwise said when she couldn’t be monitored and wasn’t needed. Meaning, wanted. Usually, Karine was very good at following the rules. She had spent her whole life living by them.
It made things easier.
That wasn’t enough to make her wonder ...
For her to consider .... it could be her only chance to see Roman again. Before the wedding, of course. After that, she doubted the light of day would grace her life for a while. She didn’t know if he would be here tonight, but given what she understood regarding tribute, it was likely he would.
A thrill ran down her spine at the idea—at the thought of seeing him again—because she hadn’t once got the man out of her mind. All it took was a kiss; the way he looked at her when he touched her was too much.
And not enough.
She could almost taste his hot mouth against her own, demanding she give him another lick, and the imprint of his fingers digging into her hips to keep her pinned to him had remained for days.
She’d done something stupid, then.
Karine wanted to do it again.
Tipping her head back, she stared at the night sky—when was the last time she had seen so many stars? She blinked repeatedly, wondering if they might disappear if she stared at them hard enough. Except they didn’t. The stars remained exactly where they were. The only constant in her life.
And sadly, she was only now starting to notice that fact. There was a reason for that, too.
Karine hadn’t taken a single pill—one she stumbled upon on her own, or medication from Masha—in longer than she could remember. Was it that morning—yesterday? At first, she thought she was being crazy, but she wasn’t imagining it.
Masha offered her less than she used to with no explanation. At first, Karine was confused and angry. That was the one way she made it through the day, something she almost depended on. It was a lot to constantly drown in her thoughts and emotions—no longer numbed to it all by a never-ending supply of this pill or that one to keep her perky and happy when needed.
It was a different kind of helplessness and fear. She fought through it—taking it one day at a time, one moment to the next. She might be so jittery she could barely sit still one second, and then she’d be lost to her mind in the next.
And then one morning, Karine wasn’t so angry about it. Maybe that was the moment her mind started to clear of the haze, her random thoughts weren’t just irrational. She started to consider what it would feel like if she didn’t ask for the pills—Masha was still quick to give them when she thought Karine might make a scene, after all. What would happen if she stopped taking them altogether?
What would be left of herself or her mind when the surge of fake chemical happiness and nerve-numbing calm were suddenly missing from her life?
It was scary.
More than she wanted to admit.
Yet, Karine was determined. She could stick it out—she would. Especially now that she had the chance to be able to hold a single thought longer than a few moments at a time when Masha wasn’t offering medication constantly to deal with every little upset. More importantly, since this could be her last chance to have any independent thought before her impending marriage. She wasn’t about to ruin her moment of possible freedom for a couple hours of rose-tinted emotions.
Those few minutes in the alleyway had proved to her it would be more than worth it. Just like that, Karine’s mind drifted to that night with Roman. Something changed in her, then. She felt it click in her brain. Not that she even knew how to begin to describe it.
No man had ever touched her the way he did—none made her want it. Not like he did. She felt safe with him—he’d made her brave and bold.
And she wanted to feel it again.
Be that again.
Masha wasn’t there—on tribute nights, her services were required by her father, more often than not. Or rather, Maxim preferred her over others. Karine usually spent the night by herself, as she was supposed to do.
Now that she stood at the veranda and heard the cars driving to the front of the estate, she couldn’t help the shivering tingle of excitement. It crawled through her veins slowly, with promise. Something she very rarely felt about anything.
This could be it.
Her only chance at exercising her own thoughts and wishes. For once, she could do something she wanted, because she wanted to do it. Her life was about to change drastically—she didn’t want to regret what she hadn’t done.
Besides, what more did she have to lose?
• • •
The big weeping willow tree at the side of the mansion by the rocky wall that outlined the driveway became her newest hiding spot. Karine knew the tree well. She had spent a lot of time under it when she was younger and wanted to stay hidden and unseen.
Tonight, she found herself under the tree again, sitting on a large, exposed root at the back side. The branches and leaves that surrounded her created the perfect canopy against prying eyes.
Besides, as much as her father liked to keep the mansion well lit and imposing, the driveway usually remained dark when the sun set. He preferred to keep his guests and arrivals secret from curious neighbors and cameras. Even Karine could figure that out.
She plucked wildflowers growing in the grass around her, brushing the soft petals along her cheeks. If she pressed her eyes closed hard enough, she could almost imagine Roman touching her again. For a man with a presence as imposing as his, including his size, he had a soft touch. Even in the hardness of his stare, she had found something kind, and curious.
Her eyes flew wide as more cars arrived, driving in and taking their positions at the entrance to the house. The spaces were quickly filling up and still, there was no sign of Roman.
Her heart fell at the possibility he wouldn’t show up. She had no idea if he was even in Chicago anymore—she didn’t really know anything about him at all. What was his life like outside of her world?
Then, she saw a car and there he was, sitting in it. Parked at the very end of the row, it had come in only seconds after the car ahead of it. She hadn’t paid it much mind because it wasn’t Roman driving. Someone else sat in the driver’s seat, and the two men chatted with smiles on their faces. There was an unmistakable camaraderie between them. The way they shared easy laughter made Karine think they had to be friends.
That traitorous heart of hers skipped a beat when she saw Roman stepping out of the car. His friend did the same, except he went for the duffle bags in the backseat.
“Roman!”
Karine froze the second she spoke. She hadn’t even meant to say his name, but it slipped from her lips before she could stop it. An urge she couldn’t control.
Her voice, carried by the breeze, still reached him. She wasn’t standing that close to him, but he still turned like she had reached out, and touched him on the shoulder.
Karine was so sure that nobody would be able to see her, but he looked at her directly. Through the swaying branches covered with thick leaves, he saw her. Like he had known the whole time exactly where she was hiding.
His friend followed his gaze, and she knew he could see her, too.
Roman looked back at the man before he took a few steps towards her. Karine tried to ignore the vibration at the base of her stomach—butterfly wings beat hard with every ounce of her anticipation. And nerves. She honestly hadn’t thought they would be face to face again.
His first words to her were harsh, though.
“What games are you playing with me, Karine?”
Unexpected, really, from a man who hadn’t hesitated to kiss her back that night—who was so quick to put his hands between her thighs with only a little encouragement, and then dared to tell her he wanted a taste.
Karine tilted her face toward him, asking, “Am I playing
games?”
Roman stood at the edge of the driveway, careful not to take another step closer, and kept his voice low. Conscious about the people in the mansion who may have been watching them. “What you’re doing, what you did before, it could get me fucking killed. Don’t tell me you don’t know that. You know who you are—the people you belong to.”
“But do you care about that?” she returned fast.
Karine didn’t know where these words were coming from—the braveness that raced from her mouth like it hadn’t come from her own mind. It had to be the result of weaning away from relying so heavily on her medication, or maybe she was just finally growing a fucking spine for the first time in her life.
Whatever it was, she liked it.
Roman seemed like the type who might like it, too.
He remained silent at her question, unwilling to answer. Or maybe he wasn’t a liar. Just what she thought.
He didn’t give a fuck.
Not about the rules, anyway.
“I want to spend the night with you,” she blurted out.
Or that’s probably how it seemed. Instead, she’d carefully planned those words. She wanted to see the way he would react to them.
Roman’s stare didn’t move from hers, but his left eyebrow jumped higher. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Which one of us is laughing?”
“Why would you even offer that to me knowing who you’re marr—”
The words came tumbling out of her mouth to stop him from saying another thing. She only cared to make one thing clear about any of this to him. Boldness might get her what she wanted. “Because for once, I want a choice. I want to do exactly what I feel like doing tonight. Would you give me that ... you were willing before? I don't think that’s changed.”
Again, he was silent.
That was all the answer she needed.
Tonight, Karine didn’t care about the consequences of her actions. She cared about the feasibility of it. She just needed to figure out a way to make this happen. After that, she wouldn’t ask for anything.
If she could just choose, for once, to have what she wanted if only for a night, then she would follow each rule, all their demands and orders. Their every command—like a good girl. Maybe, in the hell she was sure to find within her inevitable marriage to Dima, it might finally be the way she had never been able to find before to make her father proud. But all of that was past and future.
