I look at him in silence, still wondering how could this man before me be the wonderful Dimitri that Haleigh has told me so much about? The man who helped her stay sane, and even helped her with Maksimilyan when he was a newborn?
This man is truly a monster.
“Fucking thank me, you whore,” he screams.
I do. I quietly tell him thank you before I turn to Sasha.
I close my eyes and open my mouth, unable to find a way out of the situation. I am in the confined space of the airplane with three large men. I have no weapon and nowhere to run. I am fucked. If I don’t suck Sasha’s cock, I will literally be fucked. I do my best to breathe through my nose and keep my vomit at bay while I suck the cock of a man Radimir trusted to protect me.
Once Sasha has violated my mouth, Dimitri orders me to the man next to him, Dima.
“I want her pussy,” Dima announces, his soulless eyes focused on mine. I turn my head to the side, unable to look at him a second longer.
“I will be the first to take her pussy and her ass, Dima. You may have her mouth as a show of good faith. The other girl at the house will be more than willing to open her legs for you,” Dimitri offers. Dima just grunts, unzipping his pants.
Before he pulls himself out, he leans in close to me. “I will have that little cunt of yours, printsessa. Make no mistake about that. I plan on fucking you so long and so hard, you bleed all over my cock. Then I’ll make you suck it off of me,” he vividly informs me.
I shiver at the thought while he sits up and laughs. My stomach knots and rolls thinking about the things he’s just told me.
“You will definitely need to train her, Dimitri,” Dima laughs as he pulls himself out. I do as I am forced to do. Dima is rougher with me, gagging me until tears fall from my eyes. I gasp for air once he is finished.
I fall to the floor of the plane, unblinking, just staring off into space.
I am no longer Emiliya Ivana Zaleskya.
I am now a whore to be used for these men’s enjoyment.
I let that fact wash over me.
I am angry and disgusted with myself. I should have fought. I should have never allowed myself to be used in such a way, but I feel so helpless.
Maybe this had always been my fate.
My father made sure to raise a subservient woman. It never mattered what I wanted. All that mattered was what he told me. I should count myself lucky and blessed to have had a taste at what life could have been like for me with a good man at my side—a man that would cherish, and even possibly love me one day.
As the plane touches down in South Africa, I know my nightmare is only beginning. Yet, all I can think about is Radimir and how upset he must be to find me gone.
Maybe one day he will find me.
I hope not.
I will be too broken to be the seductress he remembers. I hope that he finds another woman to give him the children he desires. The family he wishes to love.
A single tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of another woman carrying his children.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT I envisioned when we arrived at what would now be my new home, but this was not it. It is a quiet, suburban style street with larger homes spread out. I can imagine children playing in their front yards, oblivious to what horrors this all-white, two-story home assuredly hold.
The yard is green and beautifully landscaped, with tall trees and full shrubs. Dimitri wraps his hand around my elbow and practically drags me into the house. I notice, behind some thick shrubbery, that there is also a swimming pool in the back of the home.
Once inside, Dimitri doesn’t slow his gait. He continues to walk swiftly toward a hallway and up some stairs. Without much resistance from me, he flings me into a bedroom. I slide on my hip across the sleek, wood floors of the room and wince when the door slams shut. As quickly as possible, I stand and run to the door. Grasping the handle, I try to twist it open.
“I wouldn’t even try,” a girl says from the corner, in perfect American accented English. I turn to face her.
The girl is young, perhaps only eighteen years old, with long blonde hair and big, crystal blue eyes. She is also very thin and dressed in only a sheer black tank top and what appears to be bikini style black panties.
“Where are we?” I ask in English. At least I have been taught the language, thanks to Oliver and Haleigh.
“I like to refer to it as hell.” She smiles sadly, her pink, full lips showing no teeth.
“My name is Emiliya,” I offer, walking over to her and sitting beside her with my back against the wall.
“Ashley,” she says softly. I gasp quietly in surprise.
“You are Yakov’s?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
This is the woman that was taken from my brother. This is the woman he has been searching for and so worried over—the woman he has fallen for.
“You know him?” she asks, her blue eyes wide.
I look at her again in a new light. I see it now. She is small and fragile, like a little farforovyye kukly – porcelain doll.
Yakov is a protector by nature; he always has been. This frightened girl is perfect for his protection, not to mention exquisitely beautiful and exactly his type.
“I am his sister,” I admit. I then watch her eyes fill with tears.
“I miss him,” she whispers. I don’t respond. I am unable to say anything in response. I don’t want to think about Radimir, about Yakov, about the promise of the life that was laid ahead of me.
We sit in silence for what seems like hours, our hands linked and our faces staring straight at the door until I can’t stand another second of it.
I have to know what my fate is in this place. What will become of me, and what will become of the woman my brother has fallen for?
“What will happen to me here?” I bravely ask, a quiver in my voice.
“Less degrading things than what I went through under Gregori’s command, but probably more degrading than you have ever known,” she says cryptically.
I want to shake her and ask her what the hell she means, but the door flies open instead.
Dimitri is standing in the doorway, a huge smile on his lips. He winks at me as he strolls inside, closing the door behind him. I don’t miss how Ashley’s breath hitches. She begins to pant in what I can assume is pure fear.
“You have thirty minutes to shower and prepare. I have a party tonight for my newest acquisition, and I wish to show her off. As always, Ashley, you will be in blue. Emiliya, you will be in the black,” he announces, throwing some scraps of fabric at us on the floor. He turns and walks away, closing and locking the door behind him.
“You can shower first,” Ashley offers. I nod.
We don’t speak as we get dressed. I follow Ashley’s lead as she applies makeup and blow dries and styles her hair. She looks even more stunning by the end of the process, and one glance in the mirror proves I look the same.
I haven’t worn makeup much lately, while being in the safe house. Haleigh and I had nowhere to go, so we didn’t bother. I missed how it highlights my features and enhances the things I like about my face. I just wish I were wearing it for Radimir.
The outfits Dimitri threw at us are nothing more than scraps of fabric. Ashley’s blue bikini bra top and thong leave zero to the imagination, and I cringe when I realize mine is the exact same, only in black.
“Men will touch you, Emiliya. They are allowed to touch and expose your breasts. They will expose your pussy, but they aren’t allowed to do anymore unless Dimitri gives them permission. They all know the rules, and they know the consequences for breaking those rules. You are new, so you will be up on a table for viewing. Your arms will probably be suspended by rope and a hook that’s in the ceiling.”
I gulp loudly and she wraps her hand around mine, giving me a gentle squeeze.
“Just close your mind off. Later, after it is all over, we can cry together; but while it’s happening, find a happy place and go there. It is the only way you
’ll survive without breaking,” she whispers, giving me a sad smile. I want to cry, but I don’t. I can do this. I turned my mind off in the airplane with Sasha and Dima, I can certainly do it again.
Dimitri opens the door and smiles widely, noticing our appearances. I wonder, offhandedly, if he’ll give us shoes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he wraps thin gold collars around our necks that are attached to gold chains. He keeps ahold of mine, but hands Ashley’s over to Sasha. He winks at me before he yanks on her chain and walks away from us.
“If you embarrass me in front of my clients tonight, Emiliya, I will let Dima fuck every hole you have afterward,” Dimitri warns.
I nod as tears shimmer in my eyes. He gives me a stern look and I close my eyes in attempt to calm myself, breathing calmly and deeply.
“Your debut will be wonderful, Emiliya. I have some big men here tonight, some powerful men. They have heard and seen your beauty, all of them biding their time until your father opened negotiations for your marriage. When he chose that little weasel, the son of one of his political associates, they were furious. Now they are all waiting to buy your pussy,” he announces. I look up to him in surprise.
“You’re going to sell me?” I ask.
I had recently learned that my father was deep into sex trafficking, but I had no clue as to what happened to the women during those transactions. Haleigh didn’t know, either. I asked her once. Gregori had saved her, after he used her, of course.
“Oh, I am definitely going to sell your pussy, your ass, and your mouth to so many men it will make your head spin. Though, you can rest assured that you’ll be staying here through it all. I will not sell you to a new owner. You’re mine, Emiliya,” he grins, pulling me after him and toward the living area.
“Gentlemen, how good of you to come here for Emiliya’s unveiling. She is brand new to me, acquired only yesterday, so forgive her appearance, as she is probably still fairly jet lagged from her flight. I could not keep her from you today,” Dimitri announces.
Dima appears at my side. Quickly, he slides a gold cuff on both of my wrists before clipping them together. Then, he guides me toward a table. Just as Ashley said would happen. He gently picks me up and places me on the center of the table, sliding a piece of rope between my wrists. He pulls the levy, raising my arms and my breasts simultaneously.
I feel completely exposed and humiliated. I have never been this naked for any man, save Radimir, and it hurts my heart that a room full of strangers are seeing me this way.
“Emiliya Chekova is one of Russia’s most famous heiress daughters. Her father, Ivan Chekov, you all may recall in name?” Dimitri continues.
I don’t correct him. I don’t say that I am no longer Emiliya Chekova, but that I am Emiliya Zaleskya. I doubt throwing the name out there would do anything to help my situation. I watch as the men’s heads nod while they murmur agreement.
“She is not yet trained and, for now, up to view for future negotiations. I will be setting up her schedule and appointments at the close of this evening. Feel free to peruse her. Remember, do not stick anything inside of her. I assure you she is tight. If you make an appointment with her, then you may find out for yourself just how tight she is.” Dimitri laughs at his lame attempt of a joke about my body.
“How much for one weekend with the girl?” a man asks. I look over at him.
The man isn’t ugly. In fact, he’s quite handsome. I wonder why he has to buy women at all. He is tall and slender with dark chocolate hair and eyes. His skin is tanned and he looks to be possibly Latino. His eyes scan my body as he asks Dimitri the question. He gets closer and tips his head as he raises his hand to my breast, hovering just above it as if asking permission.
“You may touch,” Dimitri offers. He grins at my displeasure of a strange man grabbing and kneading my breast.
“She will be twenty-thousand a night, and fifty-thousand for the entire weekend,” he smiles at the man.
“Put me down for her first available full weekend. That body of hers is to die for. Is her ass available?” he asks, as if he is asking a server about food in a restaurant. It makes my stomach roil.
“I will make sure it is prepared during her training. She will be ready for all you have to give her.”
I fight the tears from falling at the barter of my body. I don’t want to know what this training is that Dimitri keeps referring to. I want Radimir. I want him to hold me, kiss me, and protect me. My safety is being at his side, and I want that back. I never want to be without him again.
Another man walks up to me and begins to converse with Dimitri, but I tune out his words, only able to focus on his sweaty hands as they run all over my exposed flesh. I do, however, hear him make an appointment for an evening with me in the future.
By the fourth man, I am sick. Disgusted doesn’t even describe the way I feel about myself. The man grabs a handful of each side of my ass and spreads my cheeks apart. I feel my stomach churn and roll as his breath washes over my back entrance. He’s examining me.
“It is a virgin ass, no?” he asks in broken English.
“It is. I will prepare her by the time she is to be used,” Dimitri offers. He is accurate in his choice of words, for that is exactly what I am to be—used.
I don’t know if there is a way out of this house. If defiance will get me anywhere, if seduction could do it, or if I should just be resigned that this is my life now. Even if I were to leave, somehow, I do not know how I would find Radimir. I don’t know how to reach him, and I don’t have Yakov’s contact information either. I would be wandering around South Africa aimlessly, with no way to contact my own husband or family. I would be alone.
Hours go by as I hang silently from a hook, in the ceiling, on display. My whole body has been groped, squeezed and pinched. I stare off into space. I don’t even notice what is happening around me. I see nothing, even though my eyes are wide open.
My body is lifted and I am carried back to the bedroom before I am unceremoniously dropped onto the hard wooden floor. My wrists are unbound and I am left alone with my thoughts.
Ashley returns the next morning, but she doesn’t say a word before she goes into the bathroom and showers.
I close my eyes tightly and I pray.
I pray for help.
I pray for Radimir.
I just pray.
I WAKE AS THE plane descends, landing in New York, I assume. My head feels like it is going to explode. I am lethargic and slow. My eyes slowly take in my surroundings, and I am suddenly on alert, completely aware as I find the plane desolate. Emiliya, Sasha, and Dima are nowhere to be found. I take my gun out of my shoulder holster and quickly attach its silencer.
Once the plane lands, a weary looking pilot and the flight attendant appear. The pilot, a man I have known for many years, sighs heavily before he begins to rapidly explain how he was held at gun point and forced to land in South Africa.
My blood turns cold.
The girl nods her head and says she was threatened, too. She even forces a few tears out.
“Where is Emiliya?” I ask as calmly as possible. I cannot show emotion. Emotions are weak.
“Sasha and Dima took her,” the flight attendant says quietly.
“I was drugged?” I ask. She nods. “How was I drugged?”
I watch as she pales and her eyes widen; then she explains how they made her drug us. I want to laugh in her face, but I don’t. Instead, I become angry.
“Nobody could make you do a fucking thing with me still conscious. They paid you then?” I ask, my voice still quiet.
The attendant gulps and nods once.
Without a second thought, I shoot her in the middle of her forehead and smile when she falls dead at my feet.
“Where did you leave them?” I demand the pilot.
“Liberia,” he offers. He knows his fate, there is no use in hiding anything from me. I also know that he may have dropped them off in Liberia but there is no way that is where they are. Anybody who has the
balls to orchestrate this, is smart enough to have had transportation waiting.
I don’t even bother asking the pilot anything else, he knows the fucking drill. He should have been man enough to take care of Sasha and Dima himself. Never should he have allowed them to take Emiliya.
I watch as he falls to the ground next to the girl.
I step out of the plane and my eyes meet Yakov’s. His whole body tenses and he waves to his driver to collect our bags. I want to break down.
I want to scream and break shit.
My Emiliya is gone.
My fucking sunshine has been stolen.
I cannot break now.
I must stay strong.
I must find her.
I can break down after she is back, safely in my arms.
I seek revenge.
I seek justice.
I seek my Emiliya.
“Call a cleanup crew. We need a place to store the jet,” I growl, walking up to Yakov.
Without hesitation, Yakov pulls out his phone and barks a few orders into it. He then turns to me with cold eyes and nods.
“Where is Emiliya?” he asks as we slide into the backseat of his SUV.
I wait until the driver gets inside and slowly takes off. I incline my head toward his driver as a question. I have been unable to trust my own people. I need to know if this will continue to be a problem. Yakov shakes his head once and pushes a button, bringing up the partition.
“I trust him as much as I can, but obviously something has happened,” he says grimly. I return his look.
“Emiliya was on the plane with me. Sasha and Dima, whom I thought trustworthy, were our security. They paid off the flight attendant to drug my drink, and once I was passed out, they held a gun to the pilot’s head and forced him to land in South Africa. They were the breach in security. They had been at the safe house with the girls all these months. Lying in wait.
“They took Emiliya off of the plane, and the pilot continued his flight here. I only woke up as we were landing,” I explain, watching the color drain from Yakov’s face. I too feel fucking sick.
Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) Page 13
