“I am Mrs. Zaleskya. It has been all over the Russian news, Dimitri. Do you think my husband will just allow this? Even if you kill me, you will never stop him from coming for me, from finding you and killing you…slowly.”
“He doesn’t know where you are or who has you. He’ll never find out. Your brother can’t find his own whore, so I’m certain Radimir will not find you,” he grins, reaching for my neck and wrapping his hand around it, squeezing.
I don’t allow him the satisfaction of my struggles.
I want him to go ahead and end my life. It would be better to be dead than living through the horrified future he has informed me of.
“Fight,” he grinds out. I smirk—I refuse.
I refuse him and his sick fantasies.
I love Radimir. If to love him means sacrificing myself in death so that this traitor cannot use me against him, then I will. Rad holds my heart and he always will. I will not allow Dimitri to tear me apart piece-by-piece. Physically, I cannot overpower this man. It wouldn’t matter if I kicked and punched him. But he would not be satisfied in his new mission if I am dead. I’ll let his anger be at the forefront, and once I am gone, so is part of his sick revenge.
My fate accepted, I close my eyes and send a prayer out to Radimir.
I hope that he knows I fought the way I knew how.
I pray that he finds love.
I hope that he is happy.
I pray that he finds peace for the childhood he endured.
The world around me goes black, and I know that my time has come.
Maybe I will see my mother again.
A woman I only vaguely remember. A woman whose life was ended by my father—for insubordination. Another woman who refused to accept her fate and tried to fight back. Another woman who was brought to death by a cruel man.
It has been my destiny since my birth. Death by cruelty.
My breathing is shallow. I am trying to be as quiet as possible as we surround the home. It is set up in a suburban neighborhood, and the people surely have no idea what kind of hell happens here. I know, though. I have seen men ten times crueler than these cowards could ever dream of being.
I take a deep breath and look through one of the back windows into the home. This place has shit security. I wonder how on earth Dimitri could allow that. Maxim surely taught the man how to property secure a house.
“We go in in one minute, together,” Kirill breathes quietly. I nod, trying to stay silent.
I hear a bird chirp and I know it is the thirty second count down. There is no movement that I can see in the back part of the home, and that concerns me. It means we have no visual, and we are going in blind. Who knows what we will be walking into? I like to be prepared. I like to have a good idea of the outcome in a situation like this. I have no clue what will happen thirty seconds from now. None at all.
Kirill lifts his chin and it is time to go. We burst through the house, the windows breaking with some of the men’s entrance, but Kirill and I break down the door and rush inside. The home seems empty, but I hear a thud from what I guess is the living area. I rush toward the direction of the sound and see Dimitri standing over a crumpled body. The body on the floor has black hair and I know that it is my queen.
“Moy chernovolosyy koroleva,” I murmur, looking down at her, training my gun on Dimitri.
“Your raven haired queen is a dead, fucking whore,” Dimitri rumbles before he begins to laugh. My eyes snap to his.
“What is wrong with you? Why would you do this?” I ask, trying to keep the jumbled words in my head straight. The only thing I want to do is rush to Emiliya and hold her.
“The Bratva ruined Maryia, sold her when she was a child. Ivan sold her off after he fucked her up, and now you all pay. She used me, wouldn’t fuck me, but she was meant for me,” he rambles. It confuses me further.
“This is all because Maryia, who was abused her whole life, wouldn’t spread her legs for you?” I ask in shock.
“I sold that no good whore off to a sadist. Best decision I ever made—got Ivan out of the picture and the focus on him. I took Ashley to make Yakov suffer for his father’s fuck ups, and Emiliya I took because she had a high price on that pussy. Ivan had been promising that cunt, along with power and money, to just about every man of worth for a decade. Then he has a contract for one of his own men? Bullshit. He pissed off a lot of men with that move. A lot of men wanted that printsessa.”
My stomach lurches at his words. This has nothing to do with me. This has to do with hurting a dead man and retribution. I have my own retribution; but unlike this pussy in front of me, I will take it out on the man who deserves it.
“Where are Sasha and Dima?” I growl, ignoring his fucked up speech.
“Around,” he smirks, as if hiding a secret from me.
Seconds later, four of Kirill’s men bring Sasha and Dima into the room. I watch with satisfaction as Dimitri’s eyes go wide with shock. Yakov is following behind and walks straight over to me.
“Ashley is upstairs in a room, heavily guarded now by Kirill’s men, but I cannot find Emiliya,” he murmurs. I don’t answer him with words. Instead, I jerk my chin toward the pile on the floor. Emiliya has not moved.
“You killed my sister?” Yakov yells. Dimitri shrugs.
“Enough talking, no?” Kirill asks, speaking for the first time. I nod in agreement. I want to be done with talking and start torturing already.
Kirill’s men shove Dima, Sasha, and Dimitri to the ground, pulling their arms behind their backs before they wrap wire around their wrists. Dimitri’s bravado falls a bit, and I cannot help but laugh at the idiotic bastard.
I will make him suffer.
There is moan from the lump on the floor, and I rush to her side, uncaring of how I am viewed by the other men in the room. With the threats secured, I can finally get my Emiliya. I wrap her in my arms and turn her over. She is breathing, it is shallow, but she lives.
“Em,” I mutter, wrapping my hand around her cool cheek.
“Rad,” she rasps before her head lolls back. I turn to one of the men.
“Take her upstairs to Ashley. I do not want her to see what we are about to do.”
The man nods and carefully gathers her in his arms. He walks away, carrying her as if she is made of fine china, and I decide immediately that I will enjoy working for Kirill. His men are proving to be good, and I need more of that in my life.
“You are a disappointment to the establishment, Dimitri; and these two buffoons are worthless,” Kirill says. I watch Dimitri stiffen, but wisely, he doesn’t speak.
“Stand them up,” Kirill orders.
I watch as all three men are picked up by their bound wrists. They stand in front of us in a straight line, all looking straight ahead, waiting for what is to come their way.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself before we kill you?” Kirill asks, arching a brow at the bastards.
“We were just doing what our Brigadier instructed us to,” Sasha cries out.
“I forced you to accept blow jobs from Emiliya and to fuck Ashley until she bled?” Dimitri counters.
I don’t have a chance to even let the words sink in before Yakov screams and charges the man. He points his gun at his forehead and orders him to sink to his knees. The man refuses, further pissing Yakov off, and he fires a shot in one of his knee caps, then the other—forcing him to the ground.
“You fuck my Ashley? You make my woman bleed for your sorry ass?” Yakov yells, grabbing the man by the hair and wrenching his head back. His answer is garbled, but we all know the truth.
Dimitri is weak. Of course he wants his men to suffer the way he will suffer.
Good.
He can watch.
He will be last.
Yakov takes a knife out of his waist and slowly trails it down the man’s chest, toward his stomach. He then shoves it into the flesh of his belly and twists it. Sasha screams in agony, but that doesn’t deter my friend.
Ya
kov cuts his pants off and then slowly saws off his balls first, and then his cock. It should be gruesome, but I find it eerily satisfying. I have cut cocks off before, but this is something new. Yakov is taking revenge and retribution out for his woman—it is beautiful.
I allow Yakov to exact his revenge on the two guards. By the time he is finished, they are unrecognizable. He has taken all of their teeth and placed them in a bag, along with their fingers. Though it is doubtful anybody will ever find their bodies once the men dispose of them, it is nice to have assurances that they will indeed never be identified. Plus, it was fun watching them cry like bitch pussy’s, since they were so tough violating helpless women.
“Make it quick,” Dimitri pleads.
His begging and pleading makes me laugh.
“I wouldn’t make your death quick if you paid me, Dimitri. Nothing on this earth could make me kill you fast. I kill men I respect quickly. I kill women and children quickly. Who I do not kill with speed, is the man who stole what is mine. My woman, my fucking wife. Mine. You, Dimitri, will suffer greatly, and I for one am highly anticipating your screams.” I smile as fear settles in Dimitri’s eyes.
Once I finish with Dimitri I look around at our handiwork. It took a while to accomplish this task. Finding and torturing these three pieces of shit. But the satisfaction I feel at the time I took to kill Dimitri is more than I thought possible. I could have made his death fast and had my queen back in my arms, but why would I give a traitor rat-bastard an easy death? It would be too great an honor to give him a painless end.
No, I had no choice but to torture the sick fuck.
“ARE YOU OKAY?” ASHLEY’S soft voice asks from beside me. She’s petting my hair as I lie on my side, trying to comprehend what has just happened.
“Rad,” I rasp, my voice hoarse from Dimitri’s hand being wrapped so tightly around it.
“He’s here, and so is Yakov. They’ve brought an army,” she informs me. I finally allow myself to truly breathe, to relax.
“We’re free,” I say, taking her hand in mine.
“I will never be free, Emiliya.” I open my mouth to say something, but she shakes her head with a smile. “Neither of us are truly free. We belong to these men. We belong to the Bratva, and we will never get away from it. I have accepted this as my future, and I am okay with that, as long as Yakov is my future.”
Ashley loves my brother. She loves him madly and deeply. The blush to her cheeks is new, and I find that I love it on her. She has been through unimaginable hells and she deserves Yakov’s love. I only hope that he deserves her complete and total devotion.
About an hour later, the door bursts open and three large figures loom in the doorway. I recognize Yakov and Radimir, but the third man is a complete stranger. He makes me nervous. He’s devilishly handsome, with dark messy hair and a short clipped beard. He is slim but tall, dressed exactly like the other men in military style, all-black uniforms. However, he oozes a power that is beyond any other man I have ever met.
“Ashley,” Yakov breathes.
I think for a moment his knees will buckle to the ground, but they don’t. He stands up straight, squaring his shoulders before he barks a command at her. He orders her to come to him. I watch in shock and awe as she crawls toward him, sitting on her knees with her ass resting on her heels, her head down, and her hands on her thighs, palms up.
Yakov pets her head for a beat before his fingers slip under her chin. He lifts it so that their gazes lock on each other. I feel wrong for watching them. This moment is so intimate, but we are all frozen, watching their exchange.
Yakov runs his fingers down her neck and around to the back of her head before she begins to sob. He picks her up and cradles her like a child, holding her. His eyes cut to mine before they sweep my body, and then he nods before turning and leaving the room.
“Emiliya,” Radimir says, once they have left the room. My attention is focused solely on him.
“Radimir,” I breathe before standing on my shaky legs.
I run toward him. I launch my body into his, sagging against his frame but lifting my arms around his shoulders, and burying my face into his neck.
“Moy chernovolosyy koroleva,” he murmurs. He picks me up, one arm holds my bottom and the other slides up and down my back.
“Take me to the beach, Radimir,” I beg through my sobs.
I feel his body shake in a laugh before he squeezes me tightly.
“To the beach it is, kotik.”
Hours later, we are on a jet headed back to the United States. I have yet to release myself from Radimir’s body. I am currently sitting in his lap, pressing my body against his—my cheek resting against his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I’m still in the little boy-short panties and tank top that Dimitri forced me to wear, but I don’t care. Radimir will have to pry me off of him.
I am never leaving his side again, ever.
“Hush, kotik, sleep,” he murmurs as he runs his fingers over my bare arm.
I close my eyes and I finally sleep. I try not to envision the white home that we were held in going up in flames, knowing that a dead Dimitri, Dima, and Sasha are inside. Watching as Radimir handed authorities money to keep them quiet before we left in the night. I try not to think about what happened during the days he held us there.
I want to focus on the positives, the good. Radimir found me before it was too late; Yakov is happy with Ashley; and we are going to spend a week doing nothing but relaxing on the beaches of California.
“I will have her call you when we arrive,” Radimir’s chest rumbles against my cheek. I turn my head to see my brother beginning to exit the plane, a sleeping Ashley in his arms.
“Are you leaving?” I quietly call out, my throat aching even more as times passes.
“Yes. Call me when you arrive in California,” he says before exiting the plane.
I want to call out after him, but he is distracted. He has only Ashley on his brain, and I can’t help the small smile that plays on my lips. My brother is completely infatuated.
Once the plane fuels and takes off again, I immediately fall asleep, nestled in Radimir’s arms. I was only awake long enough to discover who the handsome stranger traveling with them was. Kirill Baryshev, Radimir’s new Pakhan in California. I wish that this was not how his new boss came to meet me, but there is nothing I can do about it. I am too thankful for his help to be upset about anything.
Kirill gives me a sideways glance and I shake my head. I do not want to talk about what has happened with Emiliya in my arms. She is safe, that is all I should be concerned with.
Once we are in California, in the apartment Kirill has provided for us, then we may discuss what has happened privately. I do not want her to know what we found in that house. I do not want her to have more nightmares than the ones she will certainly already have coming her way.
“She is strong,” Kirill says before we land in California.
“She was born a Chekova and is now a Zaleskya,” I state, as if it is proof of her strength.
The truth is, I have no idea how she will be mentally until after it all hits her. She will break. My beautiful raven haired queen will indeed break—eventually. She is not a man. She was not truly raised in this lifestyle. The murder and horrific things I have witnessed throughout my life have never touched my beautiful bride until this incident. It will never touch her again. Once is too much.
“Do not doubt her strength, Radimir. She is strong. The video did not lie. She did not simply accept what was done to her. She fought. I have known weak women. She is not one of them.” I open my mouth but Kirill waves me off before he continues.
“I had a weak woman once. A girlfriend; she was pregnant with my baby. The FBI were following me, for whatever reason, and told her some things. Some truths mixed with some lies. She believed everything they told her instead of coming to me and straight up asking. She killed herself, along with my baby, the next day. Her note explained she could not l
ove a man as evil as me and bring his baby into the world, knowing that my evil would flow through the baby as well. She was weak.”
I don’t respond as the plane touches down and lands in California. We are here. Our new home. Safe. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding, and the tension from the past few days instantly eases out of me. My wife is in my arms, safe, and that piece of shit is dead.
Kirill exits the plane without another word. I watch him as he goes, and I am shocked. I could not imagine Emiliya doing such a thing as he claims his woman had done. Taking her own life, and a life we created together as well.
Maybe Emiliya is strong. Perhaps she has hidden strength deep inside of her that is waiting to burst through her soft exterior. I try to shake thoughts of Kirill’s confession out of my head as I stand, Emiliya still wrapped in my arms as I exit the airplane. I am tired of flying, tired of worrying, and plain exhausted.
Once I situate Emiliya in my lap in the black SUV, I am on countdown until we arrive at our new luxury apartment. I don’t close my eyes for a second, knowing that I will be fast asleep if I do. I need to stay alert. I trust no one at this point.
Dimitri was severely disturbed, turning into something unrecognizable because of his perceived rejection with Maryia. Essentially, he signed her death because he didn’t get what he wanted—fucking childish prick.
I take Emiliya up to our new home, not bothering to turn on a single light. I stumble toward the bedroom and gently lay her down on the bed. She is dirty and her hair is a tangled mess; but with the moonlight shining down on her in this safe bed, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
I slowly strip my clothes from my body and climb into the bed behind her. Wrapping my arms around her body, throwing my leg over her thighs. Finally, after seventy-two straight hours of no sleep, I fall into slumber with my Emiliya right next to me.
What feels like mere minutes later, I roll over to discover that the bed is empty. I sit straight up, my breath heavy and sweat beginning to pour off of my skin. My eyes dart around the room. There is no sign of Emiliya, and I go into a full blown panic.
Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) Page 15
