Venomous (The Clans Book 11)

by Elizabeth Knox

  If you had asked me the day my sister left the brothel and threw me under the bus with Valentin if I’d ever be alright again, I would have laughed.

  How does someone become alright after that?

  But I didn’t know my knight in shining armor would come for me out of nowhere and reveal what he did. That he had paid for me to get out of there, to have a new life. I was so stunned, but it almost made sense now, the reason he left. It wasn’t about not wanting me, it was about letting me live the better life he wanted me to.

  He hasn’t had much in way of feelings yet, but I think it’s there, under the surface. We have spent many hours in each other’s arms, and he did admit to me that he had assumed once I was free I would come looking for him.

  How had he felt when I had not?

  Something about floating on the water, eating fish, and drinking wine, lots of silence and nowhere we have to be, has changed my perspective on something.

  I feel freer than I have been my entire life, and I don’t care much to rush what needs to happen with that freedom. Davide Lupei shows me passion. He shows me affection, even if he doesn’t realize it yet. For now, it’s enough

  And it’s easy to put the past behind me and forget all those things that happened to me because they seem like they belong to another person in another life.

  I don’t know what has made Regina this way; a flaw she was born with, the fact that she couldn’t cope with the life we had growing up as well as I could. I could put blame on all kinds of places and people, but there’s no point, It’s a waste of my energy I could spend on a new life.

  There hasn’t been any ominous talk about Valentin or Regina since the first night I got to the boat, and I can’t help but think it must have all blown over. Wishful thinking, maybe, but with Valentin in the hospital, paralyzed for life, and Regina and Galina both split apart with nowhere to go, my thought is they are back on the streets or something, not somewhere they can hurt me or Davide. And what can Valentin really do from his bed?

  Davide stands at the back of the boat and calls me over to him from where I had been laying. I stand up and go to him, finally getting my sea legs. I hadn’t been too nauseous, but I had trouble moving around without stumbling all over the place.

  He points out to me there is a family of whales moving through the water not too far in front of us.

  "Neuvěřitelný, incredible," I say to him as he pulls me against his body and kisses me on the top of my head. A warmth spreads from his lips down my body, and I find it hard to tell the difference between falling for him and lusting after him in moments like these. It’s so strange, after all the years with men who want sex who feel they cannot get what they need at home, to learn the two might be one in the same. Or at least go alongside each other.

  I don’t understand why people then waste time with incompatibility when they could choose to be happy. I firmly believe there’s someone for everyone.

  Maybe even a whore like me.

  I hear a ringing, and Davide turns his head, then leaves me to go down into the boat, coming out with a satellite phone over his ear. I didn’t know he even had one of those, but I guess it makes sense, in case of emergencies.

  "Hold on," he says to whoever called, and then he looks at me, holding the phone out to me. "It’s a woman, she asked for you. She says she’s your mother."

  I stare at it for a moment, unsure what to think of this turn of events. I don’t have a clue how my mother could know where I am and how to reach me, or what she could even want.

  I've sent money home to her on occasion, but it’s often sent back to me because she’s too proud. Six months ago, I gave up, and I haven’t talked with her in any way since.

  My first fear is that it’s Regna, that she’s playing a trick, but just maybe, this is Davide’s doing. He’s always being spontaneous. Why wouldn’t he find a way to get us in touch?

  "Ahoj? Mami?" I ask into the phone as I take it. "Is it you?"

  "Ano, Blanka, it’s me," she says, and while her voice is a little rough, I would know it anywhere.

  "Mami, how do you know where to find me!"

  " Omlouvám se, I'm sorry, and I love you."

  "Sorry, what do you mean you’re sorry? For what?"

  "Hello, little sister." Her voice is like an injection of fire into my blood.

  "Jezebel," I use her whore name since she says I'm no longer her family, never was, in fact. Davide is by my side in moments, listening in, his eyes saying what his mouth won’t, not yet. He likely would reveal too much about who I'm with and where we could be.

  I'm not scared of her, not like I was. But something feels off about this.

  "What the fuck do you want, after everything? You think Mami has money to take care of you? She doesn't. Go run back to your drugs, sell them, take them, I don’t care. Get the hell out of my life!" I tell her, and Davide grins at me. I'm finally taking my power back like I should have long ago.

  But then that cackle comes through the line, and it’s worse than nails on a chalkboard, it’s more like a warning from the devil himself. "Oh, Belladonna, you are poison. Your pretty and sweetness turns everything to shit, and Mami will be no different. You've stayed in a bubble of no suffering for too long, playing the favorite of the universe, and I won’t stand for it. And now I have a real reason to do this. It’s your punishment for associating with Romanian scum."

  My eyes go up to Davide, and I can tell he heard.

  She knows we’re together.

  The most heartbreaking scream breaks through the phone, and I drop to my knees.

  "Regina, please!" my mother pleads.

  I am shivering, pleading with my sister, though I don’t even know if she can hear me anymore.

  "I saved that rock from your fingers, Belladonna!" she calls, and I hear it smashing down and more screams. The memory comes rushing back. Most of my childhood had been fuzzy. I’d never seen a therapist, no money for that, but I always knew that the human mind could protect itself by forgetting.

  But I remember how she used to try and make me do things, awful things, and then she would punish me physically. Just a little girl who couldn’t defend against her own older sister.

  And I was thinking it was over.

  What a fool I am.

  "Please, please," I beg, crying, screaming, the peace of this place out at sea ruined.

  "What about our father? After all these years, don’t you think he deserves to be put out of his misery?" Regina asks, her voice a devilish hiss, and I've now changed my mind. The devil must be a woman.

  I hear my mother's painful cries as she tries to get her daughter to stop, probably not understanding at all why this is happening. Knowing there is no way to stop Regina now, I call out to my mother, hoping she can hear me.

  "Just let go, Mami. I love you. Be at peace. I love you. She will pay." I say it in between sobs as I hear my father’s incoherent screams until there is no more. There would have been no way for him to live through anything she could have done to him. He was too sick.

  "That was wholly unsatisfying," Regina says, totally unmoved.

  "You monster. You fucking monster!" I scream my lungs out, wishing for the worst of anything that could happen to someone to strike her down, for a God that has abandoned me my whole life, and likely for good reason, to hear me and strike her down.

  Davide is worried, his hands all over me, wanting to know how he can help. But he can't.

  My mother comes back on the phone. "Your father is dead. Just hang up, Blanka. You shouldn’t hear this."

  I do as she says, giving into her last wish, and hand the phone back to Davide. He can deal with whatever else the woman I once called sister has to say. I slide down to my belly on the boat, like a dried out and dying fish.

  I claw at the boat, then pound my fists. I don’t want to know, I don’t want to hear, I don’t want to feel.

  But I can’t stop any of it. All my power is gone.

  No, that’s not true, because
I never really had any.

  I scream as I bite down on my lip, causing blood to trickle down my face and some in my mouth.

  I claw at my pretty face, blood coming off on my fingers. Any pain is better than the one twisting my stomach in knots, hoping this is a nightmare I will wake from.

  Davide doesn’t leave my side as he hangs up the phone, calling someone else.

  I can see and hear, but it's like it's from somewhere way up high.

  "What a fucking coward, Volkov, using a whore now to do your bidding and having them kill their own family?"

  There's a silence, but even in this state I can feel Davide's anger, and I feel sorry for whatever it is aimed at.

  Or I would, if I could feel anything anymore. I'm too broken to feel.

  "Captain, take us to the closest populated shore. I have fucking plans to put in place," he says once he hangs up.

  Time moves so slow through the thick oil of my misery as he comes down to me and pulls me into his arms. He doesn’t seem to care I've hurt myself and ruined my pretty face.

  "We'll take care of these," he says as he traces the marks I've carved on myself. "Blanka, I am going to make damn sure Volkov and Jezebel pay, but I need you to trust me...and I need to know how you feel about me."

  I allow my world to come into focus for the first time since the screams broke my existence. "I can't play games, Davide. Not anymore. I trust you, but I say nothing more until I know how you feel about me. I have to know. I can’t give my heart to anyone else I could lose."

  He puts a finger under my chin and lifts it, so I look into his eyes. "The games started as fun, sort of. I wanted to test you, to push you, to see what way you would react. But you were so different for me from the first time I laid eyes on you. I knew before I paid for you to be free that you were everything to me even if I thought I didn’t want to settle down. I love you, and if you feel the same, we will be getting married within 24 hours. We will bury your parents properly, and then we will have our revenge."

  His eyes shine down onto mine, and I nod. Everything he says is exactly what I want, and I didn’t even know until he spoke the words.

  Chapter 28

  Davide

  Don't ever let it be said that I don’t go all out, even on a whim.

  I'd like to think that all my party days of having fun and doing crazy things at the drop of a hat has prepared me for this day.

  Alexandria is beautiful; one of the only places on Earth that can rival and be worthy of Blanka’s beauty.

  Even though I have my reasons for doing it other than just my love for her, and even though the happiness is a bit clouded by her grief, I’m pulling out all the stops I can.

  This is a safe, good port for us. The Bratva wants nothing to do with the many terrorist cells in Egypt, some of them directly linked with the government and military.

  One of Sergio's friends was able to hook us up with a man named Ahmed, ex Egyptian Armed Forces who is now a freelance bounty hunter and personal bodyguard. He gives us two men to watch us for the day just in case and even hooks us up with the marriage license we need, as he knows someone.

  That’s what makes the world go round - all the connections and my ability to travel, my want to soak up everything I can in my youth, has made it so I can use all these connections to my advantage. And today I do it all for Blanka.

  We get married in a private ceremony at sunset at the center of this glorious city that looks like it’s preserved from another time. I hope it makes her forget even for a moment what has been done to her.

  Soon enough, she can bring that pain back up. I selfishly want her to because I want to see what hell she can bring with it to use to take down those that have wronged her.

  She may turn out to be the best asset to the Clans yet.

  An angry whore that was always told she’ll be nothing more, leading to the take down of one of our worst enemies.

  We are afforded one night of peace, and then we will get the blood we need to see. After that, I can have a million peaceful nights if she wants. I'll do it for her, but I’m not sure Blanka will want peace any more than I will anymore.

  I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, but she’s my kind of broken. It’s why we fit like a tailored glove.

  Now, we are in our private suite, a room at an estate that Ahmed owns and uses for associates on the run that need a place to hide. It is gorgeous, practically a palace, and untraceable by anyone looking for us.

  Blanka’s peach dress, what I could get her on short notice, hugs her skin and makes my mouth water for her. I come up behind her where she is standing, in front of a vanity that is clearly an untouched original to this historical mansion inlaid in gold and fit for my queen.

  Even though she has suffered so many losses and this was unplanned, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  We look at each other through the mirror as the light touch of one finger snakes down her arms, making goosebumps rise everywhere I travel.

  There's nothing more sensual than watching the effect I have on a woman. I can see it in the movement of her veins, the way her breathing picks up the way her little blonde hairs stand on end.

  "Poppet," I whisper as I slide down one shoulder of the dress and kiss her bare skin there before sinking my teeth in, just for a little nip. "I know you're in pain," I tell her, one of my hands sliding over her lower abdomen. I want to show her that I want her but also that I have her. I am here for her, come what may.

  "I want to show you that pain doesn’t have to ruin you, at least not completely. You can do something with that pain. You can give it back to me. Let me share the burden. And then, tomorrow, you can give it tenfold to your enemy," I whisper to her, low, against her neck.

  I slide her dress off slowly, revealing her white lace lingerie set. It shows off her curves in the most delicious way, and it takes everything I have to hold back and make this slow, sensual, as pleasurable as it’s ever been for her. This is her wedding night, and I will treat her as such.

  Her lips tremble, and I don’t know if it’s out of want or out of the memory of that phone call, listening to what her sister did to her parents.

  "Imagine the blood, splattering across your body, across the room, belonging to Valentin and Regina. Think of its warmth on your skin, its coppery taste as you lick it off your lips and know victory is yours."

  As I say it, she closes her eyes, and I rip off her bodice, her breasts exposed for me to worship. I watch them balance in my hands, being massaged and teased as she presses her back against me.

  Her ass grinds up against my hard cock, and I rip down her panties and my pants in two quick swipes, my cock now pressing against her plump backside, letting her know how I feel for her.

  I let down her hair, looking at the sharpness of the hair pin I took out and grin. I swipe it across my skin, blood trickling out as I bring my arm up to smear the hot, red liquid across her chest. Then, I take a dab and put it under her nose.

  “Imagine this is it, that moment when you hold the life of the worst human on the planet in your hands, and then you crush it. You do your worst to that speck of life that was wrongly given to someone who didn’t deserve it."

  She inhales and opens her mouth as I slide my bloodied finger inside for her to suck. It's a strange, erotic feeling as some of my blood is pulled out of me into her mouth, and while she does it, I pull at her hips, allowing my cock access to her dripping pussy. The whole time, I can still see her in that mirror, sucking my finger like it's my shaft, in and out, in and out.

  "That’s it, Poppet," I hiss as I pull the finger out of her mouth, dragging it back across her breasts, my short nails digging into her skin as I grab them and use them as leverage.

  I push myself inside with a large thrust, and her neck snaps back, calling out to me so loud I'm sure she might break the mirror. I have forced her open too soon, but I know it’s that kind of throbbing, happy pain that comes with a job well done. The kind that takes all the other pain a
way and makes you think you’re in this hell-like paradise.

  I pump into her, slamming deep and reaching as far as her body could possibly take as she gasps, her nails scratching at the vanity that has seen so many years undamaged until now. Now, her mark will forever be there.

  After three more long poundings, she cries herself to sleep softly in my arms, and I pull out my phone, knowing one person I must call before we go after Jezebel tomorrow.

  "Phillippe?" I question quietly, not wanting to wake her up. She needs her rest.

  "Davide, what has happened to you? Ion and Mariana say you've gone off the grid and they couldn’t find you after the news of Volkov came. They’ve linked him and you to the same brothel. There was even a rumor you were dead."

  "You know me better than that," I say darkly, and it’s the truth. He and Carla know I wouldn’t just lay down and croak, not even for Valentin Volkov. "But there is something I need to tell you, and then I need you to be the one to get in touch with Ion. I can’t face him right now. I have a wife to protect."

  "You married that woman from the brothel?"

  I smile, glad he knows better than to call her a whore.

  "Fuck, he did?" I hear Carla’s voice in the background, of course she’s listening.

  "Yes, but I've done it for more than love. She needs protection, and she needs to make someone pay." And so, I tell them a little story, the same one Blanka relayed to me on the boat.

  "Fuck, we'll be there to back you up, Davide. You have my word."

  "Yeah, no crazy bitch is going to get the drop on me," Carla says viciously, and I know she means it. She’s about as crazy as Jezebel, just not twisted in the same way.

  I hang up and get two hours of peace, of rest, before I must enact a plan to give my Blanka what she needs.

  ***

  "Where are we going?" she asks once we make it on the plane, one sent from Stefan of all people. Well, I guess he was more likely to help right now than Ion. Not that Ion won’t allow backup, but he’s not going to make it easy now that I’ve been taking liberties out here on my own without consulting him.