by LP Lovell
“No—”
“You knew about the marriage agreement. All these years and you never said anything. Didn’t warn me. Would you have just let him pack me off to marry Enrique and kept quiet? I mean, duty before all else, right?”
“It wouldn’t have come to that.”
“It has come to that! Daddy’s dead!” My voice breaks. “You didn’t even tell me.”
There’s a long pause. “I’m sorry.” Her apologies aren’t going to help me now.
I’m alone, literally and figuratively. “There’s no escaping this, and I am tired of running when I can’t see an end.”
“I’m trying to fix it.” There’s a pleading edge to her voice. My sister never changes, always trying to control every element of a situation. But this is out of her jurisdiction, because the Bianchi’s have her at a disadvantage. We both know it.
“How? By offering yourself instead? What will that do? The family will have no leader. The Ricci name will disintegrate to nothing. I know you won’t allow that.”
A beat of silence. “He doesn’t want me. I tried. He’s always had a thing for you.”
“I hate him. I’ve always hated him.”
“I know, and that’s probably why he’s so determined to have you. You’re rebellious. Powerful men do not like to be told no. He’ll want to tame you.”
I’ll show him tame. I clench my fist, allowing my nails to cut into my palm. “I’ll go to him,” I say.
“No,” she snaps.
“You know he won’t stop. Just tell Sasha to let me go. If I can get close, I can kill him.” I close my eyes and I can picture Enrique’s smug face as I drive a blade through his throat.
“No, with the chain of succession—”
“Fuck your politics, Gabriella!” She never thinks of anything else.
“If we kill Enrique, they will probably kill us both in retribution! With Alberto as successor, it would have been fine, but with him dead…”
“Alberto is dead?”
“Sasha didn’t tell you? He killed him.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, stashing that bit of information for later. “It doesn’t matter. He has to die, and right now, I’m the only one who can get close. Just give Sasha the word.”
“Never. You will stay with Nero and Sasha until I can fix this.”
“Stop treating me like a child! You’re trying to keep me caged like some fragile bird. I am not your baby sister anymore, Gabriella.” She’s been doing this ever since Mama died when I was ten.
“I’m sorry, Lina. You’ll always be my baby sister, and I’ll protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”
“Gabriella!”
“I love you.”
She hangs up, and I want to scream in frustration. My life is not my own. Whether it was my father, or Enrique, or Gabriella, I have no say. Opening the door, I put the phone on one of the small side tables in the hallway. Even with the opportunity, I have no one to call. I have no one at all.
I go back into my room and lay down on the bed. My heart pounds against my ribs, and I want to tear open my own skin and crawl out of it. I’m confined, and the walls feel like they’re pressing in on me. Zeus whines, resting his head on my lap. He knows I’m completely alone in this world, maybe he feels it in the air, an aura of desperation and sadness. After a while, even he gets up and scratches at the door to be let out. I let him go and resume my position on the bed. The sun has only just set, but I close my eyes all the same. Life is easier when I’m asleep, mainly because I don’t have to actually live it.
My lungs strain and my heart pounds with every frantic step I race. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I need to get there now. The road before me is straight, but the walls on either side are closing in. Closer, closer until they threaten to crush me. I push my legs harder, sprinting toward a tiny glimmer of light ahead, but I’m not going to make it. A cry of desperation slips past my lips as I dive forward. Suddenly the walls and the road are gone, and I’m standing in the hallway of my family home. Confusion clings to me like a fog. My knees tremble, and my lungs heave for air, but I stumble forward and around the corner into the living room. My father sits on a chair, and next to him is my sister on another chair. Tears leak from her eyes, but her expression is impassive, and her hands rest casually on her thighs.
“Gabi.” I step forward.
“Run,” she whispers.
Something brushes over the back of my neck, and I’m paralyzed. I try to move my feet, but I’m frozen where I stand.
“Adelina Ricci,” a voice behind me says. It’s Enrique Bianchi, but I can’t bring myself to turn much less look. “So pretty. So wild.” Warm breath rushes over the side of my neck, and a shiver of revulsion works down my spine.
“You will not have her,” my father says, though his voice is wrong, flat.
“Oh, but I will.”
A gunshot rings in my ears, and Daddy’s head snaps back, hanging at an unnatural angle. And I swear, I hear every drop of blood as it splatters on the floor—an echo of crimson drops.
I don’t know if it’s me screaming or Gabi. But the horrible sound doesn’t stop when he kills Gabi, and it’s just me. Screaming, and screaming.
“Malyshka!”
I lurch awake, unable to breathe. My throat squeezes tight, and I choke on nothing. My chest heaves on heavy sobs, and it hurts, everything hurts. A hand lands on the back of my head before I’m pulled against a hard chest. I don’t fight it because I can’t. I’m powerless, ruined. The tears keep coming, as though my soul is purging all its sorrows in one ugly torrent.
Sasha’s hand lands on my back, and he strokes a hand over my hair. In his arms, I feel safe, even from my own despair. I missed him. Fisting handfuls of his shirt, I bury my face into the base of his throat. He always smells so clean like pine trees and mint.
“Adelina.” He presses a finger beneath my chin, tilting my head back. Those eyes that I once found so unsettling search mine. “It’s just a dream.”
“I know.” I sniff.
Warmth unfurls in my chest, and I hadn’t realized how lost I felt without him. It’s stupid. As though he instinctively knows what I need, he takes a seat on the bed and props his back to the headboard. He’s fully clothed, over the covers, but he’s here. I rest my cheek against his chest, and he wraps his arm around me.
“Enrique shot Gabi in my dream,” I mumble.
He inhales deeply, and I rise and fall with the action. “That will not happen.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No, I can’t.”
I’m glad he doesn’t lie to me. I’ve had enough of lies. “You didn’t tell me you killed Alberto.”
He’s silent, his chest hitching for the tiniest of beats.
“Gabi told me.”
“It was supposed to be Enrique. I made a mistake.” His heart beats hard and strong beneath my ear, but I hear the tiny skip.
I grip his shirt again, and I can sense his disappointment with himself.
“It will not happen again.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“I don’t.”
I sit up and face him. The dim light from the bedside lamp gives his pale skin an ashen tone.
“You’re human, Sasha.” His jaw tics, and I get the impression that he’s offended by the notion. “You’re human,” I repeat, reaching out and touching his face. My fingertips trail over the stubble on his jaw, committing every hard line to memory. A calloused palm slides over the back of my hand and traps it against his face.
“I cannot afford mistakes with you, malyshka.” With his free hand, he gently swipes a thumb beneath the dressing on my shoulder. “I failed to kill Enrique, and the death of his brother has made him retreat from my grasp. While he lives, he hunts you. I am sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. This was all set in motion a long time ago.”
His brows tug together. “Your father bartered you like a disposable trinket.”
A spike
of pain lances through my chest at the blunt truth in his words, but I can’t argue with the truth. Whether he intended to go through with it or not, Daddy made the agreement. I would never sell my child like that. Not for the first time, I question everything I ever knew about my father.
Sasha lifts his hand, swiping his thumb over the skin just below my dressing. “You are not disposable, malyshka,” he says, closing his eyes as though he’s just made a heinous confession.
I’m not sure whether it’s to himself or me.
Una’s words ring through my head. Bianchi wants you alive, but my brother is entirely disposable.
“We can’t keep doing this Sasha.”
His thumb stills on my shoulder, and I pull his face toward me. “You can’t stand between the Elite and me.”
“You’re wrong. That is exactly where I will stand.”
Frustrated tears prick my eyes, and tilt my head back, trying to fight them off. “You aren’t disposable, either.”
“I’m a soldier.”
“Not to me!” My voice comes out far more harshly than I intended. “You’re not just a soldier to me,” I whisper. “If you die…” I suck in a sharp breath. We were thrown together. I hated him, and now…now I can’t imagine not having him.
“I will not argue with you again—”
I grab his face in both hands and slam my lips over his. For a moment, we both freeze. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I need him to understand, to break out of that rigid mold and just…feel. I want him to feel what I do right now; that we are inexplicably bound somehow.
Slowly, he comes to life. His hands land on my waist, and I expect him to push me away, but instead, he pulls me closer. I fall forward and my body plasters to his.
For a moment we’re just two lonely people who need each other. Sasha is an island, living in eternal solitude. I’m lost, cast adrift in a stormy sea. In this moment he’s my haven, my refuge. He allows me in, cocoons me, saving us both.
Heat blossoms in my chest, and my stomach knots. I can’t get close enough to him. He’s tentative and careful until suddenly, he’s not. Fingers thread through my hair, and he wrenches my head back, demanding access, taking. My breath hitches, and the taste of him invades my mouth. His other hand grips my hip so hard, I can already feel bruises forming. I’m burning, and he just keeps stoking the flames, higher, higher... My legs part and my hips roll.
He freezes, a hiss slipping past his lips. One moment I’m on top of him, the next my back hits the mattress, and he’s on his feet. He stands next to the bed, his body rigid, fists balled as his chest rises and falls on strained breaths. One look at his face and I still, like prey caught in the sights of a predator. His eyes are feral and unhinged.
“Sasha?” My voice trembles.
He slams his eyes closed. “I…” He drops his chin to his chest and then turns and walks out of the room.
I don’t know what to do? I get up and hurry to the door, but he’s gone. The corridor outside my room is completely empty.
I don’t know what just happened.
16
Sasha
I stalk to my room, fighting the urge to drive my fist through a wall. I pride myself on control. And this… I stare down at the bulge in my pants. When I close my eyes, I can feel her body against mine, taste her on my tongue, smell that fresh lemon scent, the sweetness of her skin.
A groan slips between my gritted teeth as I consider the emotions she brings out that I’ve never felt before. I wanted to pin her to the wall and slip inside her… No. No, no, no. She is a job.
Stripping out of my clothes, I get into the shower, turning the temperature down until each drop feels like icy needles. My blood pounds through my veins like an unleashed animal. I reach for the control that has chained me my entire life, but it’s absent. In its place is this…this urge.
After several long minutes, I cut off the shower and get out. My dick is still rock hard. I’m not opposed to masturbation, but not like this. Not because I have no control. Not because she’s driven me to it.
Stalking back to the bedroom, I get in bed and turn off the light. I lay there for long moments, heart racing, body thrumming with pent up energy. I brush my hand over my stomach, and the simple skin-on-skin contact fires a jolt of electricity through me. I snap. On a growl, I fist my cock and stroke over it. And then I do something I’ve never done; I allow instinct to override discipline.
My mind drifts to Adelina. I picture her bare back, imagine touching her soft satin skin. I can hear the little sounds she makes when I kiss her. The way she feels, the way she tastes, it’s all ingrained in my mind. I imagine her small hand in place of my own, her touch so delicate, so perfect. My muscles tense and heat trickles down my spine. I remember the brush of her tongue, the feel of her hips rolling over me.
A groan slips past my lips, and pleasure tears over every inch of my skin. On and on it goes, until every single muscle is on the verge of cramping. And then I fall back against the mattress, panting, dark spots crossing my vision. I can’t even remember the last time I pleasured myself, but it’s never been like that.
Switching on the bedside lamp, I glance down in disgust at the mess that now covers my stomach. It’s only when I’m in the shower, washing the evidence from my body that I realize how much of a problem Adelina Ricci now presents.
A line has been crossed, and it can’t be undone. I have no plan, no clear path. I do not know what to do, and that, in itself, is alarming.
Days pass, and I’m on edge. I know something is coming, but I’m not sure what. I don’t see Adelina, and Una watches me like a hawk.
“One of us needs to go to Russia,” Una says.
On a sigh, I look away from the security plans that Nero and I are going over. “What for?”
“We need to ascertain movements around the Elite base. Numbers. Find out exactly who’s in charge.” That kind of recon will take weeks.
“Okay, so go.”
“You love going home.”
“Well, you can go this time.”
The tension in the room ratchets, and when I glance at Una, her head is tilted, eyes fixed on me. “You know why, Una.” I’m not having this argument with her again. Truthfully, I’m not sure I trust her with Adelina, and that troubles me. I have never not been able to trust Una.
Turning on her heal, she walks out of the room.
“Okay, what did you do?” Nero asks.
“What?”
He jerks his head toward the door Una just stormed through. “You’re telling me you can’t sense the ‘I will cut you’ vibes.”
On a sigh, I drag a hand over my face. “I don’t have time for it right now.”
“For Una? Or the threat the Elite now pose to us?”
“They’ve made no move, Nero. I don’t believe that threat is imminent. My priority right now—”
“Should be the family.” He raps his knuckles over the table in agitation. “You know Adelina was just an excuse for them to come after us. The two things must be…seperated.”
“So you would see her cast out and left for Bianchi?”
“No. Her father was a good man, and the Bianchi’s...well, they’ve always been pricks. I’d love to see you kill the boy.”
“But…”
“But now is not the time. You’re trying to fight a war on two fronts.”
“No, Una wants to start another war, and she wants me to stand beside her at any cost.”
His lips press together, and the charming businessman becomes the ruthless mafia boss in an instant. “Careful, Sasha. Is Adelina Ricci worth losing everything for?”
“Maybe.”
His serious mask cracks, and I frown when a devious smile appears on his lips. “Oh, you are in a world of trouble, my friend.”
“I don’t understand.”
He laughs. “I never thought I would see the day. You of all people.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Happens to the best of us.”
“What?”
<
br /> He walks out of the room, chuckling under his breath. “Gio! You have to hear this!”
“Nero!”
He ignores me and walks away.
Everyone in this house is going mad.
I stand in the middle of a clearing. I recognize it; the woods just outside the base. Pine trees surround us, their branches drooping under the weight off the snow. It’s utterly silent. No bird call, no animals. Just the perfect silence of fresh snowfall. I miss it, the peace, the absence of anything but the beat of my own heart, the inhale and exhale of my own breath. I close my eyes, tilting my face to the sky. A few flakes scatter over my skin, catching in my lashes.
When I open my eyes, five figures stand in front of me. Their forms are distorted, like looking through frosted glass. Slowly, they come into focus, and the first person I see is Adelina. She’s like sunshine in the depths of winter, with her tanned skin and eyes that remind me of the Mediterranean. A sad smile touches her lips, and I step forward. That’s when the other figures come into focus. All in black. All with weapons. A man moves behind Adelina, placing a blade to her throat. His face is shadowed by a hood, but the voice…I know that voice.
“Is she worth it?” he asks.
Her gaze meets mine, so pure, so innocent, so trusting.
“Is she worth it?” he repeats.
I don’t know. I can’t answer him. A twisted grin appears on his face, and then he slowly drags the blade over her throat.
“Adelina!”
In slow motion, her blood spills over the pristine snow. Her expression never changes. Everything in me breaks because she’s looking at me like I’ll save her, and I can’t. It’s too late.
I sit bolt upright, dragging ragged breaths into my lungs. Adelina. She’s all I can think about. She’s infecting my mind like a virus. I’ve had the same dream for the last few nights. I can’t change it, and I can never save her. I lay here, my heart pounding in my chest, attempting to steady my breaths. I don’t know how long I stare at the ceiling, but sleep evades me, the same way it has every night since we got here. Adelina, Adelina, Adelina. She’s like an alarm in my mind.
