Once the car is parked I unbuckle my seatbelt, turn slowly and open the door. Even though I’m still riddled with pain I must keep pushing forward. There simply isn’t another option. Plus, my mother didn’t raise me to be a weak woman. When she left my father it taught me that. Before she left I remember the conversation she had with me, how she told me I needed to be strong like steel, that no woman in our family had the option to be weak. The words she spoke were somehow molded as part of my DNA and I believe now I truly understand them.
I’m able to get out of the car although I do start to waver a bit. It takes every bit of strength within my body to keep me upright and not focus on the pain. My head hasn’t stopped pounding since last night, but what bothers me more than that is the slicing feeling of my clothing scraping against the wounds on my back. The physician stitched me up but he didn’t apply any sort of antibiotic or gauze. There’s a part of me that wonders if the man was even a doctor or if he was some sort of torture specialist that the Volkolv family hired. I’ve heard rumors of mafia family owning physicians. Not like they’re property, but the price they pay to keep them on their payroll and do whatever they need is essentially ownership. I suppose it doesn’t matter, at least I was patched up for the plane ride and could get out of Moscow as soon as possible.
A hand goes around my waist and I’m pulled close to somebody. Glancing to the right I see Desmond and wonder what he’s doing. His brows furrow for a moment and I purse my lips about to ask him when he speaks in a hushed whisper. “You and I will be having a private conversation in a few minutes. Although I think it’s best if we get the children inside and situated.”
The creaking sound of the front door opening causes me to look over to the right and I see a woman who must be in her fifties or sixties come walking up. “Mo—” Desmond starts off, and then clears his throat. “Maeve, could you please take the boys up to their bedroom on the second floor and get them situated?”
Aleksei smiles at the older woman and rushes over. My guess is he knows her too. Meanwhile Aleks looks to me with nervousness. As much as it kills me I bend down to his level and place a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. You are a strong wolf pup, the Volkolv blood runs through your veins. There is nothing to fear here.”
He still looks nervous, and Maeve slowly approaches us, kneeling down to his level. “I’ve just made some fresh sweets. Come Aleks, I think you and your brother would be great taste testers.”
Aleks looks to Maeve like he’s contemplating it, before whispering his question. “Do you have . . . cookies?”
“We call them biscuits here, but yes. Come along. Let’s leave your soon to be step-mother with Desmond for a bit. It seems they have much to discuss.”
I notice how Aleks’ expression changes to something almost anger-filled and his words come out in a rage, “She isn’t my step-mother. She is my momma.” My heart practically melts at what he’s said and I try my best not to let emotions overtake me.
Maeve is taken aback by his outburst but quickly recovers, smiling at him and nods. “My mistake. Come along now, I think they’ll get cold if we don’t get in there quickly.”
Yet still Aleks looks to me, “Aleks, go get some yummy treats.”
“But it’s before dinner . . . you always say no sweets before dinner.”
Aleksei groans in the background which causes me to chuckle. “Honey, this one time it’s okay. Eat all the sweets you want, but don’t eat too much. I don’t want you getting sick, and listen to Maeve,” I look past Aleks to Aleksei, “You too young man.”
Aleksei nods with his agreement while Aleks rushes over to his brother. Maeve goes off with them and before I know it the door is creaking closed again.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?” The driver asks Desmond.
“No, Callum. Thank you.” Desmond replies, keeping his arm planted on the side of my hip we walk away from the car door and he shuts it once I’m far enough away from it. After that the two of us head inside and I’m blown away by the craftsmanship that must be hundreds of years old.
“I’d take you to where you’ll be staying although I don’t think you should be going up the stairs in your current condition. Luckily, my father is in town for business so we can use his study. It’s this way.” Desmond leads me toward a door across from the stairwell that leads to the second floor and opens it. We both walk inside and he shuts it behind us.
He doesn’t speak at first while he walks me over to the armchair in front of his father’s massive wood desk, but when I’m seated he leans against the desk and crosses his arms. I think about the things that could be running through his mind right now. Wondering if he’s already pieced together what happened. I highly doubt it, but you never really know.
Desmond clears his throat yet again. I think he’s done it at least three times since we’ve met. “You can either tell me what happened or I’ll start figuring it out myself. Your choice.”
For a second I wonder if he knows. But I doubt it. “Are you trying to trick me?” I ask, my accent coming out thicker than it usually does. Over the last sixteen hours my entire world has completely turned upside down. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know what to say, and I certainly don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to fucking do.
Chapter Fourteen
If shit ain’t adding up, it’s because it’s not supposed to
~ Kyle Francis
Desmond
Her eyes darken with fear and I think about what could be overtaking that mind of hers. Sofia must be a naturally gorgeous woman, but the purple and blue bruises covering her skin shouldn’t be there. I keep my eyes pinned on hers although she’s quick to redirect them to the massive built-in cabinets in my father’s study. A study that not too long ago used to be our family library. His study was upstairs, but he’s getting older and running up the stairs numerous times every day wasn’t something he wanted to keep doing, so he moved to the main floor.
“I was told someone broke into your home. Is that true?” I have no problem whatsoever cutting to the chase.
She meets her eyes with mine once again and stares at me with fire in her spirit. “What does it look like?”
Immediately I can’t help but scoff at her attitude. No wonder Valentin liked her. She’s a Latina which means she isn’t weak. Sofia Ramirez is everything the Ice King would want. “I’m the one asking questions here, not you.” I state, rising from the desk I slowly approach the window and look out onto my family's land. Horses gallop in their pastures while newborns stick close to their mothers. Our life is as serene as it can be here, but I have a feeling it won’t be for long.
My family has just gotten over one war and we don’t need another coming to our doorstep so quickly. While it’s obvious Sofia is a beauty, I don’t think any woman is worth the trouble she’s undoubtedly bringing our way.
For fuck's sake, we just faked my mother's death to keep my father’s former business partner from trying to kill her again. She was shot in the chest and nearly died, however we were lucky enough to have her escorted to a private hospital that was discreet when we showed them just how much we’d be willing to pay.
My father is in town at this moment chatting with other friends who have problems with this fellow. Meanwhile, my mother is in our home, assuming another identity and will likely have to do so until the day she dies. She will be a prisoner in her own home, confined to the lands our family owns, never to be allowed in the public eye ever again. If you ask me, death would’ve been nicer than this. How is it even living? The short answer— it isn’t.
“Are you going to help me, or just stand here all high and mighty, questioning me as if I’m a threat to you?” Sofia is obviously pissed, but I don’t give a fuck. Everyone is a threat these days.
I turn around determinedly and stare at her with the darkest scowl I can muster up. My entire life has been turned upside down throughout the last few weeks. While the outside world thin
ks my family doesn’t have anything else to lose, we have so much to lose. I refuse to allow something else to happen again. Not when we need peace and quiet. Not when we need serenity and a break from the horrors of our daily lives. I place my hand firmly around her chin and squeeze. Not enough to hurt her, but so much so she understands I’m the one in charge here. “You pretty little girl. You have no idea you are a threat. Do you? Men like your father and Valentin have been planting people in other’s homes for years. You know why? It’s because they want to destroy the empire of their enemies.”
“I . . . I thought you two were friends. Valentin said you were best friends.”
“We’ve known one another since the day I was born, yes. Our fathers were close for a time and we are friends . . . but Sofia, you can’t be so naïve. There is no such thing as friends in our lifestyle. We only have enemies. Only, our enemies disguise themselves as friends. Let me ask you this. Do you honestly believe your impending union between Valentin is because your father likes the Russians?” I remain quiet for maybe a split second before I laugh, “The answer is no. Your father wants to avoid a war with the largest mafia family there is at this current time. He’s being smart by handing you off to the Russians . . . and yet in the time you’ve been there something horrific has happened that caused you and the boys to be thrown in the Mackenzies lap. Now, that has me curious, and allow me to be frank— I don’t think there was a break-in.”
“What do you think happened?” Sofia asks. I doubt she realizes how she just confirmed every thought I’ve had. There wasn’t a break-in and this is only a cover-up. Valentin told me whoever it was that hurt Sofia came in the house and avoided the cameras. There are only two options, trained professionals broke into his home and did as he said or he laid his hands on the woman he was supposed to love. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it’ll never be the last. The way he changed his story twice while we were on the phone gave me the answer I needed . . . and Sofia being the nervous little bird she is, confirms it.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. The only thing that matters is what happened. You almost died. I hope you realize how lucky you are.” I look at Sofia and remember Natalia almost having the same bruises covering her body.
How could a man who continues to call himself a friend do this to women he’s supposed to care for? Natalia was nothing but a whore for him, that was obvious. She was the type of woman he’d use until a proper marriage was arranged for him, but not Sofia. The sole Ramirez daughter is a prize, a fucking trophy. Yet he wanted to tarnish the perfect thing with his dirty fingerprints. Valentin doesn’t realize smearing the pain he did on her will never wash away.
I doubt she’ll admit what fully happened to me, but I’m not an idiot. Especially when this is Valentin’s typical behavior. “Take off your sweater. I need to take a look at those wounds.” Sofia’s eyes go wide at my words.
“I . . . uh, I don’t have any . . . undergarments on.”
“I’ve seen plenty of tits, Sofia. Just turn around so your front faces the back of the chair. I can work from behind, probably better for your back to be in the sunlight anyway. Just let me fetch the first aid kit in here.”
Sofia gives me a look but reluctantly nods. I won’t pressure her for more answers, but I believe she knows I see every lie they’ve tried to feed me for what it is. While I won’t question her today, it doesn’t mean I won’t tomorrow.
Chapter Fifteen
Today is not the day to fall apart
~ Unknown
Sofia
I do as he asks and remove my sweater, but hold it against my chest and attempt to shield myself from his eyes in whatever way I can. Silence fills the air and I hear him suck in a sharp breath from behind me. No doubt he believes I was attacked by Jack the Ripper. I took one glance at my back using a handheld mirror back in Moscow, holding it above my eyes so I could see our bathroom mirror. To say I cringed at the site would’ve been a drastic understatement.
The sound of a zipper being pulled makes me assume he’s opening the first aid bag, but I have to ask. “Is that the first aid bag?” I question.
“No, it’s my father’s emergency medical bag. You’re far past first aid if you ask me.”
I contemplate what sort of response I can give him, although I decide to stay quiet. He must be shuffling around in the bag because I hear things clinking together, making me assume his father has instruments. Crinkling paper is something else I continue to hear. Moments continue to pass us by when pills inside a bottle hit my ears. “If those are painkillers please put them away.”
“Why?” Desmond questions in his authoritative tone.
“Because I don’t want them.” I state, making my decision clear.
Desmond must be flipping the bottle back and forth from hand to hand because the noise only grows. It makes me feel like he’s playing mind games. “Why would a woman like you choose to be in pain versus having some sort of relief?”
I keep my eyes straight in front of me, looking at the aged spines of the books that grace his father’s shelves and think about the question Desmond has just asked me. I could be honest with him and tell him how Valentin is an unpredictable monster, however I won’t. If I’ve learned anything over the last day it’s how I need to be cautious, but more than that, I need to be dis-trusting. Not forever, but at least for a while. “The pain reminds me I’m alive,” I growl back in response. Hopefully my tone is enough to tell him I’m at my limit.
“This is going to hurt, so I’d prefer you take something.”
Holding my sweater to my chest so my breasts aren’t on display I turn back to Desmond, staring into his eyes. “You have no idea what I endured. If I can go through all of that without pain killers I assure you, Desmond Mackenzie, I can handle getting a few stitches.” I return to the previous position I was in before and scoot closer against the back of the chair, planting my hands on the sides and clench with all my strength. This is going to hurt like a bitch, but it’s best to get it over with now.
Desmond’s footsteps cause me to look over to the right and I see him heading toward the door. “Where are you going!? Aren’t you going to stitch me up?”
He looks back to me and scoffs, “If you’re so determined to go without medication and be an infuriatingly difficult woman I’m fetching Maeve. She has a steadier hand than I.” Desmond doesn’t wait for a response but opens the door, walks on the other side and shuts it behind him.
I breathe in and out slowly and for the first time since the incident emotion starts to swarm through my body. I’ve been so determined to keep my feelings in check. Not only that, but to be a strong woman . . . and while I am . . . I know that letting emotions overcome you is a form of strength. In all of history every powerful woman has let her feelings of anger or hurt absorb her for even the slightest of moments.
I’m angry, so very angry at Valentin for resorting to drugs and destroying everything we could’ve been. I wonder if he knew what he was losing when he started to use. If he realized he’d lose me forever. I wonder if he ever thought this was a possibility, for him to hallucinate I was his ex in a blind rage and beat me to within inches of my life.
I doubt he did.
I doubt he even thought at all.
When he and his father came to Mexico I was terrified. I was so afraid of what my future would’ve been. At the time I thought of things like what I went through yesterday. I only thought of pain, horrors and torment . . . but what ended up happening was beautiful. I fell for a man who seemed genuine, caring and kind. While he has his faults I fell in love with him regardless of them. After all, we’re human. Not one person on this planet is perfect.
I knew his nickname was the Ice King . . . but I was foolish enough to think he wouldn’t be so cold toward me. The joke is on me I suppose. I should’ve known better.
Saltiness floats over my lips and I realize I’ve been crying. Wiping my hand over my face I remove my tears and the door to the study comes open. Maeve return
s and notices my small breakdown. She’s quick to shut the door and rushes over to me.
“W-where are the b-boys?” I ask, trying to quickly recover.
“Desmond took them out to see the horses. Aleksei rode his first horse when he was here last year and that mare had a babe not too long ago.”
“Oh good,” I mutter lowly, avoiding the older woman’s eye contact. I can feel her eyes on me and it makes me feel like ants are crawling all over my body.
“Valentin did this. Didn’t he?” My eyes go wide at what she says and I look up to her without saying a word. “He had a couple of outbursts with his first wife, lass. You aren’t the first and I can assure you . . . you won’t be the last. Oh how I wish Valentin didn’t slowly turn into his father. I suppose when you’re around that sort of evil you can’t help it.”
“I didn’t confirm your assumption.” I snarl out, hating how much she’s digging for information.
“You didn’t have to.” Maeve shoots back, walking behind me.
Out of nowhere freezing liquid hits my back and a burning sensation courses through my back. I clench the chair with all my might and curse under my breath, turning my neck to the older woman. “A little warning would’ve been nice,” I hiss.
“I don’t feel the need to warn disrespectful young women like yourself. My son is two years younger than you and he would never speak to me in such a way.” Wow. Desmond looked older . . . I suppose facial hair does that to men though, gives them the illusion of looking older.
“I apologize, I’m . . . just trying to process everything.”
“I imagine you are, but best remember your manners. Although, if you’re open to advice, remember the power in those Ramirez veins of yours. You aren’t a damsel in distress, poppet. You’re just as powerful as the man you stand beside, even if they don’t see it. I think all of our enemies figure that we’re defenseless little breeders.”
Deceptive Love: A Dark Mafia Duet (Mackenzie & Volkolv Book 1) Page 7
