“Get off me!” she screamed, trying to get free.
He gripped onto her arms tighter. “I thought you’d learned your lesson from what I did to you earlier, but I obviously underestimated how stupid you are.”
She continued to struggle. “No, sei tu lo stupido, brutto essere violento di merda,” she cursed in Italian. “Spero che ti cada il cazzo e che le palle ti diventino due chicchi d'uva, perché ho finito di aiutarti!”
“Say that in English, pussy.”
“I said that I’m done with helping you if you don’t let me go!” she lied.
“Then how come I heard you say, ‘No, you’re the stupid one, you violent piece of shit. I hope your dick falls off and your balls swivel to raisins, because I’m done with helping you.’”
She froze, not having realized he spoke Italian.
He leaned his face down to hers, his expression cold. “Did I translate everything correctly, stronza?”
“I... You weren’t supposed to understand!”
“The fact I knew what stronzo meant should’ve alerted you to the possibility.”
“I know spasibo means thank you, but I don’t speak Russian,” she spluttered. “And why did you speak to me in English if you knew my language?”
“You spoke it to me so I replied in kind, and you should never let an enemy know everything about you.”
“I’m not your enemy.”
“Da, you are. Not only that, you need to be punished for insulting me.”
“No, I don’t!” she yelled, her panic rising again. “You insult me all the time.”
“The difference is I can snap your neck. Have you ever heard what breaking a neck sounds like?”
She didn’t reply, unable to, his words petrifying her.
He placed a hand around her throat, causing her to inhale sharply. “It sounds like any other break; the only difference is the person doesn’t scream.”
She screwed up her face, praying this wasn’t the end. “Please stop it,” she sobbed out.
He squeezed her neck. Her hands went to his, clawing at them, desperately trying to save herself. He slackened his grip, but didn’t let go, his harsh stare still boring into her. She started sobbing uncontrollably, unable to handle what he was doing, everything becoming too much. She was a good person, she didn’t deserve this. She’d only been helping him, attempting to make things right.
Still holding her neck, he let go of her arm and wiped her wet cheeks. She flinched, his gentle touch unexpected as well as confusing. He was threatening her with one hand, while trying to calm her down with the other. He was a paradox she couldn’t figure out, a Janus with two different faces.
He lowered his head, until their noses were almost touching. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t, his intense stare holding her hostage. He wet his lips, looking like he was going to kiss her, but didn’t make a move to. Instead, he started talking, his voice sounding as though it was disconnected from his body.
“Your eyes are so bright I can almost see your soul shining behind them. That’s why the color diminishes when someone dies. Their soul leaves their body. Maybe that’s also why my eyes are so gray. They lack color because I lack a soul.” He let go of her throat and brushed more tears away. “Despite who your family are, who you are, I don’t want to see the brightness in your eyes die.” He placed his lips next to her ear. “So, don’t antagonize me again, because you can only push a ghoul so far before he drags you down to Hell.” Pushing off her, he shoved her onto the floor and climbed back onto the bed.
She jumped to her feet and rushed over to her corner. Slumping to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her legs, trembling uncontrollably.
He grimaced. “That’s the first wise thing you’ve done—keep your distance from me.” He continued to look at her, making Andriena duck her head. “You’re weak,” he spat, his voice full of disdain.
She wanted to snap back, but for once kept her mouth shut, her fear overriding everything.
“I bet you’re thinking you’re weaker than me because you’re a woman,” he said, reading her mind. “But you’re wrong. I know women who can take men down in the blink of an eye. The Black Viper sisterhood wouldn’t run from me like a scared little girl. Unlike you, they didn’t waste their time fantasizing about white knights rescuing them. They learned how to defend themselves, becoming their own heroes.”
She remained silent, the man again reading her mind.
He continued, “If anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if you thought I could’ve been your white knight before I attacked you. But hear this, Andriena, no one will save you. Not your sister or Jagger, and especially not me. Only you can save yourself. It’s dog eat dog in the Black Russian’s palace. Learn that fast and you might survive a few more days—unless you touch me again.”
Andriena buried her face in her knees, the man a living nightmare.
5
SASHA
The door opened to the cell. Sasha shot out of bed, prepared for a fight, his nerves raw. Andriena’s crying had kept him awake all night, making him feel guilty for losing his temper with her. Though, in his defense, she was the most irritating women he’d ever met. Her naivety was beyond belief, while her incessant talking made him want to suffocate her, the woman having the worse case of verbal diarrhea he’d ever come across. And not to forget she was fucking stupid, her brain the size of a gnat.
Two guards entered the room with their guns raised. Nikita followed. His long white hair was hanging loose again, giving him an ethereal look. “If you attack us, Sasha,” he said, “Andriena will be shot.”
“Shoot her for all I care,” Sasha replied.
One of the guards aimed his gun at Andriena. Crying out, she scrambled to her feet, covering her face with her arms.
“Do you still want her shot, Sasha?” Nikita asked.
“No,” Sasha exhaled, meaning what he’d said to her. He didn’t want to see the light go out in her eyes. Though, only God knew why, because she was fucking annoying.
“Good, because we have food for you, so don’t cause us any trouble.”
Sasha gaze shot to the door as two serving staff entered the room, bringing exquisite smells with them. One was holding a carafe of wine, while the other was carrying a tray with two plates. His stomach grumbled at the sight of his favorite food: Beef Stroganoff and syrniki, the latter ricotta pancakes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten properly, if at all.
The servants placed the food and wine on the table, then scurried out of the room, both of them appearing afraid of him. Nikita remained where he was, his beautiful face fearless. “You may share the wine with the woman, but not the food.”
“I haven’t eaten in days,” Sasha replied. “If I eat all of that, I’ll be sick. She can have what I don’t want.”
“No. Either you eat it all or she does, no in between. And if you break the rule, you both won’t be fed for a week.”
“I’m getting out today,” Andriena mumbled. “So, it won’t apply to me.”
Nikita turned his pale gaze on her. “That’s not happening now.”
Andriena went stiff. “What?”
“Jagger’s refusing to agree to everything the Black Russian wants, so as a punishment you’re being held until he capitulates. And if he continues to deny my master, things will go back to the way they were before Sasha arrived.”
“No! My sister wouldn’t allow that.”
“Your sister isn’t the one negotiating, and what the Black Russian wants Jagger to do would fuck with anyone’s head, so don’t be shocked if he chooses to say no. Regardless, he has one week to change his mind.”
Nikita moved his attention back to Sasha. “Enjoy your food, brother.”
Seconds later he was gone, the other guards following him out of the cell. Andriena burst into tears as the door closed behind them, the woman crumbling in upon herself.
“Jagger won’t allow you to be butchered,” Sasha said, taking no satisfaction in being right.
&
nbsp; She dropped her hands and looked up at him, her brilliant blue eyes shining bright with tears. “You think so?” she asked softly.
He willed himself to nod. He didn’t feel comfortable with lying, but he couldn’t cope with anymore of her crying, the woman wearing him down.
She wiped her eyes and gave him a sweet smile he didn’t deserve, especially after the way he’d treated her. He didn’t understand how she could so easily forgive him. It was as though he hadn’t assaulted her. For a moment, he wondered whether she wasn’t just stupid, but mentally impaired. Or maybe he just hadn’t met anyone who was as kind as her, because, despite her infuriating personality, she was kind, her offer to pay for his freedom unexpected. His mind went to his baby brother, who’d also been kind. And like Andriena, Yuri had been weak, often needing Sasha to protect him from predators. But now Sasha was the predator, threatening Andriena when he should’ve been helping her.
“Eat,” he said, wanting to make up for what he’d done. His brother wouldn’t have treated the woman poorly because of her family, if anything, Yuri probably would’ve forgiven the man who’d shot him. Sasha glanced up at the ceiling, wondering whether Yuri was watching over him, because he was definitely in Heaven, his brother now an angel.
Andriena wiped her eyes. “What did you say?”
He looked back at her. “You can have my food,” he said, his thoughts about Yuri making it hard to breathe.
“Why are you giving me your food?” Andriena asked, looking surprised. “You hate me.”
No, I hate myself. “I shouldn’t have treated you so cruelly yesterday. I’ve also been a bastard to you since I regained consciousness. Take this as a peace offering.”
She remained in her corner, looking taken aback.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
She nodded.
“Then, why aren’t you eating?”
“I don’t feel right taking your food.”
“Then it’ll go to waste, because I won’t touch it. So, either eat it or go hungry, it’s your choice.” He lay down on the bed and turned over. His stomach was already protesting his decision, the rich smell of the Beef Stroganoff causing it to grumble loudly.
A minute or two later, the sound of soft footfalls reached his ears. Andriena sat down at the table and started eating his food. He pressed his ear against the mattress and covered his other one, wishing he was anywhere but here.
***
“Sasha, Sasha, wake up.”
He opened his eyes and looked up at his mother’s panicked face. “You have to leave, your father’s coming.”
Terror raced through Sasha, the need to get away all consuming. He scrambled out of bed, spotting his nanny helping his baby brother pull on a jacket. Yuri’s young face was petrified. He was nine while Sasha had just turned twelve, the both of them looking like their mother.
Sasha grabbed his jacket and went for the large bookshelf in their room, pressing the button for the escape passageway. The bookshelf split down the middle, parting like sliding doors. Yuri shot passed him with a torch, disappearing down the thin passageway. Sasha followed his brother through the opening, stopping at the sound of a man’s booming voice. It was coming from the corridor, growing louder by the second. Sasha turned back, waiting for his mother, but instead of following him, she rushed for his bedroom door with his nanny.
“Go, baby,” she said. “I’ll meet up with you later.”
Sasha hesitated, not wanting to leave her behind.
She pressed her back against the door, screaming, “Go!”
He hit the button, watching her and his nanny labor to keep the door shut, despite it being locked. The bookshelf closed just as a loud bang came from his room. Terrified for his mother, he placed an eye to the spy hole. His mother and nanny staggered back from the door, which had flung open, revealing a tall man dressed in a long black cloak. He also had a hood over his head, reminding Sasha of the Grim Reaper, his face hidden from sight.
Sasha’s father stepped into the room. “Where are my sons, Marina?” he asked, his voice sounding disembodied.
Two men followed him in, wearing identical black cloaks. One removed a gun from his pocket and aimed it at Sasha’s mother. Sasha clamped a hand over his mouth to stop from shouting out.
Appearing unconcerned, his mother stepped closer to Sasha’s father. “You won’t have me killed, Nikolai. You still love me.” Smiling wickedly at him, she ran her hand down his body, slipping it between the folds of his cloak.
He grabbed her wrist, making her cry out. “Your seductions won’t work on me,” he spat, flinging her hand away from him.
Looking in pain, she grabbed her wrist and backed up, stumbling as he advanced on her. Sasha’s nanny pushed in between them, attempting to protect his mother, but got shoved aside. His father continued to advance on his mother until she was flush up against the bookshelf. He lowered his head to her, his cape still hiding his face.
“Where. Are. My. Sons?” he growled, his voice deep and threatening.
“You’re not getting them, you lunatic.”
“Says the woman who murders her husbands.”
“It’s called divorce.”
“Divorce is signing a piece of paper, not sticking a knife in a man’s back or lacing his wine with poison. It’s a good thing I decided to divorce you instead, cyka.”
“I wouldn’t have killed you.”
Sasha’s father cocked his head to the side. “What makes me so special?”
“You’re an invincible bastard. And if I did kill you, you’ll climb right back out of Hell and drag me down with you.”
“How about I send you there now? Unless you give me my sons.” He removed a knife from his cloak and placed it to her throat. “So, what will it be, Marina? My sons or your life?”
“It’s too late,’ she said, her voice breaking. “I couldn’t give them to you even if I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“I sent them to my brother,” she lied, although Sasha knew she was going to. Yuri was probably waiting in the car for him, getting ready to leave.
Sasha’s father lowered the knife, his voice sounding upset, “You choose to send them to that evil bastard instead of giving them to me?”
“Because he’ll protect them from you.”
“And who’ll protect them from him?”
***
Something pressed against his back. Sasha opened his eyes, realizing he’d fallen asleep. He glanced over his shoulder, finding Andriena lying behind him. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
He shot off the bed and jumped to his feet. “What the hell are you doing?!”
She patted the mattress. “Lie back down,” she slurred.
His gaze went to the carafe, which was empty. “You drank the lot?”
“It tasted so good.” She patted the mattress again. “Hurry up, I want to hug you, you’re warm.”
“No fucking way, woman, so get off the damn bed and go back to your corner. You had my food and wine, you could at least let me sleep.”
She shook her head. “Nine-hundreds of the law.”
“It’s nine-tenths and, again, get off the bed.”
“Nope, it’s mine now. I have it, and if you want to use it too, lie next to me.” She held out a hand. “Come on, I’ll warm you up like I did when you first came.” She laughed, hiccupping at the end. “Not came came, I meant when you got here.” She hiccupped again. “Though, if you want me to make you come, I will.” She pointed at his crotch. “You’re hard again. You’re always hard. You must like us Donatelli devils.”
He covered his crotch. “I don’t like you, and you’re drunk.”
“Sì. I’m very, very drunk.” She giggled. “And you do like me, otherwise you wouldn’t have given me your food.” She held out her hand again. “So, come here and give me cuddles. Despite you being a grumpy bum, I like your body. It’s hot.”
“No, and don’t ask again.” He moved to the closest corner and sat down, an
gry with her.
She laughed. “You look cute when you pout. Do you know some of your swelling has gone down? You’re starting to look very handsome.”
“You’re a terrible drunk.”
She hiccupped. “And you’re a bad boy.” She patted the bed. “So, come here or I’ll smack your culo.”
He sneered at her. “Try it, cyka, and see whose ass gets smacked.”
She pushed off the bed and wobbled over to him, making him rise to his feet. “You need to lighten up, you’re always grouchy,” she said, waving a finger in his face.
“I’m in a fucking cell. How do you expect me to act?”
She shrugged, then gave him a big smile.
He grimaced back.
“You would look so much nicer if you smiled.”
“You would look nicer if you were on the opposite side of the room, facing the wall.”
“How about you face the wall? You wouldn’t have to look at me, then.” When he didn’t move, she indicated with her finger for him to turn around. “Go on.”
“No.”
“I won’t bug you anymore if you do.”
“How about you don’t bug me anyway?”
“Nope! You have to do this one itsy-bitsy thing for me, then I promise on my Uncle Christo’s grave that I’ll leave you all alone.”
Exhaling, he turned around, willing to do anything to get rid of the annoying woman. A smack landed on his ass, making him yell out in surprise. He spun around, finding Andriena laughing so hard she was wobbling all over the place.
“Look who’s gullible now!” she hooted.
“You swore on your uncle’s grave,” he snapped.
“My evil uncle doesn’t have a grave, he was blown,” she imitated a bomb sound, “to smithereens.” She twirled her finger. “Turn around again; I want to smack your culo more. This time I’ll promise on my grave. You’re so gullible you’ll believe it.” She burst out laughing again, looking unsteady on her feet. A second later, her legs went out from under her, Andriena landing on her ass. She continued laughing, the alcohol cushioning the blow.
“You’re a god-awful drunk,” he growled.
“I am!”
She started crawling to the bed on her hands and knees. He followed her, tempted to smack her ass too, but refraining, the woman probably too drunk to feel it.
Sasha & Andriena #1 (Lovers & Sinners) Page 5
