I didn’t care if my men saw it as a moment of weakness while I put as much pressure as I could manage on that bleeding hole in her side and silently begged repeatedly for her not to die. My distress was plain on my face. As soon as I lost her, I would lose everything.
In a way, I was incredibly selfish by wishing for her to live. She had been shot and left for dead by a monster who had been holding her for eight years. Her suffering deserved an ending, and death would at least accomplish that. My intentions for wanting her to live had much less to do with feelings for her or her pretty face. Though, those things only helped to serve my determination for this purpose to keep her alive.
I needed her alive, so I could prove my claim to the Vasile throne. I was man enough to admit just what I needed her for. If she were awake right now, I would make that clear to her face. I had vowed the moment I saw her, half dead on that floor, that I would never lie to her. She’d experienced enough pain and disappointment through her entire life, especially over the past few years. I wasn’t going to give her a reason to be disappointed in me, but I would also not give her false hope of something more than what we were always meant to be. That wasn’t the way I wanted it to be. She was a great woman proven by her blood alone. And if she was anything like her parents, she deserved the best she could get from me, which was exactly why my family and I had been the ones trusted with the Vasile legacy to begin with. We were strong, and we were some of the most honest criminals in the business if there could be such a thing.
I looked down Ana bleeding in my lap; I wonder if she even still went by that. It was interesting to see how she had aged. I had not seen her since we were both children, but I knew even then how beautiful she would be with her chocolate eyes and long blonde hair. She had this innocent air about her, and it hadn’t gone away from her youth. She was one of those that would make you pledge to do anything for her because she looked so delicate and sweet, but her name meant it was not so simple.
I wondered as I looked at the lines creasing her face and her thin and hurt body, bruised from the abuse, if the girl I knew was still in there somewhere or if everything good about her had been ripped away by her captors.
The last time I saw her I was nine years old; old enough to understand what a wife was and that she would be mine. Though, I had not yet had my first crush on a girl yet. We had actually been visiting her family in Romania, and our fathers were having dinner tougher. Her spirit was so strong; it radiated through everything she did or said. Even at seven years old, it was hard not to get a sense for who she would turn out to be; in an ideal world, that is.
My memory of that day came back to me as if it was yesterday, a movie playing in my head. I had been watching her most of the day as she tried to show me around the house with her limited vocabulary. There was an excitement in her to see me. I got the feeling she didn’t have many playmates. So, I silently went along with her, letting her show me everything she had. Some of her most prized possessions were her toys that resembled weapons, and she even took me into her father’s trophy room of sorts, trying to tell me some of the stories behind the swords and other things he had on display, as if from memory. There was no doubt that she was a Vasile. She was sweet and beautiful. And spoiled rotten.
At some point, we had gone running around outside, and Mariana had heard some desperate meowing. She followed it behind a bush to see a stray cat, its gray and black hair all mangled from a fight. It was injured pretty badly, including a broken leg. She was instantly concerned about it and started crying. I followed behind her as she ran inside, interrupting the dinner to get her mother and father to come and see if they could help it. I was surprised that they obliged her.
She looked at it with concern and horror as they tried to get a good look at its injuries and wrap the leg. The cat was in such distress that it sent Mariana into a panic. I reached over and grabbed her hand and held it. She instantly squeezed back. It already felt, even at such a young age, that she was mine. I held that little hand for the rest of the night, and I felt like a really empty little boy when I had to let it go.
What struck me so much about her was how she had empathized with everyone around her, even animals. As I got older and held that memory close to me, it made me think of how she would be with our children; the heirs we create together. The Vasile children, my children, would be in good hands.
I hadn’t seen her in years, and as we pulled up to the hospital, I realized how much could change in two decades. My feelings for her and my strength in the clan had morphed into something I never thought possible, watching how strong and valiant my father was when he was leading it.
The thought of that little girl, the one that had belonged to me since the day she was born, having to endure all these awful things from Jonas, made me furious.
I watched the emergency nurses come out with a gurney and load her onto it. I flashed my cash at everyone that saw her. They were discrete, letting as few people as possible get a look at her as they wheeled her into the operating room. I sent one of my men to pay off the surgeon as well. There would be no discussion and no investigation. They would make up whatever story they needed as to not reveal her identity or mine. I pulled out my phone as I headed for the waiting room and let my men know they were to have her guarded around the clock before I decided to take care of much-needed business.
Jonas was going to pay for holding onto my most prized possession, for trying to snuff the life out of the last remaining Vasile. My men would find Jonas, wherever he had slithered off to, and god help the devil when he was found.
Everyone knew about the arrangement, even Jonas. Though he was not of the original thirteen clans, Jonas had come to some of the meetings over the years. In fact, I had seen him about a year ago. I felt like I should have noticed something in his behavior that let onto the fact that he was the one who took her. Maybe the shooting could have been prevented. Wasted years could have been prevented.
Well, Mariana would be where she was supposed to now. With me. She would be in my house, in my bed as soon as she was able, making up for the time we had lost.
I began to call everyone I had ever worked with as well as the clan leaders I believed I could trust to help me in this endeavor. Everyone was going to have their eyes peeled for Jonas Masterson. They were to deliver him alive.
His death was mine.
Revenge was mine.
Mariana is mine.
The next phone call I made was to my family, to let them know I had found Mariana and to have them begin the preparations for our wedding. It was going to be extravagant; fit for a king and queen. She was going to wake up from her surgery to a whole new life by my side, and it was going, beginning with, a bang.
CHAPTER 6
Mariana
I woke up and blinked my eyes open, instantly knowing that I wasn't dead. How could I be so sure? My side, where the bullet had gone in, hurt like hell, and I could hear the incessant beeping of machines.
It took me a moment to realize, but I was in the hospital.
For a split second, I wondered who had found me and brought me to the hospital on time. Then, I saw, to my surprise, that I wasn't alone in the room. There was a man in the room, sitting across from the bed. Our eyes locked, and I assumed, by the look of him, he was one of Jonas' men that I hadn’t met yet. My brain started moving, though slow, as I thought of how I might get out of this. Maybe I could just confide in one of the nurses before Jonas came back. But then my thoughts went to Bianca.
If Jonas had brought me to the hospital, it meant he had changed his mind. It meant that he didn’t want me to be hurt. If he would have me back, I could be reunited with Bianca again. That had to my priority. I couldn’t imagine what she had been going through without me.
The man was tapping away on his phone, possibly texting Jonas or just playing around on it. Who knew how many hours he had been ordered to sit here with me.
“Where is Bianca?” I asked him, warranting a strange look fro
m him. Maybe he didn’t understand English. That was certainly a possibility. I’d have to make use of my Romanian.
“Unde este Bianca?” I asked again, hoping that would get me the answer I was looking for. The man stood up and took a few steps towards me, acting as though he understood this time.
“Bianca?” he asked.
I nodded a yes. So, I had been right about the language barrier. His accent was so thick I wondered how long he had been out of Romania.
“Care esta Bianca?” he asked. He was asking me who Bianca was. That made me feel uneasy. If he had been one of Jonas’ men, he would have known who Bianca was, especially now that Jonas had shown interest and taken her.
I felt like I was being backed into another corner. I wanted my daughter. I had to know she was safe.
“Unde este al naibii de fiica mea?!” I yelled at him, the man looked frightened a bit by my outburst and instantly grabbed his phone again, typing at 90 miles an hour. I didn’t know who he was trying to reach, but my panic was reaching a point of no return.
Before I could think of what else to do or say, I got a glimpse of my wrist, one that was black with bruises from Jonas before he shot me. Now, it was smooth and tan, almost completely free of any marks. I turned back to the man that had been watching me, babysitting me.
“How long have I been here? De cat timp am fost aici?” He didn’t have the time to answer because the door opened to reveal yet another man coming into my room.
“Lasa-ne,” the man said, dismissing the guard. I got the feeling, just from the air he had about him that this man was the one in charge or at least the one in charge of the guard. I noted the way he walked, his muscular body, and his green eyes. There was something strangely familiar about him, but I just couldn’t think of what. I looked him up and down, trying to get a read on him before asking my question again.
“De cat timp am fost aici?” I didn’t know what languages he spoke. He looked more American to me, but I used Romanian just in case.
“A week and a half,” he answered in perfect English with no accent. He was American, though he understood the language. Wait, a week and a half? Had Bianca been alone with Jonas and his men for a week and a half? I tried to get out of bed, but this man was on me, holding me to the bed before I could even scream from the pain of the movement.
I knocked his hands off of me, probably thrashing a little harder than I should with my injury. “I don’t appreciate strangers putting their hands on me,” I spat angrily. After what I had been through with Jonas, I didn’t feel like any other man getting grabby, no matter the reasoning.
The man laughed, and I glared at him for a moment, but I realized his laugh was not a sinister one. “I’m a little offended you don’t remember me,” he said in a teasing tone. I looked him up and down again, noting his tailored black suit and down to his leather shoes. I would have remembered a man like him. I had never met him. Could he have been friends with Jonas?
“C’mon, Ana,” he said, my childhood nickname rolling off his tongue. It was something my father used to call me, and it pulled at my heart strings to hear it. He had to be someone who my parents knew.
Another man came into the room, addressing him. “Mr. Petran,” the man said with a respectful bow of his head. That name made it click. I knew who he was now.
My mouth dropped open in shock. I couldn’t help it. This was something I could never have hoped for or expected.
“Ion?” I whispered. I hadn’t seen him since I was a young child, but now the dark hair and green eyes clicked. My betrothed had saved me, finally. It was like some real-life prince and princess shit; only it had taken him a bit too long for my taste. Why did he come now, after all this time? There was a chance he had a hard time finding me, but shouldn’t he have given up at some point?
Knowing he was the one who was with me gave me solace, but I was not naïve enough to think it was all rainbows, especially with my daughter still out there. Seeing his face now, just gave me more questions. I supposed the answers would have to come in time. The only one that mattered right now was the first one I asked about when I woke up.
Where was Bianca?
CHAPTER 7
Mariana
The car ride to Manhattan had been a silent one. Ion and I had hardly said a word to each other, but what was I supposed to say? I didn’t know where, to begin, with all my questions, and I had been trying to find the right words. I thought I probably owed him a thank you, but I also had Bianca on my mind. I was lost without her by my side. Maybe that was why I was at such a loss for words, even as I saw where I was going to be living now.
Nothing could hold a candle to the ritzy high-rise that Ion called home. It towered into the sky in the richest part of the city, overlooking everything like a king. It was a bit laughable, though I didn’t dare even let out a giggle. The pain was still there, even though I had been cleared to go home and rest.
Ion had warned me we would be in the penthouse, but as long as there was an elevator, it wouldn’t be so bad. I had gotten used to living in that dump with Jonas. I could get used to a nice place, even if being up so high did feel like a bit of a trap when I thought about it.
Ion opened my car door for me, and I worked my way out slowly, headed for the steps that led up to the lobby entrance. Just as my foot landed on the bottom step, I felt an arm come around me and instantly jumped. I guess somewhere inside of me; I was still expecting Jonas to show up and hurt me again. It was hard to think about anyone touching me again just yet.
“Relax, Ana. It’s just me. I’m just helping you get inside; I know you’re still hurting,” Ion assured me in that silky-smooth voice of his. It made me calm but also cautious at the same time. Trusting was going to be hard, even if this was the man my father had chosen for me to be with. I don’t believe I’d ever trust another man again, how could I after enduring so much for so long? Granted, I know that not all men are like Jonas Masterson, but please, tell that to the girl with the emotional and physical scars.
I let him help me, trying to remain calm at his touch. His hand never wandered, though, and he let go the moment we were in the elevator and headed up to his apartment. As we rode up several floors, I finally turned to him, feeling the emotional pain much stronger than the physical.
“I need you to find my daughter,” I said simply, my eyes begging him as his green ones turned towards me. “I know she isn’t yours, but without her, my life is nothing. I have no reason to live without her. Please. She is the only family I have left now.” I watched, assessing his features for something, anything that would give me a clue what he’s thinking, but he didn’t speak.
Not a peep from him.
The elevator stopped with an incessant ding, letting me know that we were now on the right floor. Ion nodded and gently led me to his door. It was an ugly burnt orange. All that money and he couldn’t even choose an appealing paint color.
“I can see she means a lot to you, and she is a Vasile regardless. Why don’t we sit down, and you recount what happened before we arrived and found you at Jonas’ place? Perhaps there might be an indication of where Jonas has taken your daughter,” Ion offered. It was a better answer than I thought I would get from him, but I didn’t think there would be any signs of where Jonas went from what I had to tell. The one thing Ion had already relayed to me is that they had been looking for me the whole time and found not even a clue as to my whereabouts or who had me, even as Jonas continued to show up randomly at the meetings of the clans. Jonas knew what he was doing.
I went through every single gory detail anyway. I didn’t leave anything out; the insults, his hesitation, or that evil laughter which was the last thing I heard. Ion informed me that I had been somehow taken back up the stairs and left in the back of the building.
Once Ion realized there was nothing to glean from what I could remember, the conversation took a turn. “What is Bianca like?” Ion asked, sounding like he might be trying to get to know me. I was taken aback by it
but happy for the subject. I missed her so much.
“Bianca is a miniature version of myself other than the dark, dark eyes which look more like Jonas’. But she is beautiful already, even at four. Growing up the way she has, I was afraid she would be a scared little weakling, but she is spirited and feisty. She finds a way to have fun, even in the worst of situations, she has such a strong spirit” I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face at the mention of my precious little girl. I couldn’t wait to have her back in my arms.
“She sounded a lot like you when you were a child,” Ion commented, sipping at the glass of brandy he had poured for himself. I looked him over for a moment, feeling strange at his interest. I didn’t exactly understand why he still wanted anything to do with me. In theory, I was still the key to his throne, but I was no longer the pure young woman Ion had been promised.
Every summer since I had turned eight, my mother had pulled out the marriage contract and gone over it with me for understanding and told me one fact about the man I would marry. Sometimes, it was as simple as his name or the color of his hair. Other times, it was about his favorite toy or his favorite sport. One thing I knew for certain, from pouring over it so many times, was that the arrangement was supposed to mean I had never been touched by another man. I was to be pure and a virgin for Ion. That was not the case. I had been taken, used, and abused in every way possible. Why would Ion even still want me after Jonas had his way with me for eight years?
After a light lunch, Ion led me through his home, showing me where everything was. It was a large and very nice place. Once Bianca was with me, I would have no trouble getting comfortable with all the expensive furniture and endless food that was available in the kitchen or through delivery. The building had a concierge for goodness sake. Ion definitely had the means to care for the two of us. But I sort of wondered what he had in store for me emotionally. I had been on a roller coaster of hell for eight years with an old, dirty snake. I didn’t want history repeating itself, even if Ion was so much younger and more attractive.
Knox Brotherhood Page 98
