by Bella Rose
Mikhail shot to his feet. “Excuse me?”
“You just took everything away from that man,” Toby said quietly. “You took his business, his purpose, his financial security, and his identity. You knew you were going to do it. You knew what it meant to him. That’s why you did it. Fine. But what you created was an absolute ironclad reason for him to need his daughter to marry that bastard Kemper.”
“He needs Kemper’s money for himself,” Mikhail whispered, horrified at what he had done.
* * *
Courtney remained alone in her room. Time spooled by unchecked. Twilight turned to dark, night into dawn, and still she lay curled in a tiny ball on her bed. She would have stayed there indefinitely except that her stomach revolted and forced her to take action. It was a horrible feeling. The choking nausea made her suck in deep breaths while she tried to gain control of her digestive system, but it was no use.
Rolling off the mattress, she stumbled to her en suite bathroom. Her knees hit the tile as she slid toward the toilet. She grabbed the white porcelain bowl just in time. Heaving into the toilet, she wondered if this whole nausea thing was a product of her anxiety or something else. She grabbed for the handle to flush. Groping for one of the towels hanging on the rack, she pressed her face into the fluffy cotton. She felt much better after throwing up. This ridiculousness couldn’t go on, though. She would have to make an appointment with her doctor and find out what sort of flu she’d managed to pick up. Maybe if she was lucky, it would be the kind that required her to stay in quarantine for months on end. Six months would be good. Maybe that would be long enough for her father to find a new scheme that wouldn’t necessitate marrying her off to Creighton Kemper.
There was a sudden banging on her bedroom door. “Courtney! You can’t stay in there forever! Get dressed and get your ass downstairs. Creighton will be here in a few minutes to take you to the park to settle on the location for the wedding.”
The park? Her sluggish brain had completely forgotten the bullshit meeting with the wedding planner where she’d chosen the city park as the scene of the crime—er—wedding. Courtney sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t go this morning. I’m not feeling well.”
There was a rattle of the knob, and then her father burst into her bedroom. Apparently locks meant nothing in this house when he had one of those tiny keys that voided her desire for privacy. Her father came stomping into the bathroom. He took one look at Courtney curled up on the floor in front of the toilet and glowered as though she personally responsible for her poor physical condition.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snarled. “Are you trying to sell me on that anxiety idea again? I already told you. If the doctor thinks you’re suffering from anxiety, get some pills. That’s what everyone else does. Swallow a few of those and move on. You’re acting ridiculous. Now get dressed and get moving. I don’t care if you throw up on Creighton’s shoes. That’s his problem. He’s the one who is still dead set on marrying you.” Her father actually rolled his eyes. “I can’t even understand why, but I can thank my lucky stars that he is. So don’t screw this up.”
“Yes, Dad,” Courtney whispered. She couldn’t ever remember missing her mother so very much.
* * *
“This is a bad idea,” Toby grunted. “And I still can’t figure out why you dragged me along for the ride. What do you think I can do?”
“You know him,” Mikhail murmured as the two of them strode into the headquarters of Kemper Industries.
“Not well,” Toby argued. But he straightened the cuffs of his tailored dress shirt and rolled his neck from side to side. “At this rate he’ll be lucky if I don’t plant my fist in his face.”
Mikhail glanced over in surprise. “Really? Why the violence?”
“Bella thinks I should.”
Mikhail couldn’t help but chuckle. “Tell me, do you always do what Bella thinks you should these days?”
“I do what I can to make her happy.” The blissful expression that stole over Toby’s features made Mikhail grimace.
“Ugh,” Mikhail spat. “Keep that look of sexual satisfaction off your face.”
Mikhail’s mind wandered back to that hotel room where he had experienced the most profound sexual satisfaction of his life with Courtney in his arms. He hadn’t been with anyone since. There just hadn’t been a desire. She was perfection; why would he settle for anything less?
“We’re here to see Creighton Kemper,” Mikhail told the receptionist in a terse tone of voice. “My name is Mikhail Krachenko, and this is Toby Pinckney.”
Mikhail could tell that Toby’s name had the desired effect on the woman, but she bit her lip and looked uncomfortable. “I’m terribly sorry, but Mr. Kemper is in a meeting.” She threw a surreptitious glance toward the double doors just behind her desk. “Could you wait? I can have coffee and whatever else brought to the conference room.”
“Certainly.” Mikhail wondered to himself what sort of business an empty figurehead like Creighton could possibly have to conduct this early in the morning.
The receptionist showed Mikhail and Toby to the conference room. Soon a tray of coffee and pastries was on the table. Toby began eagerly helping himself. Mikhail paced.
“What is your deal?” Toby asked through a mouthful of strawberry tart.
Mikhail turned and stared out the glass doors, his gaze zeroing in on Creighton Kemper’s closed doors. “What business could that pansy possibly have to conduct? We all know that he has an office because his daddy owns the company. He does nothing. And the board pays him to do nothing so he doesn’t mess things up.”
“True.” Toby bobbed his head in agreement. “Maybe he’s got Elsa in there—you know—planning.”
Then the office door swung open, and Creighton appeared. Mikhail thought he might actually be in danger of losing his composure as four men walked out right behind Kemper. Mikhail knew them instantly. They were the top men in the Russian mafia there in the city. Yuri Gregorevich, Dimitri Orlov, Denis Krakov, and Vasily Romanov did not take meetings unless there was genuine business to be discussed. Whatever Kemper was up to, he was in way over his head, and Mikhail wanted to know why.
Chapter Nine
“Mikhail?”
The voice seemed to be coming out of a tunnel. Mikhail could only stare transfixed at the Russian mafia bosses striding out of Creighton Kemper’s office. They looked exactly as he remembered them from his boyhood. Yuri was so skinny he appeared to be nothing more than a scarecrow, with a pointed beard and long thin fingers. Dimitri was short and fat. His lumbering walk was deceptive. Of the four, Dimitri was the most likely to pull out a gun and start shooting. Denis was the crabbiest. His expression was always dour, and he complained about everything. And Vasily? Vasily was the one who gave Mikhail stomach cramps. He would never forget looking down the barrel of his cousin’s handgun and wondering if he was going to get help or lose his life.
“Mikhail, what’s wrong?” It was Toby’s voice trying to pull him back to the present.
The present. Mikhail was no longer their man. He belonged only to himself. “I’m fine,” he told Toby. “But I would like to know what business Creighton Kemper has with the Russian mob.”
“Russian—what? Are you serious?” Toby said in a hushed whisper. He stood next to Mikhail and watched the men pace down the hall. “Do you know them?”
“Yes.”
“Do they recognize you?”
“Oh, I would imagine they know I’m here. Yes.” Because nothing got past them. Nothing.
Mikhail felt suddenly reckless. He couldn’t stand about being afraid of something that was never going to happen. These men had no power over him anymore. He was Mikhail Krachenko, a self-made billionaire and successful legitimate businessman.
Mikhail threw open the conference room door and walked into the hallway. He addressed Creighton first, as if he had barely noticed the other men. “Kemper! Perfect. I was afraid I was going to have to leave without speaking to you first.”
<
br /> Creighton looked more than mildly surprised to see Mikhail and Toby. “Gentlemen, what a pleasure to have you here. At my office.” Creighton was staring at the Russians. Then the Russians turned to stare at Mikhail.
“Mikhail Krachenko,” Vasily murmured. “So good to see you.”
Mikhail dipped his head. It would do no good to be disrespectful to these men. “Vasily, it has been too long. I hope your family is well.” Mikhail spoke in Russian, partially out of respect, but also because he knew it was driving Kemper insane.
“Yes, my family is very well.” Vasily’s eyes gleamed. “Ekaterina was just married to Dimitri’s oldest son last weekend.”
“Give her my congratulations!” Mikhail said warmly. “I am sure Oksana is excited and also sad to lose her beautiful daughter.”
“Oh yes.” Vasily cocked his head.
Vasily had always suspected some partiality on Mikhail’s side to Ekaterina. What he could never understand was that Mikhail had already been burned by a girl once. He didn’t form attachments like that anymore. Katy had only ever been a friend. Besides, she was Mikhail’s cousin. Although in Russian culture it wasn’t so unusual for second or third cousins to marry.
“And what brings you here?” Vasily’s gaze flicked toward Kemper. “Business?”
“Oh no,” Mikhail continued in Russian. “My friend here is married to the best friend of Kemper’s fiancée. You know women. They will always have their men running errands for them.” Mikhail didn’t know why he suddenly felt it imperative to make light of his visit to see Kemper, but his instincts had never failed him in the past. Especially when it came to dealing with these very dangerous men.
Vasily snorted and nodded enthusiastically. His three companions did the same. Then the five of them gave each other a polite good-bye, and the Russians strode off down the hall. Mikhail couldn’t help but think that he had just stepped right into the middle of a hornet’s nest, and Kemper the numbskull was standing hip-deep in it without even realizing his danger.
Mikhail backed Kemper into his office, Toby hot on their heels. Toby shut the door behind them while Mikhail kept pushing Kemper deeper into his office until he fell back into his desk chair.
“What do you think you’re doing with them?” Mikhail demanded.
Kemper shoved his chin out, looking belligerent. “How did you know them? And since when do you speak Russian?”
“Since always. And I know them because Vasily is my cousin.” Mikhail dispensed this information because he felt it would strengthen his position in Kemper’s eyes. And it did. The man was now staring at him as though he were some sort of god.
“That’s how you became successful!” Kemper burst out. “I could never figure out how some loser with no family business could make it so big, but that’s the answer!”
Mikhail shared a look of disgust with Toby. “Do you see my argument for mandatory sterilization of the upper classes?”
Toby snorted. “Hey now, don’t lump me in with him.”
“You’re a freak,” Mikhail observed. Then he turned back to Kemper. “And you’re an idiot. If I had gotten where I am now with their help, they would own my business. I would be working for them. But I’m not. I am my own man and nobody else’s. Someday you might be able to say the same, but probably not.”
“Look, I don’t know why you guys are here, but I have to go. I’m supposed to pick up my fiancée at her father’s house for some stupid outing in a few minutes.” Kemper actually looked irritated about that. “The woman is a total shrew.”
“So why marry her?”
“Because I’m going to enjoy making that bitch kneel in front of me. Do you know how many times she turned me down in school?” Kemper was looking feverishly excited. “Now she’ll have to do exactly what I say.”
Toby snorted. “You’re aware that marriage doesn’t work like that, right? You don’t automatically get power over someone because you marry them. They have rights too.”
“But she needs my money. The woman has nothing. She’ll do what I say or I’ll throw her ass out on the street.” The glee on Creighton’s face was unmistakable.
* * *
Courtney didn’t know where they were going and wasn’t sure she cared. It was ten o’clock in the morning, she felt sick as a dog, and Creighton was babbling on and on about some building he wanted her to see that he was just certain would be a huge moneymaker for them.
“Here. Let’s go inside.” Creighton pulled the car up to the curb and shut off the engine.
Courtney stared up at the old stone facade. “I don’t know,” she hedged. “It’s looks derelict. Are you sure it’s safe to go inside?”
“Of course.”
Creighton was already out of the car and walking around to open her door. He grabbed her hand. She thought he was going to help her out, but it was more like dragging her from the vehicle. She would have stumbled and gone down if he hadn’t caught her and yanked her back onto her feet. The place where he touched her arm burned. She would most certainly have bruises the next morning.
Courtney had worn a very sedate black dress with low heels, but it wasn’t at all suited for crawling around inside a dirty old building. She gingerly followed Creighton as he barged through the front entrance of the old place and into a lobby filled with bits of junk and construction trash.
“Isn’t it great?”
“What are you going to do with it?” Courtney asked dubiously.
Creighton shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Anything I guess.”
That seemed extremely shady. Courtney couldn’t help but wonder why he would bring her here at all. “If you don’t know what you’re going to do with it, why buy the place? Surely you have better places to spend your money?”
“That’s right.” Creighton whirled around and faced her with a sneer on his lips. “You’re quite worried about what I do with my money.”
“Excuse me?” She had no idea where this conversation was going or why it seemed to have taken such a strange turn. “It’s your money. Not mine. I was just wondering why you would bother.”
“Why I would bother?” His voice was getting louder, and his mood seemed to be escalating into something frightening. “Maybe because I have plans! Maybe because I’m tired of being bossed around by my father and brother. I want more, you know. Just because you have no aspirations or goals for your useless future, doesn’t mean that I don’t.”
She didn’t even touch the rude comments aimed at her personally. She was too busy backing away from Creighton as he flung his arms about and started shouting with his head thrown back. Was he trying to bring the entire building crashing down on their heads? It was as if he’d gone crazy!
Courtney’s fingertips brushed the rough surface of an old pillar. She tucked herself behind it and peered out at Creighton. He was energetically pacing from one end of the lobby to the other while he muttered to himself about disrespect, ulterior motives, and something about being told no too many times.
“Creighton?” she said softly, knowing she might be poking the bear but wanting to go home so badly she didn’t really care. “Can we just go home? The building will be beautiful when you’ve finished. I think it’s a wonderful idea. All right?”
He stopped abruptly and turned on her. “You’re just saying that.”
“What? No.” She apparently could not win. “That’s not true.”
“Did you know that your father lost his business?” Creighton snorted. “That asshole has you marrying me so you’ll give him money—my money.”
“His business?” Courtney was confused. She knew her father needed Creighton’s money in order to infuse his business with some capital. But as far as she knew, that was the extent of it.
“He lost it.” Creighton was looking smug. “He lost everything to that bastard Russian!”
“Russian?” Courtney said faintly. Surely Creighton couldn’t be talking about Mikhail. Could he?
She was too busy puzzling that all out in h
er head to realize her danger until it was too late. Creighton grabbed her arms and hauled her away from her hiding place. He spun her around and pushed her back up against the pillar. Her breasts and belly hit the rough surface, and her hands scraped across it as she tried to get free.
“No.” Creighton swatted her forcefully on her backside.
Bottom stinging, Courtney froze in shock and horror. “What are you doing?” she demanded.
“You’ve always been so high-and-mighty,” Creighton told her angrily. “Now I’m going to own you. You’ll have nothing without me. And if I want to bring you to a place like this and tell you to pull up your dress so I can fuck you, you’ll do it.”
Courtney pushed back with all her might. She placed both hands flat on the pillar and shoved, trying to throw Creighton off-balance. It didn’t work. With a laugh he shoved her hard. Her chin bounced off the pillar and she snapped her teeth together painfully. Then Creighton pressed himself against her. His lips were beside her ear, and his sour stench was all around her. Courtney struggled not to retch.
“I’m going to take you over and over again,” he told her roughly. “You’re going to scream and beg me to end it and I won’t because you’ll be mine.”
Tears threatened to stream down Courtney’s cheeks. She didn’t want to disgrace herself, but she was angry and scared. This could not be her fate. She couldn’t accept that this was it for her life.
Chapter Ten
Mikhail had a contract in front of him and two of his department heads sitting in front of his desk. They were all discussing the logistics of taking over the operations at Gordon Piers-Cameron’s business. Mikhail wanted a firm plan in place in order to expedite matters as he absorbed some of the operations and sold off the rest.
All three men looked up when they heard Mikhail’s administrative assistant calling out to someone. “No! You can’t go in there! You have to have an appointment. Ma’am? Ma’am!”
Mikhail’s office door swung open so hard that it bounced off the wall and left a black mark on the pristine khaki-colored paint. Shock did not cover what Mikhail was feeling as he realized that his unexpected guest was Courtney Piers-Cameron.
