by Marian Tee
“Tell them to dangle more money. Or if necessary, hire someone to do the dirty job for them.”
“You mean kill?” Yuki questioned with a frown.
Helios returned Yuri’s look with a merciless gaze. “Yes. I mean fucking kill – and I don’t care who they kill. The people who took MJ must pay.”
“That’s not the way we do things—”
Helios’ hand slashed in the air in protest, cutting the other man off. “She’s been gone for five days now, Yuri. You know – you fucking know what that means. If I have to go to prison for this and if I have to kill a thousand men to find her – I will.”
In his mind, MJ still wasn’t crying. She was just staring blankly at him, wondering like a little girl why he had left her all alone to face the big bad world.
His chest constricted. Wherever you are, keep thinking I will save you, brat. Don’t lose faith in that. Because I will. I won’t stop until I find you again.
****
“Why did you do this?” It was not her first time to be alone with James. He had been there when she had left the E.R., and he had been the one to drive her back to Manolito Chavez’s house. Now, he was here inside her room, acting as a guard so she, his own daughter, would not escape captivity.
Like that was possible with her tied spread-eagled on the four-post bed. The thought was ludicrous, and she would have laughed if she wasn’t so scared it would start her descent to hysterics and, eventually, insanity.
Since her operation, Manolito liked visiting her at odd hours of the day, donning a fresh pair of surgical gloves before he inserted his fingers into her body. It was as if he wanted assurance that her newly reconstructed hymen was truly there, and that it was as flimsy as the doctor said it was.
One time, he had caught her looking at him, and he said, “I don’t want to feel your flesh against mine, my dear. Not just yet. I want our first time to be special.”
The memory of it made her stomach heave, and she looked at James despairingly. He was seated next to the door, smoking, a bored look on his face. “Why?” she demanded again, her voice scratchy with tears she didn’t want to shed.
James finally looked at her, and the hatred on his face stunned her. “You still don’t get it, do you? Stupid cunt. You’re not my own flesh and blood. You’re the fucking remembrance of your mother’s whoring days, and I’ve always hated the sight of you. I would have left you for dead – would have killed you with my bare hands if I thought I could get away with it.”
He stood up, and when James stalked towards her, MJ could feel herself shrinking away from her father – no, from James – even if she didn’t want to.
His fingers wrapped around her jaw in a painfully tight hold. “It gave me so much fucking joy to torture you. It was like screwing your dad over and over, and he didn’t even fucking know it,” James bragged with a vicious smile.
When James released her and walked back to his seat, MJ felt something black and heavy grow inside her. It was…hatred, she realized, and she welcomed the emotion, knowing that it may be another way to keep herself alive.
“I hate you,” she whispered. And she did. She really did. Thinking of all the years she had wasted, trying to win his love when he wasn’t even her father, made MJ want to weep. But she couldn’t. She had lost the strength to even care, and her hatred was just a cold spark inside her. All she knew was that she only had one source of hope left, one person who had really, really loved her.
Helios.
But he wasn’t here to help her, was he?
If she wanted to live, she had to cling on to what was real, and that was her hatred.
“Like I fucking care.” James yawned as he took his seat.
“You should,” MJ advised him tonelessly. Looking at him, she no longer saw a man she might have been able to love or respect. She looked at him and saw a walking corpse, looked at him and imagined the hundreds of ways she could have him killed. “Before this is over, I’ll make you pay.”
There was no emotion behind the words, and somehow it was that very reason which made James pause. He tried to ignore the feeling of someone walking over his grave, and he told himself he was just imagining things when he saw his own death in the young girl’s eyes. She was a stupid cunt, always was, always had been. He had nothing to worry about.
Chapter Three
“Who the fuck are you to MJ, Katya Vlahos?”
The normally tidy and fashionable young woman was disheveled and unkempt. Dark bags underlined her eyes, and she looked like she had been wearing the same set of clothes for days. She had told them to meet her at the hotel rather than her dorm, which aroused their suspicions. But now that they had met, nothing about the Greek heiress added up.
The knob behind them twisted, someone unlocking the door from outside. Everyone tensed, hands ready to pull out guns they had started keeping with them ever since MJ had been taken. To others, it might seem like they were college students playing cops and robbers. If only it was so. In their lives, all of them had, at one point or another, found a life-threatening need to use a gun. There were just a paltry few people they could trust when one had billions of dollars in the bank.
“Relax.” Katya’s voice was weary. “It’s just my brother.”
No sooner had she spoken when the door opened and a tall, dark-haired man walked inside. His first concern was Katya, his eyes zeroing in on her with laser-sharp precision. The resemblance between the two was uncanny, and Helios knew this must be Ioniko Vlahos, one of Greece’s most eligible bachelors as well as being a billionaire in his own right.
“You are okay?” Ioniko murmured in Greek.
Katya nodded. “They’re here asking about MJ.” She gestured to Helios. “He is Helios Andreadis, MJ’s boyfriend.”
Placing himself directly behind the armchair where Katya was seated, Ioniko took his time studying the younger man. He noted the weariness and tension on Andreadis’ face as well as the fierce glint of determination in the gold-flecked eyes. Good, he thought. This was not a man about to give up searching for the woman he loved.
Katya touched the hand resting on her shoulder. “Ioniko, Helios wants to know about us and MJ.”
Ioniko said without preamble, “We are her half-siblings.”
Helios jerked.
“We learned about her existence from the journals our father left us upon his death.”
“I came here, wanting to know who she is, wanting to hate her for being the daughter of the woman who destroyed my parents’ marriage. Papa and Mama were always happy – or at least they were once, but then something happened and it just wasn’t the same anymore.” Katya swallowed. “When I met MJ, I just knew I couldn’t hate her. She’s told me a little about what she’s gone through and I just…I wished we had been there for her.”
“I had wanted to meet her beforehand,” Ioniko continued, “but Katya convinced me to give MJ space because she had just undergone a lot of turbulent changes.” He looked at Helios meaningfully at the word ‘turbulent’.
Faint color stained Helios’ cheeks.
“We are extremely worried about her disappearance,” Ioniko stressed. “Is it true? That she has been abducted?”
“Yes.” Helios’ jaw clenched at the admission. Even now, he blamed himself for what happened. “We’ve kept it quiet to allow us to search for MJ more effectively.”
“I would like to help with the search,” Ioniko volunteered grimly. “I do not mind getting my hands dirty.”
Helios’ smile became menacing. “Neither do I.”
“Then we will get along, won’t we?” Something about the man’s bristling tension bemused Ioniko, and it took him a while to realize that Helios was still having a hard time seeing him as MJ’s older brother. Like any hot-blooded Greek male, Helios saw him as another man who cared about the woman he loved, therefore making him a rival. It was clear Helios hated accepting help from him, but it was just as clear he would take the help offered because of his desire to see M
J safe.
“Helios?” It was Katya who broke the silence. “When…we find MJ, I want to be able to tell her the truth.” Her words were spoken in a fierce tone, a clear warning that she would not stand for anyone getting in her way. “I…just…I just hate myself, for not telling her when I had the chance.” Her voice caught. “When I see her, I want to tell her right away, okay?”
“You will get to see her and tell her that,” Helios said curtly. He knew he was being unfair, disliking the way doubt and grief had already colored Katya’s words. But he did. MJ was alive – and she would stay alive for him.
Ioniko’s own eyes flashed in warning at Helios. “Do not speak to her in such a way. She is only worried about MJ—”
“And I’m telling you, there is nothing for you to be worried about. She will live.”
“I, too, want her to be alive, Andreadis. But we must also be practical—”
“No,” Helios growled furiously. “She’s alive. She’s fucking alive, so stop saying stupid things.” He closed his eyes, digging deep into the darkest part of his soul. He whispered, “MJ…is the type to be savored, even if you only want to kill her.” His eyes opened. “And for that reason alone, I’m fucking telling you. She’s alive – and she’s waiting for me to come rescue her.”
****
“How have you been, my dear?”
Manolito’s voice was as pleasant as ever, and she did her best to match it, making sure that she met his gaze straight on as she spoke. “I’m fine.” She had been with him for twelve days now. And for the last two days, she had been allowed to roam freely about her bedroom, with only one ankle chained to the bedpost.
He took a seat at the edge of her bed. “What do you have for me tonight?”
She took one quick deep breath—
Dear God, please let this work again.
—and when she exhaled, she was ready. She took his hand and placed it on her elbow. “Here, twist it.” He did, and the pain made her gasp. Tears stung her eyes even as she smiled at him. “That’s it. Twist it some more.”
He did, smiling like a happy little boy as with each twist, her gasps became shallower and her tears flowed faster.
“Does it feel good?” she whispered.
Lust blazed from his eyes. “Yes.”
“That’s great,” she continued in a whisper. “I like it when you feel good.”
“W-why?”
“Because you’re the only reason I’m alive.”
Fifteen minutes later and Manolito had spent himself in his pants. He bowed down courteously, kissing her knuckles before excusing himself, leaving her with an elbow that felt like it had been run over by a lawnmower.
“I know what you’re doing, you know,” James sneered from behind her as he came back inside the room, his sole purpose still being to watch over her.
She didn’t bother answering him even though she had a feeling he did know. More than anyone here, he was aware of how high her tolerance for pain was. Over the years, one thing she had become really good at was knowing which injuries killed and which injuries looked like it could kill…but didn’t. It was the latter that she used to keep Manolito entertained so he would not think so much about raping her. Maybe, maybe if she kept breaking her bones, he would be satisfied with that.
“Sooner or later, he’ll see through you,” James spat. “He’ll listen to me and know that I’ve been saying the truth all along. You can’t be trusted, you’re a stupid cunt, and once he knows that’s true, he’ll rip into you good.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Just between you and me, James?”
“What’s that, cunt?”
“I think he’ll rip into you first.”
James came at her with a roar.
By the time Manolito’s men had come to her aid, he had scratched her face, left her with a bruised lip, and dislocated her shoulder. But he did what she wanted. She was so badly injured, she knew she would be knocked unconscious because of it. Manolito would be mad at James, not her. All in all, it could add another two days’ delay. Maybe, if she was lucky, it could stretch to three.
As the world swam above her, MJ heard Helios say from behind, Good job, brat.
I knew you’d be proud of me.
I am. So fucking much.
Can I see you now?
Not just yet. But soon.
I love you, Helios.
Love you more than you could ever possibly know, brat. So hang in there for me.
I’ll do my best.
Chapter Four
Dahlia Andreadis’ first inkling that something was wrong came when the limousine she was riding was refused entry…to her very own home. She gaped as she listened to the voice coming from the intercom, unable to believe someone could be so idiotic. What was this? An attempt to take over her own home in broad daylight?
Her chauffeur looked at her over his shoulder, worry stamped all over his face. “I’m sorry, Madam Andreadis. He says if you want to go inside, you must go inside on foot.”
Something skittered over her veins, like a traitorous snake about to strike at her. She took out her phone and dialed the number of the police chief. She listened with growing consternation as the phone only rang – and kept ringing until it was disconnected.
Ungrateful peasant, Dahlia thought furiously. She did not pay him so much every month to have him ignore her calls. Throwing the door open, she stomped out of the car and stalked straight to the ornate gates that were held close against its own mistress.
She opened her mouth to scream invectives at whoever was behind this, but the words died in her throat when the gates swung open. When she saw what was before her, Dahlia’s knees shook, and only sheer pride kept her standing.
All of her men were on the ground, most of them looking like they had gone through hell. And guarding them were an unsavory-looking crowd, not one of them even looking remotely Greek to her. How were they able to enter her compound and not have her own neighbors raise an alarm?
It took her a long while to climb the uphill path leading to the mansion. Every step had her feeling more and more unnerved, the silent stares of the foreign-looking intruders around her creating an ominously eerie atmosphere. All her guards avoided her gaze as she passed them by, as if merely looking at Dahlia would have their heads cut off.
Nothing about this made sense, Dahlia thought numbly. Nothing. Why was this even happening?
She couldn’t think of anyone who was angry enough at her family to do something this drastic. No one except for—
“A word, Mrs. Andreadis?”
Her head jerked up and she gasped, her face mottled with fury when she saw the man standing at the top of the stairs. “You!” It was the police chief himself. “What’s going on here? How dare you—”
“I’ve been asked to give you a message, Mrs. Andreadis.”
“I don’t give a damn,” she screeched. “You will pay for this—”
“Helios Andreadis says, an eye for an eye.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach at the words, and Dahlia almost swayed on her feet. Helios. He was here again, and this time he meant business. Let sleeping dogs lie. Wasn’t that how the American saying went? Ah, but with Helios, it was more like a slumbering predator of a lion, and she had stupidly prodded him awake and roused his temper.
She looked behind her, seeing all of her guards were still down on the ground, every one of them rendered helpless by the mighty force that Helios had brought in. Dahlia looked back at the police chief, whose face was unflinchingly calm.
Helios must have set him up for life to win his loyalty so quickly. But then, he had never really been loyal to her, had he? He had only been loyal to money, and it just so happened her stepson was able to throw more of it his way.
The point was, everyone, perhaps even her neighbors, had been paid to look away today, no matter what happened. The chilling thought had her swallowing. What did Helios want to happen now?
****
“What the
hell are you doing here?” Herod shot to his feet when he saw his bastard of a brother enter his office at home, cool as you please, like he was a welcome part of the family.
Helios slowly cracked his knuckles. In his mind, he could see MJ, her violet eyes filled with too much pain that made it impossible for her to even cry. Somewhere in this world, the woman he cared most about was hurting beyond tears, and Herod Andreadis was one of those to blame for it.
If not for the damn stunt Herod and his damn mother had pulled that time, Helios would not have been injured. He would not have been lying flat on his bed, resting, while MJ was abducted, her noiseless cries of help going unheard.
Herod was standing right in front of him now, haughty contempt on his face. “Do you have something to say before I have the guards throw you out?”
“I’m not going to play fucking nice this time.” It was all the warning Herod Andreadis got before his younger half-brother proceeded to try, really try, to beat the hell out of him.
Herod had never seen Helios this angry, not even when he had pulled that stunt with Odessa some years back. His lips, bleeding from the uppercut Helios gave him, parted, Herod wanting to make a jibe but Helios not giving him a chance to.
Fifteen minutes later, and the legitimate heir of the Andreadis clan had no thoughts left for making Helios lose his temper. There was nothing to lose, Herod realized, since his brother had long been replaced by a madman.
He tried to protect himself then, but it was useless. Helios had always been bigger, faster, and stronger. There was no way to protect himself from the kicks that landed in his stomach, his legs, and his back. There was no way to stop that one powerful hit which had his ribs cracking.
He tried to escape, but soon enough he realized there was nowhere to go, not when his own mother, Dahlia, was screaming outside the door. Mother. He tried to ask for help, but Helios’ fist punched the word back into his throat, and Herod fell to his knees. He choked, spat, and to his horror, he saw his own teeth fall onto the carpeted floor.
