“Call Pasha. Tell him to put guards on Sonia and tell him they have come and they have taken Haleigh.”
Dimitri pulls out his phone and tells Pasha exactly what I have instructed him to, verbatim. I know Pasha is probably scrambling around like a madman at this exact moment.
I leave the room and walk into my office. Once I sit down, I allow myself to fall apart. I only allow this for a moment, only a moment, because I will not be able to when Pasha arrives.
“Maxim, tell me what the fuck is happening?” Dimitri demands.
He has every right to be confused. For somebody who knows everything about me, he knows nothing of this, and he knows nothing of my true past.
“Pull the surveillance tapes and when Pasha arrives, I tell you,” I tell him in Russian. My mind is too far gone to even try to speak English at the moment.
Dimitri does as I ask, and I hold my head in my hands and cry like a pussy. I am a pussy. My woman has been taken and it is all my fault. They are right; I was being too cocky, and I got sloppy.
“How in the fuck did you not take care of this years ago, Maxim?” Pasha screams. His face is so red; it looks like it is going to pop off his shoulders.
“I have not received a message for so long, Pasha, I thought they forgot,” I shrug, the motion jerky and not convincing.
“They never forget, Maxim,” he says, his voice low and deep.
I nod because I knew this. I know this, and I was just being cocky.
“The surveillance is ready,” Dimitri says, nodding at Pasha. I stand, walking down to the basement where three computer screens are set up and ready.
I sit down and press play on my bedroom camera. I watch myself lean down and kiss my beautiful Haleigh on the cheek before leaving for work. She is in a sexy little nightie and wrapped in the blankets of our bed.
I want to make Pasha and Dimitri turn away, but I will need their eyes. I fast forward an hour and watch as Haleigh wakes up and then she looks around, her shoulders slumping. She showers and changes into shorts and a tank top, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. I hate it. She walks into her closet and appears with a suitcase.
“What the fuck?” I ask nobody in particular.
Haleigh turns and faces the camera. That is when I see that she is crying, hard. My heart breaks. I have done this to her. I have made her cry. What an ass I am. I watch in silence as her body shakes with sobs while she packs a suitcase to leave me.
Once her bag is zipped, she sits on the bed and cries for a few more moments. Then, all of a sudden, she wraps her hand around her stomach and runs to the bathroom. I can only guess that she has made herself sick. She returns and rubs her stomach for a moment.
I watch as she opens the suitcase and unpacks everything she had packed. Hope flares inside of me. She changed her mind. Once the last item is unpacked, she puts the suitcase away and walks down to the kitchen.
Haleigh is pouring herself a glass of milk when I see a figure in all black come up behind her. I grit my teeth as he wraps his hand around her mouth. I watch in horror as he injects something into her neck. Her body slumps, and I know the drugs have taken over.
The dark figure turns around and looks right into the camera; his covered face conceals his identity. His dark eyes are smiling as his hand slides down Haleigh’s limp body. I growl when his hand goes down the front of her shorts and he touches her.
Touches my pussy.
My woman.
My fucking wife.
His hand only lingers a moment before he brings it back out and fucking waves. He fucking waves at the camera, then they are gone.
I don’t say a word as I switch to the outside camera to find him loading her into the backseat of a black Range Rover with missing plates. The driver holds his hand out of the window as the man who took my wife slides into the passenger seat and they speed down my driveway.
“Explain,” Dimitri barks once the video is finished. I sigh and Pasha narrows his eyes at me.
“Dimitri is your security, and he knows not of this, of them?” Pasha asks, his eyes cold and dead on me. I deserve it.
I push my chair back and stand.
“I told you, Pasha. I thought it was finished. I thought they were done with me.”
I look at Dimitri and then I decide to tell him all of it, all of the dirty, gritty, fucking bullshit that I did as a kid.
The promises I made to save myself.
The commitments I did not think about at the time.
The harsh reality that what I have done could forever haunt my sweet wife, my Haleigh.
MY STOMACH ROILS, BUT I can’t seem to move. I want to curl into a ball from the pain. I can’t move my arms or my legs at all; my body feels so heavy. I slowly open my eyes and am met with a gray wall—a block wall. I moan, trying to move, but I can’t. I try to roll my head to the side, but my neck muscles won’t move either. All I can do is stare straight ahead of me.
“She wakes,” a thick Russian accent whispers. He is suddenly right in front of me, crouched, his dark eyes focused on mine.
“You will feel heavy from the drugs I administered. Slowly, you will regain your faculties and then the real fun will begin, blyad,” he growls. That word confuses me. I have never heard it before. Maxim uses some Russian with me, but not very much at all, and he’s never used that word before.
“Your Maxim has not taught you the word?” He pauses and then smiles. It is creepy. “Blyad, it means whore. That is what you are, you know this, correct?”
I close my eyes tightly, trying not to let the tears that are building fall.
“Yes, I suppose you know this by now. However, it seems as though Maxim likes to keep you for himself.” He chuckles before he tsks and shakes his head slightly then he continues.
“We have been watching you, vlagalische—cunt—I know you are with child, and I cannot wait to rip the baby from you, to raise more soldiers.” He smiles, but it looks just plain evil.
I gasp at his words, but he just laughs. Just today, I thought I could be pregnant. I have been so tired and then I started throwing up. That was why I unpacked my bags. I needed to know for sure before I left Maxim. I would never keep a child from its father. I couldn’t. A man deserves to know if he is a father. Plus, I had some false hope that a baby would keep Maxim from doing something, like getting rid of me.
“Maxim has been cocky. He must have thought that I would not keep my eye out for him. I always watch. Maxim bargained his first born when he was but a child, and if it is a boy, he will be our soldier for the army. But if it is a girl, a new blyad to breed for us. If she is lucky to be pretty like you, then maybe I sell her as a virgin to the highest bidder.” He chuckles and I finally speak.
“Maxim will never allow this. He will find me,” I croak, my voice hoarse and weak.
The man laughs, his perfectly straight teeth and strong jaw making me ill to look at—he is so handsome and so evil, a true handsome devil.
“Maxim was one of the children taken from his mother’s womb, sold to us by his parents who were too busy shoving blow up their noses to give a fuck what happened to their baby,” he informs me.
I ask him how, but he shakes his head. I watch helplessly as a needle is brought to my neck and I slowly fall into darkness again.
Distorted visions of Maxim as a crying baby flitter through my mind along with images of my own child being ripped from my body. It makes me feel empty, anxious, and betrayed.
How could Maxim have hidden this from me?
I know the answer to that … I don’t want to know the answer, but I do know it. My father owed him something and I was his payment—nothing more than property and a uterus to pay back this sadistic bastard for the debt he owed him.
I know that I will never survive this. Once they have ripped this baby from me, they will either kill me or use me in ways I cannot even imagine. Maxim will live his life and fall in love with the person he truly wants to be with and I will be nothing but a fleeting thought. A w
oman who once shared his bed and his body.
I am nothing but a means to an end, a way for Maxim to finally live happy with whoever he chooses. I always wondered why a man as handsome and seemingly powerful as Maxim would essentially accept a bride as payment for a debt.
Now, I know the truth.
He never intended to keep me.
Inside I am dying.
My heart is shattering, and my soul is ripping to shreds. No matter how badly he hurt me, I had already felt so much for him. I was falling in love with him. I was already in love with him, or at least I thought I was. Perhaps it is only the illusion of him?
“Wake up,” a harsh woman barks. My eyes slowly open to find her standing above me.
“I have examined you and you are indeed pregnant. About eight weeks or so.” She nods and I feel so … violated; she examined me while I was passed out.
“Boris, she must be hydrated and she must eat properly, all these things affect the fetus. She must also stop being drugged,” she says, completely ignoring me. I want to cry but tears are for people who have feelings and I feel … nothing.
“Yes, I will see to her. The protection of the fetus is most important. What about fucking?” he asks.
I almost whimper, but if I were honest with myself, I would know that this is exactly what I expected I would forever be used for—my body, one way or another.
“She may fuck but try to keep whoever it is from being violent or too rough. If she begins to bleed between the legs, you must call me. I will return in four weeks for my next exam,” she says, her voice harsh. With that, the good doctor leaves.
“Good luck for you, Haleigh. You can fuck, and I have a line of men just waiting to get a hold of prima ballerina pussy.” He grins.
I shake, unable to control my disgust and revulsion at this man, this handsome devil.
“Get up and shower, I bring you food,” he barks, making me jump. I sigh, standing on shaky legs, wobbling toward the shower.
I don’t know how long I have been here, and I don’t care. My life is no longer important, to me or anybody else. I start the shower and get inside after stripping my clothes off. It is a small dirty shower and the water is cold, but I don’t feel it, not really. I wash my body and my hair with the generic shampoos and soaps, then wrap myself in a small scratchy towel and go back to the dirty mattress where I have been drugged for what could be weeks, but what was probably days.
“Put this on,” the handsome devil I now know as Boris barks and throws a cami and panty set at me.
Shamelessly, I change right in front of him. Just days ago, my husband was the only man to see me completely naked; but after Boris is finished with me, will I even know how many men will have seen me? Been inside of me? Used me for their pleasures?
“A sandwich and water. Eat up, ballerina, you will be working well into the morning.” He laughs and walks out of the room.
How could a man so handsome be so cruel? I eat the food, it is bland and I actually like that. It helps the numbness.
I sit on the bed alone. My life is over. I should have ran when I had the chance, but I have a feeling whoever these men were, they would have found me anyway.
I stare at the wall for what seems like hours and then the door bursts open and I am met with the first man who will take his pleasure from my pain. It startles me. I am met with another handsome devil, a man I met once and thought was so pretty—too pretty for whores.
He is one of them; he is also Maxim’s friend. How could this be?
“Haleigh, what have you gotten yourself into?” he whispers his eyes roaming over my practically nude body, panties and a cami with no bra underneath; it makes me feel completely exposed.
“I have done nothing but existed. Maybe you should ask your friend, Maxim, that question,” I say softly.
He shakes his head and begins to undress.
He is going to fuck me?
He is my husband’s friend and he is going to fuck me?
I want to throw up, and scream, and run, but I can’t. I only hope that the numbness will take over once the shock of seeing Gregori wears off.
Gregori walks over to me, completely nude, but I look into his eyes and I see something akin to remorse. I want to laugh. What a fake emotion from these men—pity, remorse, they do not belong to these men. Men who do not even have a conscience. He slides into the bed his back to the door and he wraps his hand around my neck as his lips touch behind my ear.
“We are being filmed, milaya moya. I will be gentle, and I will make sure no other man comes to you. I cannot just leave you alone, you must realize this,” he whispers, his hand sliding to my hip and around to my ass. He gently squeezes me, and I feel disgusted with myself for liking it.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, tears finally pricking my eyes. Numbness is not taking over as I had hoped.
“I am trying to save all of the women like you, milaya moya, but if I expose myself now, I will lose dozens of them. So many innocents, you must understand this.” His eyes are focused on mine and I see something inside him. I see a fierce warrior, a man true to his word. I see goodness, or maybe I am praying I see the goodness in his eyes.
“Will you protect my baby? Even if something happens to me, please protect my baby, Gregori,” I whisper, allowing the tears to fall. Gregori kisses my tears away.
“Yes, milaya moya, your baby will be forever under my protection. But nothing will happen to you. Have faith in me and have faith in your husband. He loves you and he will save you. Together we will all save many others.” I nod and suck in a breath as he begins to slowly remove my clothes.
Gregori doesn’t speak as he kisses down my body, his mouth connecting with my core, licking me softly, hesitantly, and I cry. I cannot hold the tears in as this beautiful man sucks on my clit; my betraying body begins to come alive under his continuous motion. His mouth is warm and his tongue firm as he pushes it inside of me. He is gentle, so much gentler than Maxim ever has been. It isn’t bad, but it isn’t Maxim, and I continue to cry.
Gregori’s hands slide under my ass as he brings me closer to his face and I shamelessly grind myself even closer to his mouth as my hands slide into his hair. I feel that familiar feeling, that clawing beneath my skin for release, and then suddenly his mouth is gone and he replaces it with his cock, sliding deep inside of me. He isn’t as big as Maxim, but I still feel a bit of pain as he fills me.
“Fucking Christ,” he whispers.
I moan at the feeling. I screw my eyes shut, tightly. I don’t want to like it, but I do. I feel shameful and dirty. I am disgusted with myself.
“I’m sorry, Haleigh, but you feel so fucking good,” he whispers. Then he starts thrusting in and out of me, gently, but with purpose.
I wrap my legs around his waist and raise my hips to meet his thrusts, my belly clenching and then, as if the guilt washes away for just a moment, I come hard. My fingernails dig into the skin of his biceps. Gregori buries his face in my neck as he continues to thrust into my body. Before long, he stills and throws his head back with a moan. He comes inside of me and with that, the guilt comes rushing back like a tidal wave.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs rolling off me. I immediately turn over and face the wall, unable to look at him.
“I will be back,” he promises. The promise makes me sick.
I start to cry at his words as he dresses, and then he is gone. I don’t move. For hours, I don’t move. I stare at the wall and think about how horrible I am. It doesn’t matter that Maxim gave me to these people or not. I am still legally his wife, and I have just cheated. Even if I was forced to do it, I still cheated and I feel disgusting. I shower in the cool water again and put the flimsy cami and panties back on, trying to fall asleep.
I pray that Gregori finishes his mission, finds my Maxim, and tells him where I am. I pray that I don’t stay here long enough to deliver my child.
I am a bastard of the worst kind. I fucked my friend’s wife and I fucking liked it. N
one of these men can know that I am friends with Maxim. I must continue to make them believe I am only around him to keep tabs on him for them.
I am under no illusion that when Maxim finds out he will shake my hand and thank me for protecting his wife. No, he will kill me. This has escalated my plan. I am not ready to execute it yet, but I cannot continue to fuck Haleigh. I cannot allow her to give birth in this shithole. I cannot allow my friend’s child to be taken from him. Too much has already been taken from him. For the first time in my life, I feel an emotion. It must be guilt. I have never felt it before.
“Was she as tight as her body promised?” Boris asks, taking a drag from his cigarette. I glare at him a moment.
“She is mine. You’ll not sell her to another while she is here,” I demand. This is rare for me, but not unheard of.
Many a time there has been a girl, too young or too innocent for whoring, and I have taken them as mine. I tell myself it is for protection, but maybe I am just as evil as the men running this group because I always fuck them. I always enjoy it too. Their tight pussies, their tighter assholes, and their unsure mouths. Teaching them how to fuck a man, I fucking love it.
I am just as sick as these fucks.
“I have a list for her, Gregori,” Boris growls. I pull my gun out and point it at his face.
“You are nobody. You are nothing, and I tell you what to do. Am I clear?” He gulps and nods.
“If you hurt her, if she is not properly cared for, I will torture you,” I threaten, my eyes meeting his, never wavering. I am in control, I am in charge, and I fucking despise how much I love it.
“I have a new debt to collect. I will be gone a few days. This fucker thought he could hide in Los Angeles, like the city would swallow him and his little daughter up,” he announces. I nod, business as usual.
“How old is the daughter?”
“Seventeen. Sweet little thing.” He flops the file down on my desk, and I open it.
Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva #1) Page 12
