“No. You’re not. Bring it down a notch, would you? Don’t be a dick.” She’s unfazed by his penetrating stare. Not only is she nice, she’s brave for holding her own against this imposing man. “Aren’t you going to change clothes for dinner?”
“Nope.” The tenderness in his touch as he brushes her hair away from her face contrasts with his gruff demeanor.
“Heathen.” She shakes her head, but her eyes are filled with affection.
“My boat. My rules.” As he watches his wife adjust his clothing, the hardness on his lean face melts into adoration. “I’ll do better.”
She rises on tiptoe. Presses a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.” With a final pat to his shirt, she gives me a reassuring smile. “His bark is worse than his bite. Most of the time.”
“Why don’t we sit down? I think dinner is ready.” Roman sweeps a hand toward the dining area.
After the meal and pleasant conversation, we move to the stern. The sun has set, leaving a deep blue sky sprinkled with stars. The quiet hum of the engines and rush of water provide soothing background music to the evening. Nicky stands at the railing, cocktail in hand, his gaze never wandering from me. Having him near soothes the lingering anxiety created by Valentina’s mind games. Memories of her are never far from my thoughts, snaking tendrils of malice through my brain. Even though the weather is balmy, I shiver.
“Here.” Nicky drapes an arm around my shoulders. His warmth chases away the internal chill. Rourke and Everly exchange glances. Although we’re removed from the other couples, I’m conscious of their constant appraisal. The weight of their gazes reminds me that I’m not one of them. The uber wealthy. The chill returns.
“Thanks.” I curl into his embrace. Our eyes meet. His returning smile goes straight to the space between my legs. A hunger unfurls in my center, one that won’t be satisfied by anything but his lips on mine.
“If you’re up to it, could we chat for a minute?” Roman stalks toward us, directing the question to me. He eases onto one of the white sofas and gestures toward the matching sofa across from him. With a flick of his fingers, he dismisses the stewards. They file out silently, leaving us alone with the hum of the engines and the lapping of water against the hull.
“Um, sure.” Reluctantly, I leave the security of Nicky’s side and take a seat in the chair across from his brother. A nervous sweat dampens my palms. I feel the same way I did when the high school principal caught me smoking in the restroom. Nicky leans against the deck railing a few feet away.
“I suppose you have questions.” Roman speaks around the cigar clenched between his teeth.
“Yes, sir. Many.” I don’t know why he intimidates me. Maybe it’s because I robbed his guests at the Masquerade de Marquis. Shame and guilt persuade me to lower my gaze. As if he senses my distress, Nicky takes a seat beside me. The lean solidity of his thigh presses against mine.
Roman leans forward to open the laptop on the coffee table between us. “What I’m about to tell you is confidential and must never leave this yacht. Do we have an understanding?” As he talks, he taps on the keyboard.
“Yes.” I nod and curl my fingers into fists, trying to prepare myself for the surprises ahead.
He turns the laptop around to face me and scrolls through a series of drone photos. “This is Valentina’s compound, or what’s left of it.” A charred pile of ash, broken beams, and cement foundations litter the ground where the house once stood. The tropical paradise is now a decimated war zone. I stare at the wreckage, waiting for relief, finding none, and hating her for it. “She’s been a blight to the underground for a decade. I’ve tolerated her because she’s been useful to me in the past, but after what Nicky told me about her depravity, I had no problems using my resources to take her out.”
He swivels the laptop screen to face him and types in a few more commands before turning it back to me. My stomach twists. This time, it’s a live video of Valentina in some kind of small white cell. I gasp. A shudder shakes my shoulders. She paces back and forth in front of a cot, her movements hindered by shackles and handcuffs. Her hair is ratted, her face bruised and swollen from the broken nose I gave her.
Nicky slides his fingers through mine. “Don’t worry. She can’t get to you.”
“Where—” My voice cracks. The walls of my throat are dry, like I haven’t spoken in years instead of minutes. “Where is she?” I cling to Nicky’s hand, drawing strength from his touch.
“Downstairs in the hold. I have a guard outside her door. She can’t escape.” Roman leans back, resting an ankle on the opposite knee. Tendrils of smoke curl around his head. “Now, the question is—what do you want me to do with her?”
“Me?” I lick my parched lips and glance at Nicky. “You’re asking me?”
He nods, pulling my hand onto the top of his thigh. His gaze holds mine. Truth and reassurance soften his eyes. “In my family, justice is a personal matter. When someone wrongs us, we deal with it on our own terms.”
“Well—” I stare at the broken woman in the live feed. Her agitated pacing reminds me of a caged tiger. Memories come flooding back. The abuse. The torture. The psychological scheming. Her threats against Jagger, Milada, and the death of poor Luis. Anger builds in my blood, rising from a simmer to a boil. She’s evil incarnate. This time when I answer, my voice is confident, strong. “What are my options?”
“We have a few choices.” Roman nods like he understands, and maybe he does. According to Nicky, his family was executed by insurgents. He understands revenge as well or better than most people. “She has many enemies in the drug world who would love to have her. The CIA, DEA, and FBI are eager to make an example out of her before the next round of federal elections. We could give her over to any one of those groups.”
“Personally, I think we should tie an anchor to her feet and drop her overboard,” Nicky says. Hatred roughens his deep voice. His fingers tighten around mine. I glance up at him through my lashes. A muscle twitches above his jaw. The sight of Valentina affects him, too, reminding me that I’m only one of her many victims. She has to be punished. I squeeze his hand. Our eyes meet. His lips twitch into a humorless smile.
“I want her to suffer.” It’s an ugly confession, but I’ve never claimed to be a good person. “I want her to dread each day. I want her to feel the way we did.”
“Right. Well, there’s a third option.” Roman clears his throat and glances at Nicky. An unspoken conversation passes between the brothers, as if seeking and receiving permission to divulge a dark secret. “I have an acquaintance who runs a prison in Russia for people like her.”
“Prison is too good for her.” I’ve never felt this way before—so ugly inside, and I blame her for the intensity of my dark emotions.
“This isn’t your ordinary facility,” Nicky adds.
“No. The conditions are—rough. The most heinous of underground criminals are held there. They have only their most basic needs met. And the warden is, shall we say, unconventional. They use inmates for the testing of interrogation methods. She would be held in solitary confinement for the rest of her life. No human contact outside of the experiments. Nothing but concrete walls and silence.”
Nicky releases my hand to pull up a website on the laptop. The facility is an ancient fortress on top of a desolate mountain surrounded by peaks of snow and ice. “This is hell on Earth.”
“I’m not sure.” I bite my lower lip. The wound on my arm stings. Every muscle in my body aches from Valentina’s mistreatment. For the rest of my life, I’ll carry her monogram on my hip. She’s marked me for eternity, body and soul. I lift my eyes to Nicky. “What do you think?”
“This is your choice,” he replies, brushing his thumb over the back of my hand.
“I was faced with the same kind of decision once.” Everly steps forward, clinging to her husband’s hand like he’s a lifeline. Her voice reminds me that we’re not alone in the room. “Before you make a choice, there are things to consider.” A deep sadness c
louds her features. “Right now, you’re probably angry and hurt and itching for retribution. In time, those feelings will fade and change. Ten years from now, you might not be the same person you are today. The choice you make needs to be one you can live with. This is more about you than her. Being merciful isn’t a weakness. It shows strength of character and the ability to break the chain of cruelty set forth by your enemy.”
“Whatever you decide. No one will judge you.” Rourke rubs a hand along Everly’s back. “And no one outside this room will ever know.”
Valentina stops pacing and turns to face the camera in her cell. Any traces of beauty have dissipated. There’s no audio on the video. She opens her mouth in a silent scream. But her eyes are what get to me. They’re still flat, black, and empty. Those vacant eyes remind me how it felt to be locked away with no hope of escape. A small glimmer of satisfaction begins to unfurl. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“You have until morning,” Roman replies. “We’ll be landing at my private island tomorrow, and I want to finish this business so I can enjoy a little downtime with my family.”
“That’s very generous of you.” I flick a glance at Nicky. His expression is smooth and unreadable. I’m not sure how he feels about the situation. “I’d like to talk to her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Roman shakes his head, his hair brushing the collar of his shirt with the movement. He stands, takes the laptop from the table, and snaps the lid shut.
“She can handle herself,” Nicky interjects. “If that’s what you’re worried about. She took out Viktor with a paring knife.”
Roman stares at Nicky, eyes widening. “Is that so?” His words hold a grudging note of respect. “I always hated that bastard.” Then he shrugs. “I’ll have one of my men take you down there. But not tonight.”
I don’t think I can sleep knowing the devil is somewhere on this boat. Nicky voices my thoughts. “Tonight is better.”
“Suit yourself.” Roman tucks the laptop beneath his arm and heads toward his wife. He bends to kiss her. “No more work this evening. I promise.”
“Good.” She beams at him and brushes his hair away from his face.
“Thank you.” Words seem inadequate for the rush of gratitude swelling inside me. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you. Especially after what I’ve done.”
“There is something.” His ominous tone brings a feeling of dread along with it. I turn to face him. His dark eyes meet mine. “Nicky tells me that you’re an expert at breaking and entering. We recently had a breach of security at my England estate. I’d like to sit down with you sometime and discuss ways to prevent something like this from happening again.”
Roman doesn’t know that I was the one to rob his manor house. My gaze flits to Nicky. His eyebrow twitches, but his face remains expressionless. He didn’t tell on me, another debt to be repaid. I place my hand over his and squeeze.
“Sure. I’d be happy to help you in any way I can.” It’s the least I can do in light of recent events. In time, I’ll tell him the truth, but not now. Not tonight.
“And while you’re here, I’d appreciate it if you stay in your cabin unless accompanied by one of us.” The gravity of the lines bracketing Roman’s mouth make my stomach twist.
“What the fuck, Roman?” Cold fury turns Nicky’s chiseled features into the frightening man who followed me home from the bar. “She’s been chained up in a garden shed for two days. The last thing she needs is to be locked up again. Have a little compassion.”
“Roman, I think you’re—” Rourke jumps into the conversation but is silenced by her husband’s raised hand.
“We don’t know this woman. Not really. Until I have a thorough background on her, I’m obligated to protect us.” Although his words make sense, shame washes through me. This is another example of how I don’t belong in this world. “How much do you know about her, anyway, Nicky? I mean, truly know? You’ve been acquainted for all of what? Three weeks?”
“That seems a little harsh,” Henry comments.
“I know enough. She’s the bravest, most intelligent woman I’ve ever met.” Nicky inches forward until he’s nose-to-nose with his brother. “She did what she had to do in order to survive. Something you should relate with.” The two of them glare at each other, a study in masculine hostility. “I won’t stand by and see you treat her like a prisoner when she’s been a victim from the very start.”
“You have to admit, Nicky, that you’ve never been a good judge of character. If it was up to you, we’d have a boatload of prostitutes and strippers onboard tonight.” Another wave of shame shakes my self-confidence. In Roman’s eyes, I’m worthless.
“I remember a time when you loved a boatload of hookers,” Nicky replies. Testosterone thickens the air. Everly and Rourke exchange worried glances. Henry frowns.
“You don’t have to defend me, Nicky.” The anger and frustration over Valentina’s mistreatment come tumbling out, and it’s all directed at Roman. “For your information, Mr. Menshikov, I was a stripper and a prostitute.” I refuse to continue feeling shame for my past. “Not by choice, but because my pedophile stepfather forced me into it.” Danger flashes in Roman’s dark eyes. I keep talking because I’m done being intimidated by rich fucks like him. “When someone holds a gun to your head, the lines between wrong and right tend to get blurry. Not that I’m excusing anything I’ve done. I’ll be the first to admit that my poor choices led me to those situations. I can only hope to do better in the future. But I won’t apologize for who I am.”
“Careful.” Roman lifts an eyebrow in warning. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“I don’t care if you’re the King of fucking England.” My voice grows louder with each word. I curl my fingers into fists, desperate to control my fury. Tears burn my eyes. I place a hand over my heart. “I’m not a piece of trash. You might not think so, but it’s true.”
Nicky wraps his arms around me. I bury my nose in his chest, fighting to halt the sobs building inside. “You’re worth a million in my book.” His hand strokes my hair. The brush of his lips tickles the top of my head. “Sweet girl.”
Stunned silence blankets the yacht. I focus on my breathing. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. I’m so close to coming unhinged. Valentina would be thrilled to learn I’m broken beyond repair. Maybe forever.
“Are you finished?” A muscle twitches in Roman’s cheek.
“Yes.” My pulse settles back to a normal rhythm. I refuse to apologize for the outburst, but I need to make them understand, for my sake as well as Nicky’s. “Wait. No, I’m not done.” Passion vibrates in my voice. “You have no idea what that psychopathic bitch put us through. What she put him through.” I place a hand on Nicky’s cheek. He stares down at me, his gray eyes soft, filled with tenderness. “He endured tortures that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. To keep all of you safe.” I make eye contact with each person, starting with Everly and ending with Roman. “He sacrificed his self-respect, his dignity, his body—” Reviewing his actions tightens my throat to the point of pain. “For you. And you’re treating him like he’s a fool. Maybe you need to take a long look in the mirror, because he seems like twice the man you are right now.”
Roman stares at me. I stare back, lifting my chin, daring him to say one more insulting thing. The seconds drag past. When I don’t blink, the tension drains from his expression. He sighs and sinks into the nearest barstool. “You’re right.”
Rourke’s eyes widen. Something like a smirk twists Nicky’s lips. Henry and Everly don’t even try to hide their smiles. I’m not sure why they’re so amused, because I’m pissed beyond measure.
“I apologize, Ms. Jones. I’ve had a gun held to my head a time or two, and it truly does make morality seem dispensable.” His fingers tap on the back of the couch. “As for Nicky, I’ve known him a lot longer than you.”
“People change. Especially when they’re faced with adve
rsity. Maybe you need to stop seeing him as the person he was and start recognizing the man he is today.” My gaze flicks to Nicky. His gray eyes watch me with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. “Because he’s a hero to me, and I’ll forever be grateful to him.”
“I had no idea what you’ve done, Nicky.” Everly’s voice is thick with emotion.
“You should have told us.” Rourke’s forehead crumples, like she’s about to cry.
The unplanned expenditure of emotion has sapped the last of my strength. I exhale, needing to be alone and collect my thoughts. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well.” Part of the weakness in my knees is from the freedom of expressing myself after so much time at the mercy of someone else’s whims. The rest is from Nicky’s stare. I don’t care what the others think of me. Just him. No matter what happens next, at least he’ll know how much I appreciate him. I turn toward the exit.
“Wow. She told you, mate,” Henry says to Roman, applauding. “Nicky, that girl is a keeper.”
Twenty-One
Nicky
Calliope disappears into the hallway. I stare after her, dumbstruck by her words. A hero? Me? The implausibility is comical. Roman’s furrowed brow suggests he doesn’t believe it for a minute, and Rourke’s open mouth reinforces my assumption. The only person to entertain the idea places a hand on my shoulder.
“Is it true?” Everly’s large eyes brim with tears. “You put up with that bitch for years to protect us?” I stare at the moonlight sparkling on the water, unable to meet her gaze, and shrug. “Thank you. So much. I’ll never be able to repay you.” She wraps her arms around me, holding me close. I hug her back, surprised by the way her embrace affects me. In my ear, she whispers, “I always knew you had a good man inside you.”
“Damn it, Nicky. Let go of my wife.” Henry’s tone holds equal notes of warning and humor. He wraps an arm around the both of us. “If you don’t go get that girl of yours, I’m going to do it, and then I’ll have to make polygamy legal in Androvia.”
The Ruthless Knight Page 14
