by Winter Fox
Not even Ilya?
We arrived at Mariusz’s room, and Anatoli opened the door for me; before gesturing that I go inside. I stepped into the ornate room—the scene of Mariusz’s brutality—and stood in the middle of the floor, looking and feeling quite forlorn.
My heart sank when Anatoli followed me inside, clicking the door closed behind him. I narrowed my eyes at the brute before me, and I adopted a defensive stance, with my feet set slightly apart.
He obviously noticed my pathetic attempt at defense, and he snorted a hard laugh. “If I wanted to, you couldn’t stop me.”
His accent was light, just like Ilya’s—making me even more certain that these two men had walked very similar paths in life.
I remained where I was, watching the large man carefully as he chose a chair, and sat down comfortably. He nodded toward the bathroom.
“Go and get showered.”
I hesitated, not even wanting to take my clothes off in the next room while this man sat here waiting for me.
Anatoli sighed dramatically, before standing back up and crossing the room to where I stood. He looked down at me with a dark smirk on his face as he pinched my chin between his fingers.
My hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at my sides.
“Raise one of those tiny little fists, and I’ll strip your fucking clothes off myself, then drag you into the shower. You were told to wash the scent of the Lieutenant from your body. So, go and fucking do it.”
I glared at him for a moment longer; before turning away to stalk into the bathroom. I slammed the door behind me, and slumped against it in relief when he didn’t follow me.
Living in a house full of monsters was becoming emotionally exhausting.
17
Ilya
He watched Anatoli escort the girl from the room, and he felt something like relief. Anatoli wasn’t a good person—he was actually a master in the art of torture—but she was a hell of a lot safer with him than she ever would have been with Sava.
Ilya’s dark eyes flicked back to the man who lurked angrily in the doorway. It was obvious that Sava was furious about having the girl snatched from his filthy grip once again. But Ilya knew that it would only serve as motivation for him to keep on trying.
It was inevitable that Sava would get a hold of Liselle at some point. And Ilya was absolutely certain that the evil bastard would make every single second count when he did.
“What am I going to do with you, Lieutenant?” Mariusz’s voice dragged Ilya’s attention back toward him.
Mariusz was leaning his ass casually against Ilya’s desk. He had brought a bottle of premium vodka with him, and he tipped his head back to take a long drink—eyeing Ilya with suspicion.
Ilya didn’t reply; instead firing another glance in Sava’s direction. The korol was about to humiliate his Lieutenant, and Ilya really didn’t want the dick at the doorway to have a front row seat.
“Sava, piss off.” Mariusz didn’t even look at Sava. And Ilya bit back the smirk which played on his lips.
Never one to disrespect his korol, Sava bowed his head obediently; before stepping out of the room, and closing the door behind him. Now that they were alone, Ilya knew the real fun would start.
“You’ve never taken a woman to your own bed, in the whole time we’ve been here, Ilya. Why this one?” Mariusz asked, with deceptive calm.
Ilya wished he’d put on a T-shirt. He felt at a disadvantage in bare feet, and with his broad chest still naked, while Mariusz was squeaky clean and freshly showered. Ilya still smelled of Liselle, and of the musky tang of sex.
“I don’t think she should be a plaything for the Five, when she’s supposed to be marrying their korol.” It was half truthful.
“She’s not yours to make that decision over.” Mariusz’s voice lifted in a pitchy tone at the end of his sentence.
Ilya needed to consider his responses more carefully.
“No. But I don’t want people to disrespect you because they think that you can’t control your men. Particularly Sava.” Ilya spoke calmly.
Mariusz pushed himself off the desk, stalking across the room like an angry beast. “The only man who I don’t appear to be able to fucking control is you, Ilya,” he roared.
Standing his ground, and glaring down at the man in front of him—the man who called himself their king—Ilya wanted to drop all reason and control. He desperately wanted to kick the shit out of Mariusz. But for as long as his mother and sister were caught like rats in a hole, he would do nothing.
Mariusz was counting on it.
“I did nothing that I wasn’t given permission to do, korol.”
Ilya caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye, as Mariusz pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans. The older man’s eyes darted left and then right; filled with a madness that was terrible to behold. “Mad” Mariusz Sokolov had earned his name justifiably well.
The tip of the barrel came to rest against the center of Ilya’s forehead. “On your fucking knees, Lieutenant,” Mariusz growled.
For a brief moment of lunacy, Ilya considered taking the gun from Mariusz, and putting every single bullet into his korol’s chest. He wasn’t afraid of killing men—he’d lost count of how many he had killed. But if he indulged this fantasy, he knew that his family would follow Mariusz to the grave within the hour.
Filled with bitter rage, Ilya slowly lowered himself to his knees; knitting his hands together behind his head in a display of complete submission. Mariusz kept the gun pressed firmly to Ilya’s forehead.
“What are you playing at lately, Ilya?”
Closing his eyes, and letting the barrel of the gun support his head, Ilya replied. “I don’t know what you mean, korol.”
“I should fucking shoot you. Then I should make that bitch come in here and clean your brains off the carpet.” The gun twitched.
Ilya knew that he needed to talk Mariusz down from his mood. This wasn’t going to turn out well for anyone otherwise. He tried to get through to the mad man.
“Mariusz, we should be discussing Carlos Ruiz right now. And we should be considering telling Dante that the Colombian was here. I’m here to support you, not fight against you.”
Mariusz didn’t seem to be listening; instead he crouched down in front of Ilya, so that their eyes were level. The gun stayed firmly planted between Ilya’s eyes though—it was all about power. And Ilya knew that the only way Mariusz ever felt as though he had power over his Lieutenant was when he was armed.
Probably because that was the only time that he ever had the upper hand.
“Your little friends in Siberia have been poking around a hell of a lot lately. They think they’re being so clever, Ilya. That I don’t know they’re there.”
Shit.
Ilya’s eyes flew open.
So that was what the last few weeks had been about. Mariusz knew that Ilya had men in Russia trying to find a way to pull his family from under the korol’s nose. How the fuck was he going to talk his way out of this one?
“Mariusz—” he began.
“Nyet, Ilya.” The older man cut him off. “You think that you can spirit your family out of Yakutsk without my men knowing anything of it?”
“No. I sent my men to watch over my family, not to move them.” Ilya was so tense his muscles were in agony. All it took was one call from Mariusz right now, and his mother or sister would die. And the korol had murder in his eyes.
“I don’t think I believe you, Ilya.” Mariusz spoke so quietly, Ilya had to strain against the gun to hear him.
Ilya felt sick. “Mariusz. You have my loyalty. You have my life. I will die for you. But, please, don’t hurt my family?”
Mariusz laughed. “I like it when you beg, Lieutenant.”
“You need me,” Ilya ground out, through clenched teeth. His mind flooded with images of him ripping this man’s head off.
Tilting his head left then right—like an inquisitive bird—Mariusz replied. “Maybe I
do. Maybe I don’t.”
He felt the tiniest tremble run through the gun from Mariusz’s hand, and he shivered. There were only two reasons why Mariusz would tremble. Either he was afraid—which was probable. Or he was so angry that he had decided he was going to pull the fucking trigger.
Ilya closed his eyes again, waiting for the shot that had been inevitable for almost his whole life. Ever since he first chose to walk the path to who he had become.
When he felt the gun lifted away from his head, Ilya breathed out a long sigh of relief through his nose; before opening his eyes. Mariusz was standing just in front of him, but the gun was still pointed at Ilya’s face.
Almost blind with rage, Ilya started to stand. “Nyet.” Mariusz’s gun hand twitched in a warning. “Stay on the floor, like a good solider.”
“What do you want from me, Mariusz?” Ilya had never before knelt for anyone in his life, and he hated the feeling it gave him.”
“I want you to call your little pack of wolves out of Siberia. Your family are not going anywhere. I’m not a fucking idiot, Ilya, I know that I only control you through your family. Without the threat of what I might do to them, you’d take me apart.”
Ilya looked up from the humiliating position he had been forced into. “You’d do well to remember that in future, if you do ever feel the need to kill them. Once they’re dead, I have nothing left to live for, korol.”
Mariusz stared along the barrel of the gun. Eyes of liquid insanity flicking from side to side, across Ilya’s face.
“I only need to kill one of them to hurt you, Lieutenant.” Mariusz narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “In fact, killing one might just show you how serious I can be.”
“Killing one might just send me over the edge, korol.”
The men eyed each other with absolute, unbridled hatred. This was the same stalemate that had plagued them both for eight torturous years—and both men knew without doubt that it would end up with one of them dead before too much longer.
With one last quiver, Mariusz finally dropped his gun hand; quickly slipping the weapon back into his waistband.
“I’m going back to Colombia with Ruiz. He wants to show me his operation, and I want to see it for myself. I leave shortly.”
And just like that the tension in the room diffused. They were back to being the king, and his outwardly loyal soldier.
“Do you want me to come with you, korol?” Ilya asked. His place was always at Mariusz’s side.
The mad man grinned. “Nyet. I’m going to take the other members of my Five. You can stay here and babysit my fiancée.”
It was meant as an insult. There was nothing worse than being left behind to look after a woman while the others guarded the life of their korol. But Ilya had to struggle to conceal the smile of satisfaction which came unbidden to his lips.
He could almost taste the flavor of her already, unable to control the twitch of his cock as he thought of bringing her back to his bed while Mariusz was away, and fucking her over and over again.
Ilya shook his head in confusion. He had just been forced to kneel, with a gun pointed to his head by the man who owned his life, and all he could think about was sinking his cock back into that warm body.
Fuck, he had issues.
“If that’s what you want, korol.” He spoke respectfully.
“It is.” Mariusz looked down at Ilya’s kneeling form, before turning to head for the door. “Now, I need to go and say goodbye to my fiancée.”
18
Liss
I did enjoy my time in Mariusz’s power shower, despite looking over my shoulder every few minutes—terrified that Anatoli would follow after me. But he didn’t, and I was grateful that I managed to finish my shower in peace.
When I was done, I stepped out in to the steamy bathroom, and wrapped a fluffy white towel around my body; using a comb to detangle my mane of hair. I put the same vest and jogging pants which I had just stripped out of back on, because there was no way in hell that I was going out into that room wearing just a towel. Then I padded back through the doorway into Mariusz’s bedroom.
I was relieved to see that Anatoli must have left while I was in the bathroom. But then my stomach suddenly wrenched at the thought of being here alone with Mariusz. Whatever he decided to do with me was going to hurt, I knew that for certain. It was not going to be like it was with Ilya.
I sat down on the massive bed, and sighed as my mind wandered back to last night. I had no idea what had happened between Mariusz’s terrifying Lieutenant and me. But the one thing that I did know was that he hadn’t hurt me in the way Mariusz had. In fact, he had only done everything I had asked him to.
I blushed. How had he managed to take me to a place where I couldn’t find it in myself to say no to him. I had wanted him—all of him. And if I was completely honest with myself, I still wanted more.
The door clicked open, and Mariusz sauntered into the room. He was carrying a half empty bottle of vodka, and I rolled my eyes in disgust. It was only eleven-thirty in the morning.
“Wipe that fucking look off your face, Liselle,” he snarled.
I jumped in shock at his rebuke, and looked quickly down at the floor instead. Not wanting to meet those mad eyes with my own. He slammed the door closed behind him, and crossed the room until he was standing in front of me. His hand shot forward, and his fingers cruelly pinched my chin; tilting my head back so that he could look down on my face.
“I just made your lover kneel on the floor with a gun to his head. I almost shot him. Would that have upset you?”
“No,” I managed, through my squished-up lips.
He leaned down until his nose was almost touching my own. “Why? Because he forced you to fuck him?”
My smart mouth was too quick for my brain to stage an intervention. “No, because he forced me to fuck you.”
His hand came from nowhere, in an open-palmed slap which knocked me backward against the soft mattress. My hand instinctively flew to my throbbing cheek, and I knew I was going to have a bruise.
Mariusz placed the vodka bottle on the floor, and climbed onto the bed above me. His hand quickly found my throat, and he squeezed hard; cutting off my precious air supply.
“Did Ilya tell you that he likes to hurt the women he fucks? Did he choke you while he made you come, Liselle?”
I shook my head back and forth as I clawed frantically at his hand. Desperate to take a breath. He saw how much I was struggling, and he loosened his grip on my throat ever so slightly. It was just enough to enable a tiny huff of air to find its way into my burning lungs.
“Do you know why I think my Lieutenant didn’t hurt you?”
“No,” I croaked.
“I think he likes you.”
I blinked at him in surprise.
“I think Ilya is quite taken with you, Liselle. And do you know what that means?” He lowered his body against my own, pressing me deeper into the bed.
“No,” I admitted.
Gently—almost as though he were my lover, and I was the most precious thing in his world—Mariusz leaned forward to lay a chaste kiss against my lips. Then he pulled his head slowly back until we were staring into each other’s eyes.
“It means that you have the potential to become a weakness for Ilya. And I could really use that to my advantage right now.”
I stared at “Mad” Mariusz in silence. Not really knowing what to say. He brought his hand up to my cheek, teasingly stroking his fingers across the red mark which his hand had left on my skin. Then, without warning, he leaped off the bed—grabbing my wrist and pulling me up to stand facing him.
“So. You’re going to go back to your new lover.” He reached out to hook my bottom lip with his thumb, pulling it down teasingly as he spoke. “Let him take you into his bed while I’m away. Let him use you, abuse you. Fuck, let him hurt you in the way that I know he craves to.”
“Why,” I whispered.
Mariusz grinned, and his blue eyes burned wit
h cruelty. “Because once he finds a place in his life for you—a place that only you can fill—it will hurt him immensely to lose you when I take you away, Liselle.”
I frowned, curiosity overcoming my fear. “Why do you want to hurt him? I thought he was your friend.”
He seemed to really consider the question before he answered me. “I think that’s a question you should ask Ilya, not me.”
I will.
My mind suddenly registered that Mariusz had said he was going away. “Where are you going away to?” I asked him.
He smiled darkly, before cupping his hand to my cheek. “I’m touched that you care enough to ask, Liselle.”
I don’t.
“I’m going to Colombia, to see if Carlos Ruiz will make me an offer I can’t refuse. I’m taking my security team with me. Except for Ilya, of course.”
I hadn’t been heavily involved in our family business—barely at all in fact. Alessio had seen to that. But I knew enough about the various players in our game to know that a visit from Mariusz, to Colombia was going to piss Dante Garcia off royally. I’d met Dante once before, when he was visiting my brother, and he had been terrifying.
“Is that wise?” The words came out of my mouth, before I even realized I was going to speak.
Mariusz laughed. “Oh, Liselle. Are you going to play the dutiful wife, and adviser? If you think that I’m going to fall for that shit you’re mistaken. I know you hate me. I know that you don’t want to be here.”
I glared at him. I had absolutely no intention of denying the accusation. But if it bothered him, he didn’t show it. Laughing softly, he took hold of my shoulders, and turned me around to face the door. Giving my ass a hard smack as he spoke.
“Now, go back to Ilya, and spend some quality time with him while I’m away.”
Desperate to escape, I headed quickly for the door, raising my eyebrows in astonishment. I had been sure that he was going to rape me again.
Something in my posture must have given away my surprise, because even though he could only see my back, he spoke suddenly.
