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“Yes,” I nodded. “You have to take me back, please. He’d go to great lengths to find me and the earlier he sees me, the better.”
“Better for who, malysh?”
Exasperation spread over me like wildfire. “You. Me. All of us.” I closed my eyes, trying to hold back every punishment I’d endured. I could only imagine what he’d do to me now. “Please, take me back.”
“No.”
My eyes widened at the man nearing me. He halted when he was close enough to tower over me. “Malysh, I own you now, and if you should fear any man, that’s me.” He was right, even my papa had not attained the type of reputation he had, notoriously ruthless, torturous. I’d say he had been too kind to me. “You do not get the freedom to choose anything until I say so. Do you understand me?”
Evil. That is the only word I’d use to describe Andrei. But somehow, his threats were more comforting rather than terrifying. I knew physical pain and internal anguish to a fault and I doubted anyone would surpass the hurt my own father had inflicted on me, not even the king of hell himself. “Yes.”
“Good. Now sit.”
Like the good little girl he wanted me to be, I lowered myself onto the vanity. I was just about to ask Andrei if perchance he’d ever met my mother when a delicate feminine voice sounded in the hallway. “Andrei!”
Pure disgust took over Andrei’s face as if he recognized the voice well enough to know she probably was someone he didn’t want around—or maybe that is what I wished for, that it was someone he didn’t want around.
“There you are.” Her voice notified the room of her presence before she even entered. Vanilla and jasmine perfume followed her inside; it was the kind of scent that would knock out a person to sleep, giving them the sweetest dreams.
She was wearing designer two-piece pants and a top, a pair of red heels, and had long dark hair that reached her ass. I wish I could say I missed my long hair; I really didn’t, but seeing her long raven hair made me wonder if Andrei preferred women with such hair. I sighed as I spotted my shoulder-length white hair in the vanity mirror.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she hugged Andrei, completely ignoring my existence. I didn’t like her at all, and it was not because I was jealous. Her beauty and bright aura did not intimidate me that much, did they?
“When did you return to New York?” Andrei asked, breaking off their hug.
“An hour ago, thought I should see you first.” She giggled like a teenage girl meeting her crush for the first time.
“You should have gone home to your father first.”
“Why? What’s wrong with paying my fiancée a visit first?”
Fiancée? My widened eyes met Andrei’s before he gripped the woman’s hand and dragged her out of the room, the same way he dragged me to the room.
It was silly of me to think that a man like Andrei—rich, handsome, and in his forties—would still be single. Even if he was, I was thick, while there were lots of slim women in the world, like his fiancée. I did not like him, but I also didn’t stand a chance with him if I did.
Who am I kidding? If an option like that existed, why would he choose to be with the daughter of his rival when he could have any woman out there? It was a good thing he didn’t, not like I would have chosen to be with him either. I sighed and drew my attention back to the cupboards in the vanity, failing at my attempt to erase the last minute from my memory.
The whole scenario turned to acid that burned my chest to the extent that I was feeling physical pain for no reason. Taking out a brush from one of the drawers. I started brushing my hair while thinking of the different possible ways I would kill Andrei Levov.
Chapter 8 - Andrei
I should have anticipated how wild Adrienne Paolo would drive me before I considered holding her captive. The image of her full breasts bouncing up and down as she moved made it hard for me to think straight, and it took me thinking about bloody dead men and chopped body parts to keep myself from spanking her well-rounded ass when she turned around.
Fuck, thinking about it again was enough to make my cock hard and needy. With an ass like that, it was not a surprise how Adrienne was able to seduce some of my men to their deaths. I had a feeling I’d have ended up killing them if Dante did not beat me to it, the same way I wanted to erase the memory of everyone who was standing in the hallway when she came out of her room.
Seeing her on that staircase with a black thong and arms wrapping around her breasts made me want a personal painting of her, a painting only I could see because I’d be damned if anyone else saw my little Adrienne naked again. God help me, I might have to kill them, and I didn’t give a fuck if one of them was my brother.
The sound of my name rocked me out of my dirty daze. I’d forgotten Camilla was standing right here with me. I’d dragged her out of Adrienne’s room and outside to the foyer because I didn’t want her infecting my sassy-little malysh with her nastiness, yet I’d still forgotten all about her presence because Adrienne’s soft ass swaying side-to-side in those tiny panties wouldn’t stop tormenting me.
I’d only met Adrienne twice, but her presence already overpowered the presence of every other woman I’d seen naked or fucked. Like this whiny brat in front of me.
“You didn’t tell me your next whore would be Dante Paolo’s daughter,” Camilla said with her hands folded over her chest. “Tell me, does she fuck better than I do?”
Anger lingered in me. I hated Camilla referring to Adrienne as a whore, especially since Camilla was better qualified for that name. “Why? Do you have the intention of improving your skills by fucking half the men in New York?”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, as if you also haven’t fucked half the women in New York.”
That was an exaggeration on her end; it was obvious she wanted me to speak of my sexcapades so she could fuel her hope once again. I wasn’t going to do that. “I’m sure your number exceeds mine by far.”
