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“You came under my protection, under the protection of Clan Petran. No one will ever harm you. Ever.”
At her sharp inhale, I looked down and realized I had clenched my fist, didn’t doubt that my face reflected the vehemence I felt. Silence reigned as I stared at her before I finally said, “So what did I say?”
“You said that I am under your protection and the protection of Clan Petran. That no one will ever hurt me.”
I nodded approvingly. “And know this: I always keep my word. If he touches you, even looks at you wrong, he will pay with his life.”
After a few tense moments, she nodded and then looked out the window. “We’re here,” she said.
* * *
Fawn
I didn’t recognize the huge gated house we drove up to, but I knew what awaited me inside. There were several limos gathered in the circular driveway and twice as many menacing figures milling around, some with small machine guns. It could have been a gathering of senators, business leaders. Some of them, especially David, liked to think of themselves as such. But it was a facade, beautifully crafted but fake. The danger and misery beneath that facade was not.
As we exited the limo, I tried to calm my pounding heart and prayed David wouldn’t be here, though I knew without a doubt that he would. I also tried to choke back the desire to grab Vasile and hide behind him, beg him to take me away.
Instead, I settled on admiring him. His suit fit perfectly, the jacket cut to show the breadth of his shoulders, his trim waist, the light gray color a perfect complement to the brown of his hair and iciness of his eyes.
It was so different than his usual attire, though I couldn’t say better. There was something honest about the way he usually dressed. It told me he didn’t pretend, that he knew what and who he was and didn’t need to hide behind clothes. It was impressive, a quality I had rarely seen. One I deeply admired.
A spark of desire flared in my stomach as I reflected on that, watched him move with ease and grace and comfort as if he had no question about his place in the world. As annoyed as I’d been, as nervous as I’d been, as nervous as I still was, the attraction toward him, the desire that, as insane as it was, he always stoked in my body hit me like a sledgehammer, made me wish we were anywhere but here, but not to avoid the situation. So I could be with him, feel his strong, powerful body above me again, inside me again.
He glanced at me, and I looked away quickly, feeling a deep flush of embarrassment, though I had no way of knowing if he could tell the direction of my thoughts. I faintly heard the click of heels and turned toward the sound and met Natasha’s gaze. Her little knowing smile told me she was well aware of what I was thinking, and I couldn’t help but grin at her.
That little interlude having relieved some of the tension that had twisted in my stomach, I sped up to stand next to Vasile, feeling almost confident.
“Welcome, Mr. Petran,” a tall, thin Hispanic man said in greeting when we reached the double front doors.
“Vargas.” Vasile gave the faintest nod but did not lift his hand. The other man didn’t seem deterred, and instead waved his extended hand to welcome us in. Fortunately, he didn’t even glance in my direction.
We entered a grand entryway with an enormous crystal chandelier and then continued to a large dining room that held a sixteen-seat table, one that was filled by women like me, each more beautiful than the last, showpieces for the array of dangerous-looking men they accompanied.
But all of them, even Vasile, Natasha, and Sorin seemed to disappear when I met David’s eyes. He smiled brightly, looking almost like the charming man that had initially won me over. But there was retribution in his gaze, a promise of payback for the embarrassment he’d experienced, though none of it was my fault. It seldom had been, but that had never insulated me from punishment and wouldn’t in the future.
I flinched ever so slightly when Vasile touched my arm, and for a millisecond, his face turned down in a frown. But he recovered quickly and led me down the long table and sat directly across from David, his eyes never leaving the other man. I sat next to him, trying to remember what Vasile had said, trying to remember David had no power over me anymore.
A warm hand grasped mine, and I looked at Natasha, saw her faint smile of encouragement. It didn’t stop my pounding heart, the almost disembodied feeling that my light head created, but I appreciated the effort.
The next hour was excruciating. I didn’t meet David’s gaze, but I could feel his eyes on me, and the fear that he’d instilled came back automatically. I wasn’t close enough for David to touch, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t unnerved.
And Vasile wasn’t helping. He hadn’t looked at me, seemed completely disinterested in me, in everyone around him, save Vargas and David. I followed his lead as Sorin and Natasha did, not eating or drinking or speaking, a silent island in the sea of joviality.
The other guests laughed and drank, all acting as if everything was well, but the undercurrent of tension in the room was unmistakable, and it soon reached the breaking point.
“My food not good enough for you, Mr. Petran?” Vargas finally said.
He sounded friendly, like this was jocular teasing, but the lowering volume in the room, the sudden ratcheting of the tension made the seriousness of the question undeniable.
“We aren’t hungry,” Vasile said.
Which wasn’t a complete lie, at least not for me. I couldn’t have eaten a thing, even if forced.
“Fair enough. But you, your brother, your guests,” he let his eyes linger on me momentarily before looking at the bar at the opposite side of the room, “drink with me.”
“That’s a great idea, Vargas,” David said, his eyes glued to me. And with each word he spoke a fresh dose of ice and terror raced through my veins. “Offer Mr. Vargas’s guests a drink, bitch,” he said, mirroring the words that had started this all.
I went to stand, instinct telling me to comply or face the consequences.
