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I always thought I would like objectifying her. I thought it would feed the sadist in me and more than once jerked off at the thought of caging her. But now that I’ve actually done it… now that she’s on her knees, helpless and bound and apart from me… it doesn’t feel the way I thought it would.
A few minutes later, Maksym and Flip show up, still wearing their clothes from the night before, and I realize then they never went to sleep. Something important has happened. Something that impacts all of us.
I let them into my suite and shut the door behind them, standing still in the boxing shorts I wore this morning while I pounded the punching bag to alleviate my anger. But even with them fully dressed and me wearing nearly nothing, they bow their heads out of respect.
I’ve earned the trust and respect of these men. I’ve led them in battle and forged our way as the most respectable brotherhood of Bratva in Russia. I need to keep that trust. Whatever happens next bears weight.
Maksym clears his throat.
“We’ve been trying to unearth everything we could. About Amaranov, and his people. Because oddly, when Calina made that call, things started to fall into place.”
What? How?
Calina had something to do with Amaranov?
“Amaranov has two sons,” Maksym say. “Though you would never know it from the media’s reporting.” It’s true. I frown. The only mention of Amaranov’s family is of his wife. I didn’t know he had any sons.
“One son went rogue, according to what we know, years ago. The second was the man who ambushed us. The one who killed Anatoly. The one who went rogue is the man Calina called.”
I blink in confusion. I don’t understand.
“What does this mean?” I ask.
“The man she called. He goes by the name of Glen Gustav now. He’s off the grid and hard to track, but our sources say he was once Glen Amaranov.”
I pace the room, running my fingers through my sweat-slicked hair.
Has Calina’s betrayal run further than I gave her credit?
“Was he in touch with his brother?”
Maksym shrugs. “We don’t know. I’ve sent Vladak to ask him questions.”
I pace the room, mulling this over. Calina is in love with Amaranov’s son. Was her coming here no accident? Has Amaranov himself orchestrated this?
She’s been dishonest, and Amaranov is not to be trusted.
“Call Vladak,” I order. “I want point by point details as this goes down.”
Filip takes out his phone and dials Vladak, who picks up on the second ring. Filip switches it onto speaker.
“We’re here with Demyan. Give us a status update,” Filip says.
“Demyan.” Vladak addresses me first.
“I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”
“How did he—” his voice trail off. “Christ. Oh, God. He’s got—no, it can’t be. How could he? I have to go.” His phone cuts off.
I swivel to Maksym. “Find him,” I order. “Send back up. Go as quietly as you can, and tell me exactly what’s going on. I want to know. I want to know now.” I exhale. “While you do, I will extract whatever truth I can from Calina.”Chapter 18I hear him speaking with his men outside the room, but I can’t understand anything they say. My stomach growls with hunger, and I’m thirsty, but my physical needs seem secondary to my need to make peace with Demyan. To have the man who pledged vows to me the night before return. The door opens, and when he walks in, I see nothing has changed. In fact, if possible, he looks even angrier than before.
When he reaches the cage, he unlocks it, swings the door open, then grabs me by the cuffed wrists, and drags me out. I scramble, trying to get out quickly so it doesn’t hurt. He uncuffs me. The chain falls to the floor with an ominous clang as he stands me in front of him and grasps my chin in his hand, dragging my eyes to him. Demanding I don’t look away.
“Why are you so angry?” I whisper. All I did was call my friend to check on my sister. I’ve done everything else he told me. Everything.
“You betrayed me,” he whispers. “You lied.”
How much does he know? How much do I tell him? I shake my head. I’ve paid my debt honestly and given him nothing but devotion. Why would one call to my friend make him so angry?
“Tell me about your affiliation with Amaranov,” he spits out. I’m so surprised by this that I blink at first, unable to respond.
“What?” I whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he says, his voice tight. “You called his son yesterday. Why did you call him?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t call his son,” I say.
Releasing my chin, he shakes my shoulders. “You did,” he says. “Don’t lie to me, Calina.”
