I ignore it in favor of a wooden dining chair with arms. A bed is too much of a temptation, and she might misunderstand my intentions. I prop her gently in the chair and cut the zip ties off her wrists. I bind her arms with a pair of silk ties. Then I do the same thing with her feet. When I’m done, she is stirring but still limp, held upright by her bonds.
Gently, I caress her soft curls away from her face.
“Wake up,printsesa.”
She stirs. A low moan comes from her lips. My cock twitches eagerly. She is no child anymore. That tight black tank top reveals her generous breasts, and the black pants hug her hips and thighs. Bad luck for me, it isn’t a skirt. We could have a great deal of fun together like this.
I know she felt it that night at her birthday party, even if she was too young to understand what I meant. Beyond slipping thesecurity passkey into her sash, I didn’t touch her. I wasn’t as successful at scaring her off as I had hoped.
Now, though she’s dressed for serving drinks rather than a party, she is more beautiful than ever. She should be dressed like a queen, not a servant. Her dark lashes lay thick along the curve of her cheek. Her lips are soft and full, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. It was in a ponytail when I saw her working. Somewhere between the bar and arriving here, the elastic band fell out.
“Hailey.”
Her name feels light on my lips. Once, I thought hers was the same as the comet, but the asteroid is actually called Halley’s. Still, the association stuck in my mind. The way she came into my life like a bright star, full of innocence. Shimmering and bright. I stared in wonder—then watched her disappear again, just as quickly.
“Wake up,printsesa.You have a wedding to attend.”
Finally, her eyes flutter open to reveal striking green flecked with gold. She straightens with a gasp. I tell myself I’m not offended at the way she recoils from my touch. Lying to myself.
“Whose wedding?” she gasps.
“Yours.”
4
HAILEY
Iblink away the cloud of confusion in my mind. What little control I have over my tongue disintegrates as I take in my predicament—I am tied to a chair after having been drugged and kidnapped by my onetime stepbrother, a bratva boss.
“Who’s the lucky groom?” I spit, testing the bonds. He’s got me tied up good. He drags over another chair and sits on it backward, his arms resting across the top of the backrest.
“I am.”
I laugh. I don’t care if he’s hotter than sin. I am not getting married on his, or anyone else’s, orders. Blearily, I glance around. The chloroform, or whatever he used to knock me out, is rapidly wearing off. This apartment has a sterile lifelessness to it that reminds me of a fancy hotel room—the kind Mom used to clean.
“You think this is joke?”
I’d forgotten how sexy his accent is. His English is excellent. Dmitri sent his son to a fancy boarding school. I know that much from before. Dropping indefinite articles from a sentence is a sign that he’s losing his temper. God knows I used to test him whenever possible. Still, the way he pronounces his r’s andreplaces s-es with z’s, creates a velvety buzz in the back of my brain that courses down my spine. Or maybe that’s just theabject terror at having been kidnappedtalking.
“I think you’ve lost your mind if you think I’ll marry you.” This has to be some sort of weird dream. Therefore, only dream logic applies. If I can fight hard enough against the absurdity, I’ll wake up, probably with a piece of hair glued to my mouth with drool and one arm dead from paresthesia.
“Would you rather die?” Rafail asks, as if this is a casual conversation.
Again, I laugh in his face. “Really? You’re so desperate for pussy that you have to hold a woman at gunpoint to get her to marry you?”
His slight smirk disappears. I’ve made him mad. He rises, the chair creaking in protest, as he shoves it aside and grabs my chin. “I told you I am the only one who gets to defile you. Unlike my sire, I protect my family. You are family.”
“Not anymore, I’m not. Mom divorced Dmitri?—”
“You will never say that again. He allowed her to leave because she asked him to. Her disloyalty broke him.”
Fury explodes in my chest. “Mom was loyal to him until the day the cancer took her. She did it to protect me, and it killed her. Where were you all that time, Rafail?”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. His fingers tighten on my chin.
“Am I supposed to look away while you go around criming and murdering people?” My words come out garbled from the way he’s squishing my lips. His grip actually hurts. I stare into his amber eyes, unrepentant, despite the way my heart hammers against my ribs.
“If you want to live.” He releases me abruptly and moves to the wall, where he yanks open a hidden closet. Despite myself, my breath catches. Hanging inside is a white gown with a sash and crystal beading. Almost an exact replica of the one I wore tomy sweet sixteen party, but with long sleeves. “You have thirty-six hours to accept.”
