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“Then we’ll have our source keep a better eye on the movements of the brothers.” Arkady tenses his jaw and points a finger at the man across the table. “And when we strike again, we’ll be better prepared.”
I walk away, feeling a crushing worry bore into my chest. They tried to kill Viktor and someone inside the Mikhailov Bratva is passing information to Arkady. I slump against the metal counter, feeling helpless. I want to warn Viktor, but how can I do that when I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again?
The man accepts Arkady’s point. They exchange farewells and he leaves through the front door. Arkady turns back to me as soon as the man leaves. He puts on the same nauseating expression he had before the other man interrupted him.
I walk to the back kitchen and try to appear busy, turning on the faucet to clean dishes that were already cleaned last night. Arkady doesn’t fall for it. He knows how many customers this cafe has as well as I do. None.
“And?” he asks with an obvious motive in his voice.
“What?” I snap back. There’s only so much creepy behavior I can stomach in a day.
I feel his hand wrap around my arm before he spins me around. “I told you I want you as my woman.” He grabs one of my breasts in his hand, squeezing it like he’s wringing a sponge. He presses himself against me, leaning me backwards over the sink behind me. I feel the tip of his cock jabbing into my thigh as his grip around my arm tightens.
“Don’t you want to be a spoiled princess?” he asks.
I try to push him off me but he leans harder, rubbing his shaft against me. It reminds me of creep with the tattooed scalp I was dancing with the first night I saw Viktor. I narrowly escaped death for slapping him across the face because Viktor was there to save me.
“If you tried to make me yours, I’d bite your cock off,” I say to Arkady.
I can feel his erection softening. He pulls away and shoves me backwards.
I lose control of my breathing, thinking there’s a good chance I’ll die for even saying that much.
Arkady shoots me a hard look, nodding his head. “I know,” he says in a joking tone. “You’re off limits.”
Off limits. Why do I keep hearing that phrase?
I bolt upwards. Maybe he knows about Viktor.
He swings a step towards me, grinning as I shrink back.
“Your father made quite the bargain for you,” he says. “You should thank him, because otherwise my men and I would have used you ten times over by now.” he turns on his heel and walks to the back door, pausing in the doorway.
“Tell your father I wish him good health,” Arkady says in a sarcastic tone before walking out into the cold.
When he leaves, I scramble into the dining room, trying to get as far away from him as I can. I hear his car engine rev and see taillights shine at me as he drives off. I cup my hands over my face and blow a few cycles of breaths into them to help calm me down. It helps somewhat, but as soon as I start thinking the panic returns.
I look at the floor by the front door and notice a red spot. I narrow my eyes and walk towards it to investigate. More red spots appear as I get closer. I stand over them and recognize what they are.
Why are there red footprints all over the floor?
I step around the table and notice they’re only coming from one side of the table. There are no red footprints on the side Arkady was sitting.
I get on my hands and knees, lifting the tablecloth to look underneath. The rug is red, but in other areas the red looks to be a deeper color. I press my hand onto it and feel wetness. When I lift my hand, it’s coated and smells like blood.
Lines of someone’s blood drip off my hand as I fall back in horror. The door to the cafe opens behind me. I turn and can only see a man’s leg walking inside, followed by a blunt pain to the back of my head followed by darkness.
Chapter9
TATYANA
Agonizing ringing in my ears brings me back first. The noise is like a piercing fire alarm, shrieking and fading with each pump of my heart. I try to move myself, but still can’t coordinate my limbs enough to make progress. Sparks flicker in my eyes as they twitch below my closed lids. The sound of a muffled voice, as if someone is trying to speak through a gag, brings me back to some level of orientation, but not quite full consciousness. Distant footsteps echo through the halls of… wherever I am.
The more I wake up, the more coherent the words in the distance become. Panic arouses me when I realize this is not a hallucination. There are other people here.
“... look at you, dying for loyalty like a fool.”
Someone is pacing back and forth. I can hear their footsteps increasing and fading in a cycle.
