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I met his gaze. “Just do it already. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be anyone’s possession, ever.” His stormy gaze fixed on me, and in that moment, the cold got the better of me. I hugged myself, but that didn’t help quell the despair clogging my chest. He looked down at me as though I was the most insignificant creature in the world.
“Unfortunately for you, none of this is up to you. Right now, you should be dead along with your mama and papa, Marinka,” he growled, his tone even. Controlled. His eyes turned to slits. “Maybe one day you’ll beg me to kill you.”
2
Four weeks later…
Sebastian
I rockedthe glass in my hand before bringing it to my lips to empty the contents. Setting it back on the bronze coffee table, I swirled the smooth liquid, letting it wet the walls of my mouth before pushing it to the back of my throat.
The liquor left an oak taste on my tongue and I hissed out a satisfied groan. Immediately, the tension in my system dissipated. On occasions like these when I had to meet a capo, I could always count on aged Irish whiskey to put me in a better mood.
Behind me, Marco, my most trusted bodyguard, asked if I wanted a refill.
“No.” I pushed the glass away, leaned back on the couch, and perched my legs on the table. “Get the girl. I need her here with me.”
Since arriving at the penthouse, she had been spending an awful lot of time in her room like a hermit. I didn’t specifically instruct her to hide her face whenever I was in the house but I had a feeling it wasn’t out of terminal introversion. Rather, I suspected it was her small act of rebellion.
At first, I let her be, feeling a tad charitable after a particular deal struck me some sweet gold. It always helped my disposition when business went well—just not so much that people stopped fearing me.
There were also moments when some tiny voice inside me would tell me it wasn’t her fault. That her father had done the deed and she had nothing to do with it. But I quickly squashed that impostor of a voice. After all, I was pretty positive I didn’t have a conscience, nor had I ever.
Plus, there was no place for rebels in my kingdom.
This foolishness had gone too far.
Usually, I checked the cameras in her room several times a day and most of the time, she was either staring at the wall or sleeping. I would lose interest and do something else. But today, it was out of sheer luck that I caught her naked, looking at herself in the mirror with something like … curiosity … in her eyes. Or was it desire? She ran a hand over her skin, from her bellybutton to below the small curve of her breasts, feeling herself as though she was learning something in that simple, sensual act. Her body glistened and her hair was wet, showing she’d just come out of the shower.
She wasn’t doing anything special; I had seen hundreds of naked women before. I’d fucked just as many. But the sight of her had my cock stir in my pants as though it had a mind of its own. Another act of rebellion I didn’t care for. I was always in control. Had to be.
But I allowed myself a moment of pleasure. Looking at her touching herself, the innocent Marinka I knew her to be—yes, I’d watched her over the years—both shocked and thrilled me. So she had a naughty side. There was more to her than I imagined, interesting things tucked away deep inside her. Maybe this was a sign I had to watch her more—to find out what she was hiding.
She stood at that mirror a long time, studying herself. At one point she touched her breast, passing her palm lightly over her nipple. Fascinated, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, so when my phone buzzed with some random notification and woke me from the trance, annoyance tugged at my consciousness.
Fuck, this woman wasn’t supposed to be even a distraction. She was just a pawn. A means to an end.
Luckily, it was just a craving that needed to be slated. That was easily remedied. Maybe this frumpy, clueless girl would find out what real pleasure felt like one day, if I let her.
Still, I would go as far as to give a limb to know what she was thinking in that moment. Dammit.
Marinka was making it a mission to push my buttons as retaliation for kidnapping her. At first, the fear in her eyes had been unmistakable. But when she’d sat on the yacht and told me to go ahead and shoot her, that she didn’t care, her gaze unflinching, I’d felt something akin to … admiration.
She had balls.
And I didn’t like that. I didn’t like that one bit. She was the daughter of an enemy—the very man who’d killed my wife. And now, she had the audacity to treat me likesheowned me, likeshecontrolled what happened—not me.
A month in and I’d had enough. Hadn’t she learned anything when I shot her father in the leg? I could point the trigger at her forehead anytime if she kept up the charade, and I was perfectly capable of pulling it. No one defied me and got away with it.
Luckily for her, I had to hold off ending her life too soon. Somehow, she was still useful to me. Although, come to think of it, she was not doing a good job of being Russina’s replacement, nor was she likely to be. Marinka couldn’t fill my dead wife’s shoes even if she spent all her life trying. For starters, she carried herself like an angsty teen, not a businesswoman. As far as looks went though, she was the split image of her.
The sound of approaching footsteps halted my thoughts. I looked up to spot a timid figure standing a few feet away. Disheveled, long blonde hair covered half her face and she was playing with the hem of her ridiculously oversized sweatshirt. Christ, what exactly had her mother been doing with her life if not instilling some fashion sense in her daughter?
Sensing my gaze, Marinka slowly lifted her chin and tossed a tuff of hair aside. Languid brown eyes stared back at me and I was instantly pissed. Even in her predicament, she still managed to look likeher.How dare she!
The way her eyelids moved lazily before landing on a subject, the determined gaze she fixed on me when she was wrestling with her conscience, the way her nose curled when she was pretending to be disgusted. It wasn’t just her appearance but some of her mannerisms as well. The two were too damn alike. It was like every time I looked at Marinka, I found a new feature that reminded me of Russina.
This couldn’t go on forever. I just had to tie up a few more engagements first then find a woman of Russina’s caliber. In the meantime, I was going to straighten the wayward individual standing in the middle of the room. Help her grow the fuck up.
