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I turn and gaze at him with a serious expression. “Speak your mind. I won’t lay a finger on you.”
Mikhail flashes me a dark look. “You’re sick. That’s what I think.”
I pat his shoulder. “I don’t need you to like it. I need you to keep your mouth shut and help me when I need you.”
“Yes, please. I’d love to help you fuck your niece.”
“Marry my niece,” I correct him.
“Don’t bullshit me. I don’t even think you’re that interested in her. You just want revenge against your brother, so you’re going to fuck that girl just to hurt him.”
“Yes. I am going to fuck her, and there’s not a thing Troian can do to stop me. But that’s not all. I’m going to possess her. I’m going to consume her. And you know what?”
“What?”
I get to my feet and put some bills down for my bourbon because I have places to be this morning. Not one second of Zenya’s life is going to pass without her seeing me, thinking of me, craving me.
I straighten the lapels of my jacket and adjust the silver rings on my pinkie fingers. “She’s going to love me so hard I’ll be all she can think about.”
6
Zenya
Iwake to the sensation of pressure on my mouth and sit up with a gasp. There’s no one in my bedroom. I stare around at the carpet, the curtains, the closed door, and run my fingers across my lips.
I’ve had that dream before, that a man has taken my face in his hands and kissed me, but it’s never been as vivid as it was just now. I felt the briefest press of his lips once, and it awoke a burning hunger in my body that rages as I sit here trying to catch my breath.
There are keys sitting on my bedside table. My car keys. I never leave them there, so why—
I remember.
The warehouse.
Andrei, Radimir, and Stannis being murdered in front of me.
A stranger in black killing my attackers, and then oh-so sweetly persuading me to reward him with a taste of my body that quickly spiraled out of control. Coming back down to earth and removing the blindfold, only to see that it was Uncle Kristian between my thighs.
I put my hands over my face and moan. The ancient Greeks wrote tragedies like this. The Belyaevs are filled with hubris, and now we’re being taught a hard lesson to make us humble again.
I throw the covers off and swing my feet out of bed. I haven’t got time to think about that right now. Mornings are my busiest time of day.
Doctor Nader told me that I should try to walk around on my foot today as long as it doesn’t cause me too much pain. Carefully, I put weight on my injured foot. It hurts, but it’s bearable, and I hobble to the bathroom.
I take a shower, dress in jeans and a tank top, and scoop my hair into a ponytail. Downstairs, the house is still silent as I turn the coffee maker on and open the blinds in the kitchen. The sun has just risen, and I get to work packing school lunches for my brother and sister, Arron and Lana; Chessa’s kids, Felix, Noah, and Micaela; and finally, Nadia and Danil, my half-siblings. Then there are seven breakfasts to prepare, and while I set the table, I hear Arron and Lana calling for the younger children to get out of bed.
A few minutes later, Lana is sleepily twisting her fingers through her silvery blonde hair as she takes a seat at the table and pours herself some cereal. She notices I’m limping and frowns.
“What happened to you?”
“I tripped last night.”
“What were you doing last night?”
A vision of a stranger dressed head to toe in black bursts into my mind, looming over me as I lay on the sofa in that warehouse. I can still feel his chest muscles against my palms. Hear his soft murmurs in my ear and feel his lips moving against my sex.
You smell delicious, Zenya. I’ve always wanted to know…
Always wanted to know. He definitely said that.Alwayswanted to know. What the hell does that mean, Uncle Kristian? Always wanted to know what I taste like?
