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“Where are we going this time?”
“Spa resort in Napa. You’ll love it there.”
Debatable. “Let me guess, we’ll be the only guests?” Me, him, and a handful of bodyguards.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. People pay big bucks for exclusivity like that.”
Exclusivity or isolation? My shoulders slumped. I was a twenty-one-year-old college student who was no closer to making any friends or connections than when I was a sickly teenager who lived on the cancer ward.
2
KATYA
I dropped onto my bed and watched Olga fuss over packing my bags. Over the years the housekeeper, who ruled the mansion with her surly iron fist, had become my close confidant. She made me feel like part of the family, as if I belonged here. Which was why it hurt whenever Kristoff sent me away. Even though he’d assured me it was for my safety, I couldn’t help but feel cast out.
I went to my chest of drawers and reluctantly packed my backpack. I tossed in my Swiss Army knife, of course. It had been a Christmas gift from Damon, the tactical brother of the crazy twins. My e-reader and a few paperbacks followed.
“Go. Leave alone.” Olga shooed me away as she filled my suitcase for me.
“I’m not leaving this time,” I assured her, still hoping to persuade Kristoff to let me stay.
She said something unintelligible in Polish. I didn’t need to ask. Her look of pity said enough.
The mansion had become both my haven and my cage. I squared my shoulders. It was time to take the bull by his horns. Either I was a member of this household as Kristoff had promised, and I could stay…or I wasn’t.
Getting Kristoff to change his mind on something was like a delicate operation. I’d discovered that it was best to lay the groundwork first.
Step one was to get his right-hand man, Viking, on my side. I remembered the first time I set eyes on that hulking guy. Everything about him screamed anger and danger. During my first few weeks in the mansion, I gave him a wide berth, afraid that he would use any excuse to unleash his perpetual rage on me. It turned out that I couldn’t have been more wrong; Viking was more Scandinavian teddy bear than berserker. Who knew all it took was a box of cupcakes to reveal the soft man inside of him? That didn’t mean he couldn’t be an anal asshole just like Kristoff, but he was more pliable.
My sneakers squeaked on the newly waxed marble floor. Staff buzzed around, getting the place in tip-top shape. The fresh scent of furniture polish hit my nose, just as I noticed two people on a ladder cleaning the chandelier. They seemed anxious being up so high, much like I felt as I made my way to the lord of the manor.
As expected, I found Kristoff in the gym, smashing his fists into a punching bag.
My breath caught as my eyes roamed over his powerful biceps that were slick with sweat. Tall, muscled, and powerful, he was the fantasy of every woman. More specifically, my fantasy, even though he didn’t give me the time of day. To him, I would always be that girl who was dropped at his doorstep by her mother. He’d promised to take care of me, and that was that. Unlike popular belief, mobsters were very trustworthy and always kept their word. At least, that had been my experience so far. Now if only I could make him promisemesomething.
“Are you just going to keep standing there all day?”
I hadn’t noticed the punching had stopped. Kristoff had turned around, his gloved hands at his sides. He looked at me warily.
“You know why I’m here.”
I put some confidence in my step and walked up to him. He stretched out his arms toward me and I started taking off his gloves.
“And you know my answer. You’re not staying here during a gathering.”
“I don’t like your answer.” Putting my weight into it, I finally released his left glove.
“Tough.”
I hated it when he went all curt and high-and-mighty on me. Sometimes I thought he did it to spare me the memory of that first gathering, and I loved him for it. Other days I believed he sent me away because I was a burden and I hated him for that.
I gestured at the ring in the center of the gym. “I could fight you for it,” I suggested, eying a set of batakas attached to the wall.
If there was one thing the men in this house loved, it was betting against each other. Another was to train the ‘puny girl’ to kick some ass. As it was, I was desperate enough to challenge the warlord.
“I would crush you.”
My eyes narrowed. I hated being underestimated. Having battled cancer most of my teen life, I loathed people diminishing me. “I kicked Ulgar’s ass,” I reminded him.
