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“Grab that.” I didn’t say Roman’s name. I wouldn’t give them any information that they didn’t need.
Silently, Roman lifted the bag and almost stumbled. I would have to add in a lot of core and arm work for him when he trained.
Roman turned to leave, but I grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around to face the enemy. “Never turn your back on anyone, son.”
A knowing look flashed in the leader’s eyes, and he gave me a head nod. That was like saying I was dismissed in my world. We backed out.
Once we got outside, I let out a sigh of relief. That could’ve ended much worse.
“Can I ask questions now?” Roman finally spoke.
“Yes, you did good. What is it you want to know?”
He drew in a deep breath as if gathering all his courage. “Well, what is it you do?”
“Are you sure you’re ready to hear?”
He nodded, gravely. “I think I need to know.”
“Well, I am the eldest son of the current Pahkan in the Bratva. Do you know what that means?”
Roman shook his head no.
“It means that I’m basically a wicked man. A mafia man although we don’t call ourselves the mafia.”
“A-are you going to kill me?” Roman asked.
“No, I'm going to train you.”
“To do what?” He sounded braver.
“To be wicked like me.”
With a nod, he dropped the subject.
Now all I had to do was wait to see if Roger would come through for me. If he could, then I could finally take my littlemalishka.
Soon she wouldn’t be able to run from me. Not now. Not ever. I’ve found a woman who would bear my heir. The one I would keep until I no longer had need of her. She would be my incubator. My whore. My goddess. Anything and everything I wanted.
I closed my eyes imagining her body beneath me as I filled her again and again with my seed. This time she would know that I was breeding her. She would fight and say no, but I would still be victorious.
I could almost taste the victory. Too bad the spoils of war were covered in blood.
SLOANE
Sloane
“Run, run, run as fast as you can,” his haunting voice echoed off the mountain’s walls.
This nightmare again. Always the same.
I couldn’t escape the MC. I tried. I ran as far and as fast as I could out of town, hoping they would let me go. That I would be allowed to leave and start a new life. Instead, Josh and his goons brought me back, kicking and screaming.
They’d set me back into the middle of town and forced me to do unspeakable acts. I’d been whipped in public. The whole town came out to watch my beating. The MC owned them, so it was no surprise. Watching me getting tortured was hard for some to watch and easier for those who wanted to see me falter. They wanted my pain and suffering. All because my father had tried to turn things around. He hadn’t wanted to sex traffic women or sell drugs to children.
And people hated him for that.
As soon as they released me from the center of the town’s square, I ran away from the scene that was reminiscent of the Salem Witch Trials. The judgement. The torture. The condemnation. I fled to the wilderness.
