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When I heard yelling, I went to the doorway to see the commotion.
What I didn’t expect to see was a short man in a white jacket, and two of Alexie’s men guarding the door so said man could not escape my room. The guy being yelled at wore a chef’s hat.
Alexie barked at the man in Russian, the chef replied, his tone haughty and sure. The argument escalated. Even though I don’t understand what’s being said, my eyes couldn’t stop bouncing back and forth between the two verbally sparring.
When the chef went off in a tirade, Alexie’s eyes narrowed. I gulped and hugged the bathroom door’s frame, trying to hide myself better. Even I was not stupid enough to use that tone of voice with him.
“Mudock!”Alexie shouted.
The chef reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a wooden spoon, which he proceeded to fling-throw at Alexie. The red-stained utensil bounced off Alexie’s hard muscles before it landed on the floor at my captor’s feet.
Alexie looked down at the slight smudge on his shirt, and for the first time since I met him, he appeared taken aback. I wanted to clap my hands. What a brave little man. Couldn’t be me. I wished I had the balls to put that asshole in his place.
Alexie spoke low, his tone menacing. Goosebumps formed on my arms. The heated, turbulent atmosphere of the room suddenly turned ice cold, and heavy with quiet foreboding. Like the calm before a violent thunderstorm.
The chef threw his hat on the floor and stomped on it, then pointed a finger at Alexie like he was threatening him. Alexie moved like lightning. The gun was in his hand and at the chef’s forehead in a mere blink.
Bang.
I screamed.
The chef fell to his knees.
Blood poured out.
Alexie’s shirt was covered in blood splatter and brain matter.
I had to be in shock. Because that’s the only reason that made sense for me leaving the safety of the bathroom to join Alexie and the dead chef. Tears filled my eyes, and I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Why?”
Alexie looked at me then back at the body with disgust. “He was supposed to be one of the best Russian chefs in the States. But if that were true, you wouldn’t think someone drugged your food. You probably shouldn’t have eaten it, but welcome to the Bratva.”
“I never said—”
“Uh-uh-uh. You did, my littlemalishka.”He moved his bloody hand toward me, and I flinched when he stroked my cheek. “I think the word you used wasmedicinal.”
“Oh, God.”
He pulled away and removed his soiled shirt. He tossed it on the dead body. “Get this out of here,” he said to his men. Then said something in Russian.
My nerves were shot. That had to be why I was trembling. My heart hammered in my chest, and I held as still as I could. If I didn’t make any sudden movements, he wouldn’t hurt me, right? Isn’t that what prey did when near a predator?
My captor grabbed me by my upper arm and dragged me into the bathroom. He slammed the door with a loud thud and pushed me back upon it.
Alexie pinned me against the wood and leaned forward, sniffing my neck. “I love the stench of fear on your body,” he growled. He nipped my ear.
Whimpering and wishing that I was anywhere else but here, I willed my hands to stay at my side even when instinct wanted me to shove him away. I tried to imagine myself on a tropical island beach. A paradise. I closed my eyes, envisioning the waves.
“Don’t check out on me now, my sweet. Not when things have gotten so…bloody.”
My eyes popped back open to see him regarding me. “Do you really think the food was laced?” My head felt like it was back under a pool of water. I was sluggish.
“Of course, it was laced. But you should not have been able to detect it. That’s why the chef is ruining my carpet as we speak with his disgusting carcass. No matter. I will hire a better chef. For now, I just want to taste you, touch you.”
“What did I do to deserve this?” I croaked, my eyelids fluttering. At this point, I was just exhausted. It was hard to keep eye contact when all I wanted to do was rest.
“You intoxicated me.” He pressed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’ll give you the world if you let me,” he swore.
I must be drugged, I mused, because that was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. And as I stared into the depths of his psychotic gaze, I felt like I was falling in love.
