AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bold footsteps call my attention to the room’s single set of double doors, and I bite my tongue as I turn my eyes to see who’s coming. It must be a decently long hallway they’re walking down because it takes them a good amount of time to reach the room, their clacking shoes striking fear into my heart with every echoing step.
The doors swing wide a moment later, two more militant-looking guards giving the smartly dressed woman a grand entrance. I would guess she’s in her mid-forties, and she holds herself like a woman of power. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face in a tight French roll, accentuating the streaks of gray that fan out from her temples like feathers before blending into her black hair.
Her pinstripe pencil skirt and matching navy suit jacket scream quality–as does this home, which I would assume is hers. Whoever she is, she comes from money, and she knows how to spend it right.
“Leave us,” she says with authority, flicking her fingers in a dismissive gesture.
“Yes, Matron,” one man says, and the four well-muscled men disappear into the hall without another word, closing the doors behind them.
They respect her–or at least, don’t question her authority. They certainly don’t test it like Maksim did, the leader of the men who kidnapped us. Whoever she is, she’s who wants me here. ThisMatronordered that I be taken.
“Miss Bianka Popov,” she says blithely, her Russian accent smooth and precise, showcasing her familiarity with the English language, even if it’s not her native tongue.
She doesn’t bother addressing Ellie or even giving her a second glance. No, her gaze lands on me without question, so she must know me by sight. My stomach quivers at being so unquestioningly exposed. Despite the intense wave of anxiety crashing through me, I keep my back rigid and straight, doing my best to appear calm and confident.
“Tell me, Bianka, how much do you think your brother loves you?” she purrs, standing confidently before me.
Cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck and slicks my palms in an instant. So thisisabout Ilya.God, please don’t let my head end up shipped back to him in a box.
The woman pauses long enough that she must expect me to answer, but I remain silent. Nothing I say will help this situation, and it could definitely make things worse. But that doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.
With casual grace, she strides closer to me, and a long, perfectly manicured fingernail hooks beneath my chin, tipping my face up to meet her gaze.
“You are a pretty one, aren’t you?” she murmurs, her steely eyes sharp with intellect. “I bet your brother would pay a pretty penny to get you back.”
The intense knots in my stomach loosen slightly at that. If it’s money she wants, Ilya will pay it, and that means he’ll expect me to be delivered home in one piece. I just might survive tonight, after all.
I can only hope this woman tries to ransom Ellie as well. I’m sure my brother would bring her home, too, if the woman offered. Not to mention her own father would pay an arm and a leg to keep her safe.
“I plan to ransom you to Ilya,” the Matron says casually, releasing my chin to lean against her polished-wood desk. A wicked grin spreads across her painted lips as she crosses her ankles and leans back on her palms. “He will have to give up his territory if he wants you back alive. What do you think? Will he go for it?”
Lead drops in my stomach, making me feel sick.Ilya would pay any amount of money to protect me, but to give up his territory?I’m far less confident. “I’m not sure,” I confess quietly, my eyes dropping to the authentic Persian rug with intricate and colorful patterns set in a deep crimson background. “The Shulaya Bratva is his life.”
The woman gives an amused chuckle, her hand finding a desk ornament to fiddle with. “That’s kind of what I suspected you would say, but it’s not a loss to me either way. I’ve done battle with Ilya before, and I know how to cut him off at the knees.”
My eyes snap to the woman’s face, and my heart pounds forcefully against my ribs, suddenly desperate to escape my body. “You…?” I gasp, realizing just how precarious my situation just became.
This woman must be part of the Temkin Bratva–related to them in some way. They’re the ones who came after my father years ago, shooting him in cold blood. A common enough end for apakhan, but still an act of war that turned my brother’s life on its head and mine along with it.
The Temkin started a brutal turf war with my brother that spanned years as they attempted to take Ilya’s territory. It was ugly and bloody–at least from what I could gather from eavesdropping on my brother’s meetings–and Ilya went months at a time without sleep to bring it to an end.
My brother’s rivals proved ruthless, their tactics so nefarious, that they had to be destroyed. Ilya managed to wipe them out–more than once, since they kept coming back. Like a hydra, it seemed every time the beast was dead, another head appeared.
They killed Artem and countless other Shulaya men. And then Ilya… they gunned him down from a getaway car without batting an eye. Eight bullets the surgeon removed from my brother’s back.
But now the Temkin was supposed to be dead. That car full of gunmen was the last of the Temkin. Cassio’s brother Nicolo interrogated them to be sure and then killed them all. That was nearly a year ago now, and my brother hasn’t heard a whisper of them since.
“Yes, me,” the woman boasts, her face haughty as her lip curls into a sneer. “I’m the one who will finally put an end to this ridiculous rivalry. I will claim the territory my nephews failed–foryears–to take control of, and then I will kill your brother for good measure. He’s proven himself far too great a nuisance.”
Fear stokes my anger, and violent hatred bursts to life inside me. “You’ll never kill Ilya,” I growl. “He’ll hunt you down and chop off your sticky-fingered hands.” I snarl, squirming against my restraints.
The woman laughs, though it lacks mirth, and the tone is ringing cold and cruel.
“What do you want with his territory anyway?” I demand. “Looks to me like you’ve got plenty of your own.” I scan pointedly around the room and out the window to the darkness beyond.
The Matron’s gray eyes glint as she approaches me once more and stops a few feet away. “Honestly, I could care less for your brother’s empire, but then he went and killed my nephews, and that, I can’t abide. So now I’ll take it from him just for spite.”
My stomach knots painfully as I realize this woman isn’t ambitious or greedy. She’s vengeful. And after watching Ilya spend years seeking vengeance for our father’s death, I know how dangerous someone with retribution on their mind can be.
