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“Well, are you going to stand there all day?” he calls. His voice is deep and gruff by nature, and his tone is pointed, maybe even a little irritated.
I step inside the room, and he gestures for me to take a seat in front of him. He tells me to close the door as I come in. I don’t want to. My instincts are screaming at me to stand by the door ready to flee in case something happens. However, I follow his instructions obediently. It’s better to play along; challenging the boss over even the smallest of things could potentially make life hell for me.
Andrey unbuttons his suit jacket as he positions himself to halfway sit atop the desk. I try to act unaware of the way he is eyeing me. I feel put on display for his enjoyment alone, like a private gallery for him to ogle at. Something shifts inside of me at the realization. An irritation comes on so strong that it alters my fear ever so slightly. It’s that grotesque stare of his that reminds me he isn’t some otherworldly figurehead my childhood built him up to be. No, he’s just a man. One that has a history of making me want to crawl out of my skin—which says more about him than me, since the last time I laid eyes on him, I wasfifteen.
Still, even with my little flurry of courage, I’m scared. Andrey is not just a cruel man, he has the power and resources to do anything he wants. He can take my life without so much as a second thought, and no one would ever bother to avenge me, not with the state my family is in right now.
“My, my,” he grins. “I have to say, the years have been so,sokind to you… You’re absolutely radiant. With this beautiful blonde hair, eyes as blue and deep as the ocean, and skin as fair as the moon itself… you’ve always been like out of a fairytale, but now—well, you are more like a fantasy.” As though it can’t get any worse, he chuckles a hollow bout of laughter, and adds, “Oh… What was that nickname I used to call you?Annabiotics, wasn’t it? Because your smile can cure any ailment?”
“Yes, you are a true creative genius for that one,” I grumble and soothe my skirt, batting away invisible dust. “Now can you get to the point of why I was called here?” I want to be assertive, to take a semblance of control over the situation. However, my voice fails me. Even to my own ears, I sound strained and meek.
Andrey’s eyes shine with intrigue, apparently viewing my words as a challenge as opposed to anything else.Thankfully.“What’s the matter, sweet Anna, have I happened to catch you in a mood?”
His incessant need to call me some sort of pet name is nauseating. I retort quickly, not to get caught up in my thoughts, “I think anyone in my position would be‘in a mood’if they were called to the house of a Don without explanation.”
Immediately, I internally curse myself. While I want to assert myself to attempt to demand some respect, my voice came out snippy. The last thing I want to do is throw attitude his way. He’s not a man to sass.
My nerves are raw. Talking with him feels like navigating a mental minefield. You never know what step could be fatal. Do I assert myself to not be his plaything, or do I fold into his whims and risk angering him?
The hand that isn’t cradling a cigar clasps over his chest and his brow droops. “I have to say, I am hurt —no,wounded— that you are behaving in such a way. Acting as though I am nothing more than some pest on the street. And to use Italian terminology in this beautiful Irish home!” heexpresses himself in a tone that suggests it is the worst heartbreak of his life. He follows the sentiment with a tutting sound as he shakes his head side to side. “I have to say, sweet Anna, after all that trouble I went through to get Sean to attack your abductors… I was expecting a little more warmth from you.”
His choice of using the wordwarmthmakes me itch with discomfort. I can’t help but imagine that he is trying to convey physical touch, as though I would owe himanythingfor a favor I didn’t ask for. Besides, nothing about him saving me back then had anything to do with me yet everything to do with motives for which I was a pawn instead.
I hate it, but even the mention of the abduction brings flashes of it back to me.
Hands all over my body as I go from the hands of one set of abductors, to what feels like another. Squealing tires as a car attacks the Levines— my original abductors— we had been heading back to their place.Vanessa, my friend, had a terrified expression on her face as I was snatched away. I'd never met any of the men before, but it didn't take a genius to figure out who they were. Knowing I was in the hands of my father's associates should have made me feel better, but it didn't. Even if you didn't ask for it, a favor from the mob always came at a cost.
And the moment I realized the men weren't Robinsons, but Mullens… Andrey had to have had something to do with it. The last man I wanted to owe anything to. The man who had wanted me in heinous ways since I was far too young.
As my breath threatens to hitch, I let out a long sigh to cover it up and keep my composure.Fear. Don’t let him notice your fear.
“Yes, I meant to send you a thank you card for almost getting my friend killed,” I fire back at him with the sweet hum of sarcasm to my voice. The Mullens practically killed everyone in the car with me that night. “I’m not so naïve, Andrey… That had nothing at all to do with me. It had everything to do with your desire to kill Ethan Levine, in hopes of getting the Levine clan to fall so the Robinsons could take over the market.”
The mock hurt drains from his face, and it is replaced with an ear-to-ear grin. He claps slowly and chuckles, “Bravo, Anna. Who knew it was possible to have beautyandbrains? It’s a rare combination indeed. Even rarer these days given how distracted the world has become. Though, I suppose that works to our benefit, doesn’t it? A distracted world pays no mind to what is going on beneath its skin.”
“I wouldn’t group us alltogether,” I mutter, despite my best efforts to soundbrave. I don't want to be associated with his organization or anything remotely related to it; however, I am because I am my father's daughter. He is the only reason I'm sitting here instead of running for the hills. Andrey's eyes are narrowing again, and I'm struggling to keep my cool. Frustration and terror may be fighting within me, but discomfort is the most dominant emotion I am feeling. It's so powerful that I begin to wonder if my soul will eject itself from my body just to get away from here.
Andrey takes notice of my fidgeting, and I try hard to stop. My only hope is that he registers it as restless annoyance instead of fear. He relaxes and takes another obscenely long drag on his cigar, not bothering to pretend he isn't staring at my bare legs. Had I been aware when I dressed myself that day that I would end up here, I would have worn a parka, long pants, or even a snowsuit if I needed to. Anything to protect myself from his hellish gaze.
“So, do you really not know why you’re here today, Anna?” he asks once he finally lets the smoke pour out of his mouth – looking more like a dragon to me than a man at this moment.
“If you mean if I know why you called me here, then I’ve already told you I don’t. I know why I agreed to it, though,” I state as clearly and smoothly as possible.
“Go on,” he smirks, again placing the cigar between his lips.
The muscles in my throat tighten as though my body itself is trying to keep me from saying it. There is no going back once I tell him, and I know I’ll be placing myself right in the palm of his hand when I do. However, if I am going to be forced to do anything— which is the only reason I think I’ve been called here— then I’m going to get something out of it. Even if it means playing Andrey’s game by allowing myself to be manipulated by him.
“I want my father out of jail.”
I don't need to explain the situation because I knowhe's aware of it. Andrey is well-versed in the activities of the Robinson mafia and their associates. My father, Louis Holmes, hadbeen arrested in a police sting. Given that he was the only one implicated in the crimes, it stinks of bullshit. Anything connected to him should implicate numerous members of the Holmes and Robinson families. My father's family, while not part of the Robinson mafia, certainly operateslike it. They run protection racketsand cook the Robinsons' books to ensure that their payroll and expenses do not raise any flags with the IRS.
Five years for tax fraud, five years for evidence tampering, and an additional two years for a laundry list of misdemeanors I can barely keep track of.Twelve years. A man like him probably has done a few things worth a life sentence alone, so maybe twelve years is lucky… But I can’t just stand by and let it happen. He’s my father, and really, he’s my only family. And I know a man like Andrey is the only way I can free him.
Andrey flicks more ashes away and settles in, looking too smug and comfortable to bring me any ease. “What a coincidence, sweet Anna. I have brought you here to make you a deal.” He pauses to take another drag. I have to make a mental and physical effort not to squirm. The wait is killing me. I think he knows it, and he’s savoring it. “An exchange of your soul for your father’s freedom.”
CHAPTERTWO
Liam
