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The men shouted in Irish to get my father’s attention as I got out of Viktor’s tinted Mercedes parked in my father’s gravel driveway. Thanks to the dark tint, no one noticed me as I drove out through Viktor’s gate. I was playing a clever trick on him. A move that left me floating in a large pool of doubts and insecurities.
After closing the car door behind me and waiting patiently for my father to rush through the entrance door, expecting a stunned look on his face, the silver car key burned a hole in my palm like a silent indictment, reminding me of what I had done to get here.
I remembered the disappointment in his eyes, the scornful jeer in his laughter, and I realized that I already missed his scent. His lips on mine, his fingers inside me ... just the two of us in his office with reality as a backdrop and nothing else. It was stupid, but I wished I could still be with him, in that time capsule.
When I entered his office with Anton’s unused syringe, which I had hidden well under my shirt, I knew what I had to do and was one hundred percent sure that seduction was my only way out.
What I didn’t expect was to walk in and be bedazzled by the sight of him just leaning back in the damn chair. Long legs stretched out beneath him and so much soft hair just inviting me to run my fingers through it; I hadn’t expected to romp on his lap or have my mind blown with his fingers working magic inside me. Concentrating on his kisses and hiding the syringe between my fingers became increasingly difficult.
At that moment, I wanted so many things; I wanted him to teach me everything he knew; I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel. I longed to see the depths of Viktor Voronin-Varkov, to know the man he was inside; to know his love for cherry pie.
I sighed. My heart ached and my conscience nagged louder than the voice in my head telling me I had done the right thing. I didn’t know why I felt guilty for escaping from the clutches of my captor. I should have been thrilled—as thrilled as my father was when his eyes met mine at the main entrance.
“Mo leanbh...”
His huge arms wrapped me in a bear hug. It was comforting, but not as comforting as his.
“Dad, I’ve missed you.”
I must have looked pathetic in the pale-yellow flimsy T-shirt that fortunately covered most of my ass, but my father didn’t care. The genuine relief in his eyes as he hugged me reassured me. I rested my head against his chest and allowed him to pat my back until he decided to let go.
“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”
My father was a hard man. A very hard man. The only person who got to see emotions from him was me. He had made that clear the last time when he threatened to cut off Dae’s dick if my mother didn’t take care of me.
I learned more about him from rumors than from stories he told me himself.
Running the Irish mafia meant he didn’t have clean hands, and I was well-informed about how dirty and unscrupulous he was, just like Viktor. Cian O’Sullivan was no ordinary or average man with a normal family—heck, my mother hated his guts—but he made sure I got the most important things: love and his protection. I never wanted for anything, not even during the years I spent with my mother in Denver, communicating with him behind her back.
Whenever I called, he showed up; anything to let me know he was there for me. I appreciated him and the things he had done, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I walked away from something life-altering.
“Ava, my precious child,” he cupped my cheeks and tilted my head left and right to examine me. The creases in his eyebrows and the frown on his lips reflected his concern. “How?”
Declan stood beside him, dapper as ever in his navy blue suit that hugged every lean muscle and his broad shoulders, wondering the same thing. He looked just as handsome as always, and his blond hair shone golden in the sun. Red marks sat above his eyebrow and a bruise encircled his left side—all reminders of the ugly brawl with Viktor that day. But none of this dulled his charm. My heart could have skipped a beat at the sight of him, but it was preoccupied with thoughts of a certain Russian man.
But the crystal-clear blue in Declan’s eyes was hard and angry as if he just wanted to beat the shit out of something. He opened his mouth, but my father beat him to it.
“How, Mo leanbh? I find it hard to believe that bastard let you go so soon. We made a deal; I would sign and send in the land documents, and then he would release you and texts where we could pick you up. Viktor may be a cruel fucker, but he’s a man of his word. And I sent the documents thirty minutes ago…”
We were still busy sucking faces then.
His gaze was stern. “But there is no confirmation that he received the documents. No location has been transmitted either.”
“That’s because he didn’t let me go.” Offering him a shy smile, I said, “I ran away.”
He did not believe it. Doubts covered his features. He took a step back and raked his fingers through the gray-fuzzy strands of his hair. “You ran away?”
“It is a long story,” a very long story that included a lot of adult sex action. “But that is the summary of what happened. I saw an opportunity …”
Him thinking with his dick.
“…and I took it.”
I took advantage of him. I broke his trust. I betrayed him.
Dad wasn’t the least convinced. With narrowed eyes, he grabbed my chin again and tilted my head back. He wanted me to look him in the eye and tell him the truth. But that would never happen. Never.
Where should I start?
