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“And here I thought my own romance was a mess.”
“Men like us don’t get happily-ever-afters.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. From what I saw in your bride’s eyes, she’s on your side. The question remains whether you are on hers.”
“I need to speak with her again, now that my head is clear.”
“Is it?” A rueful smile flashed over Viktor’s lips. “You don’t look like you’ve slept or eaten in a while.”
“I have a lot to do. Thank your sister for me.” With that, I disappeared into the interior of the car to see to the next task on my list.
Chapter 52 – Talia
When my father firsttold me that I would marry Constantine Drakos, I’d nearly fainted from fear at the prospect of meeting the butcher of the underworld, let alone getting close enough to seduce him. He was a pirate king with no mercy.
It had taken weeks to steel myself against the terror the thought induced. At the same time, I’d had to give up the sweet rush of relief attained from smoking. The hunger to please my sire was the only drug strong enough to fuel my resolve. Our family’s schemes were enough to consume my focus that by the time I met Drakos at Club Black, my kill drive made me immune to the horror evoked by his name.
But not long into my marriage, I got the surprise of my life—Constantine was not the villain, he was just a man.
In the few short weeks of our marriage, he opened my eyes, so that when I saw him looming in the doorway yesterday evening, my first instinct had been to run to him because he’d come to rescue me. But then I saw it—that malevolent spark in his eye. Something terrible had happened, and the blame had been placed on my shoulders. It was clear then that he was my jailor; I was in this place by his orders.
Why is he doing this?That question was my only companion in this prison. It tormented me through the long, dark hours. Whatever had happened yesterday, it had been bad enough that Constantine had nearly killed me. The butcher was incensed, and the monster from the underworld was back. Trapped in this place and cornered by his wrath, the instinct to submit warred against my nature to fight for survival. It took me a split second to decide I would become the prey. It was a foreign notion, but I knew no pleas of innocence or protests of ignorance would have breached that fearsome exterior. My powerful villain of a husband had been ready to end me. I dared the predator in him to act. It had been a mad gamble. In the end, my bravery and strength must have gotten through to him, because he hadn’t killed me.
And it might be insanity, caused from the heat and my dehydration, but I knew Constantine wouldn’t hurt me. Rage made him the butcher, but whatever was between us made him the man I’d allied with. I just had to wait and see if he realized this too.
An unknown source deposited bottled water through the sky window, even through the night. The temperature changes were extreme, because while the air remained heavy, the heat vanished in the middle of the night and the blanket became necessary. During the day, I sweated bullets, soaking the blanket I lay on. I managed to sleep in small fits, but the stress of my situation would kick-start my brain into an endless cycle of thoughts over my predicament.
The hunger pangs were dull. They’d faded with the water, and if that supply was maintained, I could fast for days if necessary. But the heat and stale air kept my head in a constant fuzz. The waiting was torture. Movement raised my body temperature, so even pacing to keep my muscles moving wasn’t an option. Instead, I dozed, and my consciousness ran wild.
There was suddenly a distinct shift in the energy of the building. By my reckoning it was late afternoon. There was no sound, it was more a feeling at the base of my spine. Sure enough, through slitted eyes, I saw the well-oiled hinges of the door swing open silently.Hewas here. I shut my eyes as I felt a pang of excitement flood my veins. I remained perfectly still, breath even and posture relaxed. This submissive attitude was the first thing he’d see, not an enemy who challenged him. The instinct had served me well yesterday, so my plan was to stay the course while trying to get to the bottom of this mess.
As he stepped once more into the room, I warned myself that this could be the end. On the whole, I refused to believe it. Hope festered in my chest; Constantine had to see my innocence.
“I know you’re awake,” he said, voice devoid of any emotion. There was no clue as to what he was thinking, what he was feeling.
I took a deep breath and pushed myself up. Sitting cross-legged, I faced him. “What game are you playing, Constantine?”
