My stomach flips. Oh Santa Maria. This is his bed? I am so screwed.
Maybe the full reality of my situation finally hits me. Maybe good sense returns and fear sets in, but for whatever reason, my eyes suddenly fill with tears. I look away, blinking. Pissed that he saw he got to me.
He pinches a small place of flesh on my belly and injects me, then cups my jaw. “Don’t cry. It you behave, you won’t get hurt. It’s your brothers I want to punish, not you.”
I meet his eyes, surprised at the sudden change in his demeanor.
He drops my chin and walks away, giving me his back.
I close my eyes, blocking out the sight of him. Of this room.
Of my new prison.
Chapter 3
Vlad
“Wait.”
Shit. I need to get away from this woman. She’s too much of a temptation. I could look at her face all day and never grow tired of it. She’s that beautiful. And her beauty does stupid things to me. Like make me want to be nice.
And there’s no fucking place for nice here.
Worse, I don’t just want to look at her face. I want to bite those lips, fuck that mouth, watch her eyes roll back in her head when I pound her hard.
And I’m not going to do any of those things.
I don’t rape women.
I may not trust women. I may think they are manipulative liars who want to lure you into their lair and eat your heart out. But I still wouldn’t take what wasn’t offered.
I may make the little mafia princess think I’m going to, but I wouldn’t do it.
“What?” I don’t bother turning around.
“I have to pee. And I’m hungry.”
Fuck. I rotate and pin her with a hard stare.
A blush creeps up her neck. She may pretend to be tough—and I love it when she does—but I know the truth. She’s afraid of me.
And a little turned on.
“Okay, printsessa. Get up.”
She raises her brows and attempts to shimmy toward the end of the bed.
I watch for a moment, because it’s so fucking hot the way her dress rides up and I sure as hell want to see those pink panties again.
When she finally makes it to the edge of the bed, I walk over and untie her ankles.
“Go.” I lift her to her feet and slap her ass, hard enough to be a warning.
She squeaks and scuttles forward, then turns and holds out her bound wrists to me. “What about these?”
I shake my head. “Make do. Bathroom is there. Leave door open.” Her nearness thickens my accent, makes me drop the article before door.
“Fuck you,” she mutters as she moves away.
I smack her ass again.
Damn if she doesn’t toss her long thick hair and swish her hips as she crosses the room to the bathroom.
Adorable.
The girl is seriously something.
Definitely my lucky day. The Tacones couldn’t have given me a better gift than their beautiful, fresh-faced sister.
I go still, a prickle racing across my skin as a thought occurs to me.
No.
It’s a terrible idea.
I lift my eyes to Alessia, who compromised, leaving the door open six inches. Good. She knows I’ll carry out my threatened punishment.
I return to my terrible idea. Could I?
Probably not.
Should I?
Definitely not.
My burner phone buzzes. It’s Victor, my pakhan. The papa, or big boss of our bratva. The one who sent me away after Sabina pulled her tricks. He’s the only one who has this number, seeing as how it’s a new phone.
“Da, Pakhan.”
“Come back. Zima’s dead,” he says in Russian.
Zima’s the reason Victor ordered me to leave. Zima wanted me dead. Victor wouldn’t allow it. As the derzhatel obschaka—the bookkeeper of the organization—I’m too valuable to him. Or maybe it was out of respect for my mother, his long-time mistress. Either way, I was banished. Sent with the brigadier Ivan to set up a cell in Chicago. A shit job, and one I’m totally over-qualified for. So I let Ivan have his fun and kept working on my laundering schemes.
The toilet flushes from the bathroom.
My heart pounds with the audacity of my idea.
“Da. I’ll come right away. As soon as I get the paperwork in order to bring my new bride. I’m taking the Tacone girl as my own. They’ll pay me to keep her alive and well. It’s the very best revenge.”
Victor doesn’t speak for a moment. Marriage is forbidden as part of the thieves’ Code of Conduct, but one that involves revenge on an enemy is a different situation.
“Good. I want you here by Sunday. Business has become sloppy without you.”
“I’ll see you Sunday, Papa.”
He ends the call without a goodbye as I continue to stare at the bathroom door. When Alessia emerges with another haughty toss of her hair, my dick lengthens down my pant leg.
Yes.
No better way to fuck the Tacones up the ass than to marry into their family. Claim their baby sister as my bride and demand payment in the form of a dowry.