You Don't Own Me 2 (The Russian Don 2)

Our eyes meet.

His are luminous, like that of a wolf. My heart lurches and suddenly my knees feel weak. I close the door and stand leaning against it.

‘You shouldn’t have kidnapped my sister. It was a despicable thing to do,’ I say, my voice making ripples in the heavy silence.

He doesn’t move. ‘How else would I have made you come to me?’

‘What you did was wrong. My sister had nothing to do with us and you made her suffer.’

‘If only all the suffering in the world could be that mild,’ he says callously.

‘My mother went out of her mind with worry. She is old and she didn’t deserve that.’

‘Yeah? I didn’t deserve to feel the way I did either.’

I sigh. We’ll be going in circles. ‘Anybody else would have just asked me out.’

‘I didn’t want to ask you out. I wanted to steal you away and own you; do whatever I wanted with you.’

‘Why?’

He leans his head back against the back of the chair. ‘I don’t know why. I just knew I had to have you. From the moment I laid eyes on you.’

‘That’s no excuse for what you did.’

‘It is you who is trying to find an acceptable excuse for me. I don’t need one. I don’t wait for anybody to give me what I want. I just take it. I wanted you and I took you. Now you are mine until I say otherwise and heaven help anybody or anything that comes between you and me.’

‘You talk of me as if I am your possession.’

‘You are.’

‘I’m not. I’m a person,’ I say, but my voice has neither strength nor conviction because I am drawn to something sad and lost in him. He is like a big, still lake. Full of secrets. Underneath the surface I can see things floating around in the darkness. They are as pale as corpses and they frighten me. I want this man so much it hurts to imagine even for a second that I might not be able to call him mine. That I’ll just be another body he used for a month.

He closes his eyes tiredly. ‘Have you not enjoyed being my woman, little fish?’

I purse my lips. God, I am so conflicted, so confused. No man has ever made me feel this way. ‘Yes,’ I say truthfully, ‘but I hate that you made my sister and mother suffer.’

‘Deep in your gut have you not known that it was I who took your sister?’

A chill runs up my spine and I freeze. The very idea is revolting, shocking, ugly, but it is not unfamiliar. We are two wolves. Neither can hide from the other. In the wind, hidden to all but me, I have already sensed it. Yes, oh God, yes, I’ve always known, but I hid it from myself so I’d have an excuse to do the thing I was dying to do: submit to him.

Now that he has opened the door I never wanted to open there is something else to face up to before I can go forth. Something else I need to know. I have pretended to myself all this while, but no more. I can’t be an ostrich, my head buried in the sand if I am take control of my situation. I have to know the truth, and if it is what I suspect it may be, and he refuses to change then I can’t stay. No matter how much it hurts I will walk away. Clearing my throat I fumble for the words and will myself to say them. ‘Are you … involved in … people trafficking?’

‘No.’

I feel myself sag with relief.

‘But Daisy said that there were other girls there. They heard their voices.’

‘They came from a tape recorder. So it’d look real to authorities.’

‘I see.’ One more thing, Dahlia. Just one more last thing. ‘Are you in any way involved with child porn?’ I ask.

He looks disgusted. ‘Never. Not in a million years.’

I blink away the tears of pure joy that want to pour down my face. I could never be in a relationship with someone who could abuse children, or is in anyway involved in such a barbaric activity. That’s a deal breaker, a hard limit for me. Everything else I can work around.

My voice is soft. ‘I would have been yours if you had just asked me?’

He turns his head. ‘Be that now then.’

‘What do you mean?’ I whisper, watching him with hypnotized eyes.

A cruel glint comes into his eyes. ‘Show me that I own you … yield.’ His voice is soft and suggestive.

My heart starts beating hard. ‘How?’

His eyes begin to smolder and his voice is a sensual caress. ‘I want you to take off your clothes, sit in front of me, and brush your hair.’

I stare at him surprised and curious. Definitely curious. ‘Why?’