Page 57 of Malevolent King

“No, not just like that. You should have been already married. I’m merely correcting the mistake you made in not holding on to your first fiancé. The Moroni family is nothing next to the Chernov bratva, but they have men in New York, which is what we need. You are still helping me to establish a presence in the city. So, you can feel useful, after all.”

“I don’t know him.” I didn’t get any further before my father turned on his heel and made a move toward the door.

“That’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Then he was gone.

The sound of the lock turning in the keyhole was like a nail in my coffin.

* * *

I layin bed and stared at the shining glow-in-the-dark stars floating around me. They were faded now, losing more of their luminescence every day. I knew how they felt. The lid I’d shoved over the dark, writhing panic in my gut was threatening to crack at any moment.

Tears pooled on my pillow, and the wet, salted cotton irritated my skin. My eyes stung, and my nose was stuffy. I’d cut perfect crescents into my palms by clenching my fists. I was furious. I was heartbroken.

Most of all, I was done.

There was no time left for me. No time for Renato to come home and claim leadership of the family. No time to convince my father that he should wait to marry me off, or that I deserved more than a loveless tactical match. That had never been a possibility. I could see that now. Antonio De Sanctis had never cared that much for me, and he had certainly never worried about what I wanted for my life. I had been a fool to daydream about anything different. Soon, I’d be trapped forever, a windup doll without the right to an independent thought or opinion.

Aren’t you already one?

I was on my feet before I could question it. I rubbed my stinging cheeks, my breath coming quickly, my chest aching. All my life, I’d done what I was told. All my life I’d been Antonio De Sanctis’ dutiful daughter. Nikolai had always been right. I lived in a cage, and I willingly kept myself inside it. I had a master, my father, who cared nothing for me. I was a pawn. A puppet. A coward and a fool.

No more.

I left the room and headed along the hall. It was Angelo’s night off, so there was no one to warn me off my wild course of action or feed me unwanted logic and reason. The halls were quiet. It was Sunday night. Most family men were at home on Sunday night. It was easy to work around the guards who remained. I was like a ghost in the halls of my home. I slipped by unchallenged.

Heading down the stairs to the basement, I wasn’t surprised to find there weren’t any guards assigned to watch the sole prisoner locked in one of Antonio’s rooms. He’d had plenty of prisoners down there over the years and had never had a successful escape-well, until Nikolai, that was. But that had been before the youngest Chernov had been locked inside. The way I’d seen him earlier, he’d had no chance of escape.

It was perfect.

I unlocked the deadbolt on the outside of the cell door and pushed inside. The low hallway lights were barely enough to illuminate the inner recesses of the cell, but I didn’t want to turn on the overhead light. I felt freer in the dark.

I took two steps into the room and pushed the door closed behind me. Only a slither of light crept into the room. I waited in the dark for my eyes to adjust.

“Well, this is a surprise, prom queen. Did you get our rooms confused? I’ll give you a hint: yours has fewer torture implements.”

I walked toward him on steady legs. I wasn’t conflicted. My turmoil had passed.

I could make him out now. He was sitting with his back against the wall, and I knew his hands were tied behind him. He had his legs drawn up, bent at the knee. As I approached, he slid them down.

“Lastochka, what’s wrong?”

His deep voice slid over my skin, making me burn. No one in my life made me feel like Nikolai did. No one turned me on with just the timber of his voice.

I reached him and sank to my knees. I still couldn’t speak. I couldn’t find the words.I stretched one leg over him, moving to straddle him and he jerked in the restraints like he wanted to reach for me but couldn’t. I settled my weight against him, and he groaned.

“Does it hurt?” My voice sounded throaty and low, nothing like my usual tone.

“Not enough to stop,” Nikolai murmured.

Time seemed to halt when I brought my hands to his face. I cupped his cheeks like he’d cupped mine so many times.“Good.”

It was the last I managed before I leaned in and kissed him. I felt his shock. In all our tussles, I’d never been the instigator. I’d been the one who fell apart in his hands while trying desperately to deny to both of us that I wanted him.

Tonight I was being honest for once in my life.

I pressed my tongue against his lips, and he opened for me with a soft growl, immediately taking charge somehow, despite not having hands to help him.

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