Page 52 of Born into Sin

“Then blindfold him.”

I laugh at the easygoing way she says it, like it’s a no-brainer and something I probably should’ve already thought of.

“He’ll hear your voice when you translate,” I remind her, “and I don’t want him to know you’re here. I’m pretty confident this man will never see the light of day again, but what if he does? It might be a one-in-a-million chance, but it’s still a chance I’m not willing to take, not with your life, not fucking ever.”

Pulling me even closer, she turns her head and brings her lips to my ear. “Then I’ll whisper so only you can hear me. Please, Dominic. Let me help you.”

When I hesitate, she brushes a soft kiss against the shell of my ear, and I swear I feel her smile when she hears me let out a resigned sigh.

I give her ass a soft smack. “You’re not very good at obeying rules, are you, principessa?”

She shrugs and pulls back with a smile. “It depends on if I agree with the rule.”

“Jesus, you’re going to have a very sore ass, sweetheart.” Her eyes widen at my words, but before she can say anything, I holler out to Dario in Italian. “Blindfold him!”

I ignore the soft laugh Sandro gives and wait for Dario to tell me it’s done. When he does, I cup Natalya’s face so she can see how serious I am.

“Not a word. Do you understand? You will stay with me, and if at anytime I feel like it’s not safe for you to be there, I’m going to have one of my men take you from the room. I don’t care if you kick and scream the whole goddamn way.”

“I understand,” she whispers. “I agree, so you don’t have to worry about me disobeying you.”

“How fortunate for me. I’m so happy you agree, Natalya.”

This time she’s the one lifting a brow at my sarcasm. I pick her up because I’m not about to spend the next hour hunched over so she can reach my ear. She wraps her arms and legs around me while I rest an arm under her ass, keeping her dress tucked in so no one else gets a view of her. No one sees this body but me.

When we pass Sandro, I give him a look that screams Don’t you dare say a fucking word. He smiles and nods at Natalya. She gives him a small wave but remembers to not say anything because the door ahead is open, and apparently because she agrees with me, she’s going to listen. How the hell I’ve started taking orders from an eighteen-year-old, I’ll never know, but I carry her ass into the room to where the blindfolded Russian is waiting for us. He’s sitting in a black, metal folding chair with his hands tied behind his back. Dark tattoos cover his arms and neck, and the T-shirt that’s straining against his chest makes it clear he keeps himself in shape. He might be low-level, but he takes his job seriously. Whether or not he’s serious enough to endure torture for his Bratva remains to be seen.

He hears us walk in and turns his head at the noise, no doubt trying to picture what’s going on in his mind and trying like hell to figure a way out of the mess he’s landed himself in. Looking over at Dario and Sandro, I give them a nod and they immediately walk to stand on either side of the man. I see his body stiffen when he hears their footsteps draw near. He says something in Russian, and Natalya presses her mouth to my ear.

“He said you fucking Italians are going to die for interfering in Bratva business.”

I ignore his threat and ask him in English, “Do you speak English?” When he doesn’t answer, I switch to Italian and ask if he understands that. He makes no attempt to answer and shows no signs of having understood anything.

When he hisses out another long string of Russian, Natalya says, “He’s saying that he doesn’t understand a word you’re saying and that you can kiss his ass.” She presses a soft kiss to my ear. “I’m going to speak very slowly, and I need you to repeat after me.”

I cup the back of her head and whisper in her ear, “What are you doing?”

She whispers back, “We’re going to get some information from him,” and the heat of her breath hitting the shell of my ear sends a shiver down my spine. This side of her shouldn’t turn me on as much as it is. I like that she snuck out and came looking for me, not that I’ll ever tell her disobedient ass that, but I like her courage, her fearless attitude when it involves me. It scares me that she’ll put herself in danger one day, but I can’t help but get turned on by it, too.

When I give a soft nod, she very slowly whispers words to me in Russian that I do my best to imitate. They don’t sound near as good coming out of my mouth as they do hers, but the man jerks his head up, surprised but obviously understanding me.

“You just asked him what Bratva he works for,” Natalya explains.

I give her ass a soft pat to let her know I appreciate her help, and I feel her smile against my cheek.

When the man answers, she whispers, “He just told you to fuck off and then insulted your mom.”

I bring my mouth to her ear. “Things are about to get loud and unpleasant. Are you sure you want to stay?”

“Yes,” she quickly whispers back. “I want to help.”

“Don’t turn around, principessa,” I tell her before looking at my cousins and telling them in Italian what’s been said. Her fingers play with the back of my hair, and it’s the oddest interrogation I’ve ever been involved in. Holding something precious in my arms while looking at a man I’d very much like to rip apart piece by piece is making my damn head spin.

Dario gives the guy a hard enough punch to loosen some teeth, and Natalya flinches at the sound of it. After several more punches, he spits out a glob of blood and a few teeth. It narrowly misses Sandro’s nice shoes, which only earns him another hard hit to the jaw. The man lets out a pain-filled groan while I repeat the question in Russian. This time when he mutters something, Natalya whispers, “He says they’ll kill him if he says anything.”

I cup the back of her head and run my thumb along the nape of her neck. “Tell me how to ask why they’re specifically targeting you.”

Like before, she whispers the words slowly in Russian while I say them out loud. The man groans and opens his mouth, stretching out the stiffness before answering the question.

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