Page 83 of Disguised as Love

Something worse than terror saturated my veins as the truth hit me. We were all going to die?especially Cruz if they knew he was an agent like the man in the car had insinuated. I was going to get him killed, and my family would be responsible.

Chills ran up my spine.

Everything that had happened between us the night before flashed through my head. The intensity of the emotions I’d felt while we’d been moving skin to skin was like nothing I’d experienced before. He was beautiful and brave and willing to take a bullet for me. I wanted to run, drag us both away from this reality that I had never been built for. I wanted nothing more than to go back to my lab, my computer, and a night filled with audiobooks. I didn’t want to be fighting for our lives. But what I wanted didn’t matter. I couldn’t leave my mother.

“The svoloch in the car was right,” I said quietly, chest aching. “She won’t last another night.” His jaw ticked. “I’m… You don’t have?” I started, but he cut me off.

“Don’t even think about saying it. What kind of man would I be if I let you do this on your own? No. Fucking. Way,” he insisted.

“Is there any chance…” I started but then shook my head. I didn’t want to know the odds. I didn’t want to know what he and Ito-san thought of the wild, harebrained idea of walking into a club filled with mafiya members.

I closed my eyes against the wave of tears. Gratitude and relief but also sorrow swam through me. Cruz ran a hand over my hair.

“When we go in, don’t you dare leave my side, and you do as I say, when I say it,” he commanded.

When my eyes opened, it was to see his searching mine again. A wave of emotions, fierce and strong, flew over his face that was normally free of any. I’d found something in him I didn’t know I needed: understanding and acceptance. But also belief that someone out there would actually do the right thing.

The thought of losing that?losing him?was as painful as the thought of losing my mother and brother. The choice before me was enormous, like standing at the edge of a deep chasm and knowing you’d never make it across, but also knowing you didn’t have a choice but to jump. Knowing that behind you was only more pain.

“I…I…” My voice faltered on the words I wanted desperately to say but couldn’t. The emotions I felt for him but couldn’t express. His finger landed on my lips.

“Don’t. Not now. If by some miracle, we make it out of this alive, we can talk then.”

I nodded, and he squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go and opening the back passenger door. He used the butt of his gun to knock out the man who’d been filling me with nightmare visions, and then he led Ito-san and me toward the nightclub.

Someone must have been watching the street, because the door slid open when we weren’t even two feet away. AK-47s were directed at us, and we were ushered inside by five men in dark jeans and leather jackets. In a small, dimly lit entryway, we were removed of our weapons and patted down. Then, the muzzle of a rifle was shoved into each of our backs, directing us toward the club’s main room.

The retro disco balls on the ceiling were dark as well as the overhead lights. The club was cast in shadows barely dislodged by small lamps mounted above each of the booths and the pink neon strips behind the bar that made the crystal decanters dance with color.

Even in the dim light, it was easy to see the seats were full of men. An audience waiting for the show to begin. Their gazes followed us to the dance floor where a throne pillaged from a palace long ago sat. On it, was Rurik in a suit befitting a king. His hands were curled around the arms of the chair, completely at ease, as if this was just another day of business for him. The gash on his temple from the bombing was the only thing that seemed out of place.

Standing behind the chair, with one arm resting on the back, was Damien?or the man who’d once been Damien. It was difficult to tell because his face was swollen and twisted until there was little left of the man except for his blond hair and arrogant stance.

I glanced at Cruz, heart slamming against my rib cage. Had he done that to Damien? His hands hadn’t been bruised or cut. Neither he nor Ilia had looked like they’d pummeled a man when they’d shown up at the Golden Palace the morning after Damien had confronted us at the rooftop bar. But there’d been the smell of blood in the room that had been piled with chains that had obviously bound him.

I’d known Cruz was capable of violence, but I hadn’t had to see the end result of it. It should have comforted me that he would use that much force…that he would use it in order to defend me, but instead, my stomach twisted with nausea and regret.

“Raechka, it is about time you joined us,” Rurik said. His irritation showed in his voice in a way it didn’t in his stance. “We’ve been waiting far too long.”

We were shoved again from behind until we were a few steps away from the throne.

“Kneel,” a man behind me said.

I didn’t think twice, but they had to force Cruz and Ito-san to their knees beside me with fists and guns. Each of us had a rifle barrel pushed against the back of our head while heavy hands rested on our shoulders. A small ring of muscled men surrounded the dance floor, all holding their own weapons.

I was sure the hammering of my heart was audible to the entire room, that they found it either enticing or humorous, but I refused to let it be the only thing they saw of me. I lifted my chin, forced my words to remain steady and calm, and asked, “Where’s my mother?”

Damien choked out an angry grunt at my daring, but Rurik smiled. It was filled with evil that glided across the air as if it was alive. The dragon from my dreams attacking me. His eyes glinted in the shadowy light of the club, the pink neon making them shine almost red?like a demon come to life.

“You are so much more your father than Malik ever was.” He sighed. “What a waste this all is.”

I gritted my teeth.

Rurik shot a glance to the left and snapped his fingers.

From the back, another group of men came. In the midst was Malik, Mama, and what was left of Ilia. They had to drag him. His legs were twisted in a way that was not normal. His face was worse than Damien’s. I barely held back my gasp. I couldn’t let Rurik or any of the men in the room see my fear and horror, but it surged through me like a storm battering the shore.

They dropped Ilia on the ground in front of me, and I forced myself not to cry. His white eyes, that had scared so many of my students and peers, were mere slits as they took me in.

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