Page 10 of Cruel Bet

I sense that I’ll get more out of Arianna with honey than venom at this point, asking about her wellbeing and being kind is a means to an end. I don’t care how she feels either way, as long as I get what I want. At least that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself until it’s true.

She arches an eyebrow at me suspiciously, seeming surprised by my change in demeanor. “I feel… better, thank you,” she replies cautiously.

“I could make you feel great if you wanted,” I murmur, trailing a finger across her collarbone and down her arm.

The tiny hairs on her skin stand on end. Her skin feels silky smooth, touching her it feels like electricity dances between my fingertips. She jolts as though she feels it too.

“Nikolai…” she murmurs, tilting her head up to me, her lips parting slightly.

Just as I’m about to make my move, to bridge the gap between us, take her in my arms and fuck her until she screams, to make her beg for more until she’s desperate to tell me anything I need to know, she does something that throws me off-guard.

“Thank you… For saving me today. I don’t like the fact that people died because of me, but I understand that you did what I asked of you. But I need you to promise me that you will hold up your end of the bargain, that you will help me to start a new life somewhere my father will never find me,” she says, looking up at me with those big, trusting eyes.

I don’t know how to respond, her candidness and trust in me have my mind reeling. My men trust me, follow me because I am a strong leader, and they believe that I will continue to rule the Bratva with strength and fortitude. I can handle that kind of trust. But a woman’s trust? That’s a different story. Trust, relationships, and love are all distractions that can get a man killed or signs of weakness that enemies can exploit. I vowed never to care for anyone again, to risk losing someone close to me. I will do my duty to the Bratva and take a wife to bear children and carry on the Kuzmin name, but I will not love her. I will not promise to be faithful and tied to one person, that’s not me. Right now, Arianna is looking at me as though I’m her savior, and I am anything fucking but.

“You have me all wrong,kukolka, I did notsaveyou. You may have asked me to take you, but I did not promise you anything. Just because I took you, doesn’t mean I agreed to your terms. You handed yourself to me on a silver platter and I simply seized an opportunity to take down an enemy. Youwilltell me what you know. One way or another,” I reply calmly.

Again, she surprises me. She doesn’t break eye contact with me or shy away.

“No. You havemeall wrong. I am not the good, sweet, innocent little girl everyone seems to believe. You think you can hurt me? Just try. I’ve been beaten, broken, had everyone I ever loved taken from me, and I’m still here. I asked you to kidnap me because nothing could be worse than marrying that awful man and staying under my father’s control. If you have no honor, then fine, give it your best shot. Torture me and find out how strong I truly am. I will not be a prisoner again, so no matter what you do, I’m not telling you anything until you guarantee you’ll give me what I want in return. I am a woman of my word, are you a man of yours?” she demands, staring me down like a lioness.

No one has ever spoken to me like that before and lived. Especially not a woman. I should be livid. But it’s too fucking sexy. Despite my throbbing cock and the desire I feel. I have to remember that she could be playing me. Her reluctance to give me the information unless I promise to release her makes me think the information she has could be useless, or that she may not have any at all. She’s desperate enough to get out. If she hooks me into promising to help her, regardless of what the information is, I could fall right into a trap.

“Such brave words,kukolka.I wonder if you would still feel the same if I called your bluff? Though I think you and I have very different ideas of the kind of torture I’d inflict. I have something in mind that would have you screaming for entirely different reasons,” I purr, pulling her body against mine.

She gulps and her eyes widen in surprise, her breath hitching as she realizes what I’ve said. She doesn’t pull away, Ican feel her body trembling with desire against me. But I’m not going to fuck her yet. Not until she begs me to.

It seems we are at a stalemate. I am not willing to back down to her demands. It would be easy to promise her what she wants. But then it would be known that Nikolai Kuzmin gave in to demands without receiving anything in return. For now, I see no point in continuing this conversation. She will come to me willingly soon enough.

Chapter 7

Arianna

Nikolai’s hard body is pressed against me and I lose all sense. I think he might just take me right now and fulfil his dirty promises, and god help me, I want him to. Instead, he lets me go and steps away, striding out of the room without another word, leaving me breathless and aching with desire.

What is it about this man that makes me forget myself?

Just being close to him has me flustered and excited. My skin feels like it’s on fire from where he touched me and I’m damp and throbbing between my legs.

And why is he so infuriatingly stubborn? Why won’t he just promise to help me and then I will tell him what I know?

Although my shower didn’t do much to wash away thoughts and feelings of Nikolai, maybe some more sleep will. Despite having slept for a while in the car, I still feel exhausted. I climb into bed, not caring that I’m still damp and I haven’t even found pajamas. The soft, fluffy sheets envelop me in a warm embrace, and I’m surprised to find myself quickly drifting off to sleep.

***

The sun’s fully risen when I awake, although it can’t be that late, I don’t feel like I’ve slept all day and the sun isn’t too high in the sky. Although I’m tempted to stay in bed and hide, I decide I may as well get up now and face the day head on.Decision made, I head toward the walk-in closet to see if there’s anything I can wear.

When Dimitri said Nikolai had purchased a few things for me, he was most certainly underexaggerating. The closet is jam-packed and full of clothing for every imaginable eventuality. Even more baffling is how everything is the correct size. To my relief, whoever picked out my new wardrobe evidently wasn’t aware of how I dressed before. There isn’t a single babydoll dress or sparkly kitten heel in sight. Everything is far more subtle and grown up. I’m thrilled. It’s like the person who selected all this knew exactly the kind of person I’ve always wanted to be.

I decide on a pair of high-waisted, wide-legged black silk pants with a Chinese dragon motif, a baggy off-the-shoulder open-weave pale green sweatshirt that brings out the color of my eyes, and a black one-piece swimming suit underneath. I might take a swim once it warms up, but given the time of day, it’s still a little chilly. On my feet, I wear a pair of flat slip-ons that match the pants. I twist my long, still-damp hair up into a messy bun and secure it with a clip. Surveying my reflection, I’m satisfied to see that I look a million miles different from the meek little doll my father wanted me to be.

My stomach rumbles audibly, reminding me I haven’t eaten in god knows how long. I check whether or not the door is locked, and I am surprised to find it isn’t. Taking this as a sign that I can move around as I please, I decide to try to find the kitchen.

As I wander through the house, I note that most of the doors on my level are closed. The last thing I want is to get caught snooping, or worse, stumble into Nikolai’s bedroom, so I head down the stairs straight away, assuming that’s where the kitchen will be. On my way, I pass a living room with agigantic television and the biggest corner sofa I’ve ever seen. Another room contains a home gym with an impressive amount of equipment. I head down the corridor to where the pool area is, assuming that perhaps the kitchen overlooks it. I’m pleased that my guess is right, and I manage to find the kitchen with relative ease. I’m also relieved I didn’t encounter anyone on the way. Although I saw a few men manning the perimeter of the property, it seems that there either aren’t many others here, or they’re all asleep.

In the state-of-the-art kitchen, I find Dimitri, busy baking. The sight is somewhat surprising. Although Dimitri is dressed a bit like a butler, I didn’t envisage him baking. Despite his advanced years, it is clear he was once a formidable man. Even stooped, he towers over me and is probably around six foot, on his lined face is a scar that works its way from eyebrow to lip, and the eye beneath it is milky white. Watching him bake, jacket removed, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal a trail of faded tattoos on his arms, his similarly inked knuckles working the dough, feels odd. He must feel my presence or notice my scrutiny since he starts talking without taking his attention off the task at hand.

“Come in Miss De Luca, I am makingplushkisfor breakfast if you are hungry,” he says in his heavy Russian accent.

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