Page 12 of Brutal Vows

Of course, I did. What other choice do I have but to obey? The stories my father has told me of this man—the warnings he gave me—they still curl my stomach today. Any hope I’ve held onto of escape vanishes. No one is going to help.

Holding back the tears threatening to fall, I slide into the backseat of the car waiting for us. The ride isn’t long, only about an hour according to the clock on the dash, before we pull into a large underground parking garage attached to a high rise.

Exhaustion pulls at my limbs, and I struggle to keep myself awake. It’s nearly two in the morning and even though I may have slept for a bit on the plane, exhaustion still tugs at me. It’s as if I am stuck in one of my nightmares, but the hunger in my belly and the pain in my head remind me that this is all too real.

Armed guards line the perimeter of the garage, theirgaze hawklike as they search for threats. My stomach falls. I only need to find one weakness—that is it. Just one.

“What is this place?” I ask Vitali as we exit the vehicle. He still hasn’t formally introduced himself to me. It is as if he expected me to already know who he was when I first woke, but I didn’t. The man before me doesn’t resemble the monster my father painted him to be.

“The home of Kenzo Nakamura, Leader of the Yakuza,” he says, his eyes fixed on the distant cityscape through the window. A chill runs down my spine as we step into the elevator, though it isn’t from the temperature. The elevator ascends smoothly, coming to a halt at the opulent penthouse floor. As the doors slide open, Vitali gently takes my elbow, guiding me into a vast, open space that leaves me speechless.

The entire first floor of the penthouse is a vast, open-air design, seamlessly blending indoor and outdoor elements. Dark glass spiral staircases twist and ascend gracefully, leading to the entry balconies of each upper floor. The decor is a sophisticated palette of grays and whites, with sleek black accents providing contrast. The floor is a polished wood, reflecting the minimalist furniture that includes a long, low white sofa and a series of angular black chairs. The walls are adorned with abstract art pieces, their chaotic brush strokes echoing the early works of Picasso yet maintaining a sense of sterility and order amid the artistic tumult.

“You will be respectful in Kenzo’s home,” Vitali warns me. “If you have questions, you will ask me. This man is my brother, and I will not tolerate someone like you disrespecting him or Adrian.”

“Someone like me?” My mouth twists at his words. What does he mean by that?

“Yes,” he sneers. “The daughter of a corrupt, traitor and the sister of a coward. Now, do you understand me?”

“Oh, I understand you alright,” I hiss at him. “Crystal fucking clear.”

With one swift movement, he turns me away from him, leaning my body over one muscled forearm, and crashes his hand down on my ass. The swift punishment leaves me breathless, the sting worse than normal since it hits over the marks from his earlier belting.

“Do you want to try that again?”

My stomach churns, bilious and sour as nausea builds within me. What is he going to do with me? Did he bring me here to be at the mercy of him and his brethren? What did my brother do that has him treating me this way? A woman he’s never even met.

“Gia,” he growls in warning.

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, lowering my eyes to the ground demurely. When Elio rescued me from my father, I thought this life of demure servitude was over, but here I am, right back in the center of it.

“You made it,” a voice greets from behind me. My cheeks flame at the realization that I am still bent over Vitali’s arm, vulnerable.

“I’m sorry I am late, brother,” my captor says as he stands me back up properly and turns me to face our host. “I had a few things I needed to take care of.”

The man, who I am assuming is Kenzo Nakamura, grins as he embraces Vitali. “You missed one hell of a firefight,” he tells Vitali who smiles back. Damn, why does he have to be so handsome? It isn’t fair that a man as evil as him resembles a Greek god. “But it appears you found something else to keep you entertained.”

Instinctively, I shrink back behind Vitali at having theman’s undivided attention. His eyes are sharp and cold, and the way he studies me has me cowering away as far as I can. He’s just as handsome as Vitali with sharp, chiseled cheekbones and caramel-tinted skin. His shoulders are stiff, back straight. This man, like his friends, radiates power without trying. A predator living amongst lambs.

“Not what I was looking for.” Vitali shrugs as if it is no big deal. “But it’s better than nothing.” I can’t help but bristle at how cavalier he is about kidnapping me.Saving youis more like it,the voice in the back of my mind reminds me, but I choose to ignore it. Even if he did save me, he did it for his own selfish reason and part of me thinks I might have been better off dying of starvation or hypothermia than be alive for whatever he has planned.

“Your room is ready for you,” Kenzo informs him. “Including those additional requests you asked for. He follows the last bit up with a smirk that causes my stomach to drop even further.

“Thank you, brother.”

“I’ll have some food brought up for you both.” Kenzo gives us a nod and shoots me one last warning before he makes his way toward a large kitchen.

“Let’s go,” Vitali orders, taking me once again by my elbow. I have no choice but to follow, unable to look at him, afraid of what is going to come next. He leads me up one of the glass staircases to the second floor.

Alone in the privacy of the bedroom, he will have complete control.

Seven

Travel has made me weary,but the thought of having the little deer beneath me, her body writhing with pleasure and pain as I bring her to the brink repeatedly until she gives me the answers I want, has my cock standing at full attention.

Unfortunately, that is going to have to wait. The waif standing uncomfortably before me, her arms pressed against her abdomen, shoulders slumped, is not in any condition for what my depraved mind wants to do to her. She’s too fragile. Too weak. That is not how I like my women.

Not that she is in any way mine.

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