Page 15 of Torn Souls

When the door opens, I take a deep breath knowing everything is about to shift. The very little hope I still reserved in my heart about my father changing will be lost. The future I dreamed about, which involved me getting away from the expectations I never asked for, will be gone. Nothing will be in my control; not anymore.

I fought hard to gain a little control in my life where I could. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to play the game I need to play when it comes to my father. I’m more than capable of smiling when expected and following the rules which are unspoken between us.

The air around us becomes charged and I know it has to do with the man who has walked into the room. When I glance up, my breath stalls in my chest. I wasn’t expecting four men.

One of them is more than enough. They’re all incredibly attractive and have an air about them.

Where my father has always prided himself on intimidating those around him and throwing his power around, it was more forced than natural. With these men? Everything about them screams apex predator.

The way their eyes assess the room, taking it in with one look, has me wanting to shrink back in my chair. I only allow myself to glance in their direction quickly. Anything more and I would attract their undivided attention. I’m not sure if I’m ready for their scrutiny.

Taking up all the space and air in a room is clearly as natural as breathing for these men. Danger and power radiate from them. My instincts are torn between running from them and dropping to my knees and begging them to save me.

What an odd feeling.

And for all four of them?

I’ve never felt this way about even one man, with a single look. How is it possible that I want all four men?

Shame fills me knowing I shouldn’t feel this way. Not even a little bit. Especially because my father expects me to attach myself to Kirill and do his bidding. I’m a pawn in this game and I don’t have any say in it.

When I glance back up, I take in the man who seems to be leading the others. If I were to guess this is Kirill Volkov. His hairis shaved close to his head and the suit he’s wearing is clearly more expensive than I even want to think about.

He’s tall, but all the men are tall and similar in height. I know the group of them would tower over me. It’s not like it would be difficult anyway, but I can only hope standing next to Kirill will make me feel delicate instead of overtaken.

Kirill’s dark eyes are sharp and assessing. But his eyes aren’t the only ones I can feel boring into me.

Did they not know I was going to be here? I almost groan in annoyance, but I swallow down the sound.

The longer the silence stretches, the more I want to slide underneath the table and hide. That would only piss my father off though. Who even knows how the rest of the men in the room would react.

I try to get my internal fears to calm down, but when my name is mentioned, my head snaps up to find Kirill staring at me. His nostrils flare as he breathes deeply while his dark eyes meet my gaze. I’m not sure if he wants to spank me or throw me over his shoulder.

Surprisingly enough, I’m open to either option.

I swear I hear one of the men whisper, “Oaklynn.”

But it could be my imagination. Kirill gives a curt nod and then sits without shaking my father’s hand or giving any further recognition beyond saying his name before my father introduced me. I almost wince because I know my father will see it as disrespectful.

Somehow, it’ll be my fault.

Before I avert my gaze toward my lap, I glance at my father out of the side of my eye. His jaw is tense, and his fists are clenched tightly as he sits down. The other three men join us at the table, and it becomes very clear why there were so many place settings which I wasn’t sure about when I first walked in.

“Mr. Chambers,” Kirill’s voice is like silk dragging along gravel, “are you familiar with my associates?”

My father shifts in his chair. He looks uncomfortable under the man’s scrutinizing gaze. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” he tries to sound agreeable, but it comes out strained and slightly annoyed.

I slide my eyes over the men sitting at the table because I can’t seem to help myself. On one side of Kirill is a man who looks similar to him in the eyes and jaw which is covered in stubble. His hair is a little longer on top and styled perfectly. Their eyes are the same—deep, dark pools which don’t even try and hide the violence they’re capable of.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end when he looks at me. I swallow hard when Kirill waves his hand in the direction of the man. “This is my brother, Maxim Volkov.”

Maxim nods toward my father, but he doesn’t look away from me. Even when I lower my gaze, I can feel the way he continues to stare at me. The way he’s looking at me feels like a caress.

Kirill motions toward the man sitting on the other side of him, “This is Huck Cardenas.”

Glancing at Huck, I bite my lip. His hair is the longest out of the four men and is styled back and away from his face. It’s slightly spikey but still sleek. His face is all angles with cheek bones that would make me jealous if I didn’t know how tocontour when I need to. His facial hair is trimmed sharply which feels more intentional than the stubble on Maxim and Kirill.

Huck’s eyes are chocolate brown and when I lock eyes with him, they seem to melt with lust and desire. My face heats as I tear my eyes from his when I feel my father stiffen beside me.

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