Page 20 of Thorns of Lust
Leaving the topic for later, I opened the gift my sister had wrapped with such care. She loved everything red and gold so of course the gift was wrapped in those colors.
Ripping the paper, I opened the box and a beautiful frame with a picture from the past stared back at me. It dated back seven years ago when Maxim and I took her to D.C. for her first concert as a solo violinist. In the photo, she stood with her precious violin between Maxim and I, barely reaching our chest, but her grin compensated for her lack of height. She lit up the entire city with her music that night.
It was that night that I saw Tatiana Nikolaev for the first time. It wasn’t until years later I learned who she was. Imagine my surprise when I saw her approaching the table where I sat with Sasha Nikolaev, discovering she was his sister.
“I love it, kroshka.” Isla’s big smile lit up her whole face and I pulled her into a hug. “I’ll treasure it forever,” I vowed. “Thank you.”
A soft giggle escaped her, and it vibrated through my chest. It fucking made my heart swell. I’d burn down this world to keep her safe. To protect her. Everything I’d done over the last two decades was to keep her safe. Away from our world.
Unfortunately, I had to protect her from her own mother too. My father spiraled fast after my mother’s death. He fucked anyone and anything with a pussy, as long as their hair didn’t resemble our mother’s light blonde mane. It was how Isla came to be - a young whore that father picked up in one of the brothels. Apparently, he was too drunk to roll on a condom, but not too drunk to knock her up.
“You’re welcome.” She gave me another hug. “Now, let me go check on our Christmas breakfast.”
She shot to her feet and ran out of the room, just as my cell buzzed. I retrieved it and slid the message open. Unknown number. A recording, waiting for me to press play.
A bad feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. With Adrian’s death, these should have ceased. Slowly, I pressed play and watched.
There was no need to watch it to know how it played out. It showed me pulling a pistol from my jacket.Pop.The gunshot reverberated through the screen. The L.A. senator slumped forward, his head smashing against his fancy mahogany desk.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Sniff around my family again–” I heard myself say on the screen, “–and I’ll end your entire fucking family.”
The moment the video finished playing, it was wiped clean. Same signature as the videos we’d received in the past.
Goddamn it! It didn’t matter that the fucking senator felt it was his right to touch my sister. Or that he had done that to other young girls. The only thing that would matter, if this leaked, was that my empire would crumble.
My grip tightened around the phone. The crack followed, protesting the abuse.
Then it vibrated and I answered. “Yeah?”
“I just got a video.” Marchetti barked. “Same digital signature as before.”
“I got one too,” I confirmed. There was no need to even run a digital scan. I could tell right away it was done the same exact way as before. “Did the others?”
“Yes.”
“His wife better not have anything to do with it,” Marchetti growled. “Or I’ll–”
“You won’t fucking touch her,” I snarled. It didn’t matter that I slipped. The night of the accident became clear that I’d fight the entire Omertà to keep Tatiana alive.
It was so much more than lust for her. There was something both tender and violent about my desire for her. This possessiveness went beyond anything rational. All I cared about was protecting her and destroying anyone who’d hurt her.
Even at the risk of exposing my whole family. The terror I felt when I saw her body twisted in that car was unlike anything else I had ever experienced.
I needed to protect her. At all costs. I wanted to unravelherand all the secrets she hid.
The question was, did I miscalculate her involvement?
EIGHT
TATIANA
Fury, pain, and betrayal sliced through me as I stared at him.
Sometimes it felt like I didn’t know him at all.
I waited for an explanation, anything, but the silence in our penthouse remained deafening and tense. His dark eyes stared back at me, that stubborn tilt of his chin, while his lips thinned in displeasure.
