Page 80 of Cinderella and the Daddy
I let myself remember the way his mouth feels against mine—not desperate or demanding, but reverent. Like he's worshipping something sacred. I think about his hands touching me. My dangerous man, who could be so gentle one second and violent the next.
His hands knew every inch of my body. I love how he whispers things in Russian that I don't understand but feel in my bones anyway.
I think about his proposal, delivered in the wreckage of my old apartment with blood on his shirt and terror in his eyes. The way he looked at me, like I was his entire world, like losing me would unmake him completely.
He's coming for me. I know he is. Luka doesn't give up. He doesn't surrender. He'll tear the city apart brick by brick before he lets them hurt me.
Assuming they didn’t kill him.
No. He can’t be dead. I’m certain I would feel it. He’s out there.
I just have to survive long enough for him to find me.
The sound of footsteps echoes through the warehouse, pulling me back to the present with jarring brutality. I force my breathing to stay steady and my body to remain relaxed. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
"Awake already?" The voice is familiar, though it takes me a moment to place it. When I do, my blood runs cold.
Drew steps into the light. I see everything I need to know in his face. This isn't just about money or territory or whatever twisted game he and Anna are playing.
My brother wants me dead.
I have to bite my tongue to keep from reacting.
Anna materializes beside him like his shadow.
There's a third person with them, a man I don't recognize but who radiates the kind of quiet menace that makes my skin crawl. He's older, maybe in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and expensive clothes that don't quite hide the bulk of a shoulder holster. Everything about him screams professional, from his polished shoes to the way he holds himself.
"Miss Russo," he says, his voice cultured and pleasant.
I keep my breathing slow and even and stare back at them.
"Come now," Anna says with false sweetness. “Say hello to our friend. This is Mr. Kozlov.”
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s Russian.
“Fuck off. All of you.”
The man chuckles. “I knew she was feisty, but this is more than I can hope for.”
"Now, now," Anna chides, stepping close. She's wearing designer jeans and heels. "That's no way to greet family. Especially when we've gone to so much trouble to arrange this little reunion."
The older man steps forward, his hands clasped behind his back like he's inspecting merchandise. "Allow me to introduce myself. Yuri Kozlov.”
I've heard Luka mention the name. He’s never talked to me about it, but he did ask if I had met them. I knew they were a rival family. If they're involved, this is bigger than just Drew and Anna's twisted need for revenge.
"What do you want?" I ask, though I'm afraid I already know the answer.
"What we've always wanted," Drew says, beginning to pace in front of me like a caged animal. "Money. Power."
“Sorry, I don’t have either,” I reply.
I keep working at the rope. I can feel my skin shredding under the coarse fibers, but I don’t stop.
Drew sneers and shakes his head like he’s looking at a pile of shit. “I can’t believe that asshole wants you.”
“Believe it,” I retort. “And when he finds me, he’s going to fuck you up.”
Anna laughs. “Oh no, you think he’s going to find you?”
