Page 36 of Reclaimed Crown

This is the man who murdered my father, locked me in a cell with his decaying corpse, and disposed of my father’s body in a place no one will ever find it. My father wasn’t a kind man to me, but he didn’t deserve to die that way. Viktor’s claims are a lie. They have to be. It’s hard to imagine my father betraying our entire village and being responsible for my mother’s death. My father and I survived that attack because he made a deal with Arkady who was leading the group of men who had just killed my mother and was about to shoot my father and me. From that day on, we’ve been living in service to that thug.

As helpless as I feel at this moment, I still want to survive. The part of my body that instinctively wants to keep living is what’s keeping me going right now, despite the odds I face. I can’t imagine a single woman, let alone one as small as me, has many options for escape. I can’t fight my way out or run. I have no gun or any other weapon. There’s also the matter of being locked in a cell in the middle of a Bratva-controlled compound.

I exhale a long sigh, knowing my chances are slim.

My mind is a weapon. Well, it’s the closest thing I have to a weapon right now. There are people who can take advantage of situations much larger than themselves to their benefit, but this is something I’ve never been good at. The best I can do is think of people I know who are good at manipulating others.

Ashlyn, my friend from Chicago, comes to mind. I shake my head at the idea of her ever being able to manipulate another person. She’s one of the most honest people I’ve ever known, even if it meant needing to hear hard truths from her. She’s never been one to hold back what she really thinks.

As much as I hate admitting the control Viktor has on my body, I realize I can use it to my advantage. I saw the look on his face when he was bending me to his will, teasing my pussy until it gave him what wanted to see. He needed it, too.

The distant bang of a heavy door opening and closing interrupts my thoughts. I panic over the idea of Viktor coming back to torture me further. There’s nothing that can stop him from doing what he wants to me, and yesterday could have been just the beginning of an extended nightmare.

I stay quiet, holding my breath, dreading the sound of footsteps coming my way. I don’t know what’s worse: Viktor paying another visit to me or someoneotherthan Viktor coming to see me.

After another moment of silence, I hear no further noise.

This seems so hopeless. Even if I escape, where would I go? My father is dead. I can’t go home. I have no money. My only ally at this point is Ashlyn.

I turn to the ceiling, imagining that I somehow make it to Chicago. It’s a fantasy, but it’s one I’ll cling to for motivation.

Not everything was perfect when I was in Chicago, but it was an improvement. I still had stress because of the original reason Arkady sent me there: to spy on a rival mafia organization. Bruno, the man I reported to in Chicago, constantly demanded information even if it was something petty. I was supposed to follow and befriend a student named Adrienne Lane. It turned out to be a much harder mission than I had expected. Adrienne was a typical spoiled mafia princess, constantly surrounded by a security detail that was no doubt arranged by her father.

Dealing with Bruno was its own sort of challenge. He kept talking about how he would marry me one day, leering at my body whenever he saw me. Bruno acted as if everything in this world belonged to him simply because he wanted it. I dealt with him whenever I needed to, but otherwise I stayed far from him.

My body tightens when I hear the door to my cell unlocking. I curl my legs against me to protect myself from the person who is about to walk inside my cell.

Viktor stands in the doorway, just as he did the first time he opened the cell door. This time the lights are on and I can see his face. His eyes stay fixed on me. I can feel the heat from the incinerator radiating into my cell. The warmth is desperately welcome, but the man that accompanies it strikes an intense fear within me. I knew Viktor was dangerous from the first night I saw him at the Bratva party, but I did not think he would direct his viciousness towards me.

He walks further into the cell, passing in front of me with one hand slipped into his pocket and the other carrying a bag. My stomach sinks, wondering what he has planned. I can’t face another round of his torment.

My eyes follow the long lines of his body. Despite the fear and anger I feel towards him, my body still betrays me. A gush of wetness spreads in my thighs as I watch him and it makes me sick to know there’s a part of me that still wants him. My nipples harden when I think of the way he teased them before applying the painful clamps. He wants me to show him just how weak I am, just so he can break me further.

“Sleep well,zaychik?” he asks as if he isn’t the physical embodiment of my nightmares.

I turn my head away, feeling ill that he could be so oblivious to my suffering.

He walks to the rack holding the tools he used on me when I was bound to the cross. I brace myself, expecting him to open another drawer and pull out whatever tools he used to torture me. He sets the bag he was carrying on top of the rack and opens it. I see him pull out clothing, soap, a toothbrush and something shiny. He sets the clothing on top of the rack with the tools but keeps the sparkling trinket cupped in the palm of his hand as he walks towards me.

My stomach drops as he lowers himself to my side. What is that glimmering object he had in his hands. I decide it’s a knife and wonder if he’s about to kill me, but if that were the case he wouldn’t bring clothes.

Viktor opens his palm and lets whatever is inside slip out. My eyes narrow as I realize it’s a necklace. An amber stone held to a silver chain. He unclasps the chain and places it on me. We both study the necklace as it hangs off me before Viktor continues.

“Your family is responsible for the death of the person who wore this,” he says with a look of sadness in his eyes. He turns to me with a cold stare. “You will wear this in remembrance of her life.”

My eyes lower to the floor as I realize this was his mother’s necklace.

Viktor circles my chin with his fingers and yanks my head upwards. “If you take this necklace off for even a second I promise you’ll be as dead as its previous owner,” he threatens before turning and walking out of my cell.

My mouth hangs wide in surprise when I see he left the door open. I immediately think of running, trying my luck against an armed man easily twice my size. It’s tempting, but I realize that’s exactly what Viktor wants me to do. He wants to tempt me. He wants me to feel how close I am to freedom.

“Here,zaychik,” echoes through the halls.

I push myself up to my feet, stumbling over the blankets wrapped around me when I take my first step. The amber necklace pendant grazes the skin of my chest as I regain my footing, grab the bag of clothing Viktor brought with him, and take careful steps towards the open door. When I pass through the doorway I immediately look down both sides of the hall, expecting some kind of attack.

Nothing comes.

I follow the sounds I hear, walking in the direction the heat originates from. The hall becomes hotter the further down I walk and is uncomfortably hot when I reach an open room at the far end. I peek my head through the doorway, finding a gaping mouth of an oven with a fire burning inside. The room glows in a bright red heat and a beam of scorched air directly in front of the oven dances in small waves.

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