Page 54 of Broken Sins (Volkov Bratva 3)

“Or else, darling, I’m afraid that I will have to finish what I started on the staircase.”

That sends a cold chill running through me. What he started on the staircase was his hand between my legs, stirring to life something that I didn’t even know lived inside me. How can I possibly want this man in a physical, sexual sense? He is my captor, my warden, my enemy. He wants to hurt me. I heard the brothers talking between themselves. I know that they don’t have good things planned. But I also know that they aren’t in alignment on what exactly to do with me.

It’s becoming clearer and clearer though: Leo wants to swallow me whole.

Like a marionette on strings being controlled by someone far above me, I find myself taking a step towards him. The droplets of quickly cooling water slide down my hips and from my wet hair, splattering quietly against the marble floor. I’m not in control of my own actions anymore. Thatthinginside me—the same thing telling me to enjoy perfection while I can get it—is telling me to go to Leo, to do what he says.

I shiver. As I do, he closes the remaining distance between us and wraps the huge, fluffy towel around my body. There’s an almost loving tenderness to his touch. It contrasts with the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes.

“There, there,” he mumbles softly. He’s close enough that his lips graze my earlobe. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

I say nothing. I can’t. I don’t trust my voice not to tremble.

Keeping his hands on my shoulders, he steers me out of the bathroom towards the bedroom. I see that he’s opened the huge armoire that sits in one corner. In it is a single garment—a golden dress. It catches the light of the chandelier overheard and the light of the setting sun and scatters both sources in a million different directions. Placed just in front of the armoire is a pair of impossibly high black stiletto pumps.

“This is what you’ll be wearing this evening,” he informs me quietly. He points to the vanity in the opposite corner. “There is makeup and whatever else you need over there. Dinner is in half an hour. Do not be late.”

For the third time this evening, he turns and slips away before I can figure out what to say. I’m left in this empty room, still wet, still feeling the buzz where his lips brushed against my ear, where his palm cupped my center, where his eyes bored into my soul.

I don’t even have the chance to ask why there isn’t a scrap of underwear to be found.

But, as soon as he’s gone, I realize it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to stick around to find out.

There is a huge window next to the vanity that stretches nearly from the floor to the ceiling. I reach over and test the weight of the little stool set in front of the makeup mirror. This ought to do nicely.

Picking it up, I take a deep breath and steel myself. I’m only going to get one chance at this.

With all the force my aching body can muster, I hurl the stool at the window.

It merely bounces back.

I shriek and leap out of the way, narrowly avoiding being decapitated by my own idiotic mistake. It takes a long time to get my heartbeat back to something resembling normal.

Of course these psychopaths would have bulletproof glass. There isn’t even a scratch on the pane. My dad showed me once on his car how bulletproof glass could repel slugs fired from close range. I didn’t have the boldness back then to ask why a man like him needed such a thing. We both knew that I wouldn’t like the answer.

I lie on the floor for a while looking up at the ceiling above me. The rug beneath me is soft and warm. I wouldn’t think that would be the case, but even after days of captivity, it feels good to do nothing for a moment. The other shoe will drop soon, after all. Might as well soak up the last few moments of peace.

The clock on the wall chimes out the half hour. I need to hurry up and get ready before I am late. I shudder to think what they will do to me if I don’t show up when Leo told me to. My escape will have to wait until after dinner.

Besides, maybe dining with the Bianci brothers will give me some clue I need to get away from here. At the very least, I’ll get to see more of this castle. Leo was careful to lock the door behind him, so it’s not like I can just sneak out that way anyhow.

The only way out is through.

I don’t know where that phrase came from, but it pops into my head suddenly and loudly.The only way out is through.Through the castle. Through the brothers.

I shudder again and hurry over to put on some quick makeup and pull the dress over my head.

* * *

I am tottering like a newborn deer when I head towards the door of the bedroom right as the clock tolls out the top of the hour. I was never great at walking in heels under the best of circumstances. Fear, malnourishment, and nights spent sleeping on hard rock haven’t done me any favors in that department.

I pause a few steps shy of the door when I remember that Leo locked me in. How am I going to get out of here? I turn halfway around to see if there’s a bell I’m supposed to ring or something.

But my dilemma is answered immediately. The door sweeps open, revealing Vito.

He is wearing a midnight-black tuxedo. He looks like an honest-to-God model. Those high cheekbones, the dark windswept hair, the piercing eyes and pout. He fills it out better than the pale, scrawny boys they put on high-fashion runways, though. His shoulders are massively broad, his biceps thick.

“Good even—” he’s in the midst of saying as he steps through the door. When I turn all the way around, the words die on his lips.

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