Page 89 of Mafie Kings

He walks over and sits on the bar stool next to me. “I was an asshole,” he confesses, off to a great start. “I thought that you were trying to tease me and get me wound up. I thought it was all a game when you tried to push me away. I’m sorry. I took it too far.” He sighs, dropping his head down.

It’s rare for a man to apologize to me, so I stand up and slide behind the bar to pour him a drink. He looks like a sad puppy.

I might not forgive him yet, but I want to move past this. I figure alcohol is a good way for us to move forward. I grab an extra glass from the wall behind the bar and pour him a drink while topping mine off.

“Thank you,” I tell him as I slide his glass over. He gives me a genuine smile as we sit there and drink. Eventually, we end up talking about classes, and he even makes me laugh a few times. A chill hits me every so often. I wonder what’s taking Lev and Damien so long.

“I saw the whole thing with Natalya,” Bryce says. “She can be a real bitch.”

I laugh. “I have to admit, when she pulled me under the water I thought she had some guts.” I shake my head as a wave of nausea hits me, the boat's movements seem to get to me. I try to focus on our conversation to distract myself.

“But she doesn't know anything about real fighting. Alexi said she’s a Russian mafia princess and she acts like it too.”

The adrenaline from earlier starts fading rapidly, and the alcohol on an empty stomach begins to make my head swim, adding to the nausea. I walk back around the bar to sit on the stool, but slip with my wet clothes still dripping water as I fall to the floor.

Why does everything feel weird?

“Damn, I thought that shit was never going to work,” Bryce says as spots float in my vision.

Did he fucking drug me?

Using every bit of strength I can muster, I push myself up. I grab the bar stool for support as I try to stand. I reach down to grab one of the blades on my thigh but Bryce notices instantly.

He grabs me by my arm and digs his nails into my skin as he drags me back into the bedroom. He shoves me on the bed, then forcefully strips the blades from my thigh and tosses them across the room.

He pulls out his phone as I try to sit up, but my arms are too weak. “Stop,” I tell him, trying to sound unaffected.

He smiles down at me angling the camera at my chest as he tears my wet shirt off of me with ease. I try to yell but even my voice feels weak. My ears begin to ring as pressure builds in my head, making me want to close my eyes. I keep fighting, blinking over and over in an attempt to get them to focus. I’m vaguely aware of the rest of my clothes being torn off as I look into the camera above me.

“Fuck, these scars are hideous,” he says, running his fingers across my legs. He reaches up and grabs my breast in his hand roughly. I try to roll over to escape his grip, but he easily pushes me onto my back.

“I guess it’ll be worth it though, getting to share this with everyone. They wanted proof I could get to you. Everyone will finally see me put you in your place.” He laughs as he begins narrating a story about how I begged him to fuck me, spinning a lie as he walks around me with the camera.

Who is he talking about wanting proof?

Bending over he whispers in my ear, “Natalya might not know about fighting, but even she wouldn’t turn her back on her drink. You think you’re something special?” he asks, wrapping his hand around my throat. “You’re nothing more than tainted goods.”

I hear him fumbling with his pants as darkness begins to cloud my vision.

Damien's voice abruptly cuts through the fog. “What the fuck is going on?” he yells.

I force my eyes open, looking at him and praying like hell he can save me from this. Tears of relief fill my eyes when I see him standing at the end of the bed. “Help,” I manage to get out in a whisper.

Fire ignites in his eyes as the darkness consumes me and I fall in, having no doubt Damien will keep me safe.

Chapter 41

Rage, pure unabandoned rage courses through my veins. Seeing Evie on the bed beneath that piece of shit as he talked about her like a whore has me seeing red, adrenaline spiking in my veins promising pain to anyone who touches my girl.

My hand wraps around Bryce’s neck, throwing him across the room with the strength of fucking Hercules. His head smashes into the wall before he slumps to the ground.

I'm vaguely aware of Lev coming in behind me and going to Evie.

“What happened?” he asks, knowing about as much as I do. My chest tightens with his words, my brain not wanting to register everything that could have happened. While Bryce’s board shorts are undone, it doesn’t look like he got further than untying them.

“Damien!” Lev’s voice yells behind me when I drive my foot into Bryce’s gut.

“He. Almost. Raped. Her,” I say, each word followed by a kick. This wakes him up, his eyes fluttering open as he coughs up blood, leaning to the side.

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