L Y O V
pull up at a gas-station about twenty miles from the address of the safe house near Chicago. It’s quiet and out in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place to ensure we don’t draw any
unwanted attention. Milana has gone quiet in the passenger’s seat, no longer trying to fight against the restraints.
It was uncharacteristic of me to take pity on her. When I opened the door to beat her and tell her to shut up, I couldn’t. Not when those bright emerald eyes met mine, full of fire and fear.
She’s a goddess—a Russian goddess who I’d love to have beneath me.
Her eyes snap to mine, and I avert her gaze, fixing my attention on the road.
“Where are we?” she asks.
I grit my teeth together, hating that she’s disobeying my order again. I may have taken pity on her, but I can’t let her believe she has any control in this situation. “No talking,” I growl. “Stay put, and I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Not sure where you think I’m going to go,” she quips.
I grab her throat and squeeze hard, forcing her eyes to mine. “I said, no talking.”
Fear floods her eyes, and she quivers, wincing at the pain of my vice- like grip. She nods her head, and I finally let go.
Conflict is tearing at me. I don’t want Milana to be scared of me, but I’ve got no choice. She’s my captive, and I’m her captor. It’s simple. She does as I say until she gets to go back to her father—if she gets to go back to her father.
I grit my teeth. Andrei could ring me and order her execution at any point. The mere thought of harming her makes my stomach twist with unease. More often than not, that’s how this sort of shit goes down in the bratva. Loved ones die if you make a play for someone else’s territory. She will be collateral damage.
I can’t even think of hurting her, which makes no fucking sense. This is what I do. I torture, beat, and, if needed, execute our enemies.
Milana may be innocent, but she’s guilty by association. She’s on the other side of the war — a daughter of a man who is trying to take down our brotherhood.
I grab the fuel pump and shove it into the van, tapping my foot on the floor.
This place is deserted, but I don’t like stopping with her on view, even if we are back on our turf. Veselov has been increasingly aggressive in our territory. Any asshole from his brotherhood could spot her and give us away.
The geeky, middle-aged cashier with glasses is watching us out of the window. I hate the way he stares at Milana. He’s a dirty, fucking pervert.
The possessiveness rising inside of me is ridiculous and not rooted in a traditional captive and captor relationship. I want to own her in every way.
I can’t deny that the image of her on her knees, stark naked, tied up and sucking my cock has been on repeat since I let her sit next to me.
Asking her to dance at the club had seemed like a good plan at the time. It made perfect sense to get her away from her bodyguard. Once she was pressed up against me, and her sweet scent filled the air around me, I lost it. She hypnotized me with the way she moved and how good it felt to her body pressed against mine. Then she kissed me, and all reasoning flew out of the window. I’d forgotten what I was doing. I’d forgotten my damn
name.
If it hadn’t been for her suggesting we got out of there when we did, her bodyguard would have thwarted the entire plan. I can’t think straight around her.
I’m never one to get distracted, especially not by women—not after Liliana. Another has not tempted me since her. How ridiculous is it that the first women to catch my interest is my captive. Maybe that’s just because I’m sick — a broken man who shouldn’t go near a sweet, innocent girl like her.
Anyone that goes near me gets killed anyway. Milana would be no different. Once the tank is full, I set the fuel pump back and march for the station to pay the pervert, who is still staring at my captive.
I step into the station, and he still doesn’t take his eyes off of her. Rage bubbles inside of me and I can feel my control slipping. “What the fuck are you staring at,” I growl, as I get up to the counter.
The guy glances at me and then pales. “N-nothing.”
I slam my hand down on the counter. “Bullshit. I saw you staring at my woman ever since we pulled up here.” I grab him by the collar and pull him over the cashier. “I wouldn’t fucking stare at what is mine if I were you.”
He turns so pale that I’m sure he’s about to piss himself. “Of course,” he splutters.
I let him go, and he drops back into his chair, clutching at his throat. The guy is a fucking coward. He should know better than to stare at a woman with a man like me.
I grab a few candy bars and some chips before chucking three twenties down on the counter and turning to leave.
Assaulting a cashier while I’m trying to be discreet is kind of the opposite, but Milana makes me crazy. No one can look at her because she’s mine. I shake my head. I can’t be thinking like that. She belongs to my brotherhood now, until I’m instructed by Andrei otherwise.
I get into the driver’s side of the van. Her stunning green eyes fix on me. “Why did you grab the cashier like that?” she asks.
I grit my teeth together. There’s no way I’m telling her why—because I hate any other man looking at her. Instead, I grunt in response and turn the engine over.
I chuck her the chips and candy bars. “Eat,” I order, before pulling the van out of the gas station quickly, speeding down the road toward our destination.
“Are you ever going to speak to me or just grunt and throw things at me?”
God damn it. Milana knows how to push my fucking buttons. Does she want me to hurt her? I think the more important question is, could I? Instead of looking at her, I keep my eyes forward and say nothing. I won’t bend to her will and answer.
“Fine, the silent treatment it is.”
I see her cross her arms over her chest from the corner of my eye. This whole situation is fucked up and wrong. Milana is my prisoner. Yet, she’s the one who is having the last word. I can’t even find it in myself to say anything.
Every time I snap, the fear in her eyes makes me feel guilty. It’s stupid. I’ve done far worse things, and never felt guilty. “Stop mouthing off, or I’ll make you sorry you didn’t stay in the back of the van,” I grunt.
She tenses by my side. Finally, I think I’m getting through to her.
“I wouldn’t mouth off if you told me what the fuck was happening.” Fuck’s sake. I slam on the breaks, swerving to the side of the road.
Milana can’t keep pushing me like this, but everything I do doesn’t get through to her. This time, when I grab her throat, I mean it. The strength of my grip makes it difficult for her to breathe.
Her eyes fill with fear as she stares at me—shocked.
‘What the fuck is confusing about this situation?” I ask, not expecting an answer.
“You,” she gasps.
I let go of her throat. “Explain,” I growl.
She licks her bottom lip, making my cock stir to attention. “One minute I’m bound and gagged, and the next, you let me sit in the van. You haven’t laid a hand on me or hurt me, so it’s hard to believe the threat.” Her eyes are flickering with fire.
She’s right. I’ve not backed up my threats with my actions, and I can’t. The thought of hurting her makes me angry. I turn my attention back to the road and shift into gear, pulling away from the side of it without another word.
I can feel her eyes on me, but I don’t meet her gaze. This is situation is very bad. I’m her captor, and I’m supposed to hurt, intimidate, and torture her.
I’d never harm her. I know that with certainty. What I’m supposed to do and what I want to do are so conflicting. All I want to do is claim her as my own and protect her from this world.
It could change the course of my life and hers so drastically. Andrei is a fair pakhan, but I’m not sure my disobedience would be something he could overlook. If he orders me to hurt her, I won’t be able to do it.
The main question is, what choice will we have? I have nowhere to go and no connections other than within the brotherhood. If I defy my pakhan
it would be a death sentence for both of us, but hurting Milana goes against every instinct.