by Nicole Fox
Smiling in satisfaction, I nod and turn towards the door Dr. Lenore had emerged from.
When I slide the partition open, I get a small window into the space beyond. Which is predictably small and dark, but there is a low bed pushed to one wall and a small table next to it. I notice a glass of water on the table and an empty plate and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Kian?”
He appears at the window. His face is disturbingly gaunt but his blue eyes seem even more piercing than I remember.
I grip the partition, my fingers edging between the gaps in the grille. “Are you okay?” I ask urgently. “Are they treating you better now?”
“Renata…” He says my name so softly that I have to strain to pick it up. His eyes bore into my face as though he’s trying to take a mental snapshot. It’s lovely. Touching. Almost tender, in the strangest of ways. My heart twinges and I don’t know what I’m expecting him to say…
But it certainly isn’t what he says next. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I frown. “‘Thank you’ works, too, you know.”
“Fuck that,” he growls. “You made a stupid decision.”
I bristle. “I was trying to stop him from killing you.”
“You didn’t stop him. You just postponed things.”
“Meaning what? You’ve given up?”
“I never said that.”
“No? Then what are you saying?” I prod.
He closes his eyes for a moment. I can see the frustration all over his face and it just makes me sad. Emotional. Fucking heartbroken.
Because I’ve done this for him. I’ve walked into a lifetime of servitude for him.
And apparently, all that gets me is anger and frustration.
Then it hits me. Just because I’m at a point where I think that’s a worthy tradeoff, doesn’t mean he is. Maybe, like always, I’ve read the situation completely wrong. I take half a step back from the window, thoughts churning. That seems to catch his attention.
“Renata.”
“What?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Shut down,” he says.
“Right. Sorry,” I say bitterly. “You’re the only one who has the right to shut down. Is that right?”
He meets my gaze. “I told you, I fucking told you to stay—”
“I know,” I snap. “I fucking know. And you were right. I shouldn’t have left. But I did.”
“Why?” he demands.
“Because I wanted answers, Kian!” I tell him. “I wanted to know who my mother was. I wanted to know what she was to my father. What he was to her. The only person with those answers was Drago. And I thought if I got him out, then he’d tell me.”
“And did he?”
I sigh. “He gave me just enough to make me think he knew everything. And then he called Rokiades.”
“What was the plan, Renata?” Kian asks scathingly. “Did you even have one?”
His tone is cutting, but I know I deserve it. My hand wanders to my stomach. I’m glad he can’t see the gesture from his vantage point. The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down.
Now is not the time.
“I had a plan,” I admit. “It wasn’t fully-formed, but I had one.”
“Care to share it with me now? Just for curiosity’s sake.”
“I was going to get the truth from Drago, get back on shore, and get as far away from this city as possible.”
“That’s a pretty shitty plan, all things considered.”
“What would you have done in my place?” I ask softly. “Everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, there’s another man trying to use me to gain power. I don’t want to be a pawn anymore, Kian.”
“Then don’t be,” he says. “Be a player.”
“How? I’m tied down now.”
He narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”
I drop my hand from my stomach. “I made a deal with Rokiades, Kian. You saw it.”
“Fuck the deal. You’re not really going to marry that puffed-up old goat, are you?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
He slams his hands against the door and I gasp, taking a step back automatically as the metal clangs harshly in the frame.
My guards start moving forward immediately, but I hold up my hand to stop them. “It’s fine,” I say as they fall back into place. “Stay where you are.”
“Look at you,” Kian says bitterly. “Falling into the role perfectly.”
“Why are you so angry?” I ask, defensiveness coursing through my body. “I did this for you!”
“Yeah?” he says, his eyes dark with anger. “But why did you do this for me? You ran before, and now you’re willing to give yourself for Rokiades just to save me. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Then you haven’t been paying attention,” I snap. “I wanted freedom. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
I’m so angry that I allow myself to say the words before I can think twice about them.
He stops short. His expression grows complicated. “You care about me, huh?”
The silence is thick and tense. There’s no turning back now. And I don’t want to be a coward. “I didn’t lie, you know,” I say. “That last hour we spent together before I ran, nothing I told you was a lie. I don’t think even I realized it until then.”
I shake my head.
“But it’s hard for me to know who to trust. Every man I’ve ever met has betrayed or abandoned me sooner or later. My father, my brother, my husband. And now they’re all gone and I have to continue.”
“Your brother’s not gone.”
I frown. “What?”
“I fished Drago off the yacht before it blew up,” Kian tells me. “Saved the fucker’s life, even though he doesn’t deserve it.”
“You… saved him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He hesitates. The silence is heavy, and I try to read between the lines. “You saved him for me… didn’t you?”
“I might still decide to have him killed,” Kian says gruffly.
I almost smile. “So you care about me, too?”
“Jesus,” he groans. “I thought that was fucking obvious when I was trying to keep you out of Rokiades’s clutches.”
“How could I not think that was about a power play? About keeping me as a bargaining chip?”
“I suppose I can’t blame you,” he admits quietly. “I just wish you had trusted me.”
My jaw clenches. I’m starting to feel nauseous again. “The wedding is in a few weeks, Kian,” I say. “I’m going to try and get him to release you before then.”
“You know he’ll never do it, Renata,” Kian scoffs. “He’s playing you. The moment you’ve married him, the fucker’s going to kill me.”
“I’m not an idiot,” I retort. “I figured that much out. I just wanted to buy you time.”
“And who’s going to buy you time, eh?” he presses. “You agreed to marry him. What’s stopping that?”
“I had to give him something he wanted.”
“You shouldn’t have given him anything,” he hisses. “I will get out of here.”
“How?”
He raises his eyebrows. “You think my men are just sitting idly by? You think my brother isn’t on his way here? The Clan is coming, Renata,” he tells me. “I would have been out of here regardless. You should have stayed calm, kept your cool, and pretended as though I meant nothing to you.”
“Maybe pretending is easy for you,” I say. “But it’s not for me. You were being beaten to within an inch of your life. I couldn’t just watch it continue.”
“I was fine.”
“That’s your pride talking.”
“No, it’s your naivete talking. He laid a trap for you, and you walked right into it.”
I bite down on my tongue, trying to keep calm, but he keeps goading me. Keeps pushing me away. “Forgive me for not playing
the game,” I growl. “I’m not like you. Or him. And I happen to think that’s a good thing.”
“Except that you’re in our world,” Kian points out. “And the only way to survive it is think like us.”
“Are you like him then, Kian?” I ask bitterly.
“You tell me, Renata.”
I meet his gaze, even though I don’t want to. Maybe he’s not pushing me at all. Maybe he’s just trying to teach me.
“Ms. Renata,” one of the guards calls out, taking a step forward. “Your time is up.”
Kian raises his eyebrows. “He agreed to let you see me?”
“I can be persuasive.”
He smiles. “You’re learning.”
I put my fingers back against the partition. “They are treating you better, aren’t they?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Ms. Renata!”
“Jesus, I’m coming!” I snap. I glance over my shoulder and then back at Kian. “I’ll try and find a way to get you out of here.”
“Don’t you dare,” he says immediately. “I’m being guarded twenty-four-seven. It’s not safe, Renata. You will get caught. Stay out of trouble. My men are coming.”
“How can you be sure?”
“It’s what I would do for any of them.”
Somehow, I can’t imagine Rokiades would say the same for his men.
“I have to go,” I say sadly.
His fingertips brush mine through the grille. The touch makes my heart shiver against my ribcage. I feel my stomach twitch, too. It’s probably a mental trigger and nothing more, but it feels so real to me. The life we’ve created stands between us. It gives the strength I never knew I needed. Maybe he needs it, too.
I want to tell him. Your child is right here, Kian.
But I don’t. I can’t. Not yet.
“Be safe,” Kian says gently.
I wish he’d listen if I tell him to do the same.
51
Kian
Kian’s Cell—One Day Later
I’m lying on the hard mattress of my bed when I hear approaching footsteps. I jump up instantly, wondering if it’s Renata again.
My head has been filled with nothing but thoughts of her ever since her visit yesterday. She’d been dressed better than the last time I saw her, in long pants and a flowing white sweater that covered most of her skin. She still looked so thin, though. And there was something deep and dark in her eyes that’s haunted me in the hours after she left.
The partition is locked from the outside, so I have no idea who’s on the other side of the door. “Move back,” a deep voice booms.
I sit down on the edge of my bed and wait. The bolt unlatches. The door opens. For a moment, my breath catches in my chest.
But the silhouette that slinks into my room is definitely not who I was expecting.
It’s not Renata. This woman is much shorter, much curvier. She moves like someone who knows the power her femininity has over men. She slinks around to draw the eye to her tiny waist, her tossing hips.
When she steps into the light, I get a better look at her. Her thick blonde hair cascades down her bare shoulders. She’s wearing a corset that has her breasts pushed up almost to her chin and a miniskirt that she might as well have forgone entirely for all the good it does in keeping her assets clothed.
The moment she’s inside, the door closes behind her—but the partition stays open.
She gives me a sultry smile. “My, my, you are much more handsome than they told me.”
She’s got the faintest hint of a Greek accent, but it’s almost entirely buried under the American twang that probably took her years to perfect.
I lean back against the cool wall and eye her calmly. “And who are you?”
“Anyone you want me to be, honey.”
I roll my eyes. “I think you have the wrong cell.”
She shakes her head. Even that manages to be sultry. The woman is good at what she does—whatever that is.
She glides forward, making sure to shake her hips for my benefit on the way. She settles at opposite corner of the bed, which puts her only a couple of inches away from me. Her skirt rides up higher as she crosses her legs, exposing the milky whiteness of her inner thighs.
When she’s settled in place, she reaches out and runs a finger down my chest. I slap her hand away and sigh impatiently.
“Do you have a name?” I sigh.
She looks shocked by the rejection, but she tries to recover fast. “Do you care?”
“That’s the only reason I’m asking.”
“Lotus.”
“Your real name.”
The flirty smile on her face falters ever so slightly. “Helena.”
“Helena,” I nod appreciatively. “Pretty.”
She tries to pivot off the compliment and back into character. “Do you think I’m pretty?” she asks.
I smile politely. Then, smile plastered in place, I say, “No.”
“No?” she repeats, her own smile faltering.
“You’re not my type, Helena. Not your fault.”
“What is your type?” she asks, trying hard to play the game despite the curveballs I’m throwing her.
“The type who isn’t trying to fuck confessions out of me.”
She giggles like I made a joke, though I’m not stupid enough to pretend this is anything other than a trap. “That’s not what I’m trying to do!”
“No?” I ask. “Who sent you in here to seduce me?”
She stays silent.
I smile. “Come on now, Helena. Let’s be honest with one another. You’re not here because you want to be, are you?”
“Of course I am,” she says robotically.
But really, what the hell else is she supposed to say? “What does Rokiades want from me?” I ask. “Just tell me and I’ll answer. Simple as that.”
“Nothing.”
My hand darts out suddenly, giving her no warning. She lets out a strangled little scream just as my fingers enclose around her throat. Her eyes bug out a little as I tighten gently. They’re grey, with little speckles of blue. Watery. Dull.
“I’ll ask again: why did he send you in here?”
“I… I don’t know… He… he told me to come to you and…”
“Seduce me?”
She nods desperately. I release her neck and she gasps, before backing away from me just a little.
“He didn’t say anything more?”
“No,” she says shakily. “I just follow orders. I don’t ask questions.”
I raise my eyebrows and she looks into her lap self-consciously. When she looks back up again, I can tell she’s going to make another attempt at salvaging the situation.
“I can’t say I’m disappointed, though,” she says. “You are a very handsome man. It makes a nice change from some of the others I’m sent to.”
“Is that right?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
She doesn’t seem to read too much into it. In fact, she seems to take that as encouragement. She swings off the bed and lands on her knees in front of me. The move is smooth and her expression turns confident.
Her breasts are right in front of me now. The corset is tight and so low, that I can almost make out the small nubs of her nipples.
The thing is, it does nothing for me. My cock remains completely apathetic to the sight.
“Get up,” I tell her impatiently.
A sliver of pride flits across her eyes. Not a woman who’s used to handling rejection. I’m probably the first man who’s ever turned her down.
She’s a stubborn one, though. She looks even more determined than before as she flips her thick blonde hair and chews at her lower lip.
“I like being on my knees,” she murmurs, running her tongue over her bottom lip.
“For fuck’s sake, stop talking,” I groan.
She smiles. “There’s one way to make me stop talking,” she trills. “You’ll have to fill my mouth up with something.”
When I
don’t say anything, she reaches out for the crotch of my pants.
I snatch her wrist out of the air halfway. “I told you no, Helena,” I hiss. “Run and tell Rokiades if it matters to you.”
“What do you want?” she asks, pleading. “I’ll do anything. What turns you on?”
“Not you.”
She bites down. “You want to take my ass?” she asks. “You want to choke me while you fuck me? You want to turn me over and hit me? All men have a thing.”
“I want you to leave. Now.”
Something in my face or voice must convince her, because Helena clambers to her feet. She moves to the door and glances back over her shoulder.
“It’s not about me, is it?” she asks softly.
And because I’m not a fucking asshole, I tell her the truth. Part of it, at least. “No, it’s not.”
I don’t add the other part. It’s about Renata.
She gives me a nod and wraps her knuckles against the door. It opens immediately and she heads out. I lie back on my bed, but before I can gather my thoughts, three guards step into my cell.
I get on my feet immediately as they approach me. The man at the head of the pack brandishes a pair of steel cuffs.
“Three lads, huh?” I ask mockingly. “I already told the girl no. Afraid I’m not interested in you boys, either. I’m flattered, though, seriously.”
The lead guard doesn’t say a word as he steps forward and shoves me against the wall with a nightstick. The other two descend behind them. I don’t put up much of a fight as I’m cuffed and forced out of the cell.
I’m curious to see what’s happening.
It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the sudden assault of brightness. I’m forced into the main body of the warehouse.
The wooden structure I’d been tied to the first week is back in place. I roll my eyes. “Back to this again?” I drawl. “You’ve had so long to come up with new ideas.”
The lead guard responds with a thwack of the nightstick against my abdomen.
As I double over, wheezing, the cuffs are removed and I’m quickly chained on either end, forcing my hands up and out. But at least my feet are left free.