I waited until the maid brought in the tray before I started speaking. “This isn’t working out for me. This whole thing where you force your way into my life just isn’t reasonable. Speaking of unreasonable, what’s up with you leaving your tailored clothes in my closet? You and Robin need to work something out. I didn’t take your money, and I am not going to be held liable for it.”
“Okay, I kill her.” His heavily accented words pierced the airwaves.
“I don’t care. Kill her.”
His laughter filled the room. “This is why I like you. You’re a survivor, like me.”
I scrunched my lip up in distaste. “I’m nothing like you.”
His face instantly changed and a very cold demeanor washed over his countenance. He interlocked his fingers and rested his chin on them as he spoke.
“Do you think you are better than me? Because I am a criminal, do you think you are above me? You are very naïve. I am a necessary evil.”
“I don’t think I’m better than anyone. What I do think is that this is Robin’s problem, not mine.”
Though his demeanor was calm, his eyes had changed. They were no longer blue but, instead, looked grey and lifeless.
“As amusing as it is to me that you think you have a choice, I’m losing my patience with you. You can throw your friend under the bus, as the Americans say, and I will kill her and still keep you. What part of you are being blackmailed don’t you get?”
This discussion was not going the way I had planned.
“Glazov, you can’t just blackmail people to make them do what you want them to do; it isn’t ethical.”
Once again, his laughter rang through the air. “I can’t believe you are that fucking naïve.”
With no warning whatsoever, he spoke in his Russian dialect into a speaker. I watched, horrified, as two huge Neanderthal looking men pulled me out of my chair and led me up a winding staircase. They led me down a long hallway that had rooms on either side much like a hotel would have. They stopped and unlocked a door.
They pulled me inside, and I took in my surroundings. The room was completely empty except for a black swing looking chair that hung from the ceiling.
One of Glazov’s goons picked me up and placed me in the swing as if I weighed no more than a child. I awkwardly sunk down into the swinging device and watched in disbelief as they turned and left, locking the door on their way out to leave me in complete darkness.
I listened for any evidence of sound. When I continued to hear nothing but silence, I began the struggle of trying to get out of the chair, but it was futile. I was trapped. I was sunk down helplessly into a chair that wouldn’t release me. After several moments of awkward struggling, I let myself relax and contemplated my situation. No matter how I tried to reason with this man, there was no getting through to him. What the fuck did he want from me?
I began to cry as I thought about how helpless I felt. Not since I was a child, could I remember a time I had felt this vulnerable. I’d done everything in my power to ensure I would never be at someone’s mercy, yet here I was, completely helpless. I hated him for doing this to me, and I hated Robin for putting me in this situation. I literally sobbed myself to sleep in the dark.
I don’t know how long I slept. When I awoke in the pitch dark, terror seized me. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and still, no one came for me. I was hungry, I was thirsty, I had to pee, and I was scared. I screamed, begged, cried, and still, no one came.
Suddenly, as if a light went off in my head, I understood. I spoke in a barely audible whisper and said five small words, “I’ll do what you want.” I knew he had to have been watching me on surveillance because, almost immediately, I heard familiar footsteps. Light flooded the room when the door opened.
I closed and opened my eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light now permeating the room, and what I saw brought me anything but peace of mind.
Glazov
“Ptichka, Ptichka, Ptichka, I try very hard to be patient with you, but you make it so very difficult for me.”
I smacked the ruler that I held against my other hand for emphasis. “Normally, I would dispense this form of punishment with a cane, which hurts very badly. Because you are still so ignorant of my lifestyle, I’m going to use this ruler.”
“Do you know what bastinado is?” I gave her no time to answer, just continued to talk. It is a form of torture that some prefer because it leaves no visible marks. It fucking hurts like hell though.” I watched as she began to furiously shake her head back and forth as tears and snot streamed down her face.
“I like your feet; you have nice feet.”
She cried out as I smacked down on one of her soles.
I continued alternating between each foot until her cries became sobs.
“You want to run from me, Ptichka? Have you forgotten you owe me one hundred fucking thousand dollars?”
I leaned against the wall and fought the urge to become sexually excited by her pain.
“I warned you, Ptichka. I told you I enjoyed inflicting pain. I find a woman’s pain to be very erotic. Whether you want to admit it or not, your body responds to my sadistic nature. Perhaps you have a secret side you’re unaware of. Perhaps I’m unveiling a truth you have hidden from the world, from yourself.”
I landed blow after blow on the soles of her feet, and even though I constrained the force of my strikes, she would never forget this form of discipline. I had chosen this form of punishment because it fit her offense perfectly. She wanted to run. Well, it would be pretty fucking hard to do that when the soles of her feet were so sore they couldn’t carry the weight of her rebellion to cross me.
“I will be good. I should have used the phone. Please, please, let me down. It hurts so badly! Please, everything fucking hurts from being immobilized.” All I heard were incoherent sobs and broken words as she begged and pleaded for mercy.
Though I was certain some of my employees could hear her cries, I knew no one would come to her aid. In my house, I’m in control, and she would remember it from this day forward. She had underestimated the level of cruelty I would use to get my way. I highly doubted she would do it again, not any time soon anyway.
“Get her down, Yafon.” He could hear my voice over the surveillance, and he immediately entered the room to do as I commanded.
When he lifted her out, I caught her in my arms and carried her to my suite where I gently undressed her and laid her nude body down. I undressed and positioned my body between her legs. I began gently running my tongue up and down her slit. In no time, she was begging me to let her come. I made her wait. I wanted her to come with me inside her. She opened her legs and pulled them back as if inviting me in. I knew she would be confused when she tried to process why her body would betray her to a monster like me, but it was all part of my plan.
I was so fucking turned on by the concoction of pain and pleasure I was mixing for her. Her confusion showed, and it only fed my sadistic nature. By the time I was finished with her, she would question everything but me. The biggest question in the forefront of her mind would be how her body could betray her to me. I knew exactly what I was doing; I was purposely fucking with her head in order to gain control. I wanted her, and I would do whatever it took to secure getting what I wanted. All bets were off when she said she was leaving. She was bringing out a very malicious side of me, and her independence was no match for a man who was born and bred Bratva.
I ground down into her, gently rotating my hips as I spoke to her in her weakened state, “I told you not to play with me. I told you not to disobey me. I explicitly told you not to attempt to leave me. My little bird, don’t force me to clip your beautiful wings.”
After today, she would know she was dealing with a very serious man—a man who said what he meant and meant what he said. She’d done exactly what I warned her against; she’d underestimated me. I highly doubted she would make the mistake again.
Even though I knew it should resonate with her by now t
hat she was my property, I also knew it was in her nature to be an independent woman. I would be keeping a very watchful eye on my little Ptichka. Perhaps it was time to take more drastic measures. After all, a woman bound by blood wouldn’t be so quick to run away.
Kathleen
As I lied beneath my blackmailer, I wondered what he was doing to me. Why was I beginning to crave the way he hurt and pleasured me? My body craved him, and it craved his cruel treatment of me. The way he sadistically toyed with me was just as much mental as it was physical. Perhaps he was bringing out some hidden vixen at the core of my being. Maybe, deep inside, there was a wanton woman who craved what only my forbidden Russian lover could give me.
It was as if a dark fog had drifted into my world, and he would not be satisfied until I was completely engulfed, hidden in obscurity from the rest of creation, with my presence made known only to him.
I have never experienced a man like Glazov, and I can’t see myself ever recovering from his fixation on me. I realize now that my life, as I knew it, is gone. He will never give up in his pursuit of me. Even after he attains what he wants, the battle will still rage on because the will to fight lives inside both of us. The push/pull magnetism we have with one another is an attraction that will never go away. Until the day we die, we will always be in each other’s thoughts, unable to get the other out of our systems. It was as if fate ordained we should be together. Nothing will quiet the primal voice inside us, the animal calling for its mate in the dark of night. It is our destiny to be joined, and no amount of resistance will hinder the Bratva boss from taking his chosen woman.
Glazov
She’s already beginning to crave me, and it isn’t solely attributable to me pushing it on her. It was something that was in her long before I ever came along. It may have been dormant before, but now it was wide awake and wanted me; it needed me. She wanted me, and she needed me, just like I needed her. This could prove to be a very dangerous addiction for the both of us if we weren’t careful, but fuck it. Safety is overrated.
She was called to this destiny just as I was—from birth. She has no idea how deeply embedded she is in my world. She’s clueless to the fact that she is no different than I am. She was born to be Bratva just as I was, and she will bear my children so they may continue the legacy our ancestors began.
No amount of fighting will change the fact that she can’t run from what she was born to be. It will only cause her unnecessary pain. As much as we desire control over our destinies, we’re born with innate traits, and we must fulfill the roles we’ve been given. I was born to lead in the Bratva, and she was born to rule by my side. I’m only here to help guide her in her journey—in our journey—starting a family that is Bratva born.
Chapter Six
Kathleen
“I don’t know about this, Kathleen. Don’t you think you should let him know what’s going on? Just tell him that we have to leave and go out of town for a meeting with a client.”
I turned to glare at my assistant. It pissed me off he had gotten to her too. I wondered if he followed her, threatened her, or sent his goons to assure her she wasn’t out of danger even though I had been given as a pawn for her gambling debt.
She lightly brushed my arm with her fingertips and looked at me earnestly. Something in me softened at her gentle touch, and the pleading look in her eyes let me know I needed to listen.
“Kathleen,” she spoke as she booted up her computer and turned the monitor around to face me. I looked down to view a picture of Alexander Glazov with an older gentleman.
“Alexander’s father was number one on the FBI’s Top Fifteen Crime Bosses and Drug Lords list. When he died, that honor went to your new boyfriend. Alexander doesn’t just kill people; he enjoys torturing and tormenting them before their final demise. He is ruthless, and the only reason he hasn’t unleashed the full measure of his sadistic tendencies on you is because he realizes you aren’t a masochist. This family goes back hundreds of years. When you add the fact Glazov is Bratva to the fact that he’s a sadist, it makes for a lethal combination. There are men who kill out of anger, and there are men who kill for survival. Glazov kills because he enjoys it. Not only does he enjoy the actual act, he enjoys the preparation as well. Even worse than that, it’s said that he enjoys toying with his victims for hours, sometimes days, before striking the final blow.”
“You got all that information from the Internet?” I asked.
“I had to go through some back doors, and I had to use a contact I have in the TV industry who did a documentary on the family. He wasn’t permitted to use all the information he gathered during the interviews, but he was able to fill me in on secret things he discovered while making his film.”
“I had planned on doing that myself. I wanted to investigate his family, but I haven’t had time.” I resisted telling her the reason I haven’t had time. Dealing with my gangster boyfriend’s antics was a full time job in and of itself.
I squirmed in my seat as I thought about how my body had now begun to crave the fear and pain he provided. Though I had no desire to experience the full depths of his sadism, I did enjoy the fear and anticipation he provoked within me. It was almost as if his threats and rough treatment during sex served as an aphrodisiac. Much to my horror, I found I really enjoyed having a hand around my throat and threats growled in my ear while getting my brains fucked out.
Sexually, whether I wanted to admit it or not, Alexander Glazov touched a place deep in the dark recesses of me that I hadn’t even been aware of. He awakened a dormant part of my soul that no one else had ever tapped in to, and now I wanted more. Because of him, I now knew that being pinned against a wall with my arms held in his tight grip while he shoved his hand up my dress and dared me to move was a turn-on for me. I never knew what he was going to do or when he was going to do it, and the excitement of being at the mercy of his dangerous will was becoming a nasty little drug I craved.
“I’ll call him when we arrive,” I said softly.
Robin closed the laptop, satisfied with my decision.
Glazov
I sat in the corner of the restaurant and watched my little Ptichka. She really was quite naïve for such a savvy businesswoman. I could only attribute her ignorance of my lifestyle to the fact that she had never dealt with the likes of me.
In her world, people might be underhanded, but they weren’t violent. She was sorely underestimating me, and it was beginning to irritate me. She didn’t want to do that, but it was too late. She had crossed that line one too many times. I had tried being patient with her, but my patience was wearing thin.
I guess, in a sense, I underestimated her as well. I mistakenly believed the little bastinado session I had with her would have convinced her not to run away. Yet, she still believed she could just hop a plane and leave town without telling me. Perhaps something more sinister than a little foot whipping was in order.
I waited until she finished lunch with her client before I made my presence known. I held my glass in the air and saluted her as I cocked my head to the side. The look on her face… well, let’s just say it was priceless!
She made her way over to my table, and I motioned for her to sit down.
When she attempted to speak, I shook my head and placed my finger to my lips to signify that I was not in the mood to hear her excuses. I would be the one doing the talking.
“Your little friend is upstairs with Yafon right now. She is bound to a chair and gagged while he awaits my instructions. I would hate to think you were the cause of her children growing up motherless. My patience is wearing thin with you, Ptichka. I warned you I was not a patient man, yet you continue to provoke me. Now, I remember, quite clearly, you threw her under the bus and told me to kill her, but I wonder if you truly understand the impact of sanctioning her murder.”
I leaned in and glared at her. “The issue at hand is that I see this as a golden opportunity to feed the sadist within me. I’m intrigued with the thought of making you watc
h me torture her before Yafon kills her. Imagining what happens during a torture session is one thing; actually viewing it is another. Add in the fact that she is your friend, and I can assure you it will be you screaming for her mercy, not her. Torture sessions can become very intense. I’ve chosen to hire men who are able to not only endure watching them, but they also enjoy watching them. However, I have witnessed cases where full-grown men needed to leave the room. Think before you speak, Ptichka, because you very well could be getting more than you bargained for.
Kathleen
I eyed the waitress as she made her way over. Glazov never dropped his gaze from my face and just shooed her away with his hand as if she were some pest. Though his outward appearance remained calm, I knew he was pissed, and it only made me even more fearful. I didn’t know what he was going to do.
I straightened my back and squared my shoulders before I spoke, “What do you want from me, Glazov?”
He snarled as he leaned over the table and hissed, “I want you!”
“Why?” I answered.
“You have the fucking audacity to question my motives, Ptichka?”
“Yes, I do. Am I just property to you, or do you actually care about me?”
“Both! Now, get your fucking ass up, and don’t you dare make a scene,” he growled.
I was led out to a limo and driven to a tarmac where he escorted me onto his plane.
I sat in the seat and immediately started protesting. “I don’t have my clothes or my laptop, and where is Robin?”
He sat stone-faced and unresponsive until the plane took off. His answer, when he finally did speak, only baffled me further. He eyed me coldly and commanded, “Strip!”
My hands shook as I stood up and stripped down until I was completely bare.
Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) Page 5