by Bonny Capps
David slumps down in his chair as his tired eyes travel to the window. “As you wish, son. As you wish.”
Alexei nods before turning and leaving. My eyes travel to David as he leans back in his chair. “He’ll be fine.”
“He’s an idiot.” David snorts, his gaze traveling to the window. “When he was born, I was sure that he would be a great leader. I had no doubt.”
“You doubt him now? Why?”
He scoffs. “He’s not a true leader. He’s too weak. So often he trusts in this.” David pauses and points to his heart before his finger taps his temple. “Rather than this.”
I laugh before pulling my smokes from my pant pocket. “There is nothing wrong with a little heart. It’s better than being heartless.”
“You’re one to talk,” David argues. “Did you shed a tear when your daughter died, or your brother? You are a Vavilov. Vavilovs know nothing of compassion, or love.”
My jaw tenses as I rest the cigarette between my pursed lips. “And you are any different? Look at the business you’re involved in. We are all heartless. Maybe somebody with some heart would change some things that need changing.”
“Like what? The Dmitrievs believe in the people. We help the community whereas the Vavilovs only care about power and greed. Has your cousin stood on the streets of Moscow offering the homeless food? Have you? You say that our bratva has loyal clientele, why do you think that is? When Roman Averin died, his family almost lost their home. They didn’t, though, because we stepped in and paid his debts. When Stepan Ananyev lost his hand and could no longer work, we stepped in and paid the bills. We still do.”
David stands, tucking his hands in his pockets and facing the window. The first flakes of snow have begun to fall. Winter is here.
“The problem is that Alexei’s heart is in the right place, yet his head is not. He loves his sister. I know he does. However, while he thinks he is doing the right thing, he is not. We have to be careful. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to Sofia or Eva. If her mother were alive—”
“She’d kill you,” I respond simply. “She loved Sofia.”
He sighs. “Yes. And she will haunt me for what I’ve done. She already does.”
“So let Alexei try and fix what you have done. You say his head isn’t in the game, but I beg to differ.”
“He hates you,” David murmurs.
“I know,” I respond. “You should hate me too.”
He turns and gives me a halfhearted smile. “I never said that I didn’t. We both have our secrets. If I fuck you over, you’d do the same to me. Unless I kill you first.”
I glare at him. “I have a feeling your secrets will tell themselves.”
He walks towards me, but stops just as his shoulder grazes mine. “Yes,” he whispers. “The same could be said for yours.”
“Yes! Beautiful! Set her down, Ilia, I wish to kiss her!” Sergei exclaims as Ilia lowers me to my feet.
I glide towards his grinning face before he rests his palms over my cheeks. “You are a star!” he whispers before placing a kiss over each of my cheeks. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and I try and catch his eyes as they bounce back and forth between mine. “I doubted you. You are fantastic!”
Sergei pushes away from me, doing a little dance over the ice before coming back to me, grasping my shoulders, “Come out with us! Celebrate your victory!”
I laugh, “Victory?”
“My dear.” He laughs and my eyes travel between his smiling face and Ilia’s. “You are a star!”
I smile, looking towards Ilia and then Sergei. But then, I see Dimitri beyond the glass sporting the sinister smile that belongs to only him. “I can’t,” I respond. “Dimitri and I, we already made plans. Today is his birthday.”
Sergei looks over his shoulder. “Of course. I would hate to keep you away from that delicious specimen.”
I smirk when his eyes lock onto mine. “What? A man can look, can’t he? This place is like a candy store, overflowing with delicious treats that I would like to taste. I can’t imagine that any of them play on my side of the fence?”
I shake my head. “Not that I’m aware of, and if any of them do, they hide it well.”
Sergei nods, “Well, Ilia and I will be on our way. Leave you to celebrate with your husband.” He pauses and embraces me in a friendly hug. “Be sure to keep practicing your footwork. You will be competing before you know it.”
“I will,” I sigh.
When Sergei and Ilia leave, Dimitri stays on the other side of the glass. He only watches me, his warm breath fogging the slick, clear surface. My thighs tremble and I bite my lip when I think of his breath over my neck … between my thighs. He twists my stomach into so many knots with a look alone.
The track automatically switches, and a dark melody floods over my personal rink. The hair on my arms raise as I lift my hands and begin removing the pins from my hair, freeing several locks at a time until my hair is no longer restrained.
My muscles ache, but not from practice, they ache because they wish to move, glide, and send me flying into the air. My shoulder blades pinch momentarily, before relaxing. Releasing my lip from the clutches of my teeth, I spread my arms and kick off.
This is a very personal gift that I give him; perhaps even more personal than what is to occur below later on today. There will be blood on my hands, but it’s not by my will. What is to occur below the floors of this dacha is for Dimitri’s gain.
What is occurring on the ice in this very moment is my heart being opened wide. The force between us is relentless, seemingly pulling me towards him across the ice one second before I drift further once again. The movement is like us, push and pull. Mistrust traded for trust. Fear traded for confidence. Aloofness traded for affection. Hate traded for love.
Love is a mask that I wear. It shields my heart and allows my surrender.
Without my façade, I am a mere peasant; I am no longer royalty. If I become a slave once more, I lose his admissions, I lose his trust, and I lose his confidence. He is counting on me to be strong, but not as much as me and Eva. Without my reign, we are dead.
I plan on taking my fictitious crown to the grave, whether it be mine or his.
Once the song ends, my skates scrape to an abrupt stop. My chest heaves and my eyes slowly travel to his on the other side of the glass. His lips part, allowing another hot breath to pour from his lips before he lifts his hand and writes “Come” with his index finger.
A shaky sigh escapes me as I fold my hands in front of me and drift to the door on the side of the rink. Once I step up onto the carpeted platform surrounding the rink, I look towards him.
“Take off your clothes, Sofia,” he rasps, not looking towards me.
Slumping onto the bench, I work on unlacing my skates before kicking them off and standing. Quickly, I remove my yoga pants and panties before moving onto my shirt and sports bra.
The cold air of the rink causes goosebumps to raise across my skin and my nipples pebble as my breaths work their way furiously in and out of my lungs.
He stands motionless in the same spot where he watched me perform minutes ago with his hands tucked in his pockets. Licking my lips, my eyes travel over his body. He is a tall, lean, beautifully intimidating man. His lips are pursed, and his dark eyelashes hide his enigmatic eyes. His face is lax, and his lips magnificently pursed – begging to be kissed, sucked, and bitten.
He’s waiting for me, just as I’m waiting for him—but am I to give in so easily? Am I to fall at his feet or throw myself into his arms? Something tells me that isn’t what he wants, that it’s the hunt that he craves. To chase and defeat. To claim and to own.
He craves my desire, yet, also my defeat. In order to keep him from crushing me in all other aspects, if I keep him hungry intimately … maybe that will feed his desires.
She is watching me just like I’ve watched her, time and time again. What am I to do? I’m losing her. She’s slipping from my grip. Who is this
woman? What monster have I created? Can she be tamed?
My sanity is entirely in her hands. She is Lady Justice, holding onto my conscience. It leans if she does; it falters whenever she fucks up.
I remember her so sad, so lost, and so frightened in the cage below. I saw her, and I couldn’t turn away. I should’ve known then that she would eventually become my obsession. I have never obsessed over anything. I was too good for that—too powerful.
But her, with her white hair and her doe eyes, she is a force that threatens to overcome me—the man that I am, the one that I’ve come to know so well. I’d thought that I was set in my ways. I’d thought that the opinion that I had of myself couldn’t be swayed.
No. I lied to myself, and I was stupid enough to allow her inside. I was foolish enough to give her a part of myself.
Looking at her from the corner of my eye, my gaze travels over her body. Once again, she is healthy … she is strong, in a feminine way. I love her body when it’s like this; at its best. Her breasts are perky, her nipples pointing up whenever she’s cold, like she is now. Her stomach is lean, toned, and her thighs are thick and athletic. Her body begs to be touched by a look alone. She calls to me like nobody ever has, and I’m afraid that I’ve allowed myself to be disillusioned to a fact that should be so simple, yet it’s so hard for me to believe.
Do I truly love this woman?
Would I die for her? I know I would kill for her. I know that I’ve made sacrifices for her, but would I give my own life for hers? Isn’t that the definition of love? I would have died for Mama. I know that Mama was the only one who has shown me love.
My eyes flit to my finger and trace the ring that Sofia had given me. The mouse and the skull.
She is the mouse, and I am the dead man.
Ripping the ring from my finger, I stalk towards her before holding it in front of her eyes. “What does this mean to you?” I sneer.
Her eyes never leave mine as I hold the gift before her, but then her lips curl up into a smile.
“Tell me, Sofia!” I scream, but she doesn’t flinch. My heart beats erratically. I’m losing my mind.
“What’s wrong? I thought you liked it?” she says, her tone laced with sarcasm, and that does nothing to calm me.
I hurl the ring, and she watches as it slides over the slick ice before it stops almost right in the center of the rink. “Why are you angry with me, Dimitri?” she asks, her once mocking tone has turned hollow. “I gave you something for your birthday. I thought you’d like it. I wanted you to like it.”
My hand flies out and my fingers wrap around her slender neck; causing her to gasp as her eyes grow wide. My arm shakes as my digits tighten around the milky flesh, and then I’m lifting her—watching her face turn red before it transitions to different shades of purple.
I release her, and she falls to the ground; gasping for air as she claws at her neck. I drop to my knees and flip her over on all fours. My dick hurts from the need. It takes hurting her for me to get like this. For me to want her so badly, that the only release is to be inside.
Shoving into her, I tangle my fingers in her hair and growl, “Stop fucking with me, or I will kill you right after I slaughter that baby in front of your eyes. What a video that would make, don’t you think?”
I hear a light knock on the office door before I look up and see Benedikt Bogrov “Hello, Benedikt. So nice to see you again. Please, take a seat.”
He chuckles before removing his fedora and takes a seat across my desk. “You are here to retrieve your date?”
He smirks, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Yes. I thought you would bring her to me, but she’s worth the trip.”
I nod, my teeth grinding as I watch him carefully. “I take it she pleased you last time?”
Benedikt shrugs. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Yes,” I murmur before standing and pouring us each a shot of vodka. “She is definitely, how do I say it …”
“She is a beautiful mess,” he finishes for me, and I stop pouring momentarily.
“Ya, that’s it. Do me a favor. Do not be so gentle next time. Do not take it slow. Do not kiss her so tenderly. She has been misbehaving. She needs to be taught a lesson, and she needs to learn respect.”
“I assume you will be watching again?” He asks as I hand him the glass.
I scoff. “Of course. Though I can’t say that I necessarily enjoy watching you stick your dick in my wife.”
“We could always call it off,” he responds, and I shake my head before taking a seat once more.
“No. No, we have to make this work.” Reaching into my desk drawer, I slide the manila envelope towards him. “I’m afraid that we are being watched. The United States government is looking for her. If it takes you sleeping with her to keep them away, so be it. I cannot lose her.”
“So you risk her being with another? I do not know if that is love, of selfishness,” he responds.
I sigh. “Perhaps both. Another thing, I need you to look into my cousin’s whereabouts. Look into a possible arrest, only do not jail him … I want you to bring him to me.”
He shakes his head. “Vadim? Why?”
My jaw clenches as I trace my finger around the rim of the glass. “He betrayed me in the worst way, and he needs to pay.”
Benedikt downs his shot before placing the glass on the desk. “First, you have me issue warrants for a rival gang, then you ask me to sway the media in regards to Sofia’s disappearance, and now Vadim? Your father was a good friend to me, Dimitri. You are asking me to betray him.”
“I am his son,” I sneer.
He laughs. “Vadim was his most trusted. He loved him like a son, and you … he resented you like a mistake.”
I blink at his words. “What do you need in return?”
He smiles deviously as he leans forward in the chair. “Three days with Sofia. No cameras. Just me and her. If you can do that, then I will be in your debt … for now.”
I pour the shot down my throat and allow the burn to keep me aware in this moment; away from the thoughts of her being with this old fuck. It is not her betrayal, but my own. “Fine,” I rasp. “But not tonight. Tonight, I will be spending time with my wife. The party is in several days. You can take her afterwards.”
“That’s a shame. I was looking forward to having her tonight.”
My face burns as my blood pressure rises. “You may go to her room. An hour at the most. I have plans for us tonight.”
He nods as he stands. “An hour tops,” he murmurs before turning and leaving my office.
My gaze travels to my laptop. Flipping it open, I turn on the surveillance video to our bedroom. Sitting back in the chair, I watch her as she stares out the window. She’s wearing the pearls that I bought her along with a red cashmere dress and heels.
She startles when the door opens, and smiles when she sees him enter. Concern crosses her face, but her smile doesn’t falter when he approaches her.
He isn’t gentle this time, and I watch her mouth snap open to let out a scream that I cannot hear across the dacha. The pearls that she wears is snatched from her neck, and I watch the tiny beads slide in every which direction across the hardwood floors.
Benedikt Bogrov doesn’t take any time ripping the dress from her body before he holds her down on the bed. Shoving into her, he locks one hand around her neck before striking her with the other. He continues to use her as her body convulses, and tears stream down her cheeks, smudging her mascara.
My desk phone rings, and I retrieve it without saying a word.
“It’s Konstantin. Someone is in your room hurting your wife. What am I to do?”
I sigh, tearing my tear brimmed eyes from the screen and looking towards the window. “Leave it.”
“But—”
“Leave it, Konstantin,” I snap before slamming the phone down.
He finally gets off of me, and I immediately curl into a fetal position as he zips up his fly. “That was nice. Very nice. I pr
efer it rough. Your husband’s approval was appreciated.”
I shiver when he leans down and kisses my swollen cheek. “Until next time.”
He leaves me alone, and my body shivers; my mind spent. One moment, I’m safe—and the next, someone is hurting me. Someone is always using me. My body isn’t my own. It belongs to a man far too powerful for his own good.
Hurting, for lack of a better word, is what my purpose is in this place. Paying debts that do not belong to me, but to somebody else entirely.
What sets him off? What makes him tick? I can’t for the life of me figure it out, yet it’s all that I want. It’s the only way that I can control his outbursts. That is what my life is now, pleasing a man only to keep myself and my daughter out of harm’s way.
I’m afraid that he isn’t finished with my punishment yet. First in the rink, and then the politician. What’s next? What else will he do? Will he harm Eva because of the gift that I gave him? There was an underlying meaning to that ring, but it’s not what he thinks … or is it? He never gives me any reasoning as to why he does what he does. I can’t read his mind.
I can’t fix this if I do not know how.
The door creaks open once more, but I don’t bother looking. It’s him. It’s always him. He’ll either kiss away the marks, or he’ll contribute to them. Life with Dimitri is like being on a seesaw. A never ending seesaw. One moment I’m up, and the next I’m down. There is no in-between. There is no balance.
“Get up. Meet me in the shower.”
That’s all he says as he stalks to the bathroom. There isn’t any time to sit and sulk, to feel bad for myself under these circumstances. I never have time to lick my wounds or to overthink, which probably isn’t a bad thing. I would have ended myself long ago if that were the case. I would have taken Eva’s life before I took my own. So, I’m thankful for the constant need to survive blow after blow. The adrenaline never wears off; my heart never slows down. The constant anxiety will likely kill me first before I ever get a chance to run a razor across my wrists.