Brando

by Marita A. Hansen

“No, it’s fun to me. I also like swimming.”

  He smiled cheekily. “You didn’t appear to like swimming last night.”

  “Not in my clothes!”

  “Obviously, and I’m sorry for lying to you last night.”

  “About what?”

  “You didn’t look like a drowned rat; you looked sexy, like someone I wanted to fuck.”

  She exhaled loudly. “Again, you’re making things sexual.”

  “I can’t help it, I’m a sexual person.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I think you are. So, is there anything you want to know about me, which isn’t to do with sex?”

  “The scars on your back.”

  He frowned. “Anything other than them.”

  “Why do you get people to whip you?”

  “It’s a sexual need.”

  “It looks more like punishment to me.”

  He sneered, making her wish she hadn’t asked. She wanted to see his lovely smile, not the cruel tilt to his lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “For taking your lovely smile away.”

  He frowned. “Someone else did that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned forward, kissing her.

  Even though she liked the kiss, she moved her head to the side. “Who took your lovely smile away?” she asked, wanting to know more.

  He exhaled loudly. “Why is everyone interrogating me?”

  “It’s not an interrogation; it’s curiosity, and you started these questions.”

  “Favorite foods, colors, TV programs and sex positions are safe territories, my past isn’t.”

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed, making him shift over. “My past isn’t safe either, but I wouldn’t hide it from anyone.”

  “Then tell me what’s not safe about it.”

  “I lost my virginity when I was fifteen after my employer raped me.”

  His face dropped.

  “A week later, I stabbed him in the heart for it. Because of that my family had to flee Germany. We found new employment with the Black Russian, who did far worse than the man who stole my virginity.”

  Brando’s face drained of color, his eyes so wide.

  She continued on, for some reason needing him to know. “He took me and Farah whenever he wanted to, and in the most degrading ways possible.”

  “Who’s Farah?” he croaked out, looking upset.

  “My oldest sister. He even fucked us in front of our mother once. A week later, our mother was dead. He lied, saying she died in a car accident, but Farah found out it was because our mother had attacked him for what he did to us. Farah tried to kill him in retaliation, but got her throat slit in front of all the Vipers. We lost our minds and attacked the Black Russian and his guards. More than half of us were slaughtered. We were gravely outnumbered, but when you see someone that you love murdered, you don’t use your brain, you use your heart.” She closed her eyes, still seeing the knife slicing across Farah’s throat.

  Brando wrapped his arms around her. “I will bring him to you.”

  Ivy opened her eyes. “Who?”

  “The Black Russian. No one should kill him but you.” He kissed her forehead and pushed to his feet.

  “Brando, where are you going?”

  “To get you the Black Russian so you can kill him.”

  “No!” She shot up. “You can’t go alone, you’ll be killed, plus the Vipers have been planning the attack on his palace for weeks with Ricardo. Your brother has already sent spies to Moscow and is finalizing a deal with the Orsini to get some more soldiers to help us.”

  Brando scowled. “You’re not going anywhere, and Ricardo should’ve sent me in alone.”

  “I told him you weren’t to be involved.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

  “That’s a nice sentiment, but I assure you, I’m quite capable of looking after myself. What you’ve just described is what I do for a living.”

  “It’s too dangerous to rush in blindly; it takes time to prepare against a man like the Black Russian.”

  “Not really, he’ll send me a plane if I ask to visit him.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he lusts after me. He’s offered me numerous beautiful women to fuck so I’d perform for him, which means I have an in to getting at him. I just have to work out a way to get him here.”

  She frowned. “My mother was beautiful, he killed her; my sister was beautiful, he killed her.”

  “He won’t kill me, and if he does, he’ll succeed where I’ve failed.” Brando tapped his head. “No great loss.”

  “I don’t want you to die!” she snapped. “And he’ll use you like he does with everyone else, then throw your body away when he’s finished. I’ve seen it happen too many times. And your back isn’t beautiful.”

  “No, it’s fascinating. It even turns some people on, and that bastardo will be one of those people, because unlike Pa...” he cleared his throat, “...he’ll get off on it.”

  “I still don’t want you going alone, if at all.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he’d already made up his mind. “Why’s that?”

  “I...” I care for you.

  “Until you can answer me, I’m going to arrange the trip.”

  “You don’t need to do that, I already told you Ricardo is setting up an army to take him down.”

  Brando sneered. “Then go fuck Ricardo for all I care.” He turned and pushed open the door.

  “Brando! I’m not fucking Ricardo.”

  He disappeared into the passageway.

  She ran after him. “Brando! Stop!” she snapped, ignoring her pounding head.

  He spun around. “Why?!”

  She stepped back, startled by his anger.

  His expression softened. “Just let me do this for you, Ivy. It’s what I wished someone had done for me.” He turned and headed into the lounge.

  She followed him across it. “But you don’t need to, everything’s sorted.”

  Ignoring her, he started ascending the staircase two steps at a time. Someone cried out, pulling her attention away from him. A loud crash followed, coming from the west wing. She went to investigate, gasping as she entered the passageway. Her sister staggered towards her, clutching her blood-soaked stomach. Ivy screamed as Menna collapsed.

  ***

  Ivy rushed for Menna, pure terror racing through her. She dropped to her knees and lifted up Menna’s shirt. Blood and a liquid tinged with pink was coming from a large knife wound in her pregnant belly, soaking everything. Horrified, Ivy placed her hands over the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

  “Help!” Ivy screamed. “Menna’s been stabbed!”

  A large figure appeared out of nowhere, sweeping Menna up into their arms. Ivy looked up at Salvatore. Brando’s second oldest brother appeared haggard. His dark beard was unkempt while his clothes were hanging off him, Salvatore having lost a lot of weight.

  Shouting out the doctor’s name, Salvatore rushed across the lounge with Menna. Ivy followed them with Brando close behind. They veered into the passageway that led to the medical room. The doctor emerged from it, ushering them in. His daughter pushed up from a desk, her concerned eyes going to Menna. She was a younger and softer version of her father, just with blonde hair and a voluptuous figure.

  Salvatore laid Menna on the doctor’s bed. Cesare turned to his daughter, barking out what he needed, the Santini having extensive medical facilities.

  Ivy rushed to the head of the bed, terrified her sister was going to die. Menna’s eyes went to her. Her mouth started moving, but no sound came out.

  “What are you saying?” Ivy said, barely containing herself. Her sister was everything to her, the one person she loved unconditionally—regardless of what Menna thought of her. She knew Menna didn’t respect her, but she held nothing but respect fo
r Menna, her sister a much better person than her.

  Menna finally said something, but it was too soft.

  “I can’t hear you, sister,” Ivy said.

  Menna lifted her hand. Ivy grabbed it and leaned her ear closer to Menna’s mouth as the doctor started working on her sister’s wound.

  “Cyn,” Menna croaked out.

  “What about Cyn?”

  “She stabbed me.”

  18

  Cyn sprinted for the back of the property, her legs moving as fast as they could go. Her hands were covered in Menna’s blood, while her cheeks were covered with tears. God, this was something she couldn’t be forgiven for. She had stabbed her leader for a bastard she hated with all her soul. But she hadn’t been given a choice! The Black Russian would’ve slaughtered her family if she didn’t carry through with his order.

  Her phone rang. Not slowing down, she pulled it out of her pocket and clicked it on, her eyes still on the tall fence in the distance.

  The Black Russian’s voice came over the line. “Have you succeeded?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Send me her heart.”

  “I can’t, I had to escape. One of the other Vipers saw me leave Menna’s room,” she said, dropping her pretend English accent. She was Ukrainian. The Russian Security Service had captured her during an unsuccessful raid on their embassy. They had tortured her, trying to get information on her cell, but she’d refused to talk ... until her family were dragged into the room. The bastards then started torturing them until she finally caved, spewing out everything to get them to stop.

  After her family was released, she was thrown into a cell. The day before she was meant to be executed, the Black Russian came looking for attractive men and women. He saved her ... so he could use her to infiltrate the Vipers. He took her to his palace, telling her that if she wanted her family to stay alive, she would do everything he told her. And she had, she just didn’t count on the feelings that came with the job, the Vipers becoming like sisters to her.

  And now she’d killed one of them, even worse, the one she respected the most.

  “Which Viper saw you?” the Black Russian asked.

  “Sae Ra.”

  “She won’t talk. I’m blackmailing her, too.”

  “I still can’t go back; I’m covered in Menna’s blood.” Cyn looked down at her right hand, still unable to get Menna’s shocked expression out of her mind.

  “Are you crying?” the Black Russian asked, his voice sounding disgusted.

  “No, I have a cold,” she lied.

  “I think you’re lying.”

  “When will you release my family?” she said, changing the subject.

  He snorted out a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to live up to my word, did you?”

  She stopped in her tracks, the fence only a few meters away. “What?”

  “They’re already dead.”

  She shook her head, the man obviously lying. “But, I spoke to my sister last night.”

  “Right before I fucked her and slit her throat.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “You know I’m not. By the way, your sister screamed when I took her—just like your brother did. They sounded the same. Whereas your parents ... I shot them after they witnessed it all.”

  “You’re lying!” she screamed again.

  “I only lie if there’s a purpose to it, and there’s no purpose in telling you this, which means you killed Menna for nothing. And don’t worry about sending me her heart.” He laughed. “I crushed that already. And one last thing, just in case you’re considering giving Sae Ra up, don’t, I can still kill your grandparents. All the best, Cyn. Book me a room in Hell so I can fuck you in the afterlife, too.” The phone went dead, the Black Russian hanging up on her.

  Cyn turned around and looked across the expansive property. Five soldiers on horseback were heading for her. She had enough time to scale the fence, but remained still, unable to move. Her family’s faces came to mind, then Menna’s as she plunged the knife into her pregnant belly.

  Cyn dropped to her knees and screamed.

  19

  Ivy squeezed her sister’s hand, reassuring Menna that she’d survive the stabbing ... although her unborn child wouldn’t—the Black Russian’s spawn no longer alive. Even though Menna hadn’t wanted the baby, right now the arm she was holding around her heavily bandaged stomach spoke of something else.

  “Would you like a drink?” a voice said behind her.

  Ivy glanced over her shoulder. Salvatore was standing with his shoulders slumped, his sweet blue eyes showing so much pain. She was shocked by how gaunt he’d grown within such a short period of time. He looked like he’d lost the will to live, the man now a shell of his former self. And to think she’d considered killing his wife so she could get him for her sister... It was unthinkable now. She was glad she hadn’t gone through with it; she just wished that Rosa had survived the Landi attack on the compound, because she hated seeing Salvatore like this, the man a sweetheart.

  “No, I’m not thirsty,” she answered him.

  Salvatore nodded, then took a seat a few feet away from Menna’s bed, looking like he was settling in for the long haul.

  “You don’t have to stay,” she said.

  “I have nowhere else to go but back to my room, so allow me to be of use.”

  “What about your children?”

  “Anna is looking after them.”

  The door opened, drawing Ivy’s attention to it.

  Brando strode in. “Cyn has been caught and is in a cell downstairs.”

  “I want to see her.” Ivy kissed Menna’s hand. “I’ll be back soon, Salvatore will watch over you.”

  She headed out of the room with Brando leading the way. She followed him through the archway and down a staircase she hadn’t used before. They entered a concrete room with three doors lining the wall. A soldier pushed up from a chair, greeting them.

  Ignoring the man, Brando focused on Ivy. “Don’t kill Cyn. We need to know why she stabbed Menna.”

  “I want to know, too.”

  “I can question her if you’d prefer. You’ll be affected by emotion, I won’t.”

  “No, I want to ask her.”

  “Okay.” He turned to the guard. “Open the door.”

  The man unlocked it. Ivy followed Brando into the room. Cyn was lying on the floor sobbing, with chains around her ankles and wrists.

  Not trusting her self-control, Ivy came to a stop several feet away from the woman. “Why did you do it, Cyn?”

  Cyn looked up. The whites of her eyes had gone red, the woman’s anguish rolling off her in waves. “He promised if I killed Menna he wouldn’t harm them, but they were already dead,” she answered, her voice no longer sounding British, but Slavic. “He made them suffer because of me.” Her sobs grew louder, the woman’s body wracked with pain.

  “Who are dead?”

  “My mother and father...” Cyn’s sobs picked up, making it hard to understand her, “as well as my br-brother and si-si-sister,” she let out a wail, “all dead because of me.”

  A tear ran down Ivy’s cheek. She didn’t need to ask who had killed them. Only one man was that cruel—the Black Russian.

  “I understand why you did it,” Ivy said. “But I can never forgive you for it. You will remain in here for taking my sister’s unborn child’s life, and you better pray that Menna doesn’t die or you will pay with more than your life, that’s if I let you live past tonight.”

  “Kill me now!” Cyn screamed. “Please!”

  Ivy turned around, knowing Cyn was now in her own personal hell. She didn’t need death to get there, whereas the Black Russian did. Ivy wanted to bring the murderer down to his knees and make him reap all the suffering he’d caused.

  And she knew how to do it: through the Black Russian’s precious sister.

  Blood for blood.

  Sister for sister.

  20

  Ivy followed Menna int
o the Great Hall. It was the main dining room in the Black Russian’s Moscow palace, a grand statement filled with blinding opulence. Reds, blues, and creams decorated the walls and ceiling with gold leaf embellishing the patterns. Above, four crystal chandeliers hung over a long white table that could accommodate a hundred people, the room often used for official functions. On the floor, rich red carpet with darker patterns swept the large room, the color matching the windows’ flowing drapery.

  Ivy sat down near the top of the table with Menna. The other Vipers flowed into the room, taking seats on either side. The Black Russian had called a meeting, stating it was to do with Farah—Ivy and Menna’s oldest sister.

  Menna elbowed Ivy. “Farah’s going to be rewarded for her service. My love mentioned it in bed last night.”

  Ivy grimaced at the word love, hating that Menna had fallen for the Black Russian. Farah believed that Menna had Stockholm syndrome, but Ivy disagreed. Instead, the Black Russian had manipulated Menna into loving him, lavishing her with so much attention and praise she couldn’t help but fall for him, the bastard a silver-tongued devil. When Ivy had first met him, she’d thought he was charming too, even attractive, despite his numerous tattoos, but then she’d quickly discovered what he was really like ... a sadistic bastard who took great pleasure in mind-fucking people, something he did with ease.

  The sound of marching came from the entrance, making Ivy turn her head. A parade of Black Guards filed into the room in an orderly fashion, the beautiful men taking up position along the walls. They were dressed in their finest uniforms and had ceremonial swords in their scabbards, the men truly stunning to look at. The Black Russian only surrounded himself with beautiful people, everyone within the room picture perfect.

  “See, I told you Farah was going to be rewarded,” Menna said, smiling wide. “The Black Guards only wear that uniform for official occasions.”

  Ivy didn’t answer, more interested in watching Sasha. The Black Guard came to a halt near the head of the table, taking up position only a few feet away from her. As always, he looked absolutely mouth-watering—the man a blond Adonis with a face and body chiseled to perfection.

  He glared back at her, his gray eyes filled with so much hate. It stabbed at Ivy’s heart, because she felt nothing but love for him. They’d been seeing each other in secret for just over six months ... until the Black Russian had found out. Since the Black Guards weren’t permitted to have relationships with the Vipers, they’d been punished severely, Sasha taking the brunt of it.