Debase

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Debase Page 25

by Rachel Van Dyken


  And I knew in that moment, I would do anything, anything to one day be able to say that Andrei Petrov gave me not just his body, but his heart too. His soul.

  “I can’t—” He started and stopped. “Alice you have all of me, and I care for you more than anything in this godforsaken world. You mean more to me than—”

  “Stop.” I pressed a kiss to his chin. “I didn’t expect you to say it back. I just wanted you to know how I feel, how I will always feel about you.”

  I saw it then, the shift in his gaze like he was hiding something, like things weren’t as okay as he’d told me they were.

  “Andrei?”

  I will never forget the minute — the second — he went from being vulnerable to the man I’d met before, the one with the masks and the faces. Only this time I could see the visual struggle, could feel every muscle tense in his body like his heart was fighting his mind.

  And all I kept thinking was don’t. Don’t give in. Stay with me, Dear God please stay with me.

  But this was Andrei.

  He didn’t.

  He left.

  It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen, watching Andrei Petrov look at me with an empty smile and whisper, “Let me make you food and we can talk about this later.”

  I had given him everything I had.

  And he was dismissing me.

  Dismissing us.

  The mattress moved, just enough for me to pay attention as I glanced down at our feet and noticed his tapping against an invisible surface.

  And all I could think about was one word.

  Lie.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Andrei

  I HAD WINE and cheese delivered and brought it into the bedroom, a room I never wanted to leave.

  And that was the problem.

  The minute you expose every vulnerability you have to someone, you give them every fucking tell and you can’t hide, and you don’t want to because when they accept you, you feel safe.

  And I felt safe.

  With her, I felt the safest I’d ever felt.

  And I both loathed and loved her for it.

  She had no idea the power she had, the struggle I was dealing with in trying to stay sane and not tell her the whole sordid mess I was in.

  Because I knew it wouldn’t end the way either of us wanted it to, I knew if I fought for her, she could die. I wouldn’t risk her life. Only mine.

  They wouldn’t accept her.

  Would rather kill her than let her marry me even though they had no idea I’d never marry, because I’d already pledged my vows to her, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t legal, because in my heart, my soul, it was as real as marriage would get.

  I was hers.

  She was mine.

  “You’d tell me, if something was wrong, right?” Alice took a long sip of wine and stared at me over the glass rim. “Andrei?”

  “No,” I said honestly, my voice felt cold, off. I was protecting her. I was doing the right thing. “I would not.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Can I ask why? Do you still not trust me?”

  I loved the way her eyes flashed with anger. God, I loved it even when her anger was directed at me. Damn it, I was gone, wasn’t I? If I would accept a slap from that perfect hand, smile afterward, and beg for more?

  “Because telling you too much puts you in danger, so no I won’t tell you if something’s wrong because I want you to trust me to protect you the only way I’m capable of protecting you. Everything I do is for you, that’s all you need to know.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she looked away. “You put it back on.”

  “What?”

  “Not your gloves, and I can’t explain it, but it’s like when you were with me, you’re with me, mind, body, soul, and then afterward you just slipped into something not you. Something indifferent. I don’t like it.”

  I hung my head. “Come here.”

  She didn’t move.

  I set her wine on the nightstand, moved her plate, and pulled her into my arms. “What if I told you we have twenty-four hours? Would you panic or use them?”

  “Both.”

  I felt my body seize with the truth as I slowly glanced over at the clock by my bedside. I did the mental calculations. I hated math. I hated this war. I hated everything but her. “We have eighteen. Eighteen hours and this ends, not because I want it to, but because it’s the only way to keep you safe. Forgive me, please, for wanting you too much. Forgive me for wanting it to be you, my one and only lover. Mine.”

  She turned in my arms and pressed her face against my neck. “Why?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sighed as the truth fell from my lips. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lie to her face. She had taken that from me too. I was glad. I didn’t want to be known as a liar like my dad. I was glad she had taken away at least one mask. “I’ll be sending you away.”

  She reared back and slapped me across the face. Deserved. Very much deserved. I flinched, but I knew she needed to get it out, so I faced her again and waited for another slap.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  I gripped her hands between mine and rubbed my thumb across her skin. “I will not apologize for keeping you safe.”

  “You can keep me safe!”

  I felt my face fall, my facade crack. “Dorogaya, not from this, not from this.” Tears stung my eyes. They made me hate my own bloodline, both of them, they made me hate despite the love staring back at me. But I couldn’t start another war. This one… I knew I would not win. Five families against a broken Russian one.

  They would have to choose.

  And it would not be me.

  “Why?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. I caught them, damning myself to Hell that I was the reason for them when I swore I would never let that happen.

  “I can’t tell you that either. Just know it’s for the best. I’m not doing this lightly, Alice. I’m doing it because I see no other option, because my hand has been dealt, because I love you too much to not let you go.”

  It slipped.

  The I love you.

  I didn’t think she would notice it.

  Instead, she launched herself against me sobbing. “I love you too much to let you go.”

  “And I love you too much to see you killed.”

  “You promised!” She beat against my chest. “You promised you would kill me if it ever got to that point! You PROMISED!”

  I froze and then I pulled away and tilted her chin toward me. “What did you just say?”

  “You.” Her lower lip trembled. “Promised.”

  An idea formed as I took her mouth with mine. “I’ll never let you go.” I pressed her palm to my chest, to the scarred A while I pressed my free hand to hers. “Never. Never.”

  “Never,” she repeated as she shoved me down against the mattress and straddled me.

  I gripped her thighs; she’d be bruised in the morning.

  I’d mark her with pleasure again and again.

  I pulled her closer, and then she moved onto me.

  I thrust up the minute she sank down.

  “More,” I growled.

  She was beautiful the way she rode me, the way her hair hung like a curtain giving us privacy when our bodies moved with each other.

  The most beautiful thing I would ever see was this.

  Us.

  Together.

  I jerked her down as our pleasure built, I sucked her bottom lip, bit down, and moved to a sitting position, wrapping her legs around me as her body convulsed tightly around me, sucking me dry.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I found myself saying and believing. “Trust me.”

  “A monster.” She nodded as she kissed me again. “I always wished they would save me. Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t,” I vowed.

  And for the first time since feeling abandoned by every spiritual being ever worshipped.

  I prayed
.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Alice

  THE COUNTDOWN HAD started.

  We slept another three hours before I woke up with a hot Russian mouth between my thighs.

  I spread my legs, my back arching as I gripped the sheets. “Don’t stop.”

  I could feel his smile against my thighs, my body buzzed with each touch of his tongue. He pulled away too soon.

  And then his hands were on my hips, slowly moving up to my breasts, like he wanted his bare hands to memorize every inch of skin, to ingrain them in his memory.

  I sucked back the knot in my throat as he moved with catlike grace up my body, until he cupped my face with one hand and just stared at me, his eyes piercing, his lips swollen from the last few hours.

  I knew it was almost time.

  I’d been keeping track.

  Or maybe my heart just knew without having to look at the clock.

  We had two more hours before whatever was going to happen… happened.

  He still kept me in the dark.

  Maybe it was better that way.

  Maybe it wasn’t.

  But he asked me to trust him, so I did.

  Blindly.

  “I watched you,” he confessed. “When they brought you in, I watched you, and my response to you hurt, it fucking hurt, like something had zapped my heart forcing me to notice it again. And then I hated you for making me feel anything. Now I can’t imagine being numb again.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, and when he opened them, they were glassy.

  I did that.

  I was making the monster cry.

  My lips trembled.

  He kissed them then, pressing his mouth to mine. “I promise I’ll try. I promise I’ll try, but if I can’t… if I can’t do it, I need you to ask me.”

  “Ask you?”

  “I need you to ask me to kill you.”

  My stomach dropped. “What?”

  “I can’t take the risk that they would torture you, that they would gang up on me, I’m not their blood, so in this scenario I don’t have the pull that Chase does. Just promise me.”

  “Kill me.” I locked eyes with him. “Ubei menya.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “It sounds too beautiful, too wrong coming from your lips.”

  I smiled and made the mistake of glancing at the clock again. Ninety minutes with a man who should have always been mine.

  “No more talking.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him down, only to have him adjust his position and flip me onto my stomach. “What are you—”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Never mind,” I said against the pillow as I felt his heat against my ass, the backs of my thighs. His body was so hard, so hot settled against my skin, like this is how my fairy tale was supposed to end.

  I guess it made sense.

  I’d always dreamed of an escape.

  I just didn’t realize mine would be death by the very monster who saved me.

  “I’ll be okay. No matter what, Andrei. I’ll be okay,” I promised.

  He kissed my back, his hands spread wide across my skin. “I’ll follow you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You won’t.”

  “I will.”

  “Don’t ruin these last moments we have together by saying something like that.” I almost turned back around, but he had me pinned down with his body weight. “Don’t. I can’t bear it.”

  “Tears.” He swiped them with his fingertips as I turned my head to the side. “You shouldn’t shed your tears for a man like me.”

  “Someone should, Andrei. Someone should shed tears for a man like you. You have years’ worth of unshed tears, unfulfilled promises — let me decide who I’ll sacrifice my tears for.”

  He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “I will love you forever.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed as more tears slid onto the pillow.

  And then he was inside me, causing me to come up from the bed in pleasure as he pressed my hands down against the mattress, he was wild in his passion.

  His hands bruising my wrists.

  His body heavy and perfect against mine.

  I would remember this for as long as I still had breath.

  And I would be thankful that I was given at least a few short moments of perfection.

  I could feel the intensity of this moment as it built up between us, as he whispered my name like a vow.

  “Andrei,” I whimpered. “You’re my everything.”

  “Alice…” He let out a growl. “You’re my fucking soul.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Phoenix

  THERE WEREN’T ENOUGH curse words on the planet for what was about to take place.

  It was early, around seven a.m. when I got the call I was expecting.

  I drove, with my hands gripping the steering wheel like a vise, and when I made it to Nixon’s and saw all the nice cars parked — the suits; the what seemed like hundreds of suits…

  I questioned my own judgement.

  I was helping bring down my old family.

  I was helping build a new strong arm of the five families.

  This was what it was about.

  Because at the end of the day it wasn’t just about a love affair for Andrei, it was about keeping my blood safe, my friends, my family, my wife, my child.

  I would not apologize for that.

  For using the knowledge I had to force their hands.

  To force his.

  I slammed the door to my car and casually made my way into Nixon’s. Wine was already on the table despite the early hour.

  Several black suits seemed out of place against the old Mediterranean style furniture. A sea of them, all waiting for me, waiting for the final call. Everyone was tense, rigid in their posture despite the wine that was waiting on the table. I imagined half of the men in there had twitchy fingers ready to reach for their guns, I also imagined that this was the moment that would define the next generation. And if it failed, if he failed, it would be on me.

  The rest of the guys gave me a knowing look, probably because I wasn’t surprised. I had, after all, made the call to the Sinacore Family.

  And there they were.

  The underboss, who had stood in for the last decade, because it was said that he would stand in until the rightful heirs took their place, he refused to step up regardless of the outcry to be named boss. He was surrounded by a few of his made men and captains.

  “Drinking already?” I nodded to the bottle. “Must have been some flight.”

  Louis Sinacore, the underboss, gave me a placating smile. “Where is he?”

  “Probably sleeping like everyone else at this godforsaken hour,” Tex said under his breath.

  Louis said nothing. Tex was still the Capo; even the Sinacores reported to him, and even more so now that they weren’t in Sicily.

  They were in the US.

  They were of equal power to each of the families in the Cosa Nostra. The only difference was the blood that ran through their veins.

  It was ridiculous that people would think they held extra power just because they hailed from the last living royalty in Italy, but people were superstitious. Not just that, they wanted something to believe in.

  Needed it.

  And the Sinacore Family had given it.

  “Phoenix,” Nixon said through clenched teeth, his lip ring glistening in the early morning light. “Care to explain why we have visitors?”

  “Sure,” I said slowly. “I made a call.”

  “Obviously.” This from a tense looking Chase.

  I sighed and crossed my arms. “The De Langes were working with the Russians, with Alexander Petrov, with Ivan, one of his last men. They re-opened their prostitution rings. Three of them. They went back on their word, we’d given permission for Chase to do a cleansing of the lines, but we weren’t going to eliminate all of them, it made no sense at the time, we just wanted them to believe we were going to in order to keep them in line.”
I swallowed. “And now…”

  “Now…” Louis nodded, his expression inscrutable. “You need a replacement.”

  I swallowed the knot of anxiety in my throat. “We’re always stronger as five families. They’ll keep trying to enter into the fold every time, unless we replace them with someone stronger, scarier, more…” I shrugged. “Royal.”

  “So that’s where they come in?” Nixon talked like the Sinacores weren’t even in the room, arrogant bastard. I loved him for it. “Why couldn’t we just call a hit on every last De Lange?”

  “A massacre?” I nodded. “Yeah, we could do that, and then our own people fear us more than they already do, which isn’t necessary. Let the new family come in and create a reputation for themselves, let them create the bloodbath. We call a commission when it’s done, ordain the new arm of the Sinacore Family into the Cosa Nostra, and the problem is officially solved.”

  Dante raised his hand. “Not to put a damper on world domination here, and no disrespect…” The kid just oozed disrespect, but whatever. “But they have no boss.”

  Louis shifted in his seat.

  It was common knowledge that they’d been without a boss for years.

  Because they’d been inactive.

  They’d been laying low in Sicily, they’d been a figurehead.

  “It’s time to wake the beast,” I said with deathly calm.

  Louis’s jaw tightened, the men sitting stood.

  “It’s time,” I said again. “To remind the rest of the world who the Sinacore Family is, and what they will do to those who defy them.”

  I reached for a glass of wine and twisted it in my fingers. “To answer your question, they have a boss, a powerful one that will combine two families who desperately need it.”

  Sergio stilled.

  I could see the shift in Chase’s stance.

  Nixon gave me a curious look.

  “Andrei Petrov,” I whispered, “is their heir.”

  The drop of a single pin would have sounded like an explosion in that room.

  So, I lifted the glass high. “To the new Cosa Nostra, may she be as strong as she once was, to the new arm of the five families, The Sinacore—Petrovs.”

  “Fuck,” Tex muttered under his breath.

  As we toasted to the families.

  I knew.

  We’d just done something we could not undo.

 

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