“Pfft, the lost cause. I still don’t understand why you’ve let that boy live under our roof,” my father gripes.
“Because he is part of my family. He is the brother of your grandson and you will respect his place in our home.” I declare, not wanting to hear him complain about Aleksei’s presence again.
“You have a soft heart, syn. If you don’t show our people you have a heart of stone, I’m afraid they’ll soon destroy you.” My father has instilled fear into every person who breathes in our country. They follow his commands because they’re terrified of the outcome if they don’t. When I take over the Bratva I won’t rule in the same way. I’ll bring back hope to the people of Russia.
“I’m a Volkolv. They’d be wrong to even attempt such a thing,” I seethe, glaring at the old bastard. Instead of shooting back a reply or slapping me across the face he smiles, obviously approving of my attitude.
“Now that my syn is how you should be acting. A true Volkolv you just were,” he states, swelling with pride.
Redirecting my attention back over to Sofia I take in the soft features of her face. From her small, doting nose to her full lips. “What you did was completely unnecessary.”
“Drugging her, or the examination?” he asks.
“Both,” I hiss, standing up to challenge him. “She would’ve come with us regardless if her father had ordered it. Surely you understand that. Fuck, things haven’t changed much with the cartel and I doubt they ever will. Daughters will always look to their fathers for direction. And the examination . . .” I go quiet for a few moments, breathing in through my nose and out of my mouth in an attempt to calm myself down. “Regardless of whether or not she was a virgin, I’d still be marrying her. You know it as well as I do.”
My father smirks, nodding once. “Da, you’re correct. However, you should be thanking me for what I did. Instead of you being the one she hates, it’ll be me. It’ll cause her to warm up to you quickly. It also showed her the Volkolvs are not a family where she can twist things to get her way.”
Is he joking right now? He did this all to teach her a lesson? God, how I wish I could kill him on the spot. Unfortunately, I can’t do that. Not unless I want the Bratva to go over to my uncle. If that were to happen, everything would be far worse. Unlike the other mafias, the Bratva runs a bit differently. When the crime boss steps down it is in front of his commanders, as well as having the new boss in his presence, they have an official ceremony. If I kill my father, the Bratva automatically averts to my Uncle Oleg.
“How long will it take for her to wake up?” I ask, wanting an answer to ensure she’ll be okay. I hope Sofia will be alright, but honestly I’m fearful the man she won’t trust is me. It is my family who did this to her after all. What reason is there for her to trust me?
My father cocks his head to the side and gets a good look at her. “I might’ve put a little extra in the syringe than what was needed. We might be back in Moscow and in our home before she wakes. Fuck, you could probably screw her before she even wakes up.”
God, he’s a sick bastard. That isn’t called screwing. It’s called rape and I refuse to be one of the men I hate the most. Then again, I’m staring at a man who rapes the women our family traffics just for shits and giggles. What outrages me even more is how my mother doesn’t say anything to him. She simply allows him to do whatever he pleases. However, that is what a good Russian bride should do. Open her mouth, pussy and ass for her husband to give him lots of children, stay silent and be beautiful.
I take in a deep breath and get comfortable in my seat. While we may have six or so hours left on this flight I won’t be moving at all. There’s no way in hell I trust him around Sofia. The moment I walk away he’ll probably try to treat her just like a slave girl.
Chapter Five
Your future needs you. Your past doesn’t
~ M.R.
Sofia
I wake to the sounds of birds chirping. Upon opening my eyes I see I’m somewhere foreign to me. I’m in the same dress I was wearing back in the restaurant, but yet I’m tucked under a heavy white comforter with gold stitching around the edges. Looking around the room I see how simple and bland the interior is. The wall is a mulled down mixture of gold and green, reminding me of a dark sandy color. The headboard for the bed is the same gold on the stitching, while the nightstand and dressers match the overall look of the space with gold accents.
Light shines in from the oval-shaped windows which must be seven or eight feet long. Throwing the comforter over my legs, I slide them around the edge of the bed and hop off, walking toward the window. I’m shocked by what is before my very eyes. No longer am I in the warmth of Mexico. Instead, I’m in snow central.
Confusion runs rapidly through my mind, trying to figure this out. The last thing I remember was being examined by some type of doctor to verify I was still a virgin and Valentin sticking up for me, trying to get me out of there. He had taken my hand in his when I felt a prick in my arm. Then everything got fuzzy and went black.
My word. One of them drugged me, obviously causing me to pass out.
I slide my fingertips through my hair baffled this actually happened. This is the type of thing I see in the movies, but never did I expect it to happen to me. Shaking my head, I know this couldn’t have happened unless my dear papá gave the approval. I was with him and the Volkolvs, so if I had to put my finger on it, I’d say I’m in Moscow.
Rolling my eyes, I grunt out in frustration as I walk around the room. There’s a tall wardrobe directly across from the bed and two doors to the right. One is on the alternate side of the bed, propped open with a tile floor. I head toward it and see a full-size bathroom.
A creaking sound warns me someone has come inside through the other doorway, so I turn and come face-to-face with Valentin. His ice-blue eyes burn right through me while he dips a hand in the pocket of his trousers and leans to the side like a typical billionaire playboy. “I was wondering when you’d be awake. You had me worried,” he says in a husky tone, his accent overbearing and powerful.
“I doubt you’ve been worried when you’re the one who jabbed me in the arm.” I discredit what he’s just stated, knowing this is probably a big charade to get me to fall for him.
Valentin cocks a brow and purses his lips together looking furious. “I did not drug you, Sofia. You can thank my father for that. He seemed to think it would be easier getting you here. Not that he discussed his plan with me or anything.” The old man was right. I would’ve been kicking and screaming the entire way.
“Don’t play the part of the innocent prodigal son. I know this story too well,” I tell Valentin, keeping my eyes focused on his. I want to see if he’s lying. My papá always taught me even the greatest of men have a tell. Now all I have to do is figure out what Valentin’s is.
Valentin takes a step toward me, smirking like a cocky bastard and extends his hand. He runs his fingers over the side of my face, dipping down to my chin and forces me to look up at him. Surprisingly, his moves aren’t rough whatsoever. He moves slowly, in a sensual manner. “What you’ll come to realize Sofia Margarita Ramirez, is that I am nothing like my father.”
“You sound like everyone I’ve ever spoken to in our world.” While I’ve never left the comforts of Mexico, I have been surrounded by a few prominent families before. My father almost had a marriage prepared between the heir to the Romanian Clans and me, however, something happened and he decided he wasn’t interested. He played the same card Valentin is, stating he isn’t anything like his father. I think it’s all a load of crap.
Valentin cackles lowly, grazing his fingertips a bit lower. He moves at the pace of a turtle, sliding his fingertips down my throat. “In time you’ll come to discover the type of man I am. If I was my father I would’ve violated you there in front of everyone, not giving a care in the world on what foot we start our relationship out on. I, however, do not believe in raping my bride to be. When we do unite in a sexual way it will be on our o
wn terms, not being forced like my father’s puppet.”
I blink a few times processing what he just said. “Everything I’ve ever heard about you hasn’t been good.” There’s no point in hiding what I know. Maybe he can clarify a few things for me. But Alejandro’s voice keeps replaying in my mind. He warned me about this family for a reason. He wouldn’t have led me astray when it came to something like this.
Valentin brings his face closer to mine, so close his hot and heavy breath hits my lips. “What have you heard, Sofia?” he growls as his eyes dart down to my lips.
I think about retorting in some smartass way but Alejandro told me that wouldn’t fly here. I decide to heed my brother's warning and control my tongue. Not everyone is man enough to handle a Latina’s spirit. “Your entire family is dangerous. Rumor has it you’re the Ice King.”
Valentin wiggles his eyebrows, “Ice King, what an honor. Sadly, I’m not as stone-cold as the street believes I am. Don’t blow up my spot though, alright? Now I’m sure you’re hungry. You wanna go get some food? There’s a café a block away that has the best food.”
I think about it for a moment, but what other choice do I have? “Sure, I’m starving.”
Chapter Six
We fall. We break. We fail. But then, We rise. We heal. We overcome
~ Unknown
Valentin
I give Sofia a once over, “Surely you won’t be wearing that sundress. It’s only twenty degrees outside.”
The little spitfire rolls her eyes at me, “Of course I am. I don’t have anything else to wear considering I didn’t have any time to pack.” Sofia is adorable when she wants to be, but what’s even cuter is the fact she thinks there isn’t a thing for her to wear.
“Sofia, take a look in your wardrobe,” I direct her, motioning with my eyes for her to go inside. She steps around me, walks up to the closet and turns back in my direction. I take it upon myself to lean against the wall and kick up my left leg in a comfortable manner.
“I didn’t think you would’ve prepared for my arrival. Thank you for making sure I had some suitable clothes here.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want you freezing. This time of year anyone can catch a chill and get sick. Plus, what kind of fiancé would I be without ensuring you felt like you were at home.”
Sofia gives me a soft smile, “I’m afraid that will never happen. Not unless all the snow melts and somehow it gets to be around eighty degrees. Oh, and we’re on the beach.”
I laugh at her remark, “Well, it won’t ever be like Mexico here. However, I promise to take you on a holiday where it’s even better than your country.”
“You weren’t lying, were you?” she questions.
“Sorry. I don’t follow.”
“About not being as bad as they say. You seem to be kind, and if you’re faking it you do an excellent job.”
“I am a Volkolv. I can fake what I need to,” I joke, but catch the way her face falls into worry. “I’ll reiterate that I’m not being misleading when it comes to you, Sofia. My last . . . relationship was one where there was a lot of lying going on. Obviously not on my end. I want to make sure we’re not like that. More importantly, I want you to like me.”
Her expression still looks worrisome. “I’d like to ask you about your wife, if you’re open to it. I’ve heard rumors but I’m not sure if there’s any truth to them.”
I nod, “Sure, but let’s change things up from the café to the bar across the street. We need some vodka if we’re going to dive into that.”
Sofia gives me a half-smile, “Sure. I’ll just change really quick.”
“Please, go right ahead,” I say, standing firm in my position against the wall.
“Um, aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” she asks, raising her brows. Obviously this makes her uncomfortable, but in a super sexy way.
I shake my head from side to side, “No, I’m not. You’re my fiancée and in my opinion, I have every right to see that body of yours, the same way you have every right to see mine.” Fuck, I forgot she’s a virgin. No wonder she seems so shy.
“Uh . . .” Sofia goes quiet, turns her face into the direction of the wardrobe and picks up two hangers. She’s grabbed a pair of fitted pants with an eggplant purple sweater. While it would fit normal on a Russian woman, I bet it’ll stop at her knees since she’s shorter.
I chuckle lightly, “I’m just toying with you, Sofia. My humor might be brash, but you’ll get used to it in time,” I add a wink on at the end and walk toward the bedroom door. “Come outside when you’re ready and we’ll head out.”
“Okay,” she replies and I open the door, head out of the room and shut the door behind me.
Within a matter of five minutes Sofia is walking toward me, looking like a beautiful caramel candy. “I’m ready,” she says, and I lead her down the hallway, cut across the living room and walk down another corridor until we reach the entry into our penthouse. Before we leave I grab my coat and slide it over my shoulders.
As we get into the elevator that will take us down to the lobby Sofia keeps picking up her feet, slamming her boots down onto the floor. “Everything okay?” I inquire.
She scrunches up her nose, “No, I hate these. They’re so big and bulky.” Her accent comes out a bit thicker than usual and causes me to chuckle. For the first time since meeting her I get an anger-fueled glare and instead of pissing me off, it excites me.
“You’ll get used to them in time. They protect your feet from the snow and keep your toes nice and toasty.”
A few moments of silence pass us by when the elevator doors open up to the lobby. We both walk out into the vast space and I wrap my arm around her waist as we move forward, planting it on her hip. Everyone in our building will know Sofia is my woman, and no one will insult me by staring too long at what belongs to me.
Just as we come to the front doors of our building, I realize Sofia didn’t grab one of the coats from her wardrobe so I start to take off my coat and catch her furrowing brows trained on me. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m making sure you’re warm. I’m used to our frigid winters; however, you aren’t.” Sofia flashes a quick, bright smile before she changes her expression to something that can’t be so easily read.
I hold the coat out for her and wait as she slides her arms through the sleeves, then return my arm around her waist to hold her hip as we walk outside onto the street. “Dios Mio. I’m glad you put this coat on me. Gracias.”
While we may have started off in Mexico in a gruesome way I’m hopeful Sofia can clearly see I’m not the same as my father. I want her to know me as Valentin, not as a Volkolv. It takes us a couple of minutes to get across the street because the traffic is so busy this time of day. Most of the corporate offices have just left, so everyone is meeting up for drinks or on their way home to their families.
The hostess must see me heading toward the door and rushes out to open it for me. Everyone in this city knows who I am. More importantly, they know to show me every ounce of respect I deserve.
“Mr. Volkolv, would you like your usual table?” the tall, stick-thin blonde woman asks. I’ve seen her a few times here but have never cared to learn her name.
I give her a curt nod and she leads us to the back of the restaurant where they have a booth reserved for my family to give us a more intimate experience. There’s only one way in and out of this joint, which is the door that leads into it.
I allow Sofia to slide in first and go in after her, careful to make sure the gun I have holstered under my suit jacket is secure. Thank fuck for shoulder holsters. Whether I’m walking across the street or am in the privacy of my own home I can guarantee I’m packing some heat.
The two of us have some small conversation while the waitress brings our wine out to the table. I ordered a red, seeing as Sofia was drinking red wine yesterday. Alcohol is bound to loosen us both up a bit. Since Anastasia I haven’t exactly been the most trusting of people.
&nb
sp; Sofia picks up her glass of wine and swirls it around, inhaling the scent before she takes a sip. “What did you just do there?” I ask her.
“I savored the wine with every sense I could. Don’t you prefer to enjoy life in any way you can?”
“Interesting. I’ve never done that. I’ll have to try,” I reply.
“Yes, you will. Now, didn’t you say we were having vodka?” The waitress walks by just as Sofia speaks and I raise up my hand, signaling for them to bring us a bottle of their very best.
“You mentioned my wife. May I ask what you know?” I inquire, needing to see her expression as we venture into this subject.
“I only know that she died, and rumor has it you were responsible,” Sofia says with her eyes on mine. The waitress brings us a bottle of vodka and starts to place two shot glasses on the table. However, I wave her off.
“We have no need for those. Thank you, though. Now, will you give us some privacy while we chat?”
“Da, of course Mr. Volkolv.” The waitress disappears and I grab the bottle of vodka, taking a heavy chug and allow the liquor to burn down my throat until it settles in my stomach before I hand it to Sofia.
“I was responsible for my wife’s death. Although, to be fair things weren’t simple when it came to our situation. She was trying to get me thrown into jail. Anastasia was working with the government, supplying evidence to ruin the Volkolv family.”
Sofia’s eyes widen. Surely, she understands the severity of how Anastasia destroyed everything we had together with her brash actions. “I’m so sorry. But, I had heard your son was with her when she was executed.”
Deceptive Love: A Dark Mafia Duet (Mackenzie & Volkolv Book 1) Page 3