Disgraced (Amado Brothers)

by Natasha Knight

  “Walk.” The man who stood guard commanded me. I startled and glanced up at him. He didn’t meet my gaze, though. Instead, he kept his just beyond mine, only nudging me forward when my legs wouldn’t move.

  The murmurs of anticipation ceased as I set one platform shoe into the spotlight, then the other. I stopped. My guard leaned down close.

  “Walk.”

  When I met his gaze, they conveyed a silent warning. And so I walked. Specks of silver dropped from my shoulders as I entered the room where Alexi waited for me at the center of the stage, where a sea of masked faces gave audible sounds of approval as I came fully into view.

  My humiliation, it excited them.

  “Ah…my pièce de résistance.”

  Every single person in the place brought their hands together in fervent applause, the sound deafening as it bounced off the marble floors. I looked at them, and terror gripped me at what I knew Alexi had in store. I would have screamed if I could. I would have run. But there was no way out, not for me, not this time. This time, I was finished. And all I could do was stand trembling and mute as I faced my fate.

  I didn’t hear what he said. I couldn’t listen as bile rose up my throat and threatened to choke me when Alexi named an amount, and the first hand rose high, followed quickly by a second and a third and a fourth. It kept going, Alexi calling out numbers, bidders bidding. I struggled to wrap my brain around the fact that I would soon be raped.

  The room began to spin, all the arms rising as each man or woman outbid the last blurring before my eyes, Alexi’s voice lost amid the shouts from the guests. A final number was called out, and when it was, time seemed to stop. Everyone turned to the man standing. The one who’d just placed the final bid. I glanced at Alexi, who studied the masked stranger, his expression one of pure hatred. I didn’t understand. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Wasn’t this how he wanted to punish me? Forcing this violence upon me?

  “Sold.”

  I stumbled when he said the word, losing sight of the room as I almost passed out. Alexi caught me as the lights went down on the stage. He faced me, and once I was steady on my feet, he wrapped his hand around the back of the bridle to grip the lock and force my head backward.

  The guests began to rise from their seats as the stage lights went down.

  “I like you like this, Kat. Maybe I should have had you wear it when you played at the club.”

  I didn’t miss that he spoke in the past tense. When I made a sound and tried to break away, he tugged harder. It was a moment before he released me. Two women appeared to lead me away, a guard following close behind. Their hands were gentler than Alexi’s as they walked me into a round room bare of furnishings, draped heavily with rich crimson curtains, large tiles covering the floor in a black-and-white pattern. A man stood guard as the women snipped the straps of the dress. I watched it pool around my ankles before stepping out of the remains. One of the women took it away, and the other led me to the very center of the room, where they wrapped a leather cuff around one ankle and bound me to a ring in the floor. One of the women sprinkled a handful of rice at my feet. I found it strange, not comprehending at first.

  “Kneel,” she said.

  Then I understood.

  The women each held one of my arms to steady me as I knelt on the hard grains. They dug into my skin, and I knew they’d be agony soon.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the guard who dismissed the women. He waited beside the door until, a moment later, it opened. Alexi entered, the grin on his face more terrifying than any mask he could have worn. He circled me once, stopping just in front of me, the bulge in his pants inches from my face.

  “Good news. Your knight in shining armor has paid your debt. Or should I say priest in shining…cassock?”

  I glared at him.

  He laughed at his ridiculous joke and rubbed his length through his pants. Just as he reached for the zipper, the door opened and a masked man entered.

  18

  Damon

  Blood pumped so hard in my ears, I couldn’t even hear myself think.

  My fisted hands shook as I looked at her there, kneeling on the floor, arms bound at both elbows and wrists behind her, attached at her ankle to a ring on the floor, naked, the Scold’s Bridle muting her.

  She trembled as tears slid down her face, and I wondered how many of those others, how many of those fucking bastards who’d bid on her, would find her tears arousing. Find their pleasure in her pain.

  “Ah,” Alexi said, turning to me. “Here he is, our happy buyer.”

  I looked at Lina’s terrified eyes, turned back to Alexi, and peeled the mask off my head. I could tell he wasn’t surprised at seeing me.

  “Bought and paid for,” Alexi asked. “Just like the whore she is.”

  I glanced again at Lina but I couldn’t look for long. Not if I wanted to save her. “Bought and paid for,” I said through gritted teeth, barely recognizing my own voice. Rage burned the blood coursing through my veins, and I knew if I didn’t get us out of there fast, I’d kill him. I’d fucking kill him.

  “Keys,” I said, holding out my hand.

  He reached into his pocket to retrieve a set. “Shall I take off the bridle? You’ll want to use her mouth, I presume?”

  “Bought and paid for, Alexi. She’s mine. Give me the fucking keys and get the hell out.”

  “Touchy,” Alexi said, feigning offense.

  His eyes gleamed, though, and I knew he was enjoying this.

  “I suppose for the amount she cost, you can have the bridle. Maybe you’ll want to keep her in it. Becoming, isn’t it?” he asked, shifting his gaze to her.

  I stepped to him before the guard could get near me, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and shoved him backward against the wall. Two hands landed on my shoulders, but I was in Alexi’s face and I wasn’t finished. Not nearly.

  “Her debt is paid. She’s finished with you and your father. Is that clear?”

  I heard the door open and more soldiers come inside. Hands gripped my arms.

  “Is that fucking clear?” I asked as they dragged me backward.

  Alexi snorted and adjusted his collar. He approached, and when he was an inch from me, he drew his fist back and punched me hard in the gut.

  “You don’t give the orders here, Father.”

  He hit me again, but I didn’t care, not as long as he wasn’t touching Lina. But he returned his attention to her too soon, bending down so he was at eye level with her.

  “I don’t know if you heard, but there was a terrible accident at the prison,” he said in a loud whisper, feigning upset.

  Lina’s puffy, reddened eyes widened as Alexi pulled her hair hard, tugging her face upward.

  “A riot, they said. Luckily, only one prisoner was killed.”

  Lina tried to say something but it only came out as sound.

  I tried to break free, but Alexi stood and turned to me. “Work him over.”

  He gave me a wicked grin before tossing the keys onto the floor before Lina’s knees. “While she watches. And when you’re done with him, take what you want from the whore.”

  He walked to the door. Someone opened it for him, but before he left, he turned back to face us one more time.

  “Make sure he watches that part. They’re free to go after that. If they can walk, that is.”

  Alexi walked out the door, leaving three guards behind. I looked at Lina’s desperate face, watched her struggle helplessly with her restraints. I didn’t think at that point. I didn’t hear anything either, at least I didn’t hear anything apart from rage.

  It does have a sound, rage. It’s like an all-consuming, wordless, formless sound, something like chaos. Like a fucking battlefield. I wonder if that’s the sound of blood boiling. Whatever it was, it filled my ears. The room around me receded, leaving only Lina there, Lina kneeling, chained, and at their mercy. Lina on her knees beneath their hands.

  I let that thought fuel me, those images burn into my retinas, and
somehow, some way, with a wild roar, I fisted my hands and heaved my arms forward, dragging the men who held me from behind me, gaining power as I listened to her muffled cries, to their angry voices, and flung them into each other, skull crashing against skull, until they released me, dazed and confused. While they stumbled, the third man’s fist collided with my jaw. Pain momentarily flashed like lightning before my eyes, but I didn’t have time for pain. I didn’t have time for anything. Because this was it. This was it for her.

  I’d fought before, not much, but enough, and I beat three of Alexi’s men before me, one after another after another as they landed hit after hit on me, my face, my gut, my kidneys. I struck back every single time until finally, somehow, I gained the upper hand. After the first guy fell away, I loomed over the other two, backing them against the wall. I dragged down the drapes hanging there, tore the material to reveal the brick wall beyond. Taking them both by the hair, I smashed their faces against it, hearing bone break, feeling blood splatter onto my face, my clothes. I don’t know how many times I did it. I only know at some point, even after they went limp, I continued, unable to stop. Not until hands closed over my arms and dragged me backward, forcing me to release them. I kicked at one lifeless body before I stumbled back over another, slowly coming back to reality, someone shouting orders, the sounds of screams from beyond, the feel of cool metal circling my wrists.

  I turned to Lina as men in black, FBI across their protective gear, stormed the room, disappearing behind a curtain where a door had been. One man bent over Lina, and again, I tried to tug myself free of those who held me now. They wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t let them hurt her. I wouldn’t let them fucking hurt her.

  “Lina!”

  The man straightened, pulling the Scold’s Bridle from her, freeing her. I followed her gaze to his and redoubled my efforts to free myself, failing again as he stood at his full height.

  “Maxx?” Lina managed.

  It was Alexi’s man, the one who’d been at my apartment.

  “Get these things off me!” I ordered, twisting against the two who held me, handcuffed, dragging me farther and farther from her. “Lina!”

  Maxx moved behind her, and I would have lost it then. Hell, I had already lost it, hadn’t I? Didn’t at least one man lie motionless on the floor just feet from me? He was dead. I knew dead, and he was it.

  “Don’t fucking touch her!”

  But he didn’t, not like that. He undid her bonds and helped her to stand. Granules of rice sprinkled onto the floor, but too many were still etched into the flesh of her knees. He then picked up the cape—mine, it must have fallen off during the fighting—and wrapped it over her shoulders and let her come to me.

  “Damon,” she wept, burrowing herself into me, holding me tight, tighter than she’d ever held me before. I couldn’t move my own arms to wrap her in them, to drag her away from this bloody scene, from the screams and shots coming from the outer room.

  “Take them to the hospital,” Maxx said. “Don’t let her out of your sight.” He gave the room one more glance, me one more look, and disappeared into the outer room.

  19

  Lina

  I’m responsible.

  I sat alone in an office much like those I’d seen on Law and Order and those sort of shows on TV, not sure how long I’d been here. I wore no watch, and there wasn’t a clock in the room. They’d brought me here once I’d gotten the all clear at the hospital. I wasn’t hurt. No one had laid a finger on me.

  Damon, though? I couldn’t get the image of him fighting out of my mind. I couldn’t stop seeing fists pounding flesh, heads colliding with a brick wall. Blood splattering. Staining Damon. And the man on the floor. The one who would have beaten Damon. Who would have raped me. Who had lain, unmoving, on the floor of the penthouse.

  No. More likely he now lay in a drawer in the morgue.

  Shit.

  I’d fallen asleep once. Or more times. I didn’t know. I just knew that I’d startle awake, my head on the table, eyes feeling like they were plastered shut. There weren’t even windows in the room, so I could see the sun. Or the night sky. Or anything.

  Standing, I went to the door for the thousandth time, but for the thousandth time, it was locked. They hadn’t let me in to see Damon at the hospital. When we’d arrived, they’d taken us to separate rooms, and we’d both had a police escort. Several.

  They’d handcuffed Damon. Did that mean he was in trouble? He’d defended himself. He’d defended me.

  I pulled at my hair, wearing another circle in the ragged wall-to-wall carpet, until, finally, a lock turned in the door and it opened. I stood and watched as Maxx and another man walked in holding a file that had to be at least two inches thick.

  They closed the door behind them, and Maxx faced me, looked me over. I was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, a matching sweatshirt, and a pair of ancient sneakers, all of which were too big. I’d folded the pants up several times to keep them up, but it was either that or be naked, since I didn’t have any clothes on when I’d arrived at the hospital.

  “Ms. Guardia,” he said, setting the file folder down and taking a seat. He sounded so different, looked so different. He was still wearing black form the raid, his muscles bulging beneath his shirt. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his face was serious and engaged. When I’d known him as Alexi’s bodyguard, he was always distant, as if he didn’t see or hear a thing. I’d always known the opposite was true, but this was…weird.

  “It’s Lina,” I said, taking back my old name.

  He sat back in his chair, surveying me, not betraying a single thought.

  “I don’t understand,” I started. “You work for Alexi.”

  He shook his head. “I’m a federal agent. Maxx Carson. I work undercover, and in this case, I needed to get close to Alexi Markov.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re not hurt. Physically, I mean.”

  “But Damon’s hurt. No one will tell me what’s going on.”

  “Damon Amado will be fine. He had a couple of bruised ribs and a fractured wrist. Not surprising, and quite lucky, considering.”

  I exhaled, a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. But then I realized something.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  He studied me. Christ, it was unnerving.

  “You know that Sergei Markov was injured in a riot at the prison yesterday?”

  “Injured? Alexi said he’d died. Or he’d suggested it.” Although he’d never named Sergei.

  “He’s recovering. His injuries are serious, but he’ll pull through.”

  He watched me. Was it wrong that I felt relieved he hadn’t died?

  “Maxx, am I in trouble?” I asked again.

  “We have questions. For now, that’s all.”

  I nodded. Did they know about the journal I’d kept rather than turning it in? Was that what he had questions about?

  “What was your relationship with Sergei Markov?” he asked.

  “He was my employer at Club Carmen until he was arrested and Alexi took over.”

  Maxx raised an eyebrow. “That was all? He gave you an apartment to live in free of charge, bought you clothes—”

  “How does this matter?” How does my stupidity matter?

  He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. “It matters. Especially given the fact you visited him a few days ago in prison. Especially given the fact that three of the people named in the file he gave you turned up dead in the last year, and another has gone missing.”

  “Dead?”

  “Dead.”

  “You were in that file too.”

  He gave me a half grin. Before I could say more, I heard commotion outside, and the door opened.

  “I’m sorry, Maxx,” a woman said.

  An older man in a three-piece suit walked inside and set his briefcase on the table between the agents and myself. He took out a card and handed it to Maxx, who took it. He then handed me one.

  “Reginald T. Lewis.
My client is no longer answering questions.”

  “Client?” I asked.

  Mr. Lewis pulled a chair over and sat down beside me. “Your brother-in-law, Raphael Amado, arranged for representation.”

  “Raphael?” Shit. He knew? That had to mean Sofia knew too. I shook my head. “Representation? Am I under arrest?”

  Maxx leaned forward to answer before Mr. Lewis could speak. “No. You’re not. We’re looking to answer some questions, Ms. Guardia. That’s all. I’ve been involved in this investigation for longer than you’ve known Alexi Markov, and unless you’re going to tell me something I don’t already know, you have no reason to have an attorney present.”

  “I’ll ask you not to intimidate my client,” Mr. Lewis said.

  Maxx gave him a look but sat back in his seat.

  “I’m okay to answer questions,” I said to all of them. “I want to.” But first I had one for Mr. Lewis. “Raphael hired you?”

  “Yes. A colleague is a mutual friend.”

  “Is he…coming here?”

  “No. You sister is unable to travel, and he won’t leave her at this stage of the pregnancy.”

  “She’s okay, though?” How long had it been since I’d talked to Sofia?

  “As far as I know, she’s fine.”

  Maxx cleared his throat. We both returned our attention to him.

  “You visited Sergei Markov in prison a few days ago.”

  “Yes. I went to him because I was afraid of what Alexi would do, how far he’d push me. He thought I owed him money. But you know that part. You were there.” He’d stood by when Alexi had slapped me. He’d caught me and stood me back up to take more. “You let him hit me.”

  He had no reply, but the look in his eyes told me he hadn’t forgotten.

  “Sergei told me he’d help me. He said he’d wipe out my debt and get Alexi off my back if I told him if those people in that file were at Alexi’s party. But they’re dead or missing, so I don’t understand.”