by LP Lovell
“I have an appointment with Mr. Petrov. Mr. D’Cruze.”
The blonde woman lifts a brow and turns to her computer, tapping a few keys before glancing at me again. “Take elevator one to the penthouse.”
She’s barely finished before I’m already heading for the elevator. The doors are open, and Samuel impatiently waits for me to join him. “Remember, this is just a meeting. Enquiring, if you will,” I say as the doors glide shut.
“I’m aware.”
“Then stop looking as though you’re about to shoot someone.” He glares at me and says nothing.
When the doors open, we’re greeted with yet more, cold marble and steel. Another blonde sits behind another desk, but this one scrambles to her feet when she sees me.
“Mr. D’Cruze.” She flashes a charming smile, smoothing her tight pencil skirt over her thighs. “Follow me, please,” she says with a heavy Russian accent.
She pushes open the door to what looks like a lavish boardroom and waves us inside. At the head of the huge table sits a man, his suit immaculate, one ankle propped on his knee as he reads over a file. He looks every inch the businessman.
“Mr. Petrov, this is Mr. Cruze,” the secretary says, before she scampers from the room, slamming the door behind her with finality.
I look at the man again, really look. He’s young, maybe early thirties, but as his eyes narrow at me, there’s a shrewdness in them.
“Rafael D’Cruze,” he says, placing the papers down on the table in front of him. “Your call was…unexpected.” He drags a hand over his neatly combed dark hair and straightens his already straight tie.
“Not entirely, surely?”
He smirks and gestures for me to take a seat. I sit to his right and Sam shifts, placing his back to the wall behind me. Dimitri pays him no attention. “I had heard that Anna Ivanov was firmly in Nero Vedi’s care.” He taps his bottom lip with his index finger. “His call was expected. As is a possible visit from Una Ivanov.” He grins.
“Vasiliev,” I correct. “Her name is Una Vasiliev.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t come back for the child yet.”
“So you could capture her?”
A wry smile pulls at his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of aggravating the Italian.”
“Wise. I’m hoping you show me some of that deference.”
He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers in front of him. “Well, you’ve requested a meeting, and I’d like to think we could…do business.”
Business? We’re talking about a child, but I know that to him it is nothing more than a commodity, a weapon—a soldier.
“I want the child,” I say.
He smiles. “And what are you offering in return?”
“Cocaine? Guns? Money? Take your pick.”
“Tsk, tsk. I can get such things anywhere, Mr. D’Cruze.”
“If you were not willing to trade anything, then why invite me here?”
“I didn’t say I was not willing to trade anything. You do have one thing I need.”
“Oh?”
His eyes light up with this feral kind of hankering. “Women.”
I narrow my eyes. “Women?”
“Nicholai lacked finesse. You see, he got too attached to his assassins. But, through his madness, he was onto something. To breed a child, to train them from birth with the sole purpose of being a killer…” A wide grin covers his face. “Imagine the soldiers you could produce.” I swallow back bile. “In order to breed children, I need women who can bear them.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t deal in women.”
He tilts his head to the side. “But you have some, don’t you?” I say nothing, trying to keep my expression smooth. “I hear you have…procured the Sinaloa stock.”
My fists clench, and my jaw aches as I grind my teeth together. “I freed them. They’re not for sale.”
That twisted smile remains on his lips. He knows he has me cornered. “Then the child is not for sale.” He pushes to his feet in one smooth motion.
“I’ll give you one million for her. You could buy women.”
He smirks and braces his palms on the table, leaning forward. “Ah, how frivolous your morality is. You won’t give me these women, but would allow me to buy others. Why? So your conscience can remain a little clearer?” He tilts his head in that animalistic way, his eyes narrowing perceptively. “No. It’s her, isn’t it?”
“How many?” I ask.
That smug grin makes me want to kill him. “I see you are coming to your senses.”
“No, I simply need all the facts.”
“Twenty should do it.”
I stand up, fastening the button of my jacket. “I’ll consider your offer and get back to you.”
He laughs. “Tick tock.” Turning away, I walk out of the room to the sound of his laughter. He may be crazier than Nicholai, and that’s saying something.
As soon as we’re in the lift, Samuel speaks. “You aren’t trading them.” I say nothing because I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t make a decision on this. Anna needs to. If I know her like I think I do, then Anna would never trade those women, not even for her own child.
By the time we land back in Juarez, it’s late, and it’s not until the early hours that we pull up in front of the house. Everything is quiet. Only the men on guard remain awake.
As I reach the top of the stairs, I hear the high-pitched scream from the end of the hall. I stride down the corridor to the bedroom door and push it open. Anna writhes on the bed as another scream slips from her lips.
“Avecita.” I move to the bed and stroke her hair away from her sweat-drenched face. She drags in a shuddering breath, her eyes flying open as her fingers grip hold of my shirt. “Shh, it’s okay.”
Her chest rises and falls on panting breaths. “Rafe?”
“Another nightmare?”
She sits up and drags both hands through her hair. “What happened with Dimitri Petrov?”
“Let’s talk about it in the morning.”
She sits up straighter. “Rafael.”
“I need time to think on it before I talk to you, avecita.” I kiss her forehead. “Just have a little patience.”
“We’re talking about my daughter,” she whispers.
“Exactly. We can’t act rashly here.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and I can see the frustration in them, but I also know the heartbreak that Dimitri’s deal will cause her. I want to put that off for as long as possible. At least until the morning.
Standing up, I strip out of my clothes and get into the bed with her. I tug her down against my chest. “Come on. Sleep.”
“Rafael…”
“Just a few hours, little warrior. Just give me a few hours where the world isn’t crashing down around us.”
She exhales a shaky breath and settles down against me. “Okay,” she whispers. And even though I know she wants to argue because she needs to know whether or not I managed to get her child back for her, she falls into silence. She gives me these precious few hours to just hold her.
The minutes tick by, turning to hours, until the darkness starts to turn to gray, and the first rays of dawn break the peacefulness of the night.
“I can’t sleep,” she finally murmurs.
Placing my finger beneath her chin, I tilt her head back until I can place my lips to hers. “Try.”
Her eyes lock with mine before dropping to my lips. “No.” Shifting, she throws a leg over my hips and straddles me. “Distract me.”
I groan. “Avecita.”
“Make me feel something good, Rafe, before you take it all away.” She knows already.
“Okay,” I say quietly, pulling her to me.
Her lips land over mine. She tastes like honey and warm sunshine and everything that I crave so deeply. She’s my addiction, my weakness, the cause of my own personal torture, but I don’t care. I’d give anything for this, to keep her right here.
Her tongue skates over my lip, demanding and begging at the same time. She wants me to take her pain away, and it’s all I want for her. Her fingers slide beneath the waistband of my boxers, freeing me. And then she’s pushing her own underwear to the side and guiding me into her. She feels so good, like coming home after long months away. Her hands clamp around either side of my face, her forehead touching mine as she rolls her hips. The breath that leaves her lips is shaky and ragged—pain and pleasure blending in a perfect symphony.
She makes me lose my mind until nothing outside of her exists. The warmth of her body, the scent of her skin, the warm breaths rushing over my lips. I need it all. I crave more. Sitting up, I grip her hips and force her over me hard and slow, scraping my teeth down the side of her throat. Her head falls back, and waves of golden hair tumble down her back, just kissing the curve of her waist.
There’s something desperate and feral in her movements, as though she’s chasing her own demons while she fucks me. And so I let her. I fist her hair and pin her in place with her back bowed and my cock buried inside her. I let her ride it out like an exorcism until she falls apart in my arms, my name falling from her lips like her own prayer. When she’s done, I release her and pull her tight to my chest. Wetness dots my chest, and I know she’s crying. It makes telling her that much harder. My teeth sink into my lip at the thought of causing this woman who I love any more pain. How much is one person expected to take before they can finally take no more?
“He wants to trade,” I finally say, my chest heaving on deep breaths.
“What does he want?” she asks without lifting her cheek from my chest.
“The women. He wants twenty of them to breed.” I physically feel the heavy thump of her heart and hear the strangled gasp as she drags oxygen into her lungs. Then she simply sits up, climbs off me and goes to the bathroom. The door shuts, the lock sliding closed.
I knew this would break her.
25
Anna
The water from the shower pounds over the tile, but it does nothing to drown out my thoughts.
My daughter is lost to me. Trapped in that place, fated to become a mindless killer with no concept of humanity. She’ll never know kindness or love. She’ll barely be human by the time they’re done with her.
Twenty women. Twenty innocent people who have just been rescued from a horror I know all too well. They’re free, not property to be traded. He knew we would never do it. That’s why he made the offer. An impossible offer. He wasted Rafael’s time by even meeting with him.
God, it hurts. This constant ache sits behind my ribs, as though my heart is physically straining under my grief. I choke, a sob rips from my throat, and for a second I allow myself to just cry. Pulling my knees to my chest, I place my forehead against them. I cry until my eyes sting and my entire body hurts.
There’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door. “Avecita.” I can’t face Rafael right now. I can’t let him see that this is destroying me this much. “Please let me in,” he begs, and that pleading note in his voice has me feeling guilty all over again. I’m riddled with it, so what’s a little more?
Pushing to my feet, I slide the lock back and sit on the edge of the bath. The doorknob turns and then glides open, revealing Rafael standing in the doorway.
“I know it hurts,” he says.
“There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t.”
“His family? His business? There must be something we can threaten…”
He shakes his head, lines of defeat sinking into his face. “I checked every possible avenue before I ever met with him. So did Samuel. So did Nero’s guys.”
They’ve all been in on it. All trying to save my child. And some of the most ruthless, powerful guys in the world can’t come up with anything.
I shake my head. “I wish I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“That she existed.” I drop my gaze to the marble tile beneath my feet. “To know that she exists, but be completely unable to get to her…” I rub my hand over my chest.
Rafael inhales a deep breath. “But you are able to get to her.”
My eyes snap to his. “That’s not an option.”
“Isn’t it?”
“You can’t sacrifice them, Rafe.”
“I won’t be. You will.”
“What?” I cry. “Why would you say that to me?”
He shakes his head, those dark eyes turning cold. “It’s called a sacrifice for a reason. Because it should hurt to make it. You just have to work out your priorities, little warrior. Those girls? Or your child?”
“It’s not a choice!” I shout.
“It is. It’s just a hard one that must be made.”
“There has to be another way,” I whisper. He says nothing. “What if it was Violet?” I demand.
“Violet was family.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying family comes first. Blood comes first.”
“But Violet was a whore, just like those women.” Worse, Rafael’s sister was a willing whore, selling herself for money. These girls have been forced. And the Russians will do more of the same to them.
“Those women aren’t family.” He moves closer and drops to his knees in front of me.
“They deserve a life.”
He offers me a sad smile. “Avecita, you aren’t naïve enough to believe that life is about what you deserve.”
“We’re not God, Rafe. We don’t get to make those choices.”
He inhales a deep breath. “And yet here you are, with the choice.”
“I can’t,” I gasp.
“Then don’t.” He places a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to look at him. “But you will have to live with the consequences of that, Anna.” He pushes to his feet and walks out, leaving me to cry myself dry for the second time this morning. And finally, when I can cry no more, I realize; I have to make this decision. Rafael isn’t going to protect me this time.
There’s only one person I want to speak to right now. One person who I trust to look at this with any kind of objectivity: my sister. Cool, rational decisions are her forte. I dial her number and place the phone to my ear, waiting for it to ring. It doesn’t. Instead, it just cuts to voicemail. I try again. And again. Voicemail, every time.
“Una it’s me. I, uh, I need to speak to you.” I press a hand to my forehead, feeling a pounding headache starting to settle behind my eyes. “Call me, please.”
I sit on the balcony, my mind numb as though it can’t possibly process any more thoughts. I stare aimlessly at the sun, watching it rise high into the sky before starting to fall again. I frown when I hear raised voices from downstairs. Pushing to my feet, I leave the room and follow the sound.
“Stand down!” I hear Samuel growl before I’ve even rounded the corner. When I do, I find Una standing in the entrance hall, two guns pointed at the heads of two of Rafael’s men. There are five in total, including Samuel, and four of them are aiming weapons at her. Her eyes meet mine, and a cocky smile pulls at her lips.
“Hello, sister.”
“Lower your weapons,” I order the men surrounding her. They glance at me but don’t react. “Lower. Your. Weapons,” I growl, and this time they listen. Una’s smirk stretches to a grin.
“Well, well.” She shoves her guns back into the holsters at her thighs. “Authority suits you, Anna.” I turn and lead her away from prying eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She looks at me with sad eyes. “Rafael called last night.”
“Of course he did,” I whisper. He always knows what I need far before I do.
“Tell me what you need, Anna. I can kill Dimitri Petrov, or exert some pressure.”
“No. I just…need advice.” She cocks a brow in surprise, and I lead her through the back of the house, out into the gardens. “I guess you know Rafael met with Dimitri Petrov.”
She presses her lips tightl
y together. “I do. He told me about the deal.”
I stop walking and turn to face her. “He says the choice is mine, but how can that be a choice? I need your rational judgment. You always think with your head.”
She drops her chin to her chest and drags a hand through her white-blonde hair. “Not always.” She looks up, those violet eyes of her meeting mine. “I have one exception.”
“Dante,” I whisper.
“Dante.” She nods, her eyes going distant as a soft smile touches her lips. “I could try to explain it to you, but words would fail. The moment I looked in his eyes, my entire world shifted. He became my reason for everything.”
“I can’t…I don’t know what to do.” My voice wavers, and I fight back the tears I didn’t think I had left.
In a rare show of affection, she cups my cheek, forcing me to look at her. “You haven’t carried her. You haven’t given birth to her. You’ve never even met her. But trust me, when you look into her eyes, you will know. You will love her in ways you never thought possible.” I close my eyes and a teardrop tracks down my cheek. She brushes it away with her thumb. “I know this is hard, but believe me when I say, I would sacrifice a hundred innocent women for my son. A thousand. It’s being a mother.”
More tears pour down my face because I know what I’m going to do, and it feels like I just stepped right into the fires of hell. For her. My child. A stranger. My daughter.
“I need you to do something for me, Una…”
26
Rafael
I find Anna out by the pool. She has a glass of whiskey in her hand and a cigarette between her lips. I linger in the shadows, watching as she exhales a long stream of smoke, and then downs what’s in the glass. Reaching below the sun lounger, she picks up a bottle and pours another.
With a sigh, I approach her. “Why bother with the glass?”