The Ruthless Knight

by Jeana E. Mann

  “I think you’re gonna want to deal with this yourself.”

  “Fine.” After swiping a hand over my face, I stand, pulling my captive to her feet with me. With a hand on her chest, I push her onto the bed, She falls on her back, a tide of crimson coloring her cheeks. The mattress bounces beneath her fall. “Now, you stay put and be a good girl. I’ll be back in a minute.” In a few quick jerks, I remove my tie and stuff it between her lips. A low growl of frustration accompanies her attempts to test the strength of the zip ties around her wrists and ankles. Stubborn girl.

  In the hallway, Vik cocks an eyebrow at my rumpled shirt and the closed bedroom door. “She giving you problems, boss? Want me to take care of her?”

  “No. Of course not.” I pause at the nearest mirror to straighten my shirt and smooth a hand over my hair which is perfect—as always. “What’s the problem?”

  “The cops are on their way up.” The words have barely left his mouth when the doorbell echoes through the penthouse. A frisson of anxiety tightens in my gut. Vik watches me with cool amusement. Bastard. I’ve hated that fucker since the first time we met. He’s only here because Valentina doesn’t trust me. If I step out of line, he’ll be on the phone with her and Milada will be on a plane to Colombia.

  By the time we reach the foyer, two uniformed policemen are standing on the slate floor in front of the double entry doors. The tallest officer steps forward, badge in hand. “Mr. Tarnovsky? I’m Officer Wilkes, and this is my partner Officer Mills.”

  “It’s one o’clock in the morning, gentlemen, and I’m a little busy. What can I do for you?” This isn’t the first time the police have visited my doorstep. Although they hold no power over me, their presence places a definite crimp in my plans for the young woman in the bedroom.

  “I apologize for the late hour, sir.” The officers shift apart, revealing a slender teenaged girl. Raindrops glisten on the rich, brown waves cascading over her shoulders. “This young lady says her parents are out of town and she’s staying with you. Is that true?”

  “Milada?” The girl lifts turbulent gray eyes to meet mine. The same eyes I see in the bathroom mirror each morning. A knife of pain twists in my chest. I clear my throat. “She’s my niece.” The lie hurts every time I say it.

  “Well, sir, your niece and a few of her friends were picked up in a traffic stop a few blocks from here. The driver has been charged with driving under the influence of alcohol and minor consumption. There were two other minors in the car and a case of beer.” The officer glares at me. Milada’s gaze drops to the floor. “She says her father is Roman Menshikov. Is that true?”

  The knife in my gut drives deeper. “Yes. He’s my brother.”

  “Given that Mr. Menshikov is such a high-profile businessman and patron of the police department, we didn’t want to take her to the station out of courtesy to him.”

  “What were you thinking?” I ask.

  An unapologetic glower meets my question. “I’m so sick of school and all their rules.”

  I lift a hand to stop her excuses. “Never mind. We’ll talk about this later.” She’s so like me. The realization takes my breath away. I want to be angry at her, but I can’t.

  “At the very least, she’s guilty of minor possession, resisting arrest, and battery on a police officer.” The officer keeps talking, like I care what he thinks.

  “That’s not true.” Anger vibrates through her voice. “He put his hands on me, Uncle Nicky. What was I supposed to do? Let him touch me? And I didn’t know about the beer. I don’t even know those kids.”

  “Hush.” I shoot her a warning glare. She falls silent. A scowl scrunches her forehead. The point of her chin sharpens. I know that look so well. “Thank you for your discretion in bringing her here, officers. I’ll deal with this.”

  A crash echoes from the back of the apartment followed by the sound of breaking glass. Four heads snap in the direction of the guest bedroom. One of the policemen steps forward like he’s going to investigate. “What’s going on back there? Is there a problem?”

  “It’s probably the dog.” Viktor shrugs. His calm, level head is one of the reasons Valentina values him so much. “Damn mutt gets into everything. Don’t trouble yourself, boss. I’ll go check on him.” After adjusting his belt, he ambles toward the bedroom.

  “Is there anything else, officers?” I motion for Milada to step forward. She halts at my side, eyes downcast once more. I curl an arm around her shoulders and pull her into my side.

  “No, sir.” With reluctance, the officer shifts his attention away from the ruckus and back to Milada. “I believe we’re done here. You have a nice day.”

  “Thank you.” When the door closes behind them, a sigh of relief bursts from my lips. I turn Milada to face me. “What the hell, young lady?”

  “Oh, please.” The shape of her mouth twists into an irritated frown. She breaks out of my hold and strides into the center of the living room on sky-high heels. Her footsteps leave damp smears on my white rug. “Like you care.”

  “I care that your father is going to be livid when he finds out what you’ve done. Don’t take your coat off. I’m taking you home. Right now.” Despite my warning, she shrugs out of her coat to reveal a short, sequined mini dress. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “Versace.” She keeps walking, moving from the living room toward the kitchen. Through the wall of windows behind her, the lights of Manhattan twinkle amid wisps of fog and rain. “Do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.”

  Somehow, while I wasn’t looking, she’s grown from a gawky child into a beautiful girl with breasts. Breasts. I’m so old. The thickness in my throat makes my voice rough. “I’m calling Roman.” A second crash from the bedroom precedes Viktor’s muffled curses. For a second, I’d forgotten about Calliope. I scrub a hand over my face. “Fine. I need to deal with this. There are some premade meals in the fridge. Help yourself. I’ll be back in a second.”

  The words have barely left my mouth when Calliope sprints into the room, eyes wild, zip ties dangling from her wrists. She skids on the slick hardwood, backpedaling to avoid crashing into me. Viktor follows. Blood drips from his nose. It takes both of us to wrestle her to the floor.

  “Get off me. Get off!” Calliope’s irate shouts echo from the cathedral ceiling.

  “Shut. Up.” I sprawl on top of her, pinning her to the floor with the weight of my body. She’s warm and soft beneath me. Her large breasts flatten against my chest. A brief, inappropriate flash of her legs wrapped around my waist causes my cock to stir. “Vik, get the real cuffs.”

  “Let go of me, you bastard.” She thrashes, her knee almost connecting with my groin.

  “What is it with you and my balls?” I shout.

  Growls of fury rumble between us. Her forehead collides into mine, blurring my vision. “Let go or I’ll scream.”

  “You’re already screaming, but go ahead. The walls are soundproofed. No one will hear you.” My vision sharpens. Vik snaps the handcuffs on her wrists. All of us are sweating and breathing hard. I stare into her eyes, expecting to find defeat. Instead, they’re filled with defiance. “Either you cooperate, or I’ll have Vik knock you out. Your choice.”

  “I’ll cooperate.” Her voice sounds small and resigned. The tension drains from her body. I ease away. Vik hauls her to her feet. With the flush of exertion on her cheeks, she’s more lovely than ever. My admiration for her wild spirit grows with each passing moment. She’s trapped in a hopeless situation, yet she continues to fight for her freedom. The cave man inside wants to tame her and make her mine. If only we had more time.

  “What’s going on?” Milada’s gaze bounces from me to Calliope then to Vik. “Who’s he?” In her right hand, she’s holding a chicken drumstick. “Is this some kind of sick roleplay thing?”

  “It’s nothing. Go back to the kitchen.” I take a moment to straighten my suit and run a hand over my tousled hair. “Vik, take our guest back to her room.”

  “I�
�m not a guest, you whacko.” Calliope struggles against Vik’s hold. She turns pleading eyes to Milada. “Help me. Please. I need help.”

  “I want a Porsche.” Milada’s stare breaks from Calliope’s face. A mischievous smirk twists her lips.

  “What?”

  “White with white leather. Like the one you had. A convertible.” One of her eyebrows lifts to taunt me.

  “You’re kidding.” Vik drags Calliope down the hall. I stare at Milada, speechless for the first time in my life.

  “You won’t tell Daddy about tonight, and I won’t tell him about the woman hogtied in your bedroom.”

  “You’re blackmailing me?” How did my life turn into such a shitshow? I pinch the bridge of my nose with thumb and forefinger to stave off a headache.

  She plunks onto the sofa, crossing her long legs at the knee. “Absolutely.”

  Seven

  Calliope

  In the morning, I’m escorted out of the penthouse by Nicky and Vik. Milada trails behind us. We travel down a private elevator to the service entrance at the back of the building. Vik shoves me into an Escalade with tinted windows. I stare at the passing street, watching the pedestrians on the busy Manhattan sidewalks. They’re going to work, running errands, heading to their favorite coffee shops while I’m heading to my execution. It feels surreal, like watching a movie of someone else’s life. However, this is my life—or what’s left of it—and I have no intention of giving it up.

  No one speaks to me except to bark directions. On the way, we drop the girl at a swanky private school. Afterward, we board a plane, have breakfast. Nicky sits a few seats away with his laptop in front of him and his phone to his ear, speaking in Russian. His relentless stare never leaves me. The sun hangs low in the sky by the time we land at a private tropical airport. A blast of heat enters the plane as the door opens. On the tarmac, I sway in the warmth of the sun. A humid breeze ruffles palm trees.

  “Is anyone going to tell me where we are?” I ask no one in particular, not expecting an answer.

  “Does it matter?” Nicky asks. The truth in his question brings the sting of tears to my eyes. I look away. My freedom might be gone, but I still have pride. I cling to it with my entire being.

  “Can you loosen these handcuffs?” Red welts mar the flesh around my wrists. “My fingers are asleep.”

  “No,” Nicky replies. “You lost all your privileges when you broke Vik’s nose.”

  In that moment, the truth hits home. No one cares. To these men, I’m nothing more than a means to an end. Property. Trash to be taken out.

  Viktor approaches with something black in his hands.

  “Sorry,” he grunts and drags a hood over my head.

  In the next vehicle, I’m sandwiched in the back between Viktor and Nicky. I’m acutely aware of Nicky’s presence. His cologne teases my nose, masculine and clean. The long length of his thigh presses against mine. The contact makes my insides squeeze in a combination of revulsion and desire. The car jolts and bounces along a rough road. Every bump, every rut, thrusts my body against his. I’m forced to brace my handcuffed hands on the seat in front of me to keep from toppling into his lap.

  After a lengthy and uncomfortable ride, we come to a stop. Viktor drags the hood from my head. Nicky exits first and tugs me out of the car. The scent of sea spray and flowers hangs in the air. Ahead of me is a massive fortress wall topped by razor wire. Armed sentries flank an enormous gate. Nicky places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face the opposite direction.

  A sweeping path bordered by colorful blooms leads toward a white, modern, two-story mansion. Our feet crunch on the crushed gravel as we pass splashing fountains. Nicky leads the way. Viktor follows on my heels. Inside, the house has gilded ceilings, elaborate furnishings, marble tile, and erotic artwork. Beyond the open wall on the far side of the room, an ocean of azure spreads into infinity. Nicky comes to a halt in the center of the living room. There’s something odd about his hesitance, like he doesn’t want to continue. This small, almost nonexistent gesture scares me more than Viktor. Nicky doesn’t like this place either.

  “Come on.” Viktor prods my back, urging me toward the rear of the house.

  We pass through the open wall to the patio. An infinity pool stretches toward the water, its edges melting into the ocean. A woman rises from beneath the umbrella of her table. The edges of her sarong flap in the wind. Her hair is black, waist-length, and shiny. Enormous sunglasses hide her face.

  “At last, you make it.” Her voice is soft and pleasant, heavily inflected. “Come. Give me a kiss, Nikolay.” The tension in his body is palpable. For a second, I almost feel sorry for him. He stalks forward to brush his lips on her cheek. She cups his ass with her free hand. “Such a good little whore.” A sadistic smile transforms her face from beautiful to hideous. “I see you’ve brought a guest. Please join me.”

  Viktor shoves me forward. We gather around the table. A middle-aged man wearing black shorts and a yellow polo shirt places tropical drinks in front of us. The woman lowers her sunglasses to study me with dark, emotionless eyes. They’re like two holes into hell. “Welcome to my home, Calliope. I was worried you wouldn’t make it. Viktor, remove those handcuffs, please. We are not barbarians.”

  His face wrinkles in a scowl. “I would advise against it. She’s been difficult.” I can’t help smirking at his black eyes and busted lip.

  “Where will she go?” The woman replaces her sunglasses and relaxes into her chair. I feel the weight of her gaze on me. “I have a hundred soldiers watching the perimeter. None of them will think twice about shooting a woman—especially this one.”

  Viktor unlocks the restraints. I rub my wrists, wincing at the pain as the blood rushes back into my fingertips. Once the sensation returns, I study her features. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”

  “Oh, how rude of me! No, we haven’t, but I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like we’re old friends.” She extends a hand covered in gold and diamonds. “I’m Valentina Sokolov. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  My heart plummets to the floor. She’s the wife of a Russian mobster and the leader of a Colombian drug cartel. Death and destruction accompany her name wherever it’s spoken. Nicky was right. No one comes back from this place. “I wish I could say I’m pleased to be here, but…” I let my voice trail away.

  “Has my whore been rude to you?” She cocks an eyebrow at Nicky. He’s been noticeably silent since our arrival. “Do I need to punish you, Nikolay?”

  The muscles in his throat work as he swallows. His features remain stoic, but a tempest brews in his eyes. I’ve never seen so much hatred in anyone’s expression before. “Do whatever you think is necessary.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. Let me introduce you to my new toy.” As if on cue, a slender young man slices into the water and emerges poolside next to her. He drags himself onto the deck in a stunning display of tanned skin and rippling muscles. She trails her fingers down the center of his chest. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Luis. Luis, say hello to my friends.”

  “Hello.” At Luis’s obedient greeting, my gaze flicks to Nicky. He’s out of place in the heat with his dark suit and tie, especially next to Luis’s tiny red banana hammock.

  “Don’t sulk, Nicky. Our time together has been amazing. I’m looking forward to having you join us in my bedroom tonight.” Her red lips contort. “If you can get it up for me.”

  A muscle twitches in his cheek. Primal energy churns in the space around us. His right palm rests on the table, fingers clenching into a tight fist. When he speaks, the low growl of his voice sends a shiver up my spine. “I delivered your package. Now, release me from this insane bargain.”

  “All in good time.” She stands, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head as her chair scrapes over the cement. “Pablo, show our guests to their rooms, please.”

  “I’m not staying.” Nicky rockets to his feet.

  “You’ll leave when I say you can.” The anger in her t
one turns placating, soothing, like she’s bargaining with a child. “Go upstairs and change into something nice for me. Luis and I will wait for you in my room.” The weight of her gaze lands on me. “Calliope, please enjoy the amenities of my home. I would suggest a nice, soothing bath and a good meal after your long journey. I’ll have Pablo bring you something to wear. If you need anything more, you can call him on the house phone.” She places a hand on Luis’s firm ass. “Come along, Nicky.”

  Thump.

  Thump-thump.

  A woman’s moan reverberates through the bedroom wall. The pounding has been going on forever. The rhythm matches the throbbing between my temples. I have no idea what’s going on in that room, but it sounds like Valentina is having a fantastic time. Outside the open sliding doors of my bedroom, the moon hovers above a smooth sea. I cross to the veranda and draw in a deep breath, savoring the feel of air in my lungs, the caress of wind over my face, and the crash of waves on the beach. A rush of gratitude sweeps through me. I’m still alive. Every minute I can still draw breath means I have a chance to escape.

  The door isn’t locked, but there’s nowhere to go. Armed guards patrol the house and the pool area. I sit in the rattan chair for hours, thinking about my sister, wondering if she’s okay, if Cash will go after her next. Speculating is a waste of time. There’s nothing I can do for her now except keep her out of this. Tonight, I just want to sit in peace. Tomorrow, I’ll fight for my life, the same way I always have.

  With a sigh, I settle deeper into the chair and try to enjoy the simple act of being. A knock on the door makes my heart leap. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Nicky walks in. He’s carrying a bottle of rum and two glasses. “May I come in?” he asks.

  “You’re already in.” I return my attention to the ebb and flow of the tide, not bothering to get out of my chair.

  “I thought you might like some company.” In a few long strides, he crosses the room and pulls up a chair next to me. He’s wearing a thin cream linen shirt and matching shorts. The V-neck reveals his collarbone and a smattering of chest hair.