Mafia Sins: The Mafia Romance Collection

by Bella King

  Suddenly, things started to click in my head. “The S that I keep seeing, that’s from my last name?”

  Rurik nods. “Sommer. It’s the symbol of our mafia sect, along with the image of a snake. That dates back before you, or even I was born. It’s an ancient symbol.”

  “What if I don’t want to be involved in all of this?” I ask, taking another sip of my wine, the pungent fumes entering my nostrils and lulling me into a softer mental state.

  Rurik leans forward with his eyebrows furrowed deep on his handsome face. He’s so close that I can smell the wine on his breath as he speaks. “Once you join the mafia, the only way you leave is through the arms of death.”

  Chapter Eight

  My life has been a lie.

  I pace around my room, hours after Rurik explained to me why I’m here. I’m supposed to go to sleep, but how the hell can I sleep when my entire life has been ripped apart and scrambled like an egg right before my eyes.

  One day. That’s all it takes to make me question reality. I don’t know what to believe now, but it sounded like Rurik was telling me the truth. Everything he said just fit, and he knew things that only someone very close to my father would know.

  My name is Violet Sommer.

  “Violet Sommer,” I say, tasting the words in my mouth as they roll off my tongue. My name sounds awkward. I’m not used to saying it, but it is a nice name, certainly better than Samantha Brown. Rurik was right about that.

  “Violet, like the color,” I say to myself. “Like the flower.”

  Rurik has me locked in my room for the night. He said that if I try to escape through the window that I’ll be shot, and honestly, I believe him. The guards that I saw during my trip here were no joke. Those men were definitely trained to kill.

  What am I supposed to do all night when I can’t sleep? I don’t think pacing around my room is going to do me much good, but I can’t seem to keep still. I always pace when I’m thinking. If I try to sit down, I’ll twitch like a meth addict.

  Rurik didn’t explain to me who “they” were, but he seemed to think that they were going to kill me if they got the chance to. They were enemies of my father, and they had caused him to die. His death wasn’t an accident.

  That alone is enough to turn my world upside down. I had nothing but respect for my father, but now that I’ve learned about his dealings, I’m having somewhat of a moral crisis. Can I ever look at him the same way anymore? The image I once held of him has been shattered.

  I clutch my auburn hair in my hands, nearly ripping it out from my scalp as I hurry back and forth across the large bedroom. I’m thankful I have so much room to pace, but at the same time, I feel like I’m going to lose my marbles if I keep this up for much longer.

  Maybe I should try to go to bed. Rurik told me that he would wake me up at six in the morning for breakfast. I don’t like getting less than eight hours of sleep at night. Call me unreasonable, but I can’t function throughout the day unless I sleep enough. I’ll be a total bitch to Rurik tomorrow if I don’t go to sleep now.

  I remove my white dress, wishing that I had another glass of wine to aid with my struggle to fall asleep. The wine that I had with Rurik had been very good, and I look forward to having it again if I’m allowed to. I don’t know yet what Rurik has planned for me. The only thing that I know is that I’ll be here in California for a while. I’m unsure if he even knows what he’s going to do with me.

  I’m not afraid of the dark, but I still dash to my bed once I flick the light off. This event has put me on edge like nothing else ever has.

  I keep my panties on as I slip into the white cotton sheets that occupy my new king-sized bed. I’m still afraid that there may be cameras in my room, even though I haven’t seen any signs that there are. I can be paranoid at times, but apparently, that’s considered a good thing in the mafia. Rurik even encouraged me to sleep with one eye open, in case anything went down.

  Well, that’s not very reassuring.

  I lay on my back, spreading out my arms and legs like a starfish under the cool sheets. The bed is one of the more comfortable ones that I’ve slept in, but it doesn’t make it any easy for me to fall asleep. The energy and excitement from the day are still buzzing in my body, like the hum of a generator during a power outage.

  I close my eyes but open them quickly when the image of Rurik flashes across the backs of my eyelids. His face is striking and difficult to remove from my head. Why is it always the worst guys who are the most attractive?

  I groan and stare at the ceiling, my arms above the blanket, resting at my sides. I zone out while making patterns from the texture of the ceiling paint. It glows a dim white in the moonlight from the window.

  I don’t even realize that I’m falling asleep as I lay there, but within thirty minutes, I’m out. My worries will have to wait until the next day.

  Chapter Nine

  A knock on my door wakes me up, but I don’t want to get out of bed. I’m too comfortable, and despite having been worried sick yesterday, I slept like the dead.

  “I’m awake,” I croak, hoping that nobody will come into the room. I’m not dressed for guests.

  To my dismay, the door clicks unlocked from a key on the outside and swings open. Rurik steps in, looking just as dashing as ever. His broad chest graced by double lapels this morning. Does that man wear anything but suits?

  “Rise and shine,” he says, revealing a cup of coffee in his hand.

  “Breakfast in bed?” I ask, clutching the blanket to my bare breasts as I sit up.

  “If you consider coffee to be breakfast,” he says, walking softly toward me with the cup steady in his large grip.

  “Sometimes I do,” I reply, taking the coffee from his hand with one hand, still using the other to cover myself with the blanket.

  Rurik stands beside my bed. “I’ll show you the property today, but you can’t leave the yard unless I’m with you.”

  “How long will I be here?” I ask, taking a sip of the steaming black coffee.

  “A long time,” he states solemnly.

  I wrinkle my nose as I swallow the strong coffee. The flavor is enough to wake me up within the first sip. “How long is a long time?”

  “Ten years, perhaps,” he says with a shrug.

  “What?” My coffee sloshes out onto the crisp white sheets as I jerk forward in alarm. “Ten years?!”

  “It’s for you own good,” he replies, glancing down at the stain in the bed and reaching into his suit pocket. He pulls out a small phone and flips it open.

  I’m speechless. How can he keep me here for that long? Is he aware that I have a life outside of this place? I have friends, goals, dreams, and hobbies. I can’t be trapped in a house until I’m thirty-two.

  Rurik says something in Russian into his phone and snaps it shut, looking up to me again. “You don’t have to worry about the sheets. They’ll be washed.”

  “I’m not worried about the damn sheets,” I say, flinging them off my body and springing out of bed, forgetting that I’m not wearing anything but a pair of panties. “I don’t want to be trapped in this fucking house for the rest of my life.”

  “Are you only planning on living for ten more years?” He asks, his eyes flickering down to my breasts.

  “I’ll be lucky if I make it five years with you around,” I say, slamming my cup of coffee onto the bedside table and storming toward the dresser to cover myself up.

  “I’m not so bad,” he says, turning to watch me. “I think we’re going to have a lot of nice times together.”

  “Doubtful,” I say dryly, rummaging through the clothes in the drawer and yanking out a pair of jeans.

  I feel Rurik behind me, and then I feel his warm hand on my bare waist. I spin around with the jeans clutched in my hands, eyes wide and alert from his touch. “What are you doing?” I ask as he stares down at me with his light-blue eyes.

  “I’m admiring you, Violet. You’re a beautiful woman,” he says, his voice deep and
velvety. It’s the same as it was last night when he had poured me a second glass of wine.

  I’m beginning to think he’s up to something more than just keeping me safe. “You can admire me from a distance,” I say, firmly placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back.

  Rurik doesn’t move at first, but after a moment, he steps back, allowing me to have space again. He folds his muscular arms over his chest and watches me as I scramble to get dressed.

  I slide into the tight pair of jeans provided, and I toss on a shirt without a bra. I’m certain that Rurik just didn’t buy any bras because I can’t find any in the room. He’s playing a different game than I initially thought, but I think we both know that’s obvious now.

  “I’m going to need another cup of coffee,” I say, pursing my lips at Rurik. “The one you gave me tastes bad.”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “Anything for your highness.”

  I scoff at him and walk out of the room, not quite sure where I’m going. I’m sure he’ll make sure I do what he wants me to do today. Rurik is overly involved in my schedule, even though he insists that this house is mine.

  I can feel Rurik behind me as I walk down the stairs to the kitchen. He’ll never let me out of his sight, except when I’m sleeping or in the bathroom. Even then, how can I be sure that he isn’t watching me? He’s obsessed with me, and his handsomeness isn’t enough to make me okay with that.

  “The coffee is on the counter,” Rurik says from behind me as we enter the kitchen.

  I don’t need him to tell me that. Does he think that I’m blind? I shake my head and walk toward the pot, grabbing a mug that’s hanging from a hook in the wall beside it and placing it down on the counter with more force than is necessary.

  “Don’t break the coffee cups, please,” Rurik says calmly, grabbing one as he comes up beside me.

  “This is my house, isn’t it?” I ask, snatching the pot of coffee from the machine and raising it over my mug.

  “Are you annoyed at me or something?” he asks, leaning close.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because I’m protecting you. I thought I already explained this to you last night,” he says.

  “The only thing you explained is that some mysterious people want to kill me for no reason, so I should live with you for ten years and have you harass me at every chance you get. How am I supposed to know that you’re not just trying to force me into some fucked up relationship?” I blurt as I pour my coffee.

  “Careful,” Rurik says, reaching toward the coffee pot as my cup threatens to overflow.

  “Don’t avoid the topic,” I snap, putting the coffee pot down and sliding my cup toward the end of the counter where the fridge is.

  “I’m not. I just don’t want you to keep making messes everywhere,” Rurik says.

  “Then explain to me how I’m supposed to trust you,” I say, refusing to look his way as I speak. I stand with my fists clenched next to the fridge, awaiting his response.

  “I have already given you what information I can. It’s dangerous for you to know too much,” he says.

  “Why?” I ask, opening the fridge and scanning the shelves for creamer.

  “Because I said so, Violet. You forget who is in charge here,” he says, his voice growing impatient.

  I twirl around with a container of half-and-half clenched so tightly in my fist that the sides are caving in. “Keep your distance from me, Rurik. We’re not friends.”

  “I never asked you to be my friend,” he says.

  “Nor are we lovers. I don’t know you,” I say, charging toward my cup of coffee whilst twisting off the cap to the half-and-half.

  “I’m not trying to be your lover, Violet. Don’t be silly,” he replies, taking a sip of his black coffee.

  I’m rightfully pissed off at him, but I know that I should calm down before I get myself into trouble. He has already shown me that bullying me isn’t outside of the realm of possibilities to keep me in line. If I push him again, he might do something worse than sticking a bag over my head for three hours.

  I shoot him a look of disdain but stop myself from speaking by taking a sip of my coffee. I can’t argue about the truth with him because he will insist that his version is true with unwavering confidence. Some may find that type of confidence alluring, but I prefer to think of it as arrogant.

  Rurik looks at the gold watch on his wrist and frowns. “I have a meeting in an hour. I’ll show you around the house once I get back.”

  “You’re leaving me alone here?” I ask, surprised. I thought that he would never let me out of his sight.

  “You won’t be alone,” Rurik replies. “I have a hundred guards surrounding the house. Remember what I told you about going outside.”

  “Yeah, I prefer cereal for breakfast over bullets,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee.

  Rurik chuckles. “Good girl. I’ll be back in around two hours. Make yourself comfortable. There is plenty of food, but unfortunately no internet. I can’t have you sending any messages out.”

  “Of course. I’m your captive,” I say, my voice twisted in cheerful sarcasm.

  Rurik sighs and shakes his head, taking his coffee with him as he leaves the kitchen and heads toward the door. I stay standing in the same spot by the counter until I hear him leave the house, after which I spring to action. There must be something in this house I can use to call for help.

  Chapter Ten

  The TV only plays movies, and not from anywhere outside of the house. There is a stack of DVDs along a bookshelf beside it. I’ll never run out of movies and TV shows to watch with how many I have at my disposal, but I’m not interested in entertainment. I’m looking for a way out of here.

  I have already checked all the cabinets in the kitchen, the living room, and the bedroom for a radio, but the house seems to be void of electronics, other than the TV. There is no phone, but I expected that. It would be too easy for me to call the police.

  Rurik must be crazy to think that I would ever believe his story. Last night, I had almost been convinced that what he was saying is true, but the more I think about it, the more I’m certain that I would be safer in the hands of the police. Why would Rurik need to kidnap me?

  There’s a lot he isn’t telling me, but I’m not going to wait for the smoke to clear to figure this all out. I’m going to escape, even if I must take some risks to do it. It might even take months to get out of here, but I’m going to. There’s no way I’ll let myself be locked away from the world during the best years of my life.

  I’m not going to be able to brute force my way out of the house unless Rurik is bluffing about having a hundred armed guards waiting to blow my head off. It seems like a drastic response, but Rurik is a drastic kind of guy.

  I continue my search through the house for an electronic device that I can repurpose into an outbound radio. I don’t even know how to do it, but I’m sure I can figure it out somehow. I mean, with how many books and movies there are around the house, I’m almost guaranteed to get some ideas on how to escape.

  After an hour of opening and closing drawers, climbing up to peer atop dressers, and examining the inner workings of my washer and dryer, I’m still empty-handed. Should I have expected anything less? Rurik probably had this house built to contain prisoners. Even though it looks like a beautiful rural home, it is, in fact, a glorified prison cell.

  I sigh, wiping the dust off my hands that came from the back of the washing machine onto my jeans and sulking back to the living room. Maybe a movie would be a good idea at this point. Rurik will be home within an hour, and I don’t want him to think I was doing anything suspicious.

  As I’m heading to the couch, the handle on the backdoor rattles. I stop in my tracks, looking back down the hallway toward the door, waiting for Rurik to come through. The doorknob stops rattling.

  Is someone trying to get in? Rurik isn’t going to be back for probably another hour, so I don’t think it’s him. Is it one of the guards,
or has someone actually come to kill me? Oh my god, what if this is a trap set up by Rurik?

  I want to run back to my room when the knob rattles again, but my curiosity is greater than my fear. I step toward the door, trying to steal a glimpse through the tight blinds that cover the door window.

  There is a shadow behind them, blocking out some of the light from the morning sun. They look to be hunched over, but it’s hard to tell. I don’t know why they’re messing with the door, but I’m about to find out.

  “Hello?” I call out, coming to a stop a few feet from the door.

  The knob stops wiggling, and there is a pause before a soft knock indicates that someone wants to be let in. They must have heard me, but they didn’t call out in response. This is very strange.

  I creep toward the door, stepping so lightly that even I can’t hear my own footsteps. Whoever is behind the door already knows that I’m here, but I still feel the need to move silently. I make it to the door as another knock hits the door, this time, harder.

  I rotate the lock on the door slowly and pull open the door. It makes a cracking noise against the frame as it opens, sealed tight against the elements outside. “Hello?” I ask, peeking through the slit in the door.

  Outside, there is a guard, much like all the rest, standing in front of the door. I wouldn’t be able to recognize him from the rest of the men since they all seem to look almost identical. He’s bald, muscular, and has distinctly European facial features.

  “I must speak with you,” he says.

  I open the door more. “Do you want to come inside?” I ask. I have no idea how to react to this man. So far, Rurik has been the only person to talk to me. The guards all ignore me, as though I don’t even exist.

  “No, I dare not set foot inside the house,” he says, glancing around nervously. “But I want you to know that you’re not alone. There are things that you are being told that are lies. Some of it’s the truth,” he says with a pause, “But a lot of it is lies.”