Killer Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  I bite my tongue until I taste blood.

  He chuckles to himself. There’s something far more sinister in his voice tonight. He’s impatient, frustrated with my unwillingness to yield. I fully expect him to start stomping his feet like a damn child.

  “Sofia.” He snatches my chin over the veil and squeezes to make sure I feel it. “I admire your dedication to tradition…” He leans in and I try not to gag on his breath seeping in through the fabric. “I expect the same dedication tomorrow evening. I’ve been looking forward to our wedding night for a very, very long time.”

  I swallow the bile in my throat.

  “I’m sure you have, too…” He releases my face, but he keeps his hand on me, sliding his fingertips down my neck and over my breasts. “A Zappia bride wants nothing more than to please her husband.”

  My hands twitch with the instinct to push him away but I lay my palms against the wall and close my eyes. He reaches behind my body to grope me and I gasp with disgust as his hardness presses against my hip.

  Gio laughs at me. “I love your innocence, Sofia…” He leans closer to whisper in my ear. “I can’t wait to corrupt it.”

  Finally, he lets me go and takes a step back to look me up and down again. I stand still, unable to move an inch. Fear, hatred, repulsion. It all blends together in me to immobilize every muscle and I fight the urge to cry.

  He walks to the door and unlocks it. “Goodnight, Sofia.” His eyes grow about as soft as a stone wall. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll be my wife.”

  I wait until I hear the door latch closed behind him before collapsing to the floor.

  Hot tears spill over, trailing down my face faster than I can wipe them away.

  So, this is it. Starting tomorrow, I will be Gio’s bride. I will be the perfect, doting Zappia wife I was trained to be. I’ll tend to his every need, I’ll bear his children, and I’ll raise a new generation of little Zappia brats until the day I die — and they’d better be sons.

  Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Please, and thank you, sir.

  I never even had a choice.

  I hang my head in my hands and sob, staining the frail, black material sticking to my cheeks. Darkness clouds my vision, hanging over me like a hurricane and I wish for nothing more than to succumb to it.

  I force myself to my feet and walk slowly toward the balcony.

  Life is worth living. As an orphan whose parents were torn from her at a young age, I know this much to be true, but a life in the Zappia way is no life at all. As a child, I couldn’t run. I couldn’t play or sing or dance. Heaven forbid I have a daughter, as she will be expected to live the same life as I have.

  I stare at the concrete patio three stories beneath me and wonder, for a moment, how much this will hurt.

  Movement teases the tree line below and I pause, feeling my breath catch in my throat.

  Luka Lutrova.

  He looks over his shoulder, scanning the garden with nostalgia in his bright eyes. I follow his eye line to see a guard wandering the grounds at the other end of the patio. They each regard the other for no longer than a moment before ignoring each other completely and moving on. The guard takes off around the house but Luka steps into the dark trees and disappears into the garden.

  The gray-eyed Russian boy.

  I smile and wipe the last of my tears away.

  I thought there was only one way out of this life, but I was wrong. I have one job as a Zappia woman and that’s to ensure the continuation of their bloodline, but what if…

  I’ll never get anywhere if I wait for the Zappia family to change themselves. Change begins with a catalyst. One spark will light that fuse and by the time they figure it out, it will be too late to stop the flame from burning them down and destroying all they hold dear.

  And I know just how to light the match.

  I raise myself over the balcony’s edge, my veins fueled by fresh purpose. The lattice connected to the wall beneath it used to support my weight as a child but the fear of falling does little to dissuade me now. I give it a shake to test its durability and it wobbles a bit but stays in place all the way to the ground.

  I slide down, gripping the ledge with tight fingers. My ears train to every sound below me, every snap of a twig or shuffling of feet, anything that will signal the location of a patrol guard or even Luka himself.

  I move at a snail’s pace, pushing the fear even further down with each bit of lattice I descend. It takes forever to reach the earth and when my toes finally hit the hard ground, I smile even wider.

  Chapter 6

  Luka

  I wander the grounds alone. My father told me not to worry about it. The Zappias have security covered for the weekend but it’s a hard habit to break and honestly, I wouldn’t trust a Zappia guard to tie his own damn shoes.

  The back garden is just as I remember it. It seems rules and traditions aren’t the only things the Zappias keep consistent. It’s like a page right out of my memory. Flowers and tall bushes. Even the darkness isn’t enough to overwhelm the radiant pinks and purples spilling off the leaves.

  I sense movement and halt my stride. My hand moves behind me and my fingers graze the heel of the pistol stashed in my belt.

  It’s not a guard. The feet are far too small, far too light. No, this movement is trained and purposeful. Covert and full of grace.

  A woman.

  I twist around to look into the darkness across the lawn and the darkness stares back at me behind a thick, black veil.

  Sofia.

  I release the grip on my gun and open my mouth to speak, but she raises a finger to keep me quiet. She turns and disappears into the trees like a steady, black mist, moving nothing but the grass beneath her toes and making no sound at all.

  I follow her slowly, chasing the very essence of her while keeping my other senses locked for guards. There are two on the front lawn enjoying a shared cigarette and one in the driveway who kicks a stone as he passes by it. Another takes a piss in the trees on the other side of the garden. Each of them keeps a finger hugged around their triggers, taking their jobs as seriously as I take mine.

  Following Sofia Zappia into the darkness is a sure way to get myself killed, and yet… I can’t stop walking.

  She waits until I can see her again before walking into the garden shed, the same one I followed her into twelve years ago.

  Instinct urges me to turn around and go back to the house. I should go to the guest room, lie down, and sleep until morning but I think of that scared girl cowering in a corner beneath the table and I keep moving.

  I close the door behind us. Sofia pulls the string on a hanging bulb in the center of the room. It’s so old and dust-covered it barely illuminates the dark space, but it’s enough for me to make out her shape.

  She reaches up and pulls the black veil off her head, revealing her pale, white face to me.

  My breath catches in my throat. Her lips are bright red, her hair a dark brown. Her skin is perfect, like a brand-new doll. There’s more beauty in one glance of her mature face than all the landscapes of Italy and Russia combined.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” I say.

  Sofia smiles without a single wrinkle on her face. “And you shouldn’t have followed me, Mr. Lutrova.”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her speak. Her voice fights to soothe every bit of resistance in me but I swallow the forbidden notion down where it belongs. “If they catch you—”

  “The last time you spoke to me, I was whipped for it,” she says, keeping her smile even as I cringe. “Believe me, I know the consequences of this better than you do. The guards don’t patrol this far into the garden. We can speak freely here.” She steps closer and the light reflects her brown eyes back at me, bewitching me even more. “I need your help, Mr. Lutrova.”

  “Luka,” I say.

  She pauses. “Luka…”

  Her silence lasts several moments. “What?”

  “That’s…” She exhales. “That’s the
first time I’ve ever addressed a man by his given name. I’m sorry, I…”

  “Sofia…” I stare at her, noticing every little flinch in her face as I speak her name. “They don’t even let you say a man’s name?”

  “It’s a sign of disrespect,” she says, her eyes grazing the floor. “Only equals may be so informal.”

  “Not even Gio’s?”

  “Especially not Gio’s.” To my surprise, she chuckles. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…”

  “Stop apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong to me.” Sofia looks up and nods. “You said you needed my help.”

  She licks her red lips, giving them the slightest sheen in the dim light. “You come from a very different world,” she says. “I can see it in your eyes. You find this family repulsive, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  She sighs with relief. “So do I.”

  And there she is. That little girl with adventure in her eyes. “You want to escape,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “That’s not possible. We’d never make it off the grounds — unless you feel like you can dispose of nearly fifty armed men on your own tonight. No, the only real escape would be a quiet, self-inflicted death in the middle of the night, but…” Her eyes harden with purpose. “I have a better idea.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I despise the Zappia family,” she says. “Them and everything they stand for. I will not dedicate my life to it. I refuse to. Gio…” She pauses on the name. “Gio desires an heir to continue his family’s legacy and he’ll take it from me. I want to deny him that but even more… I want to humiliate him.”

  I study her eyes, so full of hatred and loathing but they glimmer with silent hope. “How?”

  Sofia hesitates. “I will have a child, but it won’t be his. A little dirt in the blood will be enough to sully the family’s reputation for generations and tear Gio to shreds.”

  “And where do you plan on finding this dirt?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

  She falls silent and her cheeks glow with the slightest pink. “From you, Luka Lutrova.”

  I take a step back. “Sofia…”

  “I won’t ask you for anything else ever again,” she says, her voice full of desperation. “You have my word on that.”

  “Why don’t you just leave?” I ask.

  “You think I haven’t tried? Every exit is protected. The wall is too high to climb. I haven’t seen the ocean since I was five years old.”

  I pause, trying to imagine a life like that, but I honestly can’t.

  “Even if I did make it out,” she continues, “there’s Rosalie. She was just a baby when they brought us here. This family is all she knows in the world. She’d never leave and I couldn’t live with myself if I abandoned her here. As a madam of the Zappia household, I can move her into the main house and she’ll no longer be a servant here. It’s not much, but it’s certainly a better life and if I… if I took my life, then she’d surely take my place next to Gio, and I’d rather she be dead than suffer that.”

  “Sofia, what you want from me… it’s considered treason — to both our families.”

  “No one will ever know the child is yours. Only me and you. Not even the child, if that’s what you want.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  She inhales a shaking breath. “Then, I’d beg you to forget this conversation ever happened and you go on with your business.”

  My chest tightens. “Then, what happens to you?”

  She looks down. “I will not live my life in chains. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. I’m not sure what, but…”

  “This won’t change anything, Sofia,” I whisper. “Even if I help you, you’ll still marry him tomorrow.”

  “I’m a very patient woman,” she says. “I will give him my body if it means that my soul laughs every time he looks into our child’s eyes and sees nothing of himself staring back. That betrayal will see me through until the end.”

  I breathe a soft laugh. “Sofia, you are sinister.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t mean it as a compliment,” I say. “This humiliation is harsh and cruel.”

  “As it should be.”

  “I’d love to watch the Zappias fall as much as anybody, but there are other ways.”

  “As a Zappia woman, my womb is the only power I possess.” Her lip trembles but she stills it with a quick breath. “I have no say. I have no rights. I have no choice but to comply with the will of Zappia men. Tell me, Luka… do the Russians treat their women this way?”

  “No.”

  “Then, please, give me one night of reprieve. I promise our secret will die with me.”

  I press my teeth together, feeling everything tug in different directions inside. Sofia is beautiful — even more so than I thought she’d be — and I’m a warm-blooded man. Of course, I want her. Of course, there’s nothing I’d like more than to take her for myself, but…

  “Why me?” I ask. “You don’t even know me, Sofia.”

  She turns and her gaze falls to the table in the corner. The tablecloth is old and ragged but it’s still there, hanging down full of rips and holes.

  “You extended your hand to me once,” she says. “There was more kindness in that act than any other in my entire life.”

  Years of blood and scars pass through my mind and I shake my head. “I’m not who you think I am,” I say. “I am not a good man, Sofia.”

  “Whether you help me from kindness or from your own desires, the end is the same. I ask you for nothing more than that and your silence, I promise,” she says. “Please, don’t condemn me, Luka.”

  Her chest heaves, completely wiped out of argument. I shamefully look down to watch it rise and fall and I can’t help but picture her without that damn black dress. Porcelain white skin, untouched in every way considering the Zappias rules for their brides, but she wants me to touch her first.

  And I’m not sure I can say no.

  Hell, I know I can’t say no.

  To bed Gio’s virgin bride before he can? That thought alone makes me hard already.

  “If he ever finds out, it will start a war,” I say. “You know that, right?”

  She smiles. “I’m counting on it.”

  The spark in her ignites one in me and I can’t hold my desire for her at bay much longer. “Where? When?”

  “Here and now,” she says with a quick wave of her gloved hand. “It’s the safest place.”

  I shake my head at the old shed. “This isn’t what you deserve.”

  “I’m used to it.” She doesn’t even blink and I know it’s true.

  Sofia. Who knew that cute little girl would grow up into this? Strong and determined. Patient and brave. Years of cruel tutelage couldn’t break her. The Zappias made her this way. It’s hard not to appreciate the irony.

  “All right,” I say, swallowing hard. “I’ll do it.”

  “No one will ever know,” she says again. Finally, her voice trembles. “And… I know how it works. You can be quick.”

  Fear passes over her eyes for the first time and guilt stabs at me but not as much as anger does. For her first time to be like this, with a practical stranger in a dirty shed rather than with a man she loves in a warm embrace. It’s as harsh and cruel as the vengeance she seeks — but still a better fate than she’d suffer beneath Gio’s writhing body.

  Sofia should never have had to make this decision at all. Fate stripped her family from her and dropped her on the Zappia doorstep. To any outsider looking in, they’d think that was a dream come true. A fresh, new beginning for the two orphan girls.

  Now, she has to rely on a damn coin toss to stay alive. There’s no guarantee any of this will go the way she wants it to.

  But it’s enough to keep her alive and I won’t deny her that hope.

  My pulse races, firing blood so fast through me that my fingers turn numb. I slide my jacket off and she blinks with subtle fear as I gesture at
the table.

  “Sit down, Sofia.”

  Chapter 7

  Sofia

  I do as Luka says and walk over to the table.

  It hasn’t been twenty minutes since this idea sprouted fully formed in my head. I never once made it this far into the plan. I know what I ask of him, I know what’s expected of me, but I hadn’t prepared for the terror pumping through my veins right now.

  Luka hangs his jacket off a nail on the door and steps over to me as I lift myself onto the table. I keep my eyes down, trying not to make it too obvious how terrified I am.

  My god, what am I doing?

  What do I do?

  “Sofia, look at me.”

  I force my gaze up and feel a quick jolt of warmth as Luka shows the faintest smile.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he says, flashing my memory back in time.

  Twelve years ago, he looked at me just like he is now. He has the same gray eyes, soft and caring without a hint of malice in them. His hands, once small and untainted, now tell a different story. The story of a hard and calloused mafia man.

  I’m not who you think I am.

  I am not a good man, Sofia.

  My breath rattles in my lungs. Luka leans in and I feel his body heat in the air around me. It warms me to the core and my body responds in ways I’ve never known it could, throbbing and aching all over while I grip the table beneath me.

  Luka lays his hands on my waist and my skin twitches beneath his touch, even through my thick, black dress. He looks at me with sharp, seductive eyes and I can’t help but get lost in them.

  As he drifts closer and licks his lips, my heart stops. I turn away from him, my cheeks flushed with blood. “We don’t have to…”

  His fingers graze my chin, guiding me back to him. “I want to,” he whispers.

  Luka gently pushes in until our lips finally touch. Lightning fires down my spine but I sit here, frozen in the flames, as he kisses me softly. He takes it slowly, never once heaving an impatient breath while I adapt to the new sensation.