Counts of Eight (The Four Families Book 1)

by Brynn Ford

  My eyebrows slant inward as I narrow my eyes. My gut reaction is to tell him to fuck off, but there’s some small part of me that hears him, a small part that feels understood in my torment over her.

  That same part thinks she deserves to be one of his broken dolls.

  I turn my head to glare at him. “I’m not selling you Anya.” Though, for the first time, I’m not entirely sure I mean it.

  I wonder if she’s the reason why my relief for this moment was stolen away so swiftly. Because she torments me daily, giving her attention to Ezra, but even worse, receiving his attention in return.

  I fucking hate them both for that.

  The vengeance in my heart is returning anew. I don’t feel satisfied that I’ve caused enough hurt to those who’ve hurt me.

  For the first time, I sincerely wonder if offloading Anya to a crueler master would satisfy my obsession with hurting her and finally give my mind the reprieve it deserves.

  I give Vigo another glance, a nod, then lift the back of my jacket and tuck the gun into my belt.

  Chapter 26

  Anya

  My eyes blink open from what was perhaps the most serene sleep I’ve experienced in years. I’m curled around Ezra’s back where he sleeps on his side next to me.

  I don’t know what time it is, but I normally wake up several times during the night.

  Never content.

  Never feeling fully safe.

  I suffer nightmares that wake me often.

  But as I awaken now from a peacefully dreamless sleep, I feel refreshed in a way I’ve never felt before.

  It’s because of Ezra.

  I nuzzle my nose across his spine and breathe in. I inhale the heady scent of him and kiss the center of his back tenderly.

  I’m certain it must still be the middle of the night and that we probably have a few more hours of peace before I need to wake Ezra and make him leave. I don’t know how Nikolai would react if he knew Ezra had been here and shared my bed. I’m risking a lot as it is not to wake him now and send him away to his room.

  I roll onto my back with a yawn, my eyes drifting shut again, and I stretch my arms above my head. My bare breasts lift out from beneath the sheet and the cool air in the room brushes over my nipples, making me shiver. It’s such a stark contrast to the heat of pressing them against Ezra’s warm body.

  I smile to myself, recalling the way he touched me last night, the way he sucked and licked and teased and made my entire body explode from pure nirvanic, wanted pleasure. He helped me find heaven in his arms, even if it was only for a few hours.

  But then I realize those hours are done.

  There’s a prickle of awareness creeping over my skin.

  Untangled from Ezra’s overwhelming, calming aura, my heart claws its way up my throat with the swift drop-off of my sudden descent back into hell.

  I can sense him in the room.

  I hold my breath and open my eyes slowly.

  Daylight peeks in from behind the closed curtains.

  It’s morning.

  We slept all night.

  And Nikolai stands beside the bed.

  I swallow hard.

  Inhale, exhale, inhale.

  I sit up slowly, trying my best to limit my movements on the mattress. I don’t want to wake Ezra. If I can just get Nikolai out of the room, let him punish me for this in whatever way he chooses, maybe I can spare Ezra the pain of having to witness it.

  My pulse is pounding and I will my heart to stop beating, just until I can leave. I’m afraid Ezra knows my heart too well, that he’ll feel my fear in his sleep and wake from dreamland into a nightmare.

  I stand slowly. Nikolai doesn’t step back, so my bare chest bumps his as I get to my feet.

  “You’ve become an ungrateful bitch, rabynya,” he spits the words at me, his nostrils flaring.

  I whisper, “Just punish me and get it over with.”

  He reaches around and grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking back hard. I nearly yelp, though I try to remain quiet, as he forces my head to angle far to the side. My hands reach for his in a vain attempt to pull him off, but he holds me in place.

  “Please…” I beg. “Please, please don’t wake him.”

  I’m done for, but part of me hopes that Ezra might be spared the pain of witnessing my torment.

  “Don’t wake him?” he repeats with a growl. “Don’t wake him?!”

  “Shh, please, please…”

  But it’s too late.

  Ezra startles. It takes a moment, but he realizes what’s happening quickly enough, though Nikolai is already dragging me across the room by my hair. Ezra leaps after us, both of us clad in only our underwear.

  As Nikolai pauses to pull the door open so he can drag me out into the hallway, Ezra runs for him.

  “No!” I shout at Ezra because there’s no point in fighting.

  Ezra never touches Nikolai, never even comes close. He stops dead in his tracks, then holds his hands up in surrender before taking a slow step backward.

  I glance over to see that Nikolai holds a gun in his free hand. He holds a gun and he’s pulling me out to punish me. An arctic wind whips around me, a frozen brush across my skin, and my spine tingles with a rush of fear.

  I scream, “No! Nikolai, please.”

  “I told you that you were on thin ice. I fucking warned you.” He’s come completely unhinged with the rapid way he speaks, a piece of his disheveled, ashen hair falling across his eye. “I knew you would do this, I knew you would. You never gave me a chance, Anya, from the moment I brought you home.”

  Brought me home?

  “Home? You’re pathetic, Nikolai. This was never my home.”

  “It was always your home. Since you were eleven years old this was your fucking home. You were lucky to have me as your benefactor. I paid for your talent! I own it, it belongs to me!”

  “And I’ve paid my debt for it with blood, sweat, and tears.”

  “You’ve paid nothing. Nothing. Not so much as your gratitude. And perhaps that’s why you are so ungrateful. You owe me.”

  “She owes you shit,” Ezra interjects bravely.

  Nikolai cocks the gun that’s still aimed at Ezra. The sound is enough to shake my tears loose, rattling my bones into jumping at the simple yet foreboding click.

  “No, no, Nikolai, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. Don’t hurt him, please, don’t hurt him.”

  He tilts his head looking down at me and I dare to stare back. Something flashes across the gray, something desperate, something primal, something I might almost mistake as heartache if I didn’t know better.

  “What is it?” he snarls. “Did you fall in love with this one? You let him fuck you and now you’re in love?” He laughs and it’s one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever heard.

  He swings the gun around and presses it to my temple. I whimper and flinch. Ezra is saying something frantically, but I can’t make out the words.

  My brain roars. It’s been lit on fire by fear and it screams to escape the cage of my skull. I can’t think of anything other than dousing these flames, dampening the terror.

  Nikolai still holds me firmly in his grip with his fist around my hair. I sob, the cold metal reminding me of death and how close it is to becoming my reality. For the first time in so, so long, I don’t secretly wish for death to take me.

  I don’t want to die.

  I want to be with Ezra, wherever he is.

  Nikolai releases my hair and I immediately step back. He moves toward me, aiming the gun at the center of my forehead with his outstretched arm.

  “Walk,” he says to me, holding the door open.

  The fire in my head roars again, telling me to do what he says, to obey the man with the tool that could end
me in less than a second.

  I don’t glance at Ezra.

  I can’t.

  My eyes refuse to look away from the gun.

  I don’t dare turn my back to Nikolai, so I back myself out of the room, taking slow, careful steps. I creep backward down the hallway until Nikolai gets fed up with my pace.

  “Turn the fuck around and walk, Anya,” he shouts.

  I jump, my bare breasts jostling, reminding me of how exposed I am. It takes all my thought and all my strength to force my body to turn, to take my eyes off the instrument of death that’s threatening my very existence.

  I move slowly toward the grand staircase, topless, with nothing but my panties on to cover me, knowing full well the four families are still here to watch my punishment, or perhaps even my death, in full glory.

  I cross my arms over my chest, then drop them to my sides, deciding that I’d rather keep my dignity with my head held high rather than try in vain to cover myself in shame.

  The only shame I feel is thinking that hope and I could reconcile our differences.

  “Down,” Nikolai tells me when I reach the top of the grand staircase.

  I descend slowly. I felt nearly on top of the world walking down this very staircase last night in my pink gown, walking hand in hand with the boy I fell in love with. Now I descend with an ache in my chest and fear pulsing through my veins.

  I’m not walking down to an empty entryway as would normally be the case. The four families mill about, crossing the space, talking to one another, some of them have their slaves with them.

  Everyone turns to look as I make my way down the stairs and step down onto the marble floor.

  “Kneel,” Nikolai says, and the gun is against the side of my head again.

  I flinch then quickly lower to my knees on the floor.

  He’s going to kill me here.

  Everything stops.

  The four families still and quieten.

  I can feel every eye in Mikhailov Manor upon me.

  It’s a show for them, a dramatic event to entertain them. It’s no different than the performances given by the talent slaves.

  I feel lightheaded, sick to my stomach, and my hands are shaking with one question bouncing around inside my skull.

  Am I going to die today?

  Sound comes back to me in a rush as I suddenly think of Ezra, remembering he’s here, he’s watching this and powerless to stop it. I snap my head to look at him, just feet away, as my fire-engulfed brain explodes in pain with an all new kind of terror.

  What will become of Ezra if Nikolai blows my brains out in front of him? If he’s forced to see me lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around my head and staining his feet?

  God, no.

  I can’t bear to think of it. Tears that wipe away any dignity I might have had left drip down my cheeks against my will. I sniff and tilt my chin, lifting my head a little higher, hoping it masks my fear.

  It’s not for me or for Nikolai.

  It’s for the man I fell in love with.

  That man is losing his mind with worry right now. It’s evident to everyone around us with the way he shouts and swears and tries to fight against Kostya. But the gun that Nikolai holds puts us both in our places.

  Though I still feel Ezra’s rage vibrating in my soul, Nikolai startles my attention away as he shouts to no one and everyone who will listen.

  “Let this be a lesson to all of you ungrateful whores. You belong to your master. Your body belongs to your master. You do not get to choose who you give it to. Vicious, conniving sluts, the whole lot of you.”

  No one bats an eye at Nikolai’s behavior. No one intervenes to stop him. I am nothing more than a talent slave and Nikolai can end my life right here and now if he wishes to.

  He steps forward and my body jolts.

  I press my eyes shut tight.

  I breathe slowly.

  I count.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six—

  To be continued…

  Release Date

  September 15, 2020

  Click here to order!

  PLAYLIST

  Anya and Ezra’s Performance Song

  Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley

  Heart Killer by Gossling

  bury a friend by Billie Eilish

  Trampoline by SHAED & ZAYN

  Dance Monkey by Tones And I

  River by Bishop Briggs

  Six Feet Under by Billie Eilish

  Black Hole Sun by Nouela

  Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

  Iris by Kina Grannis

  Unsteady by X Ambassadors

  If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe & Julia Michaels

  Love Me Now by John Legend

  Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Marilyn Manson

  I Will Survive by J2 featuring Blu Holliday

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Brynn Ford is an independent author of romance in all its beautiful and sensually taboo forms. She is a lover of the dark, twisted, and playful, and strives to bring the unmentionable aspects of passionate romance into her stories.

  Brynn resides in the Midwest with her husband and sons, whom she expects will someday be embarrassed by their mom’s books. When she isn’t obsessively writing, you may find her binge-watching favorite shows while eating far too much junk food or fanatically reading, always seeking to lose herself in the emotional roller coaster of a damn good story.

  She is quite the idealist, despite her fascination with the wicked and warped aspects of humanity. Some of her stories may run out of words before a happily ever after, but she’s a firm believer that her characters continue to live on outside the pages in the minds of her readers. Stories don’t end just because there aren’t any more pages to turn.

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve been dreaming of writing and publishing a dark romance for years—though I honestly hadn’t expected this story to be the first. Anya and Ezra just kept on nudging me to tell their story and so, here we are. I’m so thankful that you decided to come along on their journey!

  My beta readers—Rachel, Danielle, Carrie, and Kaylan—are nothing short of amazing! Thank you all for the helpful comments and feedback that helped me make this book the best it can be! A special thank you to Rachel for helping me catalog and keep track of all the details.

  To my editor, Silvia, a huge thank you for helping me clean up my manuscript. You gave me much needed confidence in Anya and Ezra’s story and I can’t wait to work with you on the rest!

  I’m so grateful for the amazing people at Najla Qamber Designs for making such a beautiful book cover and putting on the finishing touches with the interior formatting. You are all amazing to work with and I’m so thankful for the beauty you brought to this story!

  Thank you to my husband. You’ve always believed in me and supported me in this crazy writing journey. I know you don’t always “get it” but you’re still understanding of my need to do this thing. You’re the best!

  To friends and family who’ve supported me along the way, thank you for being there for me!

  Finally, a huge thank you to all you daring readers! Dark romance readers are definitely my people and I’m so happy my book made its way into your hands (and hopefully into your heart, too). I hope you enjoyed reading “Counts of Eight” as much as I enjoyed writing it—sorry for the brutal cliffhanger, but at least you’ve got something to look forward to, right?

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