by Winter Fox
Mariusz took the bottle of vodka which Nikolai offered him, taking a long drink. “I spoke with Dante, and he didn’t like the idea of me talking to Carlos Ruiz. In fact, he didn’t like the idea of Carlos Ruiz being alive at all. So, he asked me to cease negotiations.”
Ilya frowned. “If he wanted you to kill Ruiz why didn’t you just do it in Colombia?”
Mariusz threw himself down on a plush chair in the corner of the room. Stretching his arm out over the back of the seat. “Because I knew that my Lieutenant would want a chance to join the party.”
Ilya shook his head. “Honestly, korol you’re too kind. You should let the others have a shot.”
Mariusz’s eyes narrowed sharply. “They already did. Have you not seen the state of him?” He gestured at the bruises on Ruiz’s face.
“Let them carry on, Mariusz. I don’t mind sitting this one out.” Ilya started for the stairs. Liselle needed to get her ass out of Mariusz’s bedroom. If he found her in there she’d be in serious trouble.
Ilya knew that Mariusz’s frame of mind was always dark after a session of torture and killing. The reason he knew that was because his own frame of mind was exactly the same. Both men became almost inhuman, consumed by darkness for hours afterward.
If Mariusz made him do this, there was no way he could go near Liselle. At least until tomorrow. He knew that he would hurt her otherwise.
It suddenly occurred to him that this was exactly what Mariusz wanted. He was tempting Ilya’s demons, calling them forward to play. He knew that Ilya wouldn’t go near the girl in that frame of mind, and Ilya suddenly realized that he was being pulled into a trap that would leave Liselle alone and vulnerable.
“I don’t feel so great, korol. I think I might get an early night if that’s all right with you?”
Mariusz was on his feet, and across the room in seconds. He stepped in so close to Ilya that only his Lieutenant could hear the words he hissed. “It isn’t all right with me, Ilya. I just told you that you’re going to torture and kill Carlos Ruiz. So you’re going to torture and kill Carlos Ruiz.”
Ilya opened his mouth to speak, but Mariusz wasn’t done.
“If you don’t join in, Lieutenant, then I’m going to take Sava upstairs right this fucking minute, and we’ll leave my fiancée bleeding at your door once we’re done.”
Ilya’s skin actually started to hurt as the anger inside him burned so fucking hard it felt as though he was melting from the inside out. He fought to keep calm, and seem disinterested in whatever happened to Liselle. “What makes you think that I give a shit what you do with her?”
Mariusz grinned, and it was a grin which was so filled with ice it could freeze a waterfall. “Don’t fucking test me, Ilya. Not unless you’re entirely okay with the consequences for Liselle.”
Ilya fought back the rage. Mariusz didn’t bluff. Ever. He had to relent if he wanted to stop her from getting hurt. She was brave as fuck, but he didn’t know if she could survive both Mariusz and Sava together—Ilya knew of a few women who hadn’t.
Making his decision, Ilya turned back toward Ruiz—who cried out in horror at the sight of the Lieutenant approaching. “Okay, korol. Let’s play.”
Mariusz barked out his ragged laughter. “Atta boy, Lieutenant. I promise you that once we’re done here, you can go back to my little Liselle. Perhaps you can fuck her while you still have the Colombian’s blood on your hands. She’s a Marchesi whore after all, so she’d probably enjoy it.”
Ilya cringed inwardly. If he went back to Liselle after this, he’d hurt her—it was something that he knew he could not control. But if he didn’t go back to her then she’d be alone, and every single man here was going to be blood-drunk and craving a way to make the violence last tonight.
He was damned either way, and Mariusz knew it. This was a set-up by his korol, designed to make Liselle turn against him. She would hate him for abandoning her to be hurt, and she would despise him for the things he would do to her if he was alone with her after killing Ruiz.
He wanted to fucking kill Mariusz in that moment.
Instead he focused all of his rage on the unfortunate Carlos Ruiz. Sliding the knife that he almost always carried, from his belt, Ilya stalked forward until he was standing between the man’s legs.
“Please, Lieutenant? Don’t do this.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Ilya lashed out with his knife, slicing a long red channel across the Colombian’s face. Before taking a step back to enjoy the look of pain in the other man’s eyes. It didn’t take much for his demons to rise to the surface, and enjoyment in the torture came quickly.
Carlos howled in pain, and fear. “You can’t do this, you fucking pricks. The south will come for you, and they will slaughter every last one of you.”
Mariusz had returned to his seat, smirking in black glee. “No, they won’t come, Carlos. Because once you’re dead, Dante will tear through your territory like a wildfire. There will be nothing left of you within a week.”
Then Mariusz raised his voice. “Come on, Lieutenant, put some fucking effort in.”
Ilya lifted the point of the knife up to his face, and pretended to study it. Taking a step forward, he touched a finger against the point, and making a show of being satisfied with the sharpness, he pressed it against the whimpering Colombian’s shoulder. Then he began to apply pressure. But he did it ever so slowly, making certain that every single millimeter of the knife’s entry hurt like a bitch.
Carlos was howling in pain and rage, when a look of horrified realization appeared in his eyes, as he desperately sought Ilya’s own cold black gaze. “My family. You can’t kill my family. Please?”
Ilya looked toward Mariusz—who just shrugged. Ilya didn’t kill women or children, he was still too haunted by what he had done to Mariusz’s sister all those years ago. But there was no way that Dante was going to leave Ruiz’s family alive. Fuck knew what he’d actually do to them before he killed them. And there wasn’t a thing that Ilya could do to stop it. Even if he wanted to.
The only thing that he could do was try to protect Liselle by making sure that Mariusz was satisfied with his efforts. Leaning toward the bloody mess that was Colombia’s ex drug-king, he growled. “Your family will die. Every single one of them—man, woman and child. And Dante will bathe in their blood.”
“Let me leave, I do not want to watch this.” Hearing Liselle’s voice made his head snap back toward the stairs, and when he saw her shaking her head in disgust, his heart sank.
Anatoli was wrestling with her, trying to keep her facing forward, and watching the show. Ilya was furious with himself, and furious with Mariusz. All of this had been set up to show her his true nature—to turn her against him. He looked at his korol, just as the older man waved a hand to let Anatoli know that he could release her.
The damage had already been done.
As soon as Anatoli let go of her, Liselle dashed from the room, disappearing up the stairs. Ilya turned back to the whimpering Ruiz, and without hesitation he jammed the knife through the side of the man’s neck. His jugular vein exploded, and his life ebbed out of the break in his flesh—running down his chest and across his thighs in a crimson wave.
“I’m done,” Ilya announced, heading for the stairs. He had no idea where he intended to go. He couldn’t be around her—wouldn’t be around her. But he had to get out of that room, and away from Mariusz. His current mood was beyond murderous, and he couldn’t afford to make a mistake that would cost him his family.
Every fiber in his body wanted to explain to her that it wasn’t what it looked like. He suddenly realized that he hated the thought of her hating him.
Mariusz was at his side in a flash, laying his hand on Ilya’s arm to stay him. Ilya growled at the invasion of his personal space, but remained obediently where he was.
Mariusz’s voice was calm, almost seductive. “Be careful of her, Lieutenant. She’s not told you the whole truth, I don’t think.”
Ilya narrowed his eye
s to slits. “What do you mean?” He ground out.
Mariusz shrugged. “Before I left for Colombia, I told her to go back to your bed, and let you use her. I told her to encourage you, and to make you fall for her a little bit more than you already had.”
Ilya felt sick. “No. You didn’t.”
Mariusz barked his manic laugh. “Ask her, Lieutenant. All the time that she was grinding her pussy on your cock was because I’d told her to do it. She’s playing you, and you let her.”
Ilya stood and stared at Mariusz, waiting for whatever came next. But the other man simply gestured to the stairs. “Why don’t you go and ask the lovely Liselle for yourself?”
Knowing that he was currently capable of anything, and knowing that he shouldn’t be around anybody right now, wasn’t enough to stop him. Fury rose inside him as he accepted that she’d played him for a complete fucking idiot. He took the stairs two at a time, determined to search her out.
All the while knowing with complete certainty that he was going to hell.
28
Liss
For the second time today, I took the stairs two at a time. The only difference now was that I had no idea where the hell I should run to. After what I’d just witnessed, there was no way I was going to Ilya’s room, and if I went to Mariusz’s room—bolting the door behind me—he’d kick it down in seconds when he wanted to get to his bed.
Reaching the top of the stairs, my eyes darted from left to right. Ilya and Mariusz’s bedrooms were located to the right, so I chose to go left—hoping that I would find a room with a lockable door somewhere in this huge house. I jogged along the hallway, ignoring the first few doors that I came to. I wanted to be further away from the monsters below than just a couple of rooms.
I finally came to a door which I was satisfied was far enough away, and I pushed it open to reveal an immaculately presented guest bedroom. The bed was already made up, and there were even bottles of mineral water waiting on the bedside table.
I pushed the door closed behind me, wanting to check if there was a bolt, or a key to lock myself inside. But I wasn’t really surprised when I discovered that there wasn’t. This was clearly a room for guests, and Mariusz entertained the type of visitors that you wouldn’t want to permit to lock their doors behind them.
The sound of heavy footfalls pounding along the hall outside caused my heart to thud heavily in my ears. Every hair on my arms stood up on end, screaming out to warn me about the danger which I knew was coming for me.
I quickly realized that it was too late to try a different room, the footsteps were practically outside the door already. And so, I quietly clicked the door closed, and slipped inside a polished wooden closet. I had left the bedroom light off. It was a full moon, and there was just enough light to see by, without announcing my location.
Holding my breath, I prayed that Ilya wouldn’t find me.
When the door to the room clicked open, I almost screamed in frustration. How did you know I was in here? I wanted to ask him.
He closed the door softly behind him, and I was struck by how tense his controlled actions made me. It would have been much less terrifying if he had slammed the door closed in anger. As though he had heard my thoughts through the silence of the room, he spoke in a low growl.
“Your perfume gave you away, milaya. You have expensive tastes. But that means that you leave a perfect trail of evidence behind you when you run.”
I bit my lip angrily. I’d never regretted my expensive tastes more than I did in that moment. I’d led him right to me, and now I knew that he was about to do something which both of us would regret.
My mind thrashed about in a storm of panic, I understood that if he hurt me then the tentative trust which we had built together since my arrival, would be ripped apart at the seams.
But when he tore the closet door open, and I saw the murder in his pitch-black eyes, I knew instantly that I wasn’t going to be able to talk him down from this. He was too far gone. He reached into the closet and wrapped his fingers around the ends of my hair, tugging me out into the middle of the room.
“Ilya. Stop,” I ground out between teeth which were clenched against the pain.
Letting go of my hair, he took a step closer to me, and I backed up. So, he stepped closer again, and I backed up once more. When the backs of my legs met the resistance of the bed, I came to a sudden stop and stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes.
The look in his black eyes was so terrible, I would have sworn it could turn souls to stone. He wasn’t completely here, I was certain of that. It was as though his body had been taken over by some sort of evil being. Like he was a zombie.
Wrapping one hand around my waist he pulled me tightly against him, in a mocking version of a lovers embrace, and leaning down, until his head was nestled against my hair, he pressed his mouth against my ear, and whispered in a raspy voice.
“You betrayed me.”
What?
“No. I didn’t. Ilya what are you talking about?” I pushed against his solid chest, but I knew it was a waste of time. As if I could make him let me go.
“Mariusz told you to go back to my bed.” His voice was so low, and so cold it made my entire body tremble. “He told you to let me use you.”
Shit.
I closed my eyes. I was more than afraid now—convinced that he was actually going to kill me. “That wasn’t why I came back to your bed. I came back because I wanted to be there.”
I was surprised by how easy the admission came to my lips. A week ago, if someone had told me that I would choose to be with Ilya, I would have told them not to be ridiculous. But I knew that I was speaking the truth. He wasn’t Prince Charming—that was true—but he made me feel something I had never felt before.
“You’re a fucking liar,” he roared, abruptly letting go of my waist.
My eyes flew open, and I stumbled backward, landing against the crisply made bedclothes. Panic gripped me, and I flipped onto my stomach, trying to crawl away from him. When he caught a hold of my ankles, and dragged me back down the bed, I cried out in fear.
“Ilya, I haven’t betrayed you. Please believe me? You’re not thinking straight after what you were…”
He landed on my back, crushing the air from my body in one choking exhale. His hand wrapped around my hair, yanking my head back off the bed. Then his mouth was at my ear again. “Then why the fuck didn’t you tell me what Mariusz told you to do?”
I paused. Why had I held back? Why hadn’t I been completely honest with him? Especially after he had opened up to me about his past. Squeezing my eyes closed against the tears which burned there, because of the searing pain in my scalp, I tried to answer him with complete honesty.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t fully trust you.”
He roared in anger, and I instantly regretted my choice of words. I had to try again. “Ilya, listen to me. You have to understand what you’re asking of me. You stole me from my home, held me down while Mariusz attacked me, you have tormented me.”
He sank his teeth into the soft crease between my neck and shoulder, making me yelp. “You enjoyed every minute of being tormented, you fucking little whore.”
I whimpered, and wriggled in a desperate attempt to throw him off me. “You were torturing Ruiz just now. You were enjoying it—all of you were enjoying it.”
For just an instant, I thought I felt him soften slightly against my body. Then he gave a hoarse laugh as his free hand found the top of my trousers, and began to tug at them. “Of course, I was enjoying it. It’s who I am. I keep fucking telling you, milaya. I am not your Prince Charming.
I renewed my struggle when I realized what he intended to do. Bringing one of my hands up to flail at the air behind my head, I tried to scratch at his face. When his huge hand settled around mine, pressing it back against the bed—in front of my face—I gasped in horror at the blood stains which were beginning to dry on his tanned skin.
“Don’t do this, Ilya,�
� I whispered.
He yanked at my trousers, and they slid down my legs. My underwear coming along with them. “Why not?” He rasped against my ear.
I whimpered as I heard him unzip his jeans. “Because if you do, you’ll break everything apart. The trust will be gone, and both of our families will suffer.”
He grunted as he kicked his jeans down, and he used his knees to force my legs apart beneath him. “What fucking trust?” He murmured as the hard tip of his length pressed against my bone-dry opening.
Burying my face against the bedclothes, attempting to block out what was happening to me, I tried to get through to him one final time. Desperately wishing that I wasn’t pressed onto my stomach. If only I was able to look into his eyes, I was certain I would be able to break past the barrier created by the devil who had possessed him tonight.
“Ilya, I trust you, and I want you. I will give myself to you freely. You don’t have to take my body by force. It’s yours. You must know that by now.”
He hesitated, his cock quivering against my entrance, and I breathed out in premature relief. Had I gotten through to him?
Then his hand pressed against the back of my neck, and in one painfully searing thrust he buried himself inside me.
I felt as though the whole world was tumbling down around me. Not only had he shattered the trust we had built up between us, but he had also damaged any chances of me and my family getting out from Mariusz’s control alive.
I felt more emotionally bereft than I had at any other time since I came to Mariusz’s mansion. Ilya took more from me in that moment than anyone had ever stolen from me in my life.
Closing my eyes, and burying my hands and face into the bed—I focused on enduring Ilya’s attack. It would be over soon, and I would survive him. I had to.
He fucked me with a relentless pace, and after a while my body self-lubricated itself as a defense against the tearing pain of him repeatedly thrusting inside me.