I hurry to my office. When the video screen on my desk flickers on, I’m surprised to see my mother smiling into the camera. Her face, yellowish and thin for the past year, has filled in and she’s flushed with healthy color. As I greet her, my sister pushes her way into the picture.
“Kostya! You’ll never guess!” she cries out, bouncing up and down.
“You’re right, I’m not smart enough.” I smile at her fondly. She’s the most genuinely sweet, pure girl I’ve ever met. “So tell me.”
“Papa says I can go to science camp! I’m leaving tomorrow, and it’s for four whole weeks! I never thought he’d let me go, but I’m all packed and everything!”
“That’s fantastic!” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice. My stepfather is an old-fashioned man; he’s always discouraged Elizaveta’s interest in science, pushing her towards the domestic arts. Cooking, sewing, painting. Even though she’s not his blood, she is related to him by marriage so she will live her life by his rules. He’s made it very clear to her that he’ll find a husband for her as soon as she finishes high school; college isn’t in the cards for her.
What could have changed his mind about camp?
And my mother? I can’t get over how good she looks. We chat happily for several minutes, and she tells me that she started getting her strength back several days ago. Some new regimen her doctors have her on.
But the more she chatters on, the more chilled I feel.
My stepfather may be getting more forgetful, irritable, and spiteful as he gets older, but he is not a stupid man. And he still knows how to jerk my strings. He’s sending me a message. Sometimes it’s the stick, but today it’s the carrot.
Perhaps he sensed my hesitance when it came to training Anya. He’s been bragging to everyone about the auction, and so has Pasha. If she’s not ready in time, he’s going to look like a fool.
This call is a warning shot. He’s reminding me of the power that he has over my mother and sister’s life.
After my mother finishes talking to me, Yeger appears on the screen.
“Kostya, my boy!” He hasn’t called me that in years. “I talked to Roger the other day.” That’s the senator who came to lunch. “He was very impressed with how well-trained Anya was. Said you’ve got her crawling like a dog.” He grins at me, beaming with approval.
“Hell yeah.” I flash him an enormous smile, baring my teeth, showing him how pleased I am with myself. “She’d bark, roll over and play dead too. All I have to do is snap my fingers.”
“I knew I was right to have faith in you. After this auction, I want to triple the amount of product we sell.”
My smile never wavers, but I’m screaming inside. I’m already barely handling the training of a small group of girls, every couple of months. Triple the amount? I’ll lose my fucking mind. “Of course, sir.”
He nods in satisfaction. “And the other girls have been sent to the buyer? I heard from him this morning. He’s very excited. Cleared his calendar for the next week.”
“We were just about to send them off when I got your message.” I was just about to notify the buyer that we’d run into a complication and I needed a couple more weeks. Now I have no choice.
All I can do is pray that Aleksandr is wrong, and the girls are properly trained.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it then.” And he cuts off the call.
As I go to find Aleksandr, I’m wondering about my mother’s sudden improvement. Not just her mood, but her health. All this time that she’s been sick, and my stepfather acted like the doting husband, fussing over her, bringing in doctors and nurses...
His doctors. His nurses. On his payroll.
And now, suddenly, mysteriously, her health turned around. Just like that.
He’s made a mistake, I think to myself. He’s just all but announced that he was the one making my mother sick, and now he’s letting her be healthy.
I remember Anya’s words to me – that my stepfather made my mother’s life a living hell. That he abused her. Maybe he did, maybe I just didn’t let myself see it. I certainly never saw bruises or physical evidence, but my stepfather’s too smart for that. I knew that my mother suffered some deep, secret sorrow that she hid from people who didn’t know her well, but I assumed that it was from the loss of my father.
Or I saw just what I wanted to see.
Servants do talk. Maybe her servants saw something, and told Masha, and word got back to Anya.
Unfortunately, even if I do try to take some kind of action against my stepfather to save my mother and my sister, it will take time and careful behind the scenes planning. It won’t be in time to save Raisa and the girls. And it probably won’t save Anya either. The auction’s coming soon, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to put a plan in place to save my mother and sister by then.
And I don’t know if my mother would even believe me if I told her of my suspicions. My mother is a traditional woman, raised to be a wife. She was utterly lost when my father died, and married Yeger six months later.
With a heavy heart, I call Aleksandr and Mikhail into my office, and tell them to deliver the girls to Moriz.
“Just warn him that new slaves have an adjustment period, no matter how well we’ve trained them,” I say wearily. “Tell him he must keep his guard up at all times.”
“Yes, sir,” Aleksandr says. Mikhail won’t look me in the eye as they leave. I probably shouldn’t have asked this of him.
And now, to keep my stepfather happy, he’s going to need something in return. He’s greedy that way. He’ll expect me to show him my appreciation for what he’s doing for my sister and my mother.
I know what he wants. Proof that Anya is submitting to me.
The happiness I felt at seeing my mother’s good fortune shrivels into a hard, bitter lump that settles in my throat.
Anya will never love me. She’s doomed, I’m doomed, but at the very least, I’ll figure out a way to save my family.
I return to my office and call Diego. “I have a favor to ask,” I say to him. Every word tastes like poison. “Can you send either Rocco or Carmelo over here? I need some help breaking in one of my girls.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kostya
When I explain exactly what I need, Diego hesitates. He is no fool.
He questions me about why I couldn’t have one of my men do it. I give vague answers. My men are busy. Bringing in someone new will shake things up, show the girl I’m serious.
My explanations don’t make a lot of sense, and he keeps pushing. Finally I tell him “I need your help with this one, and I can’t tell you more than that. I will owe you a favor, and you know I’m good for it.”
The truth is, if any of my men put a hand on her, I wouldn't be able to work with them anymore. I couldn’t look at a man every day knowing that he’d forced himself on Anya. Eventually, I’d probably snap, and kill him – for following my orders.
I worry that I’ll have the same feelings about whoever Diego sends, but at least it will be easier to avoid them.
While I’m waiting, Raisa, Tatiana and Zoya are being delivered to their new owner. I get a text notifying me that the delivery was successful. Hooray, we’re $750,000 richer. A well-trained virgin commands a very high price.
And my sister will be happily attending her new science camp tomorrow, and my mother is healthy and smiling.
My sister. Jesus. What would I do if she were ever taken? If she were sold off like those girls?
I sit by my bar, and I drink as I wait for Rocco. I try not to think of what’s going to happen to Anya in a little while. I fail. It’s all I can think about. Aleksandr and Mikhail return, and Mikhail joins me at the bar.
“You handling it okay?” I ask him.
He swallows hard. “Yes, sir,” he says. He’s not okay, and he shouldn’t be.
He walks behind the bar and pours himself a double shot of vodka without asking for permission, and drains it in one long, shuddering gulp. I don’t giv
e him a hard time. How could I? I’m killing my liver every day because I can’t face what I’ve become.
Rocco arrives a little while later. The minute he walks in the door, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I want to punch the smirk off his face.
I bring him into the photography studio, where I already have the video camera set up, and I tell him what I want him to do. The video camera is pointed at a bed, with cuffs attached to the headboard and footboard.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask him.
Who am I kidding? “Hello, have you met me? Bring it on.” There’s a fierce anger burning underneath that grin. Somebody fucked him over long ago, I realize. Only true love could turn into such hate.
It’s different than Aleksandr, in a way. Aleksandr loathes all of humanity, except for me. Rocco just purely hates women and when he punishes them, in his head, he’s seeing someone very specific.
I have him put a hood on his face. He can’t be recognizable in the video.
Then, I call Aleksandr to fetch Anya. I tell him to put the blindfold on her. I have to toughen up. No more of this boyfriend-girlfriend fantasy.
He drags her in to the photography studio with vicious jerks of the leash, and she stumbles, crying out and flailing for balance. I clench my fists and fight my natural impulse to leap in and save her. Rocco glances at me, arching an eyebrow.
“You sure about this?”
“I’m fine,” I growl, as Aleksandr hauls her over to the bed. He chains her ankle to the frame, leaving her hands free. She’s wearing a t-shirt and panties, her hair mussed, and there are fading bruises on her legs from all the times she’s bumped into furniture.
“Nice,” Rocco nods appreciatively. “This’ll be fun.” He flexes his fingers, cracking his knuckles.
Aleksandr leaves us. My muscles lock up, and it takes everything I have to make myself move from where I’m standing. But Rocco’s waiting, and I have chosen my path, and I will follow it.
Slowly, I walk over and stand behind the camera. Rocco strides over and stands next to the bed. He snatches her blindfold off, and she blinks in the bright light. When she looks up and realizes what’s about to happen, she shrinks away from him.
“You knew this was coming.” I grind the words out mercilessly. “I’m making a video for my stepfather, so he can see how well trained you are. Behave, or I’ll have Raisa back here this evening.”
“You can’t do this to me! Please don’t let him...” she can’t even bear to finish the sentence. She shrinks up against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.
"We'll do it the hard way, then.” Is that my voice speaking? It is. I force every word past my lips. “And afterwards, I’ll punish you, and we’ll film that too.”
My hand shakes as I gesture at Rocco to proceed. Rage pounds through me as I he grabs her wrists and cuffs them to the bed frame. She’s screaming and thrashing the whole time. My vision begins to blacken, spots swimming in front of my eyes.
He straddles her torso in one smooth motion, and fumbles with his zipper.
Something explodes in my head. I can’t see, I can’t hear, I can’t feel a thing. My arms flail and I strike blindly, my fists slamming into flesh. Anya’s shrieks fill my ears and make my heart bleed.
When my vision clears I’m in the hallway, and Rocco is stumbling back away from me, eyes wary, his hand on his bleeding mouth. My knuckles are bleeding, but I feel no pain. I must have punched him, though.
“Did you...did you...” I suck in big gulps of air. “Did you rape her?”
He glares at me. “I didn’t do anything to her. You went fucking mental, and dragged me off her. And you punched me in the face.”
"I'm sorry," I rasp. “Fuck! Fucking hell!” I punch the wall, sinking a hole into the stucco and sending a jolt of pain shooting up my arm.
Then I slump against the wall, defeated. “Hit me,” I say, in the depths of despair. “I won’t fight you. Hell, shoot me. I’m fucking done.”
He looks at me with surprising sympathy.
"You have feelings for her."
I let out a long, shuddering breath. "I do, but I can’t keep her. She pissed off my stepfather in a very public fashion, and I’ve been ordered to break her. I've only got a couple of weeks left before the auction.”
"Yeah, I know,” he muses. “I was going to go. I never buy any of them, too rich for my blood, but I like to watch.” Damn, he really is angry at women. “Why did you need the video?"
"To show to my stepfather.
"So, you need a video that shows someone screwing her. Why can’t it be you?” he suggests. “Because I can take the video of you screwing her, she can pretend she’s being forced...she’d go along with that, wouldn’t she? I get the impression that she has feelings for you too."
I grimace. She does still love me, despite herself. I saw it in her face. She was being threatened, and she looked to me to save her. Because she loves me, and because she doesn’t believe I’m truly evil.
But Rocco’s plan won’t work. "It has to be someone else. My stepfather suspects that I still care for her. I need to show that she’s been trained well enough that she’ll have sex with anyone I tell her to, on command.”
Rocco’s brow wrinkles in thought. "I think I have an idea,” he says. “I can’t do anything about the auction, but I do have a way I can help you fake a video, so you’d have sex with Anya, and then we’d alter it to make it look like someone else was doing it. She’d have to go along with it, pretend she was being forced.”
Suspicion wars with hope. “Why would you do that for me?”
“Because in return, you’re going to owe us a really big favor. Whatever Diego asks. And I mean, whatever he asks. Up to and including killing your stepfather if he starts shit with the Council again.”
Fuck. I sort of owed them for Rocco coming over today, but that wasn’t such a big deal. I could have tossed Diego fifty grand and we’d have been good.
What Rocco is asking is huge. The Elders would hunt me down and skin me alive – unless I could convince them that Yeger is a liability. And he is. He’s less mentally sharp than he used to be, and he’s angrier, more impulsive. But it’s going to be a while before his issues get serious enough that they’d be would be willing to take action, and time is a luxury I don’t have.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to kill Tiberio and Joe?” I ask. “Diego would be promoted. He’s smooth, he’s political, he could handle my stepfather.”
“We can’t violate the chain of command like that.” Rocco makes a sour face. “It would come back to us, and that would be the end for all of us. Every mafia faction in the world would be gunning for us, and our families. The only way to unseat men like that is to prove that they are a detriment to the organization as a whole, and even then, the other council members would have to be the ones to give the word.”
“I understand.”
I glance at the door to the photography studio. Anya will be in there, freaking out. Waiting for Rocco to come back for her...and for me to film it while it’s happening. I want to go untie her, to comfort her.
I look back at Rocco. “Why does Diego hate them so much, anyway? It’s more than just the fact that they’re lousy bosses. It seems personal.”
“That’s for him to tell you, if he chooses,” Rocco said. “And you’re stalling. If you don’t want my help, I’m out of here.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’d be crazy to agree to this. Then again, maybe I can talk Diego into asking for some other favor. And they’re not going to ask me today or tomorrow. Maybe the next week or so. At least it buys me time.
“Can you really make a video that would be good enough to fool my stepfather?”
“Carmelo is very good at video editing. Like, amazingly good. Have you heard of deep fakes?"
"Vaguely."
"They're a kind of video which swaps out one person’s face for another, so effectively that you can’t tell the difference. So you fuck her on camera, and she acts l
ike she’s being forced. I film it. Carmelo can work his magic and make it look as if someone else is screwing her.”
“That might work,” I say skeptically.
“It will work. We can even do a separate shoot where we film you standing there watching, and yelling orders at her –– and then edit you into the video afterwards.”
It’s a crazy, stupid risk I’ll be taking. It won’t even buy me that much time – but it’s all I’ve got.
“Let’s do it,” I say.
Chapter Seventeen
Anya
I hear footsteps coming back through the doorway, and I jerk against my restraints in panic. When I see Kostya stalking across the room towards me, I let out a gasp of relief.
At least it’s not the Italian guy. Kostya can whip me, he can punish me, I can handle any of that...I can’t survive another man’s hands on me.
His mouth is set in a hard line. He bends down and uncuffs me quickly, and I sit up, rubbing my wrists.
“New plan,” he says, sitting down on the bed next to me. “I have to make a video, and send it to my stepfather. There’s no choice in the matter. The video can be with the man who was just in here, or it can be with me.”
Hope blooms in my heart. “With you,” I say quickly. “You know that, Kostya.”
“You need to pretend to be submitting, but reluctantly. Under threat. Some fake crying would be good. How good an actress are you?”
That actually wrenches a bitter laugh from me. “You have no idea how good.”
He utters a strained chuckle. “Oh, I think I have some idea.”
“Why did you have to bring in that other guy?” I ask resentfully. “I know you’re willing to sell me off to a lifetime of slavery, but I thought that least you didn’t want to stand there and watch.”
“I’m not willing – fuck, Anya.” He buries his face in his hands. “I need to send my stepfather a video of you having sex with another man. I have someone who can take a video of me and you, and do some high-tech magic, and make it look as if it’s someone else. I won’t...I won’t let another man put his hands on you while you’re here.”
Kostya A Dark Bratva Hate Story Page 12