“Fuck!”
I closed my eyes, finally panting, watching the steam from my heated breath fogging up the window. Using just my pinky, I wrote him a catching, sweet little note, all spelled out in big, bold letters.
DIE
I heard the same dark chuckle as before when he pulled away, raking both hands through his disheveled hair. Oops. Had I rattled his cage?
Aleksei adjusted his attire, taking two long strides away from me. Bending, he grabbed my clothes, tossing them in my direction. “Get dressed.”
“No after passion small talk? No sweet nothings whispered in my ear?” I drew a heart around the word, able to tell he was watching every single thing I was doing.
He moved back toward his drink, polishing off the entire contents, slamming the glass on his desk with a hard thud.
I turned around to face him, smiling as his gaze shifted to the word again, satisfied I’d made my point.
“Make no mistake, Willow. I take what I want, when I want. You’re right on several levels, including the fact I’m a cold-hearted bastard. You obviously believe this to be a game. Then so be it; however, there’s something else you need to keep in mind. I never lose. The welfare of your brother depends on how quickly you learn to obey me.”
“Is that so?”
He adjusted his diamond-studded cufflinks, forcing me to notice his manicured nails, just as perfect as the rest of him. I pulled my clothes close to my chest, disgusted with my nakedness.
“Discipline is an art, cherie, and I am a consummate perfectionist. There are dozens of very painful punishments that can be inflicted on a human body, many never leaving a mark of any kind. The amount of anguish I will impose will depend on your choices, and you will be required to make several outstanding selections.” He took slow and even steps in my direction.
Every inch closer he came, the harder my heart thudded, my pulse skipping. “If you lay a finger on my brother, there won’t be a rat-infested hole you can climb into or an alligator-filled swamp you can swim in where I won’t find you. And when I’m finished, there won’t be enough of you left to feed a swarm of insects. I suggest you keep that in mind.”
His smile was as charming as ever, the glimmer in his eyes malevolent. “It will be my absolute pleasure to use you, fuck you, train you and when I’m finished…” He allowed his statement to linger as he closed the distance. “I. Will. Break. You.”
Aleksei
Three hours earlier
Barbarian.
I’d heard the expression more than once when I’d walked into a room. Perhaps I was, savage in nature and unforgiving in every way. What those working against me believed had no bearing on me in any manner.
I couldn’t give a fuck what they thought.
Enemies.
I was a man who should look over his shoulder every day, prepared for some form of retaliation for one or more of my merciless decisions. I never did. That wouldn’t suit either my family or my way of life.
Especially my father, a man I respected who others feared. He was truly the barbarian in the family, exactly like the stories I’d heard about my grandfather, both living through horrid conditions and with savage methods of dealing with anyone who dared to challenge their way of life.
We were Bratva and we were brutal. We weren’t only merciless in business, cold-hearted in every manner; we also refused to stand for anything but total and absolute submission from our women. Were they adored and protected? Fiercely. Were they punished for stepping over the line?
Absolutely.
While my father fashioned himself to be the king of our portion of the underworld, I’d taken over almost the entire helm, boosting our business and our wealth by a solid two hundred percent. I was no one’s friend and lovers meant little to me, eye candy and a necessity for certain traditional events and celebrations.
A special meeting had been called of the five bureaus, the offer to hold it in my city an honor. I knew this meant an act of retaliation was being requested. We were the sons of the five mafia kingpins holding court in the United States, all powerful and influential killers. I chuckled at the thought as I shifted the Mercedes into fifth, making a sharp turn and enjoying the feel of the engine.
By all rights, the five of us shouldn’t have formed an alliance. We were supposed to be rivals. Our fathers certainly wouldn’t approve. Still, working together had certain benefits, including additional soldiers as necessary. Even our enemies continuously crossed state lines.
Sons of Darkness. I wasn’t entirely certain which one of us had coined the expression but the term certainly fit.
I was late, something I refused to tolerate from any of my business associates, but my father’s earlier request didn’t allow for a denial. He was worried about our export business. Someone was stepping on our turf.
That wasn’t going to continue.
I pulled the car into the valet parking, the tires squealing as I applied the brakes. As I climbed out, fastening the single button on the tuxedo jacket, there wasn’t a woman or man who didn’t turn and stare. The majority of people in the great city of Philadelphia knew my lineage, but they had no idea what I was capable of. Tonight, the gawkers were more interested to see if I was a celebrity. I’d been to this hotel before, the Ritz the number one destination for various celebrations and political events. Tonight was no exception, honoring the mayor’s recent reelection.
With my father’s influence of course.
In return, we controlled the police force, allowing for a more peaceful time. Crime was low, the streets safer.
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. We simply had a very personal way of dealing with those who got out of line.
After dropping my keys into the valet’s hand, I strolled into the lobby, heading straight for the secluded and posh bar. I knew the others would be waiting. I barely acknowledged the bartender, although the lovely female had served me on several occasions and knew exactly how to prepare my drink.
She took a moment to admire the suit as I walked by, and I could almost hear her heavy breathing. The private room had been reserved for our use, even though our meetings generally took thirty minutes or less. When I strolled in, I could hear a heated conversation between Dominick and Lorenzo, princes of the New York Lugiano and Chicago Francesco families respectively.
They were usually at each other’s throats, something I found amusing.
“Well, well, the Russian arrives. Fashionably late or should I just say fashionable?” The man’s laughter often got on my nerves, but Kelan Rock, the infamous actor had garnered a heightened level of respect in the recent months. He’d finally accepted not only his real name of Michael Cappelini, he’d also embraced his true lineage, taking over as mafia don for his father. Los Angeles had no idea how savage the man could be.
“I apologize. I had other pressing business.” I noticed that Miguel was unusually quiet, sitting by himself and swirling a half-consumed drink. I’d heard about the various dangerous elements facing the Garcia reign in Miami. The recent bloodshed had been horrific.
“At least you’re here,” Lorenzo said, giving Dominick another harsh glare.