Kira
Light filters in through the blinds. Maykl walks over and cracks them, revealing a breathtaking view of Lake Michigan. It’s bigger than I imagined, stretching as far as the eye can seelike an ocean. The water is grey-blue to match the winter sky.
He has an entire wall of windows. As he walks the length of it and cracks each of the blinds, it’s like he’s changing the distorted pictures in my mind.
What I expected to find of the Chicago bratva vs. what is actually here.
In Moscow, the bratva lived together, like here. They had a more clandestine location. An old pre-war brick hospital that had been converted to house them. They must have had money, but it wasn’t fancy, like this building. It wasn’t showy.
I remember going in looking for Anya once, and it had more of a crack house feel to it than a residence. Not disgusting like the place Anya lived in here, but underground.
There were random people drinking and doing drugs. Dancing. Having sex. Everyone was heavily armed and menacing.
There was a distinctly dangerous edge to the scene. It represented the seedy underbelly of Moscow. A place where teenage girls were taken to work off their father’s debts.
This placeat least Maykl’s apartmentseems like an ordinary residence. If ordinary means luxurious with a priceless view. The front lobby looked like the lobby of any luxury high-rise, with the exception of the heavily armed and tattooed doorman.
I’m not fooledI know they’re criminals. Perhaps far more dangerous than the cell in Moscow. Certainly better funded and organized.
But the beauty makes it harder to judge. So does Maykl’s kindness. His sexiness.
It’s almost harder not to spill my guts to him than it would be if he was beating me and ripping off fingernails.
I know this is a different technique used with captives. Bond them to their captors. Somehow gain their allegiance and trust.
I have to be careful.
Everything’s so mixed up and jumbled for me because we were intimate. Because he helped me with Anya’s funeral arrangements.
The way he ruffled my hair after securing me to the chair did strange things to my mind.
It made me almost crave his attention. His approbation.
He ignores me for a while, washing the breakfast dishes, cleaning up. When he returns, he lifts a water glass to my lips and lets me drink from it.
I swallow several gulps down.
I want to interrogate him now. Find out what goes on in this building. If I’d been smart, I would have taken more time to cultivate something with him. Win his trust.
But I don’t have the time or the money to play a long game here. And I was blinded by my desperation and grief at finding Mika missing.
I guess my own anger with myself for not coming soonerthe moment I lost contact with Anyamade my behavior erratic.
Maykl faces me, leaning against the edge of his desk to consider me. He doesn’t seem angry. Nor does he seem turned on, like before. I sense something more like sympathy from him. He strokes my cheek softly with his large thumb.
“Who are you avenging, Valkiriya?” he asks softly. “Anya?”
The question takes me aback. That he would guess so astutely why I’m here. What I want.
I shake my head. “I’m looking for Mika,” I assert because it’s true, and sticking to the truth is my best bet.
“You think I lied? That we really have him?” He shakes his head. “There’s no one with the name Koslova here.” He raises his brows. “Did you think we had something to do with Anya? With her death?”
I continue to remain close-lipped.
“We’ve bought Russian sex slaves, yes, but to set them free. Some have remained as a choice. No women are imprisoned here, I promise you that, Kira.”
They bought Russian sex slaves. That statement shocks my nervous system. The way he says it so casually. Like human trafficking is something they see every day. Are a part of.
But, of course, he claimed they aren’t.
I attempt to digest the information without showing any reaction. They set them free after they used them? Like they took my sister to pay off our father’s debt?
Or did they buy them for the purpose of setting them free?
I chew it over, not sure what to believe. My past and everything I know about the bratva in Moscow tells me these men do as they please. If it makes them feel magnanimous to free slaves they never should have owned in the first place, they’ll do that.
They do have certain codes they follow.
Maykl stands over me, his beefy arms folded across his chest. “I have a hundred ways of making you talk, Valkiriya. Believe it.”
I give him a sullen stare.
“I don’t want to spill your blood or mar your pretty face. That doesn’t mean I won’t find other ways.”
I avert my face, purposely looking to the lovely view.
Maykl grips my jaw and turns my face to his. “Why are you really here?”
I remain silent.
Maykl’s lips thin. He releases my jaw and moves behind me. I watch his reflection in the window to see him retrieve his gunfrom the freezer of all placesand walk out the door.
In the silence that stretches after leaves, I’m both relieved and worried.
Did he go to get his bratva brothers? What is his plan with me? When will he be back?
Actually, none of that matters. He left me alone. Now I just need to figure out my way out of this chair, so I can call Stepanov and escape the building.
Maykl
I let Kira stew. I need to go downstairs and relieve Gleb of his duties at the front desk. Besides, I need to figure out the best way to proceed, and the longer I stay, the more I show my hand to her.
Truth serum. That’s what I need. In the 1980’s, the KGB pioneered a soluble drugSP-117 that was odorless, colorless and tasteless. It causes the recipient to lose control fifteen minutes after intake.
Maxim has some. He’s our fixer. He’s used the drug to strategic ends in the past. The problem is, if I ask him for it, he’s going to wonder why I need it.
Obviously, I should go to him and Ravil. Explain everything, including my solution, which is to use the drug on Kira to find out exactly who she works for and what she’s after.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the screen, my thumb hovering over it without touching it.
Blyad.’
What if she’s working for one of our enemies?
They could be after Sasha, Maxim’s wife, hoping to kill or capture her to get at that fortune. The interest in those wells gives Ravil a stronghold inside the Russian government. This is how he smuggles his goods from Russia to America without hindrance. Those who control the oil, control government officials around the world. Every other branch of bratva is after what Ravil now has. That’s the power grab and part of what makes our cell so powerful and dangerous.
Kira could certainly be a part of that ploy.
Sending a beautiful Russian woman pretending to need refuge is an excellent way to get someone into the building.
A tight coil of danger winds around my trunk.
I let her in here. I could be the weak link that brings about our demise. If that were true, I could never live with myself.
I swipe across my screen and dial Maxim’s number.
“Maykl.”
Fuck. I hesitate.
Why am I so damn unwilling to turn Kira over to them? What is this hold she seems to have over me?
“Maykl?” he repeats.
“Yes, Maxim. Listen…” I think quickly. “Do you know where I can get my hands on a couple doses of SP-117?” I speak in English because that’s what Ravil requires of us when we speak to each other. He wants us to master the language, so we can move seamlessly through this country.
“Why?”
I knew he’d ask me. I should have prepared a story.
Instead, I growl, “It’s a private matter.”
Silence.
Then Maxim says, “Okay,” with a surprised lilt. “I’ll bring some down.”
Relief sweeps through me. “Thank you.”
I sit behind the desk and tap a pen against the counter, pulling up the camera I set up on Kira.
She appears to be struggling against her bonds.
She won’t get free. I used enough duct tape to keep a small car from moving. It reminds me to grab some zip ties from the desk drawer, though. They might be easier than tape in some instances.
Like in the shower.
That thought gets my dick hard. Remembering what Kira looked like that first night, walking naked out of my bathroom, toweling off her silky blonde hair.
If she’s my prisoner for long, she’ll need another shower. And, of course, I won’t be able to trust her in there by herself. I’ll have to assist.
Soap those lovely soft curves. Slip my fingers into all her nooks and crannies. Make sure she’s squeaky clean before I put her in my bed again.
Maxim arrives off the elevator, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. He walks to the front desk and pulls out a small blister pack containing six pillsthree red, three white.
“It works in fifteen minutes. Dissolve the white one in any liquid, but alcohol is best if you don’t want them to know something happened. The victim will just think he’s groggy from the liquor.”
I nod.
Maxim points to the red pills. “Give them a dose of the red when you’re finished, and they’ll come out of it without knowing anything happened. They won’t remember telling you anything. If you don’t care, the second pill isn’t necessary.” He gives me a scrutinizing look.
I keep my face blank and nod. “Thank you.”
“Personal matter, huh?”
I eye him. He’s very much my superior. Our pakhan’s right-hand man. He certainly could compel me to talk. Still, I remain resolute. “That’s right.”
He shrugs. “I see. Well, I’m here if you need a strategist.”
I suck in a breath. “Da. Thanks. Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Maxim nods, still thoughtful. He hesitates a moment like he’s going to say something more, then turns and strides back to the elevator.
I wait until I hear the doors close before I relax back into my chair and open my palm to examine the pills.
Not telling him was the right solution.
I let Kira in here, it’s on me to find out what she’s up to. If I discover anything, I’ll notify my bratva brothers then.
I already know that decision will probably bite me in the ass, but I hate the alternative. Kira’s my problem to deal with. No one else touches her if I can do anything about it.
Kira
No amount of twisting and turning my hands has loosened the duct tape around them. Nor can I bust my ankles free from the chair legs.
The best option may be to try to break the chair.
I throw my body to the side, encouraging the chair to tip up onto two legs.
It drops back into place.
I rock again and again. Sometimes, I succeed only in making the chair slide instead of tip. Eventually, though, I get it to tilt enough that it falls.
What I didn’t count on, was my weight carrying it backward at the same time.
My head smacks something hard before I even hit the ground, and everything goes black.
I blink my eyes open.
Gospodi, it’s too bright in here.
My head splinters with pain.
I let out a whimper.
“That was unwise, little warrior. What were you thinking?”
Only then do I realize Maykl is here with me, working quickly to cut me free. My arms burst into an explosion of pain as they are released from their position behind my back.
Maykl holds my face and turns it, examining me with his brows down. “Look at me, Kira,” he murmurs in Russian.
I meet his gaze. He studies my eyes, no doubt looking for pupils that are different sizes. Signs of a concussion. I did take a pretty hard knock to the head. I must’ve been out for more than a few seconds if he had time to get up here although he does seem slightly out of breath like he ran up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.
I groan.
“Very unwise. You hit your head on the desk and then again on the floor.”
Realizing my hands are free and he’s focused on my injuries, I trail my fingers along the waistband of his jeans, searching for the pistol.
It’s not there.
He catches my wrist, brings my hand to his mouth, and bites the meaty part of my thumb.
My pussy clenches, and I squeak, more in surprise than in pain although it does hurt. What kind of man bites his captive as punishment? The same kind who spanks her instead of cutting her thumbs off, I suppose.
I try to ignore the flutters this man ignites in me.
I don’t need to get distracted by the physical attraction between us. By the gentle way he handles me as he frees my ankles and lifts me off the chair.
My brain tells me to fight, that this is my moment, my hands and legs are free. I should do as much damage as I can and get myself out of here.
But, for some reason, I hesitate. Maybe it’s the fact that my arms are still on fire with pins and needles. Or because I haven’t found what I came here for, yet.
It can’t be because this man is affecting me. That I enjoy the way he’s running his hands over my body, checking for other injuries with a flare of concern. That I don’t want to harm him because he hasn’t harmed me.
And it’s true that considering our size and weight differences, I’d have to aim to hurt him badly if I wanted to escape. He’s a beast of a man and built of solid muscle. Taking him down would have to involve a major trauma to the head or deadly force. Even if I managed to get his gun, I suspect he could disarm me.
I’ve never shot a man. I’m trained, yes, and I’ve drawn a weapon before, but I’ve never been the one to pull the trigger.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I announce.
“Go.” He jerks his head toward the bedroom.
I’m surprised he’s willing to let me go on my own. I’d be stupid not to use the time to my advantage. I move on wobbly legs, my head throbbing where I hit it. I use the toilet and wash up, then scan the room for weapons. I choose the easiest onethe toilet tank lid. It’s heavy and ceramic. If I use it to smash Maykl’s head, it will give me a chance to get away.
But it’s too late. The bathroom door swings open.
I haul the toilet cover back to swing, but he knocks it out of my hands before I get the change. He’s fast for such a big man.
He spins me around, securing me in a chokehold against his body.
“Still fighting, little warrior?” His voice is a purr in my ear. A rich, amused rumble, like he finds it adorable that I want to fight him. That I’m trying to free myself. “You’re earning yourself one hell of a punishment.”
That makes the flesh between my legs contract and squeeze. My belly flutters.
I have to face the fact that my hesitationmy reluctance to fight my way out of hereis what cost me the few precious seconds I lacked to launch my attack. I may be as ambivalent about Maykl as he is about me.
He bites my ear, hard enough to make me squirm. Heat floods my nether region. My nipples harden against his thin t-shirt. He eases his forearm away from my windpipe and allows his hand to settle over my breast, squeezing roughly.
Another bite to my shoulder.
This guy likes to use his teeth. I shouldn’t find that sexy.
It’s not sexy at all.
It’s…
Damn. Okay, it is hot. I never thought such a thing would turn me on, but it does.
He keeps one arm wrapped tightly around my waist but uses his other hand to whip the t-shirt off me. “You lost your clothing privileges,” he growls.
My heart patters against my chest. For some reason, I can’t come up with a single response. No words. No fight. My brain stalls completely.
“I’ll get cold,” I complain. It’s a weak argument against his dictate.
“I’ll turn up the heat.”
He folds my hands up behind my neck, which has the effect of lifting and separating my breasts.
“I…you…”
Seriouslywhy can’t I think of anything to say at all? I don’t usually turn into the deer in the headlights. Maykl rotates me slowly to face him. His gaze is dark, lids at half-mast as he takes in my naked form.
“I am thinking of many terrible things to do to you.” The low, growly threat makes it sound far more like he’s planning pleasure than pain.
Pleasure for himself, perhaps.
Arousal soaks my sex, as if preparing me for that sort of assault.
He turns me toward the door and walks me out. “Lie face down on the bed.” He releases me.
I bolt for the door. I’m completely naked and without any weapon, but if he thinks I’m going to go put myself in position for his punishment, he’s nuts.
I make it three steps before he catches me by the throat. He lifts me from my feet, cutting off my breath.
“One snap of this delicate neck would end your life,” he warns.
I know it’s a bluff because he sets me back on my feet and restores my breath before I even see stars.
“You’re testing my patience, Valkiriya.” In a series of swift moments, he pins my hands back behind my backthe position that makes my arms screamand secures my wrists with a plastic zip tie. “I like to wrestle with you, but I desire a little more cooperation.”
“We don’t always get what we desire, do we?” I snark.
“Ah, but this time, I think I will.”
I ponder those words as he propels me back to the chair.
I dig my heels in. “No.”
The thought of returning to that particular prison makes me balk, but he pushes me back down and tapes my thighs down to the seat.
“You see? You could be lying in a soft bed right now. Instead, you chose to make things hard.”
I grit my teeth and glare, but he disappears from my sight. I hear him in the kitchen and when he returns, he brings more ice for my head and a glass of water that he presses to my lips. I drink deeply, thirsty from going all morning without anything to drink.
Maykl stands and holds the ice pack to the new bruise on my head. He doesn’t attempt conversation. He doesn’t seem angry or vengeful. Simply watchful.
It’s not until my eyelids start to droop and a deep relaxation washes over my limbs that I realize I’ve been drugged.