I nodded at this response because it seemed like a good plan, although the only person I wanted to see bleed was Romano, and he was definitely pushing my buttons.
I found myself asking, ‘What would Papa do if Romano messed with him?’
We wouldn't be kidnapping his daughter, that's for sure. We'd be kidnapping ugly ass Romano and making him bleed to death. His death would give us more leverage to forge documents and sell all his properties until we'd recovered three times what he owed. But Dimitri's plan seemed to be an idea I was willing to work with.
At first, I heard what seemed to be the opening of the door, and then the unsettled cacophony followed. The voice of a woman echoed throughout the whole house, and I was curious to see her.
As we descended the stairs, I took in her swollen eyes and fragile yet lovely face.
“That's her,” Dimitri revealed.
What I hadn’t expected was a pale-skinned girl with doe-brown eyes glaring up at me instead of shedding terrified tears.Her beauty struck me immediately, but not in the way I would have expected of a politician’s only daughter. She was beautiful in a girl-next-door kind of way; there was something cozy about her, which was funny, considering her petite form.
I chewed on the filter of my cigar before I took a quick inhale.
Her hands were held behind her back with handcuffs, but the slight redness around her jaw told me they had gagged her when they seized her.
“I don't know who sent you to get me, but I'm definitely the wrong person. So, let me go or else the cops will come find you,” she spat.
The shrillness of her tone told me her normal voice wasn’t usually that loud or strong. But that was not the only thing I noticed. I also noticed the uncertainty that danced beneath her voice.
She wasn’t as fearless as she acted.
“The cops? What cops?” I asked, and she stood silent, craning her neck to look at me.
She wasn't as tall as I would have expected. I knew she'd reach my shoulder before I stood close to her. Her wavy chestnut hair fell down her waist, adding another layer of youthfulness and innocence to her appearance. She was dressed like an ordinary student—a plain T-shirt, blue jeans, and Chelsea boots, which I suspected was the most expensive thing on her—another surprise.
“I don't know who the fuck you guys are or why the hell y’all decided to kidnap me, but I swear you're going to pay dearly for this!” she went on, her eyes blazing.
I didn't mind that she spoke carelessly. She obviously had no idea of where she was. But something about her bravado made me want to shock her enough to see what lay underneath.
“You’re in the Bratva’s headquarters, the Manhattan stronghold,” I said calmly.
“Who are you?” she inquired, her tone rising.
Instead of responding immediately, I took two steps forward until I was standing right in front of her. I expected her to attempt taking a step back—again, she didn’t.
I noticed the hitch in her breath as I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and ran my fingers down her cheeks.
“Impressive,” I said to myself, stunned by her courage amidst the fear that made her pulse quicken.
“To answer your question,” I began, my eyes on hers, “My name is Viktor. Viktor Lobanov. The Pakhan of the Russian Bratva here in New York.”
Silence ensued for a short while as I watched a slight frown form on her delicate face.
“Don’t fear, my dear. You might be in the wrong place, but you're definitely not the wrong person. You no longer belong to your father. You belong to me now,” I told her.
She stifled a laugh right before she chuckled in a not-so-startled way.
“Forgive me, but that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Last time I checked, I was not anyone’s property, and we aren't related. So I'm saying this again with a little more dignity than before, let me go the fuck home, and spare yourself the trouble of having to answer to the law.”
Her actions surprised me, and I knew that this was a bad sign. She stood unblinking, and my eyes trailed down her chest, right to the curves that the shirt couldn’t conceal.
“Uncuff her,” I said, watching her sigh in relief.
She turned to face the guard, who gently unlocked the cuffs. And while she turned back, I expected she'd say a thank you. Instead, she pushed me and tried to run. Unfortunately for her, my hand gripped tight on her arm, and I pulled her closeuntil we were only inches apart. Her breath scattered across my face, and I knew she resented me, but all the while, I found her to be one of the most interesting women I'd ever come across.
“Why can't you let me go? What did I do to you?”
