I opened my mouth to give him some cocky remark, but I was rendered speechless when he walked into the huge-ass compound, and everyone—and by everyone, I meant around thirty people—froze and all sound ceased.
The music blasting from the speakers was cut off as Dom placed me on my feet, and immediately I felt the loss of his body heat, but it didn't stop me from stepping back as my eyes frantically studied the place.
Through the haze of my anger, I noticed navy blue couches, billiard tables, men holding pool cues and guns, along with women who served drinks or flipped through magazines, or even rubbed against men. A black marble floor reflected the colorful crystal chandelier hanging dangerously low, considering the height of those men. Curtains were permanently shut, secured to the wall with pointed nails where a few jackets hung.
A bar was in the corner of the room with a wooden counter and a better assortment of alcohol than in some clubs. A bartender with a huge tiger tattoo on his arm stared at me in shock, while a blue-haired young woman with her arms wrapped around his middle from behind had her mouth wide open in disbelief.
Damian, Vitya, Michael, and another man stopped their conversation as they studied us with raised brows. A woman who I assumed to be was Damian’s wife, covered her mouth with a fist, blinking rapidly while leaning on her husband’s chest.
“What’s stopped this party of—” An older man stopped in his tracks as we studied one another. He had gray hair and green eyes with a few wrinkles at the corners, while his buff physique was encased in an expensive three-piece suit. He held a cigar between his fingers and a glass of whiskey. His face had a permanent sad expression, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “She’s here,” he exhaled on a whisper, darting toward me, but I shook my head and he halted.
“Who are you?’ my voice shook, and despite trying to control my temper, I couldn't help but scream those words. Hysterics wouldn't really help me in this situation. “It doesn't matter. Dominic kidnapped me before my wedding.” Turning my attention back to Dom, I poked his chest with each word. “Take me back home!”
He grabbed my finger, wrapping his palm around it, and with equal force, replied, “You are home!”
Loudly, I exhaled a heavy breath. “Are you insane? My home is in Rome!”
“No, it’s here, in Moscow with me.”
Balking a few times, I swallowed loudly, and then asked, “We really are in Russia now?” He drugged me, put me on a plane, and then brought me across the globe to a country I knew nothing about? How could I not see the madness in him? Maybe he had some stalkerish problems, and I fell for them with his hot persona?
“Well, duh,” came from the bar, as the blue-haired girl spoke. “You just realized it?”
Annoyed beyond measure, because the last thing I needed was some kind of lame joke from her, I shot back, “Sorry, Konstanciya. Kind of hard to see outside the tinted car or while I was drugged on the plane.” Just as the words left my mouth, it was as if a lock in my mind clicked open, and the light shone so bright my eyes closed as I struggled to breathe from the power of it.
Memories like vivid images of a movie played in my head, changing one after another in short clips.
Catholic school.
My captivity.
Damian and years of hiding.
Sapphire and Kristina.
My father.
Dominic.
Our first meeting in the park, kiss, making love.
And finally what Alfonso did to me.
“He raped and chopped up an innocent girl, barely sixteen, in front of my eyes.” My whisper was the only sound in the room, but I felt a change in the atmosphere the minute the words left my lips. “Right before he gave permission for his guards to beat me up. Then he jumped in to finish the job.” Despite the memories coming back, I still couldn't recall what exactly he did to me. Maybe my traumatized mind tried to protect me from it, but I would have preferred to know. Tears slid down my cheeks as sobs shook my body, but I had to let it out. “They must have placed me in some car, because I woke up to it burning and—” Exhaling heavily, I tried to control my emotions but failed, because who could possibly hold onto control in such a situation? “The fire licked my skin. The only thing on my mind was you.” My eyes finally travelled up to clash with Dominic’s, whose held agony and pain, his hands clenching into fists.
My sexy Russian. Tears continued to fall, as I said, “The doctors claimed my mind was blocking something, that maybe it didn't want the memories back so it could protect me. Instead, I ended up in a family who claimed me as theirs, and I almost married another man.” Covering my mouth with my palms, I shook my head back and forth, not quite believing this.
Why would this happen to me? Did I deserve it? What the hell did I ever do wrong in this world? First, Eric, and then Alfonso, and only God knew who stood behind him. Where was the fairness like they taught us in Catholic school? Be good, and good would come your way? What the hell did I do wrong?
Sinking to my knees, I screamed and sobbed at the same time, holding my head in my hands as the devastation of how evil people had ruined my life, playing their games with me as if I was a doll. My eyelids became too heavy for me, dizziness overwhelmed me, and I swayed to the side. I would have hit my head if a strong set of hands hadn’t picked me up, and that was the last thing I remembered before darkness took me.
Dominic
“One more.” My order was met with a worried look, but Kostya complied and gave me another shot of vodka. I finished it in one gulp like the last one, winced, and bit the tomato next to me to sweeten the taste. Clicking my fingers, I waited for another one, when a voice from behind me spoke.
“Getting shit-faced won’t help her in this situation.” Radmir sat next to me on a stool, and immediately, Kostya had a whiskey ready for him.
Raising my brow, I pointed out, “Funny you are saying this to me, considering you aren't a saint either.”
