Page 72 of Seductive Sadist
“My father was responsible for sending Luka to prison years ago. He was an enemy of the Malikov family. Once Luka was released, he kidnapped me as part of a revenge plot. I was to marry his twin brother, Dima.”
“I remember when Dima and his father were killed.” I take another bite of the brownie.
Natasha nods. “After that, things fell apart. Luka took over as head of the family and we fell in love.” She lets out a chuckle. “I know, it sounds so weird.”
“Stockholm Syndrome?” I force a smile and take a sip of water.
“It was more that he put everything on the line for me. I was the enemy because of what my father did, but he ended up saving me. Like you, I was a victim. But he destroyed the threats against me.”
“He put you first. He chose you.”
“Yes.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Zak hasn’t had an easy time over the past few years. I wasn’t around when his football career ended, but I know from Luka how hard he took it. It was pretty soul-crushing from what I heard.”
“He was amazing. So incredibly talented.” It hurts to admit it because it just dredges up all the anger and pain I associate with that time in my life, but I loved to watch him play. He was a god on that field. He commanded the entire game.
“I also know how badly he wants to be respected by his family. He’ll do anything to get it.”
“Including ruining my life,” I grumble, toying with the corner of a paper napkin.
“I know it feels that way, but I see things.” Natasha leans closer and I get a whiff of something sugary sweet. “I also know from Nik that he’s never seen Zak so inside out over a girl before. You guys had a history, right? Didn’t you date awhile back?”
I almost choke on the last bite of brownie. “You could say that.”
“Kidnapping you from your wedding? The whole marriage thing he came up with?” Her lips curl upward and her aqua eyes glimmer. “That was all him. He may have claimed to use you as a way of getting close, but I think there was a lot more to it than just getting respect. I think it had everything to do with you.” She shrugs. “I’m not usually wrong about this stuff.”
A door opens down the hall and the guys trudge into the kitchen. Zak comes in last, his expression as deflated as a week-old helium balloon. My stomach clenches. He looks like a guy who’s about to lose his best friend.
Or the girl he claims to love.
My eyes find his and suddenly, I wish I hadn’t eaten that brownie because the look he gives me makes my stomach threaten to revolt right here in the kitchen. I gulp down the rest of my water and stand up. The chair legs scrape against the floor, but nobody looks over at me. They’re too busy scarfing down treats to give a damn about ruining an innocent person’s life.
A scream catches in the back of my throat, tangled with the latent sob that’s been begging to explode.
I look down at Natasha. “You’re really sweet and understanding. I appreciate you talking to me.” Then I raise my eyes to the rest of them, moving my gaze over each face until it lands on Zak. “But the rest of you are total and complete assholes. You claim lives to get what you want, and then you ruin them with no regard for anyone but yourselves. I didn’t ask to be a victim, and I sure as hell won’t live like one.”
With my one good fist clenched, I push past the group, giving Nik a hard shove as I stalk toward the front door. The air in here is toxic and I can’t breathe it anymore. My heart thrashes in my chest, my lungs squeezed tight like they’re being choked by a thick rope. Beads of sweat pop up on my skin, my flimsy t-shirt sticking to me.
I clutch the top of the handrail and jog down the steps, taking them two at a time and nearly breaking my neck in the process. Staring into the grass, I shudder and shake. The thought of running empowers me, but the reality of the unknown scares the living shit out of me. I say I want my independence, but am I strong enough to grab it?
A shiver scuttles down my back. Reality is out there, beyond the grasses and trees. My future. My own legacy.
It’s there if I want it badly enough.
My leg muscles tense and tighten, apprehension paralyzing me. I take a few steps, my slippers digging into the gravel as I storm toward the cars.
“Stop.” I gasp and stumble backward into Zak with a yelp, my face smashing into his chest.
His face is a twisted mask of fury and fire. “I am not my brothers,” he growls, tugging me toward a nondescript black sedan. He clicks the alarm, opens the passenger side door, and shoves me inside before jumping into the driver’s seat.
The engine roars under his heavy foot, the car skidding on the gravel as he swings the steering wheel in the direction of the private road. The noxious scent of searing rubber assaults my nostrils.
I pull on my seat belt, trying to avoid my injured shoulder. I snap it in and say a silent prayer to get wherever we’re going safely as he speeds down the road.
“You’re driving like a lunatic.” I can barely squeeze out the words because my heart has lodged itself in my throat. “Slow the fuck down.”