TAMING THE BEAST

CHAPTER THREE: "RULES, RULES, AND MORE RULES"

KATYA

The rays of golden sunlight falling on my face were beautiful.

A pleasurable growl escaped my lips as my hands rubbed against the impossibly soft clouds beneath me. Wait... Did I die and go to heaven? I thought that bastard was going to spare me. Did he turn around and shoot me in the head?

My eyes fluttered open in a panic.

It took a few moments to get adjusted to the intricate designs etched into the high ceiling. It looked like a pictorial representation of the biblical story where the sheep were separated from the goats. Why on earth would anyone have that carved into their ceiling?

“You think you’re Sleeping Beauty?”

I jumped at the familiar, throaty growl, meeting a pair of steely grey eyes staring down at me. My throat instantly went dry. He was standing at the foot of the massive bed, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his well-tailored trousers.

This was the first bad guy I'd ever met who never appeared disheveled. From his short black hair neatly combed back, to his crisp, well-starched shirt folded precisely at the sleeves, to his highly polished black oxfords... he looked infuriatingly gorgeous. Well, except for the permanent scowl on his brick wall of a face.

“What the hell, gangster?” I snapped, dragging the heavy duvet up to cover my bandeau.

“Get to work.” He jutted his right arm at me.

I scoffed. “What? Right now?”

He raised a dark brow, pushing his arm out even further. f*****g asshole. I hadn't even gotten to brush my teeth yet. Dragging my grumpy ass out of the bed, I quickly twisted my hair up into a messy bun.

So much for being in heaven.

He settled onto a leather sofa that I only just realized existed beside the bed.

“I thought I warned you not to go play Batman…” I muttered, stepping over to him.

“Spider-Man...”

“I know what I said,” I snapped, “The point is not to stress the arm, and you’re doing the exact opposite. Seems like you want to end up with an amputated limb after all.”

In a flash, his hand shot out and grabbed my jaw, forcing my eyes to meet his. I could feel the warmth from his fingers seep into my skin. “What did I tell you about shutting that mouth?”

His words were low, slow, and rolled over his tongue so heavily that I found myself staring at his plump lips just to make them out. Heat flushed over my neck in humiliation.

Get a grip, Katya.

“Fine, I’ll be quiet!” I wrestled my face out of his iron grip. “It’s a waste of time talking to you anyway. You hardly even listen.”

Yanking his arm a little on purpose, I began inspecting the progress of the wound. It looked like it would heal quite nicely, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing that.

His teeth clenched as I unwrapped the old bandages. Up close, I noticed intricate designs of puzzle pieces tattooed across his lower arm, some of them engraved with Roman numerals.

They made me remember the scary tat I saw on the other arm that night. Did these tattoos stand for something, or was he just into mysterious aesthetics?

“Hell of a design you have here,” I muttered but he completely ignored me.

He hissed when I swabbed the raw skin with a saline lavage. “Give me something for the pain.”

“What are you, a drug addict? You’re already on sleeping meds, antibiotics, and tetanus shots.”

His eyes narrowed. “How do you know about the sleeping tabs?”

I shrugged, and for the first time in my life, I actually kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d peeked into his cupboards earlier to see if there were skeletons.

Two sharp raps hit the door before Alexei stepped into the room. “Pakhan. The men are ready.”

“I need a minute.”

Alexei gave a single, tight nod and walked back out, closing the door behind him.

“I’m going to apply some Vaseline, make sure you wash your hands and reapply a thin layer if you notice it drying out.”

He scowled at me and slid his hands back into his pockets, his spine straight as an arrow as he stood up to his full height. Damn, the motherfucker was huge. If it weren't for that devastatingly handsome face, he could easily pass for a concrete wall.

“So, when do I get to go back home?” I asked, deliberately stepping up onto the mattress so I could stand eye-to-eye with him.

“There is no going back home.”

My frame racked with laughter, then stopped. He didn’t seem amused. “What?”

“You’ll be under twenty-four-hour surveillance the moment you step outside this room. You cannot make contact with anyone from the outside world. You do not talk to the men here…”

“Are you insane? That’s literally turning me into a robot!”

“...You come down for breakfast at seven AM, else you starve,” he drove right over my words.

I folded my arms across my chest. “And how do I get to the mall if I’m not allowed outside, genius?” My heartbeat tripled when he made eye contact. s**t this guy could snap my neck if I irritated him further.

“Mall’s in the building.”

My mouth dropped. “You have a mall inside your house?” He glanced at his wristwatch, exhaling impatiently.

I shook my head, reality sinking in. “So you’re serious? I’m completely locked in?”

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”

“I have a life, you know! My friends and family are going to be looking for me!”

“You don’t have family,” he said, his low voice entirely devoid of emotion. “And your friend, Sofiya, hasn’t asked after you at all.”

The cold words hit like a physical blow. Tears pooled hot in my eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“You owe me a life debt, remember? You are paying it by treating my men and me. The day you stop being useful is the day your head leaves your neck.” My lashes blinked furiously in disbelief. I thought I’d escaped the death sentence.

“Oh, f**k you, motherfucker!” I yelled as he walked away.

He whipped around so fast our noses nearly collided. His hand shot out, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me flush against him. His hot breath sent an involuntary shiver straight down my spine.

“Careful, Brazilian cat,” he hissed, his eyes darkening with a dangerous intensity. “You couldn’t have forgotten the last time I f****d you.”

My breath hitched. We hadn’t spoken about that night since it happened. It had almost felt like nothing ever happened.

“And get some damn clothes on,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to my cleavage before he released me. “This isn’t a strip club.”