Tarnished Tyrant - A Mafia Romance

Chapter 61 Episode 61

I scramble up and away from him. “It’s just been a long timesince I’ve eaten. I’m fine.”

Nikolai reaches past me to snag a protein bar from the cabinetand shoves it into my hand. “Eat,” he commands.

I roll my eyes, but even I know that spiting him on this one isstupid. I force my hands to be as steady as possible as I peelopen the wrapper. The first bite tastes like chalk. The secondtastes like ashes. Neither one is easy to swallow. He watchesme the whole time, hardly blinking.

“You can stop hovering. I’m fine.”

“No, I cant. And no, you aren’t.”

I drop the half-eaten bar onto the countertop. “So what?You’re just going to linger here? Keep an eye on me? I don’tthink so. You have a life to get back to. A Bratva to run,remember? You can’t hang out here and babysit. This isn’tIceland. That trip is over. This is real life.”

I bark out a vicious laugh. “Hell no, it wasn’t. It was a big, fatlie. And you acting like you can be here with me? That’s a lie,too. I’m not falling for it. You can’t stay here. You’re notwelcome.”

The dizziness from a moment ago is returning. My chest isheaving, my breathing coming in huge, heavy gasps. It’s hardto catch my breath, and I don’t know why.

“Just… just leave,” I plead hoarsely. “Go.”

He responds by placing his palm over my heart. “Breathe,Belle.”

I try to shrug him off, but he refuses to budge.

“Relax,” he says. “You’re going to have a panic attack.Breathe.”

I follow his prompts, inhaling and exhaling when he says,staring into his gray eyes the entire time. And when my racingheart has finally calmed and my lungs don’t feel likeoverinflated balloons in my chest, I back away.

I groan. “Why not? I’m sure your wife will give you plenty ofkids. You don’t have to stick around for this one. We’ll be finewithout you.”

Flashes of what my life will look like flood my mindunbidden. Caring for Elise and an infant when I can barelytake care of myself. Scrapping for every dollar, every bite offood.

But I just barely managed to stave off a panic attack. I can’tinvite another one in now. I shove the thoughts away as best Ican, compartmentalizing them for later when I’m alone.

“Whatever weird sense of responsibility you seem to befeeling, you’re free,” I tell him. “I absolve you. Go back andforget about us. I’ll be—”

Suddenly, Nikolai is surrounding me. His arms around me, hisface right up in mine.

And I know instinctively—a sick but undeniable truth—that ifhe kissed me now, I’d give in. If he wanted to fill the ache I’vehad for the last six weeks, I’d let him.

I wish that wasn’t true. But some things can’t be reasonedwith.

“Don’t you dare say you’re f*****g fine again, Belle,” hesnarls protectively. “Don’t you dare.”

“Let me go,” I protest weakly.

“Again and again, you refuse to act in your own best interest,”he sighs. “I can’t trust you to do what’s right. So if you won’t,then I will. Regardless of what you think.”

I frown. “What does that—”

Before I can even get the question out, my front door opens. Adour, middle-aged man with a mustache comes into the room.He is wearing all black and carrying a syringe in his hands.

“Nikolai,” I manage before my throat starts to constrict withpanic.

“I told you I’d take care of you, Belle. Right now, this is whatthat looks like.”

The man walks into the kitchen. I try to jerk away, butNikolai’s hold on me is too strong. I don’t stand a chance.

The man lifts the syringe. I open my mouth to scream, butNikolai captures my lips with his.

His kiss is firm but gentle, and for a few blissful seconds, Isink into the familiarity of his body against mine. I’ve missedit. I’ve needed it.

Then I feel the prick in my arm.

“Why?” I mumble into his open mouth. But my eyes arealready dropping closed.

I feel a huge, warm hand at the back of my neck.

I feel the drop of blood leaking out onto the crook of myelbow.

And then I feel nothing.

Shivers move up and down my limbs, a tingling that seems toradiate out from my bones. But I can’t move. When I was alittle girl, I used to get sleep paralysis like this. I’d wake upwithout waking up, and I always knew when it was happeningbecause I was so damn cold.

So I’m just sleeping, that’s all. That’s fine. It would makesense of the crazy dream I had. Of Roger showing up atTony’s, followed by Nikolai. Of Nikolai driving me home, thesyringe, a baby.

It was all a dream.

Actually, on second thought: me, pregnant with Nikolai’sbaby?

Scratch that, it was all a nightmare.

Just like when I was little, I start to wake up bit by bit. Theparalysis fades away. Sound comes back first—air rushingpast, distant horns, the crackle of an air conditioner.

Then motion. I twitch a finger and touch cool leather at myside.

“Hello?” a male voice calls from somewhere in front of me.“You finally alive back there?”

I pry my eyes open, blinking against the deluge of sunlight.

“That’s an affirmative, she is alive. Welcome back,” the sameman says, a twinkle of a laugh on the edge of his voice.

When my vision finally resolves, I realize I’m in the backseatof a car. The man talking to me is driving. I’m alone. No signof Nikolai or the person who injected me with… What the hellwas I injected with? I try to ask, but the words come outjumbled.

“You’re still coming off the sedative,” the man explains whenhe sees my confusion in the rearview mirror. “Nikolai told meto tell you to relax. You’re safe.”

Easy for him to say! I try to scream. In reality, it sounds morelike, “Ease-fhim-seh.”

We pull to a stop at an intersection and the man turns toscrutinize me. I finally recognize him, from the night I felldown the stairs at Zhukova Incorporated. He was the manNikolai was talking to in his office.

“Arslan,” he says by way of introduction, waggling his fingersin a saucy little wave. “Considering all the s**t you’ve put myboss through, I’m surprised we haven’t officially met yet.”

I clear my throat and run my tongue over my lips before I tryto speak again. My lips are slightly more cooperative this time.“All the s**t I put him through?” I rasp. “More like the shitthat he’s…”

Arslan smirks. “You’ve been awake two minutes and you’realready arguing. No wonder he had to drug you.”

“He didn’t need to drug me! He just needed to… to leave mealone. What the hell is going on?” I claw at the seatbelt acrossmy chest, suddenly very eager to be free of anythingrestraining me.

“I’d leave that on if I was you. Traffic in the city is a b***h, andI’m trying to keep to the schedule. You’re still drowsy.”

Arslan grins. “Welcome back to the Big Apple, baby.”

I look out the window. Steel buildings pressing close to thestreet. Hordes of people whisking along the sidewalks. I see asubway station entrance and feel my chest constrict.

“How did I—? Where is—? What did he—?” All of thequestions fizzle out before I can finish them.

“s**t,” Arslan says, “I’m not good at this. Bad bedsidemanner, I’ve been told. More than once. But, um, let’s see,start with the basics… You’re fine, okay? I’m not going to hurtyou. No one is. You’re here because Nikolai was concerned.”

I’m here. In New York City. I’m here. And where is…?

“My sister,” I gasp. “Where is Elise?”

“In another car. She’s fine, too. But Nikolai didn’t want her tosee you all zonked. He wanted to give you a chance to wakeup and calm down.”

Rage ripples through me. “He wants me to calm down? Afterhe kidnapped me? Is he f*****g delusional?”

“What can I say? He’s a charmer.” Arslan chuckles, butnothing about this is funny.

“What does he plan to do with me? Lock me up because Iwouldn’t go to a doctor?”

He glances back at me in the rearview as we resume driving.“You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

An icy dread slips down my back. The last time I was here, Ihad some level of protection. An employer, coworkers, etcetera. If I disappear now, Tony won’t so much as call my cellto see why I missed a shift. He’ll replace me in two minutesflat and keep on moving. I can practically hear him in my headnow: Dead bartenders are bad for business.

“Will he really lock me up?”

Arslan shrugs. “Not if you cooperate. But he really is worriedabout you.”

I snort. “Yeah, right. If he was worried, he wouldn’t havedrugged me.”

“Believe me, I know Nikolai. Drugging you is actually a goodsign. It’s a lot better than being dead, don’t you think? That’swhat happens to people he doesn’t care about.”