“You’re still young. Your father won’t marry you off when you’re just seventeen.”
“Going on eighteen. And does it really matter if he does it now or a few years from now?”
“Oh, Anni. Is that why you were hell-bent on going to college? Did you think you only had a few years before your freedom was confiscated?”
“Isn’t that the case?”
“Adrian would never make you marry someone against your will. Do you have that little faith in your papa?”
“I have little faith in his world. Our world. Women are just a flashy accessory and a currency for the highest bidder. I’m aware that I’m expected to strengthen the Bratva’s alliances with anyone they deem worthy.”
“They’d have to kill me before I’d let them use you as a pawn.”
“Thanks, Mom. But I don’t want to be the reason behind our family’s misfortune. When the Pakhan orders Papa to marry me off to one of the other leader’s sons or into one of the crime organizations, the only thing he can do is agree.”
“He won’t.”
“Then he’ll just be labeled a traitor and be driven out.”
“Anni…”
“It’s okay, Mom. I made peace with this fate a long time ago. Well, not really peace. Understanding, I guess.”
“No, it’s not okay.” She inches closer to the phone, her expression serious. “Yes, the world we live in is brutal, but that doesn’t mean your papa and I won’t stand up for you. Besides, if you happen to fall in love, who would dare make you marry a stranger instead?”
My lips part.
That’s it.
How come I’ve never thought about this before? Well, I have, but I didn’t think it’d make a difference.
That is, until Mom just confirmed it.
Papa wouldn’t make me marry anyone against my will, but he’ll be more convinced if I actually have a boyfriend.
I’ve never had one before. Sure, I’ve flirted and made as many friends as possible, but I’ve never made it official. That would’ve meant putting the poor boy in direct conflict with Papa, Jeremy, and their equally ruthless guards.
Just thinking about the scowly face of Kolya, Papa’s senior guard, makes me shiver. He’d rip the poor guy to pieces before he could even introduce himself to Papa.
Yikes.
But if it means I’d get out of my predestined cruel fate, then maybe it’s worth a try.
“Anni? Are you still with me?” Mom’s voice brings me out of my thoughts.
“Uh, yeah. What’s up?”
“Don’t tell your papa what you just told me or he’ll be upset.”
“I will be upset about what?”
Mom’s face brightens with a wide grin as he comes up behind her, leans down, and kisses the top of her head.
Swoon.
I want a man like Papa. Yeah. He’s mean to everyone and you really don’t want to meet him in a dark alley—or even in broad daylight—but he’s always treated Mom like a queen.
The mecca of his world.
The person who makes his darkness go away.
He strokes her cheek. “I’ve been looking for you, Lenochka.”
“I was only gone for half an hour.”
“Still too much time.”
“Uh, hello? I’m right here, you guys. Thanks for noticing.”
Papa finally looks at the phone Mom is holding and smiles. Or as much as it could be called a smile for a badass mafia leader.
Don’t care what anyone says. Those suckers in the New York Bratva would all be done for if it weren’t for Papa’s strategic brain.
“Anoushka, isn’t it late there?”
“No, and you’re not dismissing me for alone time with Mom, Papa. Seriously, I’m wounded.”
“You’re being dramatic. You’ve been talking to her for half an hour.”
“But, Papa!”
“Night, Anoushka. We love you.”
He takes the phone from Mom’s hand and she laughs, then squeals as the line is cut off.
Great.Now, I know what my parents are doing for the night.
I flop against my bed and stare at the glittering purple objects hanging from the ceiling.
My mind fills with all sorts of thoughts. The first is that I need to find a way out of my fate.
Okay, maybe that’s not the first thing, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Creighton’s words from yesterday.
Violent tendencies.
Deviant tastes.
I can still feel his deep voice against my ear and the furious shiver that overtook me right afterward.
That was definitely not what I expected someone like Creighton to say. He could’ve been lying, but he doesn’t have a reason to.
Besides, he’s direct to a fault.
I was so stunned that I only snapped out of it after he took the lunch I made and strolled out of the gazebo.
In truth, I’m still stunned.
That was obviously his warning to make me stay away, so why the hell am I even more intrigued with him now?
Just what does a twenty-year-old consider deviant and twisted?
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
4
CREIGHTON
There’s no such thing as being too young to remember.
I was three years old when my life was turned upside down. Blood splattered, monsters’ fangs showed, and I was caught between them, having the sole destiny to be crushed to death.
I was three years old, and I still remember every vicious word, every hateful stare and can still hear the gurgle of life leaving a body. I still have nightmares about a body hanging from the ceiling and looking at me with unblinking, bulging eyes.
I haven’t been the same since.
Yes, I was adopted by a loving yet unconventional family and have the best parents alive, but that never managed to make me forget the past.
Thing is, some images just can’t be erased.
Some images bleed into my subconscious and devour me from the inside out. Every night.
Every day.
Every second.
It’s not just a distant memory; it’s part of who I am.
I’ve ignored it all my life, tried to cope with it, to come to terms with the past, and to blend myself into my current life.
I’ve truly tried. My honest attempts have included doing everything by the book, following the therapist’s coping mechanisms, and learning to lead a normal life.
But I’m not normal.
And coping is never enough. And neither is convincing myself that time will make it better.
Seventeen years later and the images are still as vivid as back then, with their gruesome details and those bulging fucking eyes.
I learned to stop asking my parents about the past—not only do they avoid the subject like the plague, but Mum also gets this sad look in her eyes. The one where it feels as if I’m ripping her chest open and punching her fragile heart.
Luckily, I’m old enough now to pull the strings on my own.
Even if it means abandoning everything I’ve known for the seventeen years since the massacre.
That’s what I’ve always called it in my head, even though only two people died. Make that three—including the three-year-old version of me.
He suffered the most, despite the fact that death chose to exempt him.
The time has come to finally do something about those hideous memories.
In the past, I couldn’t be proactive due to living under my parents’ roof and being under their constant scrutiny.
However, I’m at university now and I have enough freedom to seek the truth. The only barrier is the personification of my parents’ hawk eyes—my annoying older brother, Eli.
As circumstances would have it, I know exactly the information to feed him so he’ll remain preoccupied and leave me the fuck alone.
Because something changed recently.
I got a piece of information that flipped my perspective upside down.
It’s not anything groundbreaking, but it’s the tip of the iceberg—a little clue that will allow me to dig deeper.
This time, I won’t stop until I unveil the whole truth.
“The arson didn’t do much damage. I’m a little disappointed.”
I slide my hand from my face to stare up at my cousin—second cousin—who’s perched over my bed.
Landon is three years older than me and has the looks of a refined prince and the character of the devil himself.
Or more like Lucifer—the one who controls demons and every obscure creature.
His brown hair falls in a chaotic mess over his forehead, highlighting angular features that are no different from the stones he’s obsessed with sculpting. He’s even doing an art master’s degree to be able to produce more stones that people weirdly call masterpieces while labeling him a genius.
Anarchist would fit him better.
Since I’m trying to sleep, I turn on my side and close my eyes again.
A creak comes from the chair beside the bed, indicating that Landon chose to stay, not caring about my clear ‘Fuck off.’
“It could’ve been much better. What a loss of potential.”
“And you could’ve left so I can sleep.”
Landon pffts, a light chuckle spilling from him before he kicks my back. “Wake up. There are better things to do than sleep.”
“Doubt it.”
“What if I say I have the second piece of the puzzle for you?”
My eyes open and I slowly turn around.
Landon grins, knowing full well he’s got me exactly where he wants me. “Happy to have your attention, baby cousin. Now, let’s go.”
Staring at him harshly, I don’t move, and he rolls his eyes dramatically. “Your habit of trying to communicate with your eyes is annoying as fuck. Not all people are good with that language and they could—and will—misunderstand you. Lucky for you, I’m proficient in all languages. To answer your less-than-subtle demand, no. There will be no piece of the puzzle for you unless I get something in return. That was the deal, remember?”
So this is the downside behind my master plan of collecting information about my past. Somehow, Landon got wind of that and he’s using it to make me do his bidding.
He tried to ask nicely at the beginning, I’ll give him that, but those of us with the King last name just don’t do things nicely.
We need to be kicked, provoked, and even threatened so that we’re forced to do anything.
And that’s exactly what Landon has done to have me on his chessboard.
I sit up, throwing my weight against the metal bedpost. “What do you want? Another fire?”
“Nah, that was fun on the first try, but their security has gotten better now. Let’s give them some time to come to terms with the change, and just when their guard is down… Boom. We strike again.”
“Then why are you bothering me now?”
“Don’t be a little shit.” He opens my wardrobe, flings out a hoodie from all the similar ones and throws it in my direction. “We’re out to have fun.”
“No.”
“Or you can model for me? I’ll make a masterpiece out of your features.”
“Definitely not.”
“We’re going out then. Only when we’re done will I tell you what the next step is.”
I grab the piece of clothing and step past him. “You must be so lonely if you want to spend time with me.”
He laughs, the sound genuinely amused. “Maybe. Your peaceful silence is hard to find in this loud world.”
I lift a shoulder and pull on the hoodie. Landon and his twin brother, Brandon, are probably the only two who seek me out because of my silence. Everyone else just wants me to talk—not them.
They’re tolerable, but only separately. They become annoying dicks in each other’s company.
After I’m dressed, we leave my room and start down the hall. Elegant wallpaper extends for as far as the eye can see, giving the place a classical vibe.
We live in an off-campus mansion that Landon also uses as the compound for his club, the Elites.
A club that he has wanted me to be part of since I enrolled in REU, but I’ve refused his invitation every time.
I pledge loyalty to no one. Not even to myself.
We drive away from the mansion, or more like Landon does in his show-off one-of-a-kind McLaren. I spend the whole ride sleeping.
The opening of the door hauls me out of a light sleep. A man dressed in formal wear inclines his head in my direction. “Welcome back, sir.”
I step out and cast a look at my cousin, who’s already stepping onto the cobbled street. An easy expression is written all over his face, but it’s just a camouflage for his twisted insides.
Only a few lights adorn the hidden alley that’s situated in the least populated part of the island.