Eagle Elite Volume II, page 40
Apparently, the conversation was closed.
“Eat something,” he urged, setting his wine glass down on the granite table. “My offices, tomorrow morning, eight o’clock, remember it’s the thirty-second floor.”
“Right.”
“Wear black.”
I gritted my teeth. “Not like you gave me lots of choices in that closet anyway.”
His smile was back full force. “You get choices when you prove I can trust you with them.”
“You don’t think I’m trustworthy?”
“Your father wasn’t.”
“I’m not my father.”
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Prove it.”
And that was the end of the conversation.
He walked to the door and slammed it behind him, leaving me more confused than before, which was pretty damn confused, all things considered. I decided it wasn’t worth the headache—he wasn’t worth the headache. I had exactly three hundred and sixty-four more days of hell then I could go back to normal… back to a time when I didn’t know Nikolai Blazik.
Back to a time when I actually knew myself.
CHAPTER TEN
The Pier Killer is believed to be looking during the day, attacking at dusk. —The Seattle Tribune
Nikolai
The woman had no idea what she was doing. It would be so easy to break her—again.
I needed her strong.
And I gave her rules in order to keep things within my control. The worst part was that she saw me as the monster when really in this scenario? I was as close to a white knight as she was going to get.
The elevator dipped with a groan then opened on the floor just below Maya’s. When the doors slid apart, the scent of bleach burned my nostrils. It was a familiar smell, one that held memories, heartache, shame—so many emotions that I found myself wanting to hold my breath and close my eyes—but it hadn’t worked all those times before, it certainly wouldn’t work now.
The walk to my door felt lonely.
And being lonely wasn’t a feeling I was accustomed to. I’d always had my work, I’d had my goals, one of which was most likely damning me to hell at this very moment, but I’d like to think she was one I’d accomplished beautifully.
I’d saved her.
She just wasn’t aware that her prison—was her freedom.
I opened the door leading into my penthouse apartment and walked numbly into the kitchen.
A glass of already poured Canadian whiskey was sitting in a glass on the table with the newspaper next to it.
I had to hand it to her—Jac never missed an evening, even if she was out doing what she did best—she always took care of me.
I never wanted for anything where she was concerned.
Yet a part of me wondered if she used that as a way to keep herself firmly attached to my life—where there was no room for any other female, regardless of how harmless she might be.
“What exactly… are you doing, Nikolai?”
Jac’s voice dripped with disapproval.
“Drinking,” I answered in a clipped tone. “And you?”
“The same.” She chuckled. “Join me.”
I knew where she would be. Sitting at the piano, drink in hand, eyes blurry with emotion.
Grabbing my glass, I made my way over to her and sat quietly, my fingers grazing the ivory keys just briefly before reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Hard evening?”
The hand I wasn’t holding lifted the glass to her lips—it shook violently. “When are they not hard?”
“True.”
“I’m not sure about her.”
And there it was.
“You don’t have to be sure about her. What she does for me has nothing to do with you and the Family.”
“You like her.” Jac licked her ruby red lips and set her drink down. “That makes her different.”
“I’m protecting her. There’s a difference.”
“And when protecting turns into something more?” She tilted her head and gave a slight smirk, the way the moonlight reflected across her features cast a pale glow, aging her, reminding me yet again how frail she really was. “What then?”
“Then I set her free.”
Jac leaned her head back and laughed, and the sound chilled me to the bone. “When have you ever been good at setting your favorite things free? Remember that bird when you were small? You named him Fred and refused to let him out of his cage, even when we told you it was safe to let him fly around the house.”
I shook my head at the memory. I’d been so fearful he’d fly away that my fear eventually killed him—or so I believed. He’d never fully matured and died at a young age because of it.
“She isn’t a bird,” I finally whispered. “She’s a person.”
“Oh.” Jac patted my hand. “So now you actually see people as real people, not your own person version of Operation?”
Something was off with Jac tonight. I narrowed my eyes. “That’s enough.”
Her smile fell, replaced by what looked like anger, before she shrugged and stood. “We’re both tired, and the night still isn’t finished for me I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps it should be.” I never told Jac what to do, it wasn’t my place, but I knew her lifestyle wore on her—the secret of it wore on us both.
“I have a legacy to continue,” she said in a distant voice. “Perhaps you should start thinking about how you’ll continue yours… once I’m gone.”
“You’re not dying.” I rolled my eyes and kissed her hand.
“Not yet.” She pulled her hand back and reached for her jacket. “But I will be gone and soon. What will you do then, Nikolai?”
The question had my heart ramming against my chest. I didn’t know. I still hadn’t made my choice. I still wasn’t sure how I could fulfill my family’s legacy while still keeping my own sanity intact. It seemed I was the sole heir that saw a difference between right and wrong, which was really sick when I thought about it. If I was the moral compass, what hope did my family really have to begin with? I shuddered inwardly.
“The choice will happen.” Jac gave a knowing nod. “And sooner than you think. Maybe a distraction is good.” She pointed toward the ceiling. “But something tells me she’s hands off, am I right?”
“They always are.” I hired nursing students for three months tops, paid them, swore them to secrecy, and let them go. Maya wasn’t a nursing student, and I hadn’t hired her for the reasons I’d hired all the others. It was simply convenient that I could kill two birds with one stone.
“But she’s different, because you wish it wasn’t the case.”
“Goodnight, Jac.” I ignored her barb even though it still managed to sneak in between my ribs, hitting its mark quite well.
Dismissed, she gave a quick nod and walked toward the door. “Careful Nikolai, I’ve never lost you to something as silly as emotion before—and your colors, they’re showing.”
“I bleed like everyone else.”
Jac held open the door and called back. “More’s the pity.”
Once silence once again reigned in my apartment, I moved to my couch and looked around my apartment.
It was decorated in deep purples and blacks. I had a fascination with dark colors, maybe because it was the only thing that brought me comfort, knowing that the outside was just as dark as my insides.
It was the only peace I seemed to find.
White reminded me of what I didn’t have.
Purity, innocence, and a bright-eyed Russian princess who’d stop at nothing to tempt me beyond my abilities.
Her room was white for a reason.
It was a reminder.
Thou shall not touch.
Because if I did—she wouldn’t live past the first caress.
I refused to tempt fate twice.
And this time.
It would be my fault.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Police are still investigating the slew of murders taking place down in Pikes Market. Another woman’s body was found, her reproductive organs stripped from her body and on her face a hollow smile. Women are strongly encouraged to stay indoors at night. —The Seattle Tribune
Maya
Sleep didn’t come—though I prayed and begged for it every hour I woke up and saw the alarm clock glaring back at me.
My head hurt.
My brain hurt.
And after again ransacking the apartment for any sort of way to either escape or put a giant SOS on the window… I fell into a pit of despair. Because I knew, that in the end, I’d signed a contract, my dad had sold me. I didn’t really have a leg to stand on.
Plus, just like Nikolai said, who would actually believe me? They’d probably think I’d gone insane.
With a groan, I flipped over on my side and finally managed to get out of bed. Nikolai said to report to work at eight, wearing black. I wasn’t sure if work meant in his offices or the one downtown, but I figured asking questions would just get him upset all over again.
He wasn’t what I had expected.
Sure, he was gorgeous, entitled, controlling, but every single thing that came out of his mouth was guarded. A part of me—the stupid part—was curious, while the rest of me wanted to push him off the highest balcony I could find.
The shower did wonders for my attitude, and when I went back into the closet to find an outfit, I admitted that he’d actually picked out some pretty ridiculously cool clothes for me. I settled on a black Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress with some black heels and grabbed a gold chain from the nearby dresser.
I grabbed a wool coat, just in case it rained and I was somehow given leave to go outside for a break, and then went into the kitchen.
And froze.
“How was your evening?” Nikolai asked, scrambling eggs over the stove like it was the most natural thing in the world, for him to make me breakfast in my kitchen, another not-so-subtle reminder that he could enter and exit my life at will. Even my private space was not truly mine. I imagined it would never be, as long as he was in my life.
“Horrible,” I said honestly. “And I hate eggs.”
“Don’t lie.”
That was it. Just a “don’t lie,” and he continued tossing in chopped up peppers and cheese.
With a huff I sat on the bar stool and watched his muscles flex beneath his shirt as he moved around the kitchen. He looked good there, comfortable, not as haunted as he normally looked.
I knew I was being shameless in watching him, but it was impossible not to, the man was so beautiful that it was mentally frustrating.
Why did the beautiful ones have to be sociopaths?
His rich chocolate hair curled behind his ears, dark eyes focused on the food in front of him and his muscled body stretched and strained against the tight pale blue pinstripe shirt.
“Why are you here?” I asked, “Wasn’t I supposed to meet you?”
“Got hungry.” He shrugged.
“And every Starbucks within the vicinity was closed?” My eyebrows arched.
He chuckled.
A laugh escaped from between his lips.
I clenched my teeth together only because it was a nice laugh, warm like honey. Damn him.
“No.” He finally turned around, smile still in place. “I actually was thinking it would be good for us to have a chat before work.”
“A chat, huh?” I fidgeted in my seat.
“Yes.” His smile flashed again, and my knees went weak. I licked my lips and looked away.
“So, chat.”
“Bossy.”
“Like you should talk,” I muttered.
“You look nice.” He pulled out a plate and served the eggs onto it then handed me a fork. “I like black on you.”
“Apparently you like black on people and white on walls.”
His smile froze. “Pardon?”
“Walls.” I pointed around me. “Everything you live in is pristine, white, makes a girl wonder if you hate getting dirty.”
His eyes darkened as he leaned forward and flicked his tongue across his lips. “Are you asking me if I like getting dirty?”
No. No I wasn’t. Because I was pretty sure we were talking about two different types of dirty, and I wasn’t at all prepared for his answer, not with the way he was looking at me like he could devour me in an instant.
“Um…” I shoveled a forkful of egg into my mouth and nodded. “Good eggs.”
His expression changed from predatory to innocence. “Thanks.”
Were we actually having a normal non-creepy conversation? I cleared my throat and continued eating so I wouldn’t ruin it by talking.
“Yesterday…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He did that a lot, almost like he used his hair for his power when he had to talk about things he didn’t want to talk about. “It was a hard day…”
“Can I ask why?”
“You can ask.” He shrugged, “But I’ll lie.”
“All right, then.” I put down my fork and folded my hands. “So, it was a hard day. Doesn’t mean you have a right to own a girl, make her sign over her life all within an hour of meeting her, then yell at her.”
“I never yelled.”
Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “Well, you sure don’t like using an inside voice.”
His face cracked into a smile. “Like I said before, I need someone of your talents.”
“I don’t have sex for money.”
“Why are you so concerned with having sex with me?” He smirked, “Seriously, I want to know.”
“Uh, I just, you seem like the type of man who—”
“—Can’t get a woman without paying for her services?” He finished, “That type?”
“Well no, but—”
“The type of man who needs to make a woman sign a contract in order to engage in an illicit affair?”
Was he seriously asking me that? My cheeks burned with embarrassment while my heart thumped with a wild curiosity. Images of bondage and blindfolds danced through my mind… and those masks.
“That’s not what this is.” His eyes were kind, damn him, and I felt like crying. I could handle an ass, but someone sensitive to my feelings? Not so much. Because I hadn’t experienced it much in my short life… my mother ignored me as much as she could, paying all her attention to my father. And my father, well safe to say if he was ever given a father of the year award it would be because he freaking paid for it.
“So, you need me,” I finally said after a few moments of tense silence. “Why exactly do you need me?”
“Your research—” He drummed his fingertips along the counter. “—amongst other things, is absolutely brilliant.”
My heart soared. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled. “I see real promise, and I want you to study under me, but some of the ways I do my own personal research isn’t exactly…” He shrugged. “Legal.”
“Thus, the contract.”
“Exactly.”
“But thirty girls?”
He froze, drew a deep breath, then shrugged again. “They didn’t follow the rules, therefore they got fired. I decided that what I needed wasn’t necessarily an assistant to replace Jac but someone who could empathize with what I was doing.”
It was the most information he’d told me in two days. I clung to it like a lifeline. “And if I do well?”
“Then the world is yours.” He flashed a smile. “But all the rules from yesterday still stand… what I deal with is very sensitive and not known to the public. Do your job, with a smile on your face, and as we build trust… slowly, I’ll amend the contract.”
“So, I prove my trust and I get Netflix?”
He chuckled softly. “Yeah, something like that, but one thing… you still can’t date… or sleep around. I can’t imagine that will be a problem for you all things considered but, I can’t have you mixing business with pleasure.”
And all the happy moments we shared just went out the window. “I’m not a saint.”
“Lie.” He leaned forward and winked. “I know everything about you. Now, let’s get to work. We have a short day before we go… fishing.”
“Fishing?”
“In a sense.” He shrugged. “For patients.”
“What?”
“Keep up.” He knocked the counter top with his hands. “I’ll show you what you’ll be doing during the day and during the evening… you’re mine.”
“Can’t wait,” I said dryly.
“Most women… would be… pleased.” He shoved a pair of keys in his pocket, looking sexy as hell while doing it. “I imagine you’d rather stab me.”
“Good guess.” I said with a sweet voice.
“Russians.” He shook his head. “Always so ruthless.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Prove your worth, Maya. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Fear has big eyes. —Russian Proverb
Nikolai
My phone hadn’t stopped buzzing in my pocket all morning. The very second I led Maya off the elevator and escorted her into my office, I knew, something was very, very wrong.
I felt it in the pit of my stomach.
I saw it in the gray cast sky.
She was dead.
With shaking hands, I basically shoved Maya into a desk, fired off instructions about some shit research I needed done then excused myself and went into one of the conference rooms.
Seven missed calls.
All from Sergio Abandonato, cousin to one of the most influential Italian Mafia Families in Chicago. He was married to Andi, Maya’s half sister. I’d basically grown up with Andi. While Maya was kept away from what her father did, Andi was used as a shiny tool for the FBI, infiltrating their systems at such a young age that even I had been impressed.
After selling out her father and one of the dirty agents at the bureau, the Abandonatos had offered Andi protection by marriage.
I’d expected her to kill Sergio the first night.
She hadn’t.
I’d expected her to drive him insane with lust.
She had.
Their marriage was supposed to be an arrangement, a way to protect her with their Family name while she fought a losing battle with leukemia.
