A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 8

Well, that shut her up quickly.

She looked stumped.

Soft, wet hair spilling like waves framed Lada’s glittering green eyes.

Pretty little cupid lips parted.

He wanted to reach across and lick her lips with his tongue, tracing and memorizing them. Tearing his eyes from her lips, his gaze traveled to her body that was in minimal clothes.

Only in a pair of black bra and black panties, it popped against her pale, freckled skin. Freckles covered her from head to toe. Her wet locks clung to her skin, and she reached a hand up to tuck them behind her ears. Narrowing his gaze on her scars, he realized he stared at them up close.

Some of the jagged edges were darker than the others. Five scars began on her forehead and ran halfway to her cheek. He trailed his gaze down to her long neck before dropping to her neckline and eyeing her tits. Perky and round. He wanted to touch them. She was fair, so fair, her nipples were probably really pink. Even the thin bra couldn’t hide the sharp buds of the erect nipples pushing against the fabric. He’d seen them in the car, and he wanted to claim her then. Arousal stirred in his body as he tilted his head and memorized the view in front of him.

As if she could sense him looking, her hands reached up to cover her scars with her hair. He’d already seen them though, and she’d basically invited him too.

His gaze lowered to her taut stomach before stopping on her slim navel and traveled down to her slender legs. He really shouldn’t check her out so openly, but his eyes were glued to her body.

I declare you guilty, his inner voice chided.

His lip twitched, and he tried not to roll his eyes.

You’re a big bad criminal.

He held in a sigh.

Get out of my head.

Little Lada over here was just as guilty as him.

Had she thought of him as stupid when she asked him to help her wear that damn dress? He’d genuinely asked out of concern the first time when he’d seen her struggling to clasp her bra. He didn’t think it was because she couldn’t see, but then, she had surprised him by asking about the dress.

Maybe she wanted him to touch her.

She wasn’t the first blind person he knew.

He had a neighbor at his other house—an elderly lady—who lived alone with her guide dog.

If she could dress herself, so could Lada.

He smirked, knowing that she couldn’t see his expression, and looked at her with amusement. He’d let her think she was taking him for a fool and played along with her.

Her spirit sparkled behind those mischievous eyes.

The beauty wasn’t so innocent after all…

She might be a demon from hell, but she had no idea who she was dealing with.

He could play the innocent charade too.

He dragged his eyes from her body and ran a long hand down his face.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

He stopped smiling and cleared his throat, remembering his earlier comment that slipped out.

“Let’s pretend you didn’t hear that. Do you still want help with that dress?”

Great. Pretend she’s deaf while blind too, his inner voice chimed.

Lada only blinked.

When she didn’t answer, he picked up the green dress, the color he’d chosen for her that he thought would complement her hair.

“Lada?” he asked, looking into her eyes. “The dress.”

“You… You said….” her soft voice came.

He hid a smirk. “What did I say?” he asked innocently.

“Tits,” she squeaked out before her cheeks flamed red like the hues in her brown hair.

He stared for a beat, and his lips twitched.

You have great ones.

“It slipped out,” he replied after a second.

She pressed her lips together before she glanced at the floor. Her face dropped along with her lips. He liked her little facial expressions. She could tell facial cues, that was good.

“Arms in the air.”

Her head jerked up at the command.

Her little mouth formed an ‘O’ before she did as he instructed. Thin arms went in the air, and he stepped closer. Her breath hitched from his sudden movement, and goosebumps covered her skin. The lavender lily shampoo scent mixed with her natural sandalwood scent engulfed him as he tried to focus on the task. He slipped the dress over her, pulling it down over her waist and legs before it nestled nicely on her. Eyeing her again, he stepped back, tracing the vision in front of him. The little, short-sleeve satin dress hugged her hips before it flared out at the hem.

“You need me to find you a female for tomorrow?”

Or we could pretend that you really don’t know how to dress, and we can do this every day?

She bit her lip, and his eyes followed the movement. He wanted to bite her instead.

“I don’t feel comfortable around other people. Can you come again tomorrow until I decide?” she asked nervously. Her gaze darted anywhere but at him and her cheeks pinked.

You little minx.

Miran rubbed the hair on his chin as he openly observed her and smirked again. He’d been told in the past his smile was his best feature. Dimples and all. But now, he was glad she couldn’t see his expressions. He didn’t have to control his reactions around her.

Okay, I’ll play your little game.

She smiled mischievously before it disappeared from her face.

Oh, she must think he was really gullible and dumb.

You told everyone she was too young for you, his inner voice said.

That’s because I thought she was like a child.

“Alright,” he agreed. “Now, why don’t you wear your shoes?” He eyed the flats in the plastic bag that he bought. Picking them up, he bent down and placed them in front of her. “We’ll go outside, and I’ll introduce you to the men.”

He still stayed crouched on the floor as he peered up at her.

She hadn’t moved at all, and she was playing with her hair. Maybe he had spooked her with his earlier forwardness.

“Lada?”

When she didn’t reply, he reached his large hand for her little, delicate ankle. His fingers pressed against it, lifting it, and she let out a tiny gasp. Her hand darted forward, grabbing air before her thin fingers curled around his thick hair, gripping it.

He stiffened inside his pants. Holding in a groan, he clenched his teeth and helped her put the shoes on. He wanted to remove her hand and place it on his cock instead.

There was too much tension in the air. Maybe once he would leave for work tomorrow, he would reach out to one of his casual partners and have a hard fuck. Lada was off-limits, no matter the hints she was giving to him-not-so subtly.

Miran rose, and her grip left his hair.

He needed air and to think with a cool head. He reached for Bailey’s chain, lengthening it, and grabbed Lada’s hand, placing it on her wrist.

“It’s Bailey’s chain.”

He turned away, and Lada followed behind silently. Bailey walked in front of her. He glanced over his shoulder at her gaze glued to the floor. She looked unraveled. Her skin was still pink.

The men were already in the living room.

He nodded at Omer and Ahmet as he approached. Two Turkish-American cops, he worked with in the past when he was a detective. They were both tall, tanned, but lean compared to his stockier frame.

“Her name is Lada Sokolova,” he introduced her.

The cops’ eyes went straight to her face, to the visible scars.

Omer’s eyes widened in surprise, and Miran narrowed his eyes. The cop lost the expression quickly.

“I’m Ahmet and this is Omer,” Ahmet’s deep voice came.

Miran’s jaw ticked. “Omer’s to his right,” he corrected.

The men’s eyes shot up in his direction before they quickly averted their gaze.

“Omer say hello. She needs to know your voice,” Miran commanded.

Omer only spoke, “Hello.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lada said politely.

“They will be here tomorrow morning when I leave. Right now, they’re going home. I wanted you to meet them in case you wake up tomorrow and find me missing,” Miran said.

She only nodded.

The cops quickly took their leave.

“Are you returning to work too?” she asked.

He shook his head but then remembered she couldn’t see it.

“No. It’s going to be evening soon.”

Sinclair’s voice echoed in his mind.

Find what information she knows.

Instead, he asked, “Since you’re bored often, what do you like doing?”

“I like reading, braille books, and audiobooks. And I am not bored.”

He only studied her and tried again.

“What kind of Russian food do you like?”

She only shrugged. “I like all cuisines. I’m not picky.”

He waited a second before casually asking, “Why did your father want you to marry Sasha?”

She raised her chin. “It was a good alliance for him.”

“And you didn’t think it was?”

She exhaled slowly before biting down on her lip.

“Sasha is not my… type.”

Oh. Well, Sasha Petrov was an older man. She didn’t like age differences. Disappointment filled him now.

“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“I rather not talk about it.”

She shut the topic up pretty quickly.

He looked at her, confused, before bluntly stating, “The DEA doesn’t support my decision on helping you.” He waited for a reaction. She frowned but stayed quiet. “They said if you become a witness to your father’s crimes, they could help you. Do you have any information about him and his dealings?”

He didn’t know if she would reveal anything to him at all.

She bit her lip. “I… He doesn’t talk about anything with me.”

Was she lying? He glanced at the darting eyes that were looking anywhere but him.

“Surely, you must have heard something?” he insisted.

Her lower lip tugged down even further.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t sell my father out,” she said at last.

He was taken aback, and now he grimly replied, “So you’re going to cover up his crimes?” The judgment in his voice was clearly there. “Even after everything, he put you through?”

“There’s a code,” she huffed, “Vory v Zakone. Thieves in laws. We’re bound, and if it’s broken, its punishment is death.”

He raked a hand through his hair and called out her hypocrisy, “There are eighteen codes in the Bratva underworld, and one of them is not associating with the authorities.” When she was unresponsive, he added, “And what am I?”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“It would be easier if you could help me, you know?”

“Because you helped me?”

He didn’t reply.

She let out a bitter laugh.

“And here I was thinking you were being righteous. Was this part of a scheme to get information from my father?”

He let out a frustrated grunt. “No. I am only asking.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you after my father?”

“Maybe,” he replied after a moment.

“And Pakhan and Sir Alexei?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation.

Her jaw almost dropped. “You’re after my family but you decide to spare your blood? Aren’t you the moral police who don’t discriminate between crimes?”

Once again, the conversation was escalating into a displeasing route.

“Your father’s crimes are different.”

Lada’s green eyes turn fiery. “How so? Why is he under investigation and not the others?”

Because I have a strong case built up against him only.

“None of your business,” he replied, dismissing her.

Her expression changed from disbelief to hurt.

“I hate you,” she muttered.

Here we go again.

Miran was losing his patience again. His jaw ticked, and he choked out, “You hate me, after everything I have done for you? You are an ungrateful child.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock, but he continued anyway.

“Yes, you fell. I’m aware. You don’t need to keep taunting me about that,” he breathed hard as he spoke, “I should’ve got you a cane. You’re right to be upset, but there was too much chaos going on. My DEA officers and I were being tracked when I returned after dropping you.”

Her emerald eyes lit up in surprise, but that pretty mouth of hers finally shut up. She listened now.

“I didn’t want anyone coming back to you,” he continued, raking a hand through his hair, “That’s why I didn’t return. I was bringing you the cane in the morning… but it was too late.” He sighed deeply, throwing his hands in frustration. “You had an accident. I didn’t expect it, but it was my fault. Fine. I blame myself for that.”

She swallowed hard at his admittance.

“It’s been a rough few days, but I’m trying for you, okay?” he snapped. “I’m fucking trying.”

Miran was cursing again, and I wanted his foul mouth to curse some more.

Something was wrong with me.

The only two times I’d heard him curse was when he was being protective as hell.

“I’ve risked everything for you.”

His voice…

It was sin. Pure sin. If I wasn’t so pissed at him, I would have begged him to talk more.

My breathing stifled a moment, and my lower lip trembled. I didn’t want to think of the meaning behind his words. So simple yet so complex. His statement hit me hard, and it made my heart flutter.

He was quiet. So quiet now that the only noises in the room were the beating of my heart and my quickened pulse.

I twisted my lips with my face wrapped in confusion.

“Nobody asked you to.”

I tried to downplay my reaction, not knowing what else to say.

He exhaled slowly. Maybe he was deciding the best possible way to kill me.

“Do you want me to return you to Sasha?” he growled.

The anger was building up inside of me, and I wanted to throttle him.

“You are a demon from hell, you know that, right?” he taunted.

I slapped my hand against my forehead.

“You’re being immature,” I called out.

“Me?” he exclaimed with a bitter laugh. “You are such a child. Thank God, I didn’t marry a brat like you.”

I couldn’t believe he just said that.

My heart cracked open at his words. It was like he’d sent a dagger straight through my heart, opening up old wounds again. The same wounds that were slowly closing, but they were bleeding wide open again.

I could feel them…. but it broke me that he couldn’t see them.

I waited for an apology, to hear him say that he was just angry, and he’d misspoken.

I waited, and I waited some more.

He didn’t apologize, and his footsteps retreated from me.

He’d meant every word that he’d said.