The Very Rude Boys Next Door by Chloe Kent

Chapter Eleven

 

First it had been over a week since they had kept her in their bed, that after stopping her from leaving with Janine.

But after ten days had passed, Janine and Edgar had dropped off a crate of cranberry juice for her, which Ben had collected from them at the door, and she realized she had fooled no one and that everyone in Lakeside Banter knew what she had been up to, multiple times a day.

Viktoria had sent her messages whenever she could, just to let her know she was okay. And so far, her Uncle Fedor didn’t seem to have a clue where she was, or they would have been here already.

But a sadness washed over her now as she lay quietly in the bed in their house.

Her period was due tomorrow.

Could she be pregnant? She placed her hand on her tummy, and flashes of three men’s faces swam before her eyes. If she was pregnant, that would mean she would never see them again.

There was nothing clinical about the intense feelings that settled within her at the thought of having a baby. Of having their baby because that’s how they worked, these three brothers. They told her she belonged to them, just like the baby would be theirs.

She physically shook herself again and warned herself one last time she couldn’t afford to make any romantic attachments to them. She planned on never setting eyes on them ever again. That was just how it was going to be.

Ben had gone to the pharmacy for her and brought home every kind of pregnancy kit available. She contemplated doing one, and then suddenly the overwhelming feeling to take a test hit her. As if she just knew, somehow, she was pregnant

She waited the allotted time, and she sat on the bed, watching the pregnancy stick until it gave her some sort of answer. Tears had started to gather in her eyes and drip down her face moments before a result was shown to her.

She was pregnant.

And with that realization came the agonizing truth that she had fallen hopelessly and desperately in love with each of the men.

She had given each of them a piece of her and it had happened so quickly and so naturally and now the thought of facing life without them made her feel numb. Empty. A shell on the inside that would only exist for her unborn child. A direct reminder of what she had lost.

And she had to lose them.

There was no other way. They didn’t belong in her world.

But it had only been a business transaction. The result was her getting pregnant. And payment should be on its way now.

She had to leave. They had done their task as she had asked them to, and now there was zero reason for her to stay. That was not part of the deal. Falling in love with them was not part of the deal either.

They hadn’t given her their banking details, only because they hadn’t yet gotten around to discussing it but she was a woman of her word, and as soon as she could, she would be sending them a check.

It was over.

Unable to stop the rampant tears from spilling down her face now, she sent a message to Viktoria. Two words and nothing more. It’s done.

Two minutes later, her phone rang.

“Miss Koltov. My name is Rudy Adamson. I’m part of the team here in New York handling Maria Koltov’s affairs. I understand we have reason to meet?”

“Yes,” Anastasia whispered, barely listening as he said he would message her an address in the city where their offices were.

It was all happening too fast. She couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think properly, not over the constant shattering of her heart.

When she had tried to leave before, it had been out of a feeling of panic. Of doom. One she couldn’t name, but one that told her she had set herself up to face an insufferable misery by choosing these three men.

Yes, she wanted to run from them to protect them from the evil men in her life, but she was also running away to protect herself. She hadn’t known why exactly at the time when they had stopped her and Janine before they could even leave Janine’s driveway, but she knew why now. At that point she was already half-way in love with them and her panic had dictated her action. Now she knew she was completely, unequivocally in love with them, with all of her heart and soul.

It didn’t matter whether they were making love to her with such tender care, she cried through it all, or when they took her roughly, and she cried for her next orgasm. She had fallen in love with their faces, their strengths, their character, and the way they honored their mother.

They were inherently good men despite doing those utterly bad things to her body that sent her into another sphere of deviant pleasure. Rude things. Vulgar things. Things that had made her so wet, she left puddles of her desire wherever she was and they, without awarding her an ounce of modesty, had demanded she keep her focus on them as they licked it up then kissed her until she could taste herself.

But the thought of her leaving them wrecked her. She tried to find ways to work around it. But that would mean her dragging them into her world and she had already established they didn’t belong there. Her world was violent, filled with people born into that violence, who had now perfected it.

With her inheritance, she would definitely be able to keep her uncle on a leash. But that still left Boris Yveltin and she couldn’t trust he wouldn’t declare a vendetta on them just for embarrassing him.

No, Boris could never know their names. Not ever.

As for her she would be raising her child in a fortress. Would that be a healthy life for him? She didn’t even realize it, but she had already started to refer to the baby inside her as a boy.

Her head was going to explode. Nothing seemed safe anymore. All her options meant nothing would be normal either.

Swallowing her panic, she forced herself to think logically. At the moment the first thing she needed to do was leave.

Yes, leaving was the right thing to do, not only because they had done as she had asked, but it was time to disassociate herself from them in order to protect them. She always knew it was going to come to this. Even when she hadn’t fully realized she was in love with them, instinctively she had behaved in a manner that was meant to protect them.

So even though her heart had erupted into sharp, painful shards that pierced her with agony, her leaving and terminating their… their relationship was to protect them. And that surpassed everything, including her life.

Numb and already feeling the icy coldness as she detached herself from them, from Lakeside Banter itself, she went back to her house.

It was just as well they were going to be out the whole morning, buying supplies to complete the clubhouse. By the time they returned she would be gone.

Forever.

As she packed up her things, she called a cab, and then as if her leaving was aligned with the stars, a cab was less than ten minutes away.

But the next few minutes of her life became wrought with turmoil.

As the driver pulled away from the gated community and out onto the main road, a trio of black SUVs charged them and forced them off the road.

They had found her. They knew where Callum, Ben and Kane lived.

Fear brutalized her senses and for a moment she sat in stunned silence. They had found her. And if they got to her before she could get to Tetya Maria’s lawyer’s office in the city, everything would have been for nothing.

She clutched her tummy in horror. If her uncle found out about her pregnancy before she was placed under the Koltov’s matriarch protection… She stopped thinking immediately.

She would kill her uncle with her bare hands if he touched her baby. But she also had to make sure she escaped him now. One last time before she was given complete freedom. And in her hearts of hearts she knew that her three men would be safe.

She didn’t have to worry about them trying to find her. They didn’t have those kinds of resources. And soon she would fade from their memories. And their son would be the only thing that kept her alive.

With her blood roaring through veins now, and anger shielding her defenses, she pleaded with the petrified driver to please just keep driving, but the man was frozen with fear, his reaction sluggish already as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

She knew what was happening.

He stopped the car and seemed immobilized. She tried to get through to him. To let her take over the driving, but nothing she did could get him to move and because he was a big man, there was hardly any space for Anastasia to reach over and take control of the car.

Frantically she looked behind and saw the men approach. She opened the door immediately and started to run into the forested area that flanked both sides of the secluded road.

Her direction was so bad she didn’t know if she was running toward Lakeside Banter or away from it. She ran until her lungs screamed at her to stop but she pushed through that agonizing burn.

But just as she had always believed from the moment her uncle had decided she would marry Boris Yveltin, she was never going to outrun him.

Six men closed in on her, and it wasn’t long before she was grabbed. She fought with all her might, but then a debilitating blow from a ringed knuckle on her cheek knocked her out cold.

She remembered drowsily waking up, her hands failing before her as someone held a cloth over her mouth again and held it there until she passed out again. She couldn’t be sure if she had been in the back seat of a car or a plane. Or whether hours or days had passed by.

When she did finally wake up, after being drugged once more, she found herself strung from the ceiling by her wrists in a place she didn’t recognize. It looked deserted, dusty: the furniture decrepit. She had no idea what country she was in. 

Her dress was torn and tattered, her knees scraped from where she had fallen in the forest trying to escape them, her hair tangled all around her and down her back.

Her face felt like it was on fire, and she had a ghastly taste in her mouth, but she forced herself to keep her eyes open and not give in when they wanted to droop close again.

“My dorogoy. At last, we are together.”

If she had expected to see her uncle, believing he had orchestrated this, she was wrong. Before her was Boris Yveltin, adjusting his tie as he glared at her. And she had never seen an uglier sight than now.

“Where is my uncle?” she asked slowly, her voice groggy and hoarse.

“Fedor is but an amateur when it comes to going after what he wants. If I had left it up to him to find you, I would have lost you forever, my dorogoy. You should know I am a man who gets what he wants, my dorogoy.”

“Don’t call me that,” she spat vehemently, feeling the vileness of being in his company inch over her skin.

He came to stand closer to her, and his cologne made her want to retch. So did the sight of him.

“Good. You still have some of that fire in you. I am going to enjoy debasing every little inch of you,” he said, removing his knife from his pocket. “So even though you not a virgin anymore, I will take great pleasure in turning you into my whore, first for making a fool of me, and, well, second because that was going to happen to you anyway. After I took that sweet cunt of yours for the first time, you would be of no use to me, so you would have ended up my whore anyway.” He licked his fat lips, smacking them together.

Boris had a thing for virgins, and it sickened her to think of the women he had taken then offered up to his men. Anastasia never wanted to hurt anyone more in her whole life.

She yanked at the chains at her wrists, cutting into her skin every time she tried to free herself.

“So you like taking American cock in all your holes, yes?” He came closer to her, his breathing heavy, and she was revolted by the erection in his pants. “See, for all your beauty, you were always meant to be a whore.” He suddenly grabbed her by the hair, heaving disgustingly against her as he tried to kiss her.

She screamed at his face and kicked him between his legs. He howled in pain, swearing viciously at her, before he righted himself. Spittle flying from his mouth, he slapped her so hard, her head felt as if it had been dislocated from her shoulders.

He grasped her hair again with the pudgy fingers of one hand, then started to rub his other hand down her abdomen.

Their baby.

She didn’t want this man to breathe the same air as her son. But she also knew that she couldn’t let on she was pregnant. It was something Boris didn’t know, or he would have divulged that information too eagerly.

She tried to jerk away from him, but he pulled her hair so hard, she was losing consciousness again. “You see, I know all about the three Americans you whored yourself with. No matter. They are dead as we speak, and since you are sullied now, as I said before, you will be my toy where I experiment carving into you.”

She didn’t hear anything else he said.

“What? The Americans? Where are they, please? Tell me where they are.” She begged.

“Don’t tell me you believe they are the American Mafia too?” Boris asked, throwing his head back and laughing until tears rolled down his face.

“Did you think you were under the protection of the Smith-Cohen Mafia? It is a myth. They don’t exist. The Smith-Cohen Mafia died decades ago. And no one has taken over from them. Pussies. But Fedor believed they were still running and chickened out.”

She didn’t understand a word he was saying. What American Mafia was he talking about?

“Where are they?” she thundered.

“Being buried in cement in some construction site right now. Like the ordinary weak men they are, and if they were the American Mafia, well, they are dead now anyway, and it was all Boris Yveltin’s doing. I am the legend here. And now it is just you and me. I hope this will serve as a warning no one crosses Boris Yveltin, dorogoy,”he hissed.“Ever.”

No. Please, God, no.

What had she done? How could she have done that. Drag them into her world, use them as way to escape her uncle, yet her true enemy was the man she knew would end up killing her. She had done this. She had done this, and now they were dead.

She screamed in agony, rattling against the chains that kept her trapped. She screamed until her vision blackened, and she found herself alone in a void of darkness.

Callum. Ben. Kane.

She had murdered them as much as the despicable man before her did.

She vacillated between rage and wrath and hollowness and defeat. She vowed to kill him, and at the time she didn’t care what happened to her.

Oh God. The baby.

The baby that was inside her. She still had to fight for the child if nothing else. But her strength was depleted. How could she think another thought, live another minute if they were dead? How could she do it when she had pulled the triggers that had killed them.

“And now, bitch. I will give you the same treatment as you have given me.” He raised his fist, ready to connect with her pelvis.

The assault never came.

Boris spun around with a cry that would have been embarrassing for a man who thought he was so dangerous and feared. He whelped, was what he did, fear bulging from his eyes.

Three tall men, in tailor-made suits, exceptionally groomed, and not one hair out of place, disarmed his bodyguards with effortless grace. At the sound of fists against flesh, of bones being broken, when Anastasia looked again, they had completely destroyed every single one of Boris’s men with such speed and deadliness, it had happened in a flash. And all that remained now was Boris.

Callum. Ben. Kane.

She blinked her heavy-lidded eyes repeatedly. Wondered if Boris’s intention to strike her had been delivered and she’d lost consciousness, and this was a dream.

A fantasy that they were still alive.