Vik by Belle Aurora

26

Vik

I was tired.Worn to the bone. Spread thinner than butter on toast during the Depression. I was relieved to be home after a long day but the moment I walked inside, the tight expressions on my parents’ faces had me pausing midstep.

The atmosphere. The air around us. It all felt off. And when I proceeded to enter the living room, I saw the problem with my own eyes.

You have got to be fucking with me.

For a second, my lungs tightened. “What are you doing here?”

The man simply blinked at me, plainly unimpressed.

Roam sat at one end of the sofa, dressed pristinely in a black casual suit and Italian leather boots, while Anika sat on the opposite end, wringing her fingers subtly. It was clear she was uncomfortable. And Roam was watching her in a way I did not like.

Without taking his eyes off my sister, he answered coolly, “Now, that’s not a very polite way to greet a colleague.”

Oh, please.

Roam was not a colleague. He was a plague. Pestilence in human form.

Regretfully, he was my cash cow. The answer to my problems. But he was crossing a line. “What are you doing here, Roam?”

And like a fucking martyr, he said, “I wanted to meet the family I was putting myself in peril to assist.”

Putting himself in peril?

This bitch.

Like I hadn’t almost taken a bullet to the chest the night before for a reckless teenager who was hellbent on getting himself killed and taking me with him.

My jaw clenched. “If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was call.”

“But I didn’t.” He looked at me then, his eyes dark and cold and inhuman. “Did I?”

Fucking hell. I had a growing feeling that I made a huge mistake by involving myself with this man.

My suspicions were confirmed when he stood and strode over to the mantel, picking up my mother’s well-loved knickknacks, looking them over while saying, “It hasn’t escaped me that this short-term arrangement of ours has been devised to benefit yourself mainly, and I seek to change the terms to make this business endeavor of ours a little more evenly sided.”

No. That wasn’t the deal. No, no, no.

My insides tightened with irritation.

Sasha warned me. He fucking warned me. But did my desperate ass listen?

No.

I knew this was too good to be true. I already made a shit-ton of money from this psycho. I needed this. And depending on what the amendment to the arrangement was, I was most likely going to have to accept. I was so close to making enough to save the house. I didn’t have a lot of time left.

If he wanted my goddamn soul, he could have it.

The motherfucker had cornered me. And like the idiot I was, I allowed it.

Careful not to display my angst, my eyes landed on my mother as she shook her head in warning, and I asked, “What are you after?”

Roam snuffled out a laugh, turned to face me, and said, “Something that will cost you more than just money.”

The way he said it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. Yeah. The Disciples were not people you fucked with, and I was about to learn the hard way.

Whatever I thought he might say, I was not expecting him to utter a void, emotionless, “I want her,” and when he lifted his hand, pointing to Anika, my anger imploded.

Taking a solid step forward, I snarled, “The fuck you say?”

He was kidding. He had to be. There was no way in hell.

My sister’s head snapped toward me, and the fear in her eyes had my fists clenching.

Roam did not waver. In fact, he smiled slow and sly, and repeated himself, “I want her.”

Goddamn. I was shaking with pent-up rage. I struggled to keep my tone even. “You can’t have her.”

When my mother began to speak in rapid-fire Russian, my father attempted to calm her, and Roam looked at them with a hollowness that was chilling. His demeanor did not match his words as he spoke directly to my mom, revealing he understood a bit of Russian. “No, I won’t hurt her. In fact, while she’s with me, you can guarantee that nobody would have a chance to get close enough to touch her.”

My father’s jaw tightened. “You can have anything else. Anything.”

My father… begging. The thought sickened me.

Jesus. How low we’d fallen.

A slow smile spread Roam’s lips, but predictably, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t want anything else.”

He was enjoying this.

My mother peered at me with wide eyes, beseeching quietly, “Viktor. No.”

It was okay.

I wouldn’t give in. This was my sister. I wasn’t about to feed her to the sharks. Especially not one who looked as hungry as Roam did.

My pride was set aside, and it felt wrong to be in a position that felt so unnatural, but for the first time in my life, I pleaded, “Anything else, Roam. Anything. You want me to do a couple of jobs without payment? You want a marker? Done. You need drugs? I got a guy. Want fast women? I know a few. I can meet you halfway,” I told him, knowing I was giving him the upper hand, “but you can’t have her.”

I silently prayed he’d be the bigger man. I should have known better.

Roam looked at me a while, and when he slid his hands into his pants pockets, he blew out a breath and spoke frankly. “Well, that’s a shame, because”—one shoulder lifted unflappably—“you’ve pretty much solidified my need to have her.”

Oh God.

No.

My chest ached.

What have I done?

I turned to look at my sister and found her looking right back at me.

We were in trouble here.

Roam’s eyes darkened. “If I don’t get her, you don’t get work. Ask yourself—how desperate are you?”

Desperate as hell. But not desperate enough to gift him my sister.

I was already shaking my head and saying, “No. You can’t have her,” when from the far side of the sofa, Anika looked down at her lap and let out a low, hushed, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” I exclaimed with fury, my harsh gaze snapping to hers.

“Anika, no,” my father said irately, standing.

Mother cried out, “No!” And when she looked to Roam with tears in her eyes, she put her hands together in prayer and begged, “Please. Not my daughter.”

Surprisingly, Roam looked over my mother’s delicate form, and his face softened very, very marginally when he replied, “She will be safe with me.”

Of all the lies….

I made the short distance over to my sister and knelt in front of her. “Anika. Don’t do this.”

And when her eyes met mine, a serene smile of acceptance spread across her lips as she uttered low enough only for me to hear, “Finally doing my part. Sharing the load. I told you I can heft some weight.”

Jesus. She thought she was helping me by sacrificing herself to this evil shithead.

I never wanted this. “Not like this.”

“Hey.” Obviously sensing my distress, she put her hand to my cheek and reassured, “Everything’s going to be fine. Just—” She seemed to hesitate a moment. “—no matter what happens,” she whispered, “don’t call him.”

I barely heard what she said through the blood rushing through my ears.

“Anika,” I called when she stood and walked over to the man who claimed her, leaving a small gap between them.

“I would like to talk terms.” She sounded so confident, so unlike herself, that a solid frown was pulled from me.

And Roam’s eyes swept over her a moment before his lip twitched. “Good girl. Smart.”

“I will spend some time with you, but I’m not a dog. I won’t be leashed or petted or played with without my permission. You will not touch me unless I allow it.”

Roam looked her over appreciatively, and it took everything I had not to fly kick him in the face. He returned a controlled, “Likewise.”

Anika raised her chin and looked down her nose at him. “And I won’t allow it. So, whatever plan you have for me, I can tell you right now that you will be sorely disappointed.”

But Roam wasn’t deterred. “Oh no. I’m already very happy with this transaction.” He watched her closely before ordering, “Get dressed into something nice. I’m taking you out to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” was her immediate response, to which Roam looked down at her overly lean body and uttered an unkind, “Yeah, well, you look it.”

Asshole.

Her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted in what I could only guess was minor outrage before her mouth snapped shut and she all but stomped out of the room, Roam’s eyes followed her. When she was gone, he waited a moment before he turned to me and said, “See? Easy. I get her. You get work. Everybody’s happy.”

He spoke about my sister like she was an object. As if she was a car he’d bartered for and bought. It grated on my every nerve. I vowed, “You touch her and I’ll kill you.”

But Roam, the cocky fuck, uttered a bored, “Yeah, I know you want to believe that, but the truth is, if I touch her, you won’t do shit. Because if I do touch her—” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “—she’ll have begged me for it.”

Anger burned a hole in my chest, and I rushed him. “You piece of shit.” My father stood lightning-fast, wrapping his arms around me, whispering words of assurance as I struggled in his hold and thundered, “Keep your paws off my sister!”

His lips tipped up in the corners, but one could hardly call it a smile. It was slimy and arrogant and enraging. I struggled in my father’s hold, and when I managed to shrug him off, Roam’s dark gaze dared me to rush him. It took a willpower I didn’t know I had to force my feet to stay put.

I don’t know how long we stood there, staring holes into each other, but I got the distinct feeling that whatever Roam was playing at, he was quietly reaching his goal. And when Anika returned wearing a modest black dress with long sleeves and a hem that came to just above her knees, she took one look at the tense circle we had formed and made her way over to our mom. Anika embraced her as Mother whispered words of apprehension, and I watched my sister grimace at whatever our mom was telling her. She then walked into our father’s hold and spoke only for his ears. He nodded, and then she was walking toward me, wearing a sad smile.

She stepped into my arms, and I hugged her like never before, my eyes never leaving the smirking sociopath. Having spent a great portion of my life protecting my sister, this was perhaps the first time in my life that I was actually frightened for her. She was going to be alone with this animal with no guard, no shield, no sword. Just her pretty self and this beast. And it fucked with my head.

“Call me. I don’t care if all he does is look at you wrong; you call me,” I whispered into her ear, and she squeezed me.

“Promise me you won’t call him” was all she returned, and I didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. I sensed something bigger happening there, but now was not the time.

“I can’t do that.”

“Let’s go,” Roam uttered, stopping behind Anika, waiting impatiently for her to move.

Anika straightened, but she kept her eyes on me, twisting her body to maintain eye contact. “Don’t call him, Vik.”

I would not promise anything. Not when it came to her safety.

At the door, Roam followed Anika through before turning, winking and stating with blatant undertone, “Don’t wait up.”

It took everything I had not to head down to my room, pull out my piece, and shoot him right between the eyes.

My anger had me jumping out of my skin. Fuck. I wanted to kill him, and I would have if he wasn’t the sole reason I was getting myself out of a very sticky situation.

But at what cost?

From the window, I watched Roam get the door for Anika, and once she slipped into his black, futuristic-looking Mercedes Benz, my gut sank with the weight of a boulder. He got in, the car started, and my breathing got heavy. They took off, and my throat tightened.

She was gone. I couldn’t protect her.

My mother wept, and I regained focus. I wished I hadn’t when I turned to face her. Her misery cut me all over. Even more so when she whispered a broken, “What have you done?”

It felt like I’d been cut in two. “I’ll fix this.”

“No,” my father breathed. “No more fixing. No more rough work. No more anything.” He turned his furious gaze on me and thundered, “No more!”

My heart broke. “I can fix this, Pops,” I tried to explain. “I’ve been trying to fix this.”

My father looked at me then like he didn’t even know me, and it gutted me whole. What he said haunted me. “Who asked you to?”

He slid his arm around my mother’s shaking shoulders and walked her out of the room, out of sight, leaving me alone with my chaotic thoughts, knowing I couldn’t have fucked this up harder if I tried.

* * *

Anika

“Eat something.”

I was a little hungry but I was also being defiant. The handsome, dangerous man opposite me kept his fierce gaze on me, and eating suddenly seemed like a good way to get him to stop. So, I lifted my fork, stabbed a piece of the roasted pumpkin and pine nut pasta, and brought it to my mouth. It was delicious, of course, but I refused to show it and give him the satisfaction.

The way he watched me chew in sheer fascination had me lowering my eyes, trying like hell to stop the flush from appearing at my neck.

And in the brief time spent with him, I learned something and learned it fast.

Roam was intense.

After a short amount of silence, I asked carefully, “What do you want from me?”

My mind lit up like a Christmas tree with all the images of the “what ifs” that may be.

Ignoring his own meal, he responded a cool, “Right now, I want you to eat.”

And so I did, because it seemed a hell of a lot better than talking to him. Only once I’d eaten a quarter of my meal did he begin to eat his own, and while he didn’t scarf it down like an animal, he ate in a way that made me think his beginnings were a bit more humble than mine.

I didn’t want to admit I was intrigued by him. I hated to concede that he was good-looking in a way that made my tongue swell. There was something about him though. Something almost… sad.

Our meals eaten, we sat in silence, exchanging inquisitive glances. He sipped at his whisky, holding the tumbler effortlessly in his large hand until the quiet was suddenly suffocating.

“What would you like to talk about?” I asked in an attempt to make him believe I was trying here.

His unexpected response shut me down. “I don’t like to talk much.”

Right. Sure. Because why would he make this easy on me?

I hesitated but found myself saying, “I’m having a hard time figuring out what you want from me—apart from the obvious, that is.”

Roam snuffled out a laugh, and when he said, “I don’t want to have sex with you,” I could have died of mortification, because I really assumed he did. And when he added, “I just want to fuck with your brother. Get inside his head. Make him think I want that.” My brows bunched in puzzlement.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because,” he stated starkly, “your brother is a conceited, arrogant man who thinks he’s above me, and I really want to knock him down a peg or two.” He sipped his whisky. “Show him who’s really helping who in this situation.”

Oh God.

I was here because Vik had said something to piss this man off?

Ugh. Figures.

I probably should have kept my opinion to myself. “Sounds like you’re a little conceited yourself.”

He moved his glass under his nose and breathed it in. “I am.”

Okay. Unexpected admission there. “Then you can admit that neither one of you is better than the other.”

Roam blinked at me then, and when his brow lowered, I thought I might have pushed a little too hard. But then he doubled down, and I quickly realized I was not in the presence of a normal man. “No, I am unquestionably the better man.” He placed his glass down, and the move drew me in, demanding my full attention. “Firstly, I would never let my family get into the position yours is in right now. I would have fixed that shit before it even began. Nipped it in the bud before it escalated to a height I could not climb. Secondly, Viktor came to me. He came begging, and I helped. So, I think we can confirm who wields more power here, as here I am, sitting with you while your family loses their fucking minds. And do you know why, princess?”

I was scared to ask.

Roam leaned in a little. “Simply because I desired it.”

A shiver stole down my spine.

Who was this man?

Roam looked down at me, shook his head lightly, and ignored me from then on out. Over the course of the evening, I observed men come to our table. The kind of men I recognized. Men who lived in the darkness of the underworld. And they greeted Roam with reverence, offering their respect.

My anxiety grew.

Not one person spared me a glance. Not one person dared to meet my eyes. And I knew why.

It was because a man like Roam did not have to fight for a woman. It was because they knew I was his, uncontested, until the moment he was bored of me.

The thought had my stomach twisting, but I masked it as best as I could, sitting tall with grace and poise, and when Roam’s dark gaze flittered over me like a slow flame, I felt the warmth of it everywhere.

The restaurant dimmed, and the place started to be packed up around us. I checked my watch and uttered, “It’s getting late,” in the hopes that he would take the hint.

He got it. He just didn’t care. And he did not look at me when he leaned back in his chair and muttered, “Not late enough.”

I tried again. “They’re closing.”

And the hard stare that locked onto me was lethal. “They’ll remain open for me.”

Right. Of course they would.

So, we stayed. We stayed until everyone was gone and the only lit space in the restaurant was the warm light above us along with a small tealight candle flickering in a glass in the center of our table. Time went by, and I lost some of my polish, slinking down into my chair, covering my mouth with the back of my hand, and yawning lightly.

I went from anxious to bored out of my brain.

My eyes ran over the thick silver rings on each of his fingers, the small silver hoop in one ear, the thin, feminine-looking chain and silver crucifix around his neck. His perfectly styled hair, neatly trimmed beard, and his midnight gaze.

Look, I was exhausted, and I blamed what I said partly on that fact. I’d also had a couple of glasses of wine. So, I pondered out loud, “You know, if you’d have asked me out on a date, I might have said yes.”

His gaze softened mildly then, but his words did not match the sentiment. “I don’t date.”

“No.” I looked him over. “I don’t suppose you’d have to.”

And when the understanding of my loose-lipped statement reached him, a slow smile spread his lips, revealing straight white teeth and sharp pointed canines. He winked at me, and my insides did a strange little shimmy.

After what seemed like hours, Roam finally checked his watch, then conceded, “I think we’ve dawdled long enough. They should be nice and irate by now. Time to go.”

Never one to argue with a madman, when he walked around and pulled out my chair, I stood and allowed him to guide me with a hand to my lower back as he thanked the owners, slipping them a wad of bills before he walked me to his car.

The ride home was quiet and uneventful, and when we finally reached my house, I didn’t exit the car until Roam moved around to open my door. He closed it behind me, and because I knew better and didn’t want to piss him off, I waited to be dismissed.

Roam blocked me in with the wall of his body, looked at me a long moment, and his words surprised me. “I’m a pill. The kind that sticks in your throat. Chokes you on the way down.” His brows creased. “And you are not what I thought you would be. You got this whole Grace Kelly thing going on. Classy. Poised.”

Was that a compliment?

God, I wanted this to be over. “I had a nice time. Thank you.”

He didn’t even attempt to hide his grin. “No, you didn’t, but that’s what I’m talking about. You’re polite. I like that.” His grin fell away to make room for a sudden frown. The words were quietly spoken and made my entire body tingle. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

Why did that make me feel weak?

A better question was, why did I lick my lips?

Oh no. What was happening here?

Roam’s hooded gaze followed my tongue, and when he moved closer, I forgot to breathe. His face descended, and unconsciously, I reached up to place my hand on his chest. In a daze, I closed my eyes as my fingers glanced the front of his shirt, and when he snatched my wrist, grasping it tight enough to bruise, my eyes snapped open, and I peered up into his vicious expression with my mouth agape.

His nostrils flared as he ground out the words. “I don’t like to be touched.”

Oh my God.

It was as though I was under a spell. My heart raced as I realized what I’d almost done. I almost kissed this psycho.

Was I that desperate for affection?

Jesus. Nobody was that desperate for affection.

My eyes wide, my voice was whisper-soft. “I’m sorry.”

The response seemed to placate him, because his face gentled, and he released me. Stepping back, I discreetly rubbed at the heated area he’d seized, trying to soothe it. And he noticed.

A hundred thoughts went through my mind, and as though he could read each and every one of them, impassive features held me fast as he uttered roughly, “Oh, baby, no. Don’t do it to yourself. Trust me.” He made his way back to the driver side and opened the door, his obsidian gaze dangerously dim. “I can’t be fixed.”

He slid inside, shut the door, and drove away without a backward glance. And yet, I stood there trying desperately to think of what just happened.

The moment I opened the door, Vik was already there, walking the hall, waiting. He strode toward me, and the first thing out of his mouth was “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing.” I dipped my chin, because that wasn’t exactly true. He did something, all right.

He captivated me.

“Anika.” Vik looked crazed as he placed his hands on my shoulders and repeated, “What did he do to you?”

I frowned at my brother, shrugging him off. “Nothing,” I relayed once more with sass.

“You don’t have to protect me. I can take it.”

I shouldered passed him and spoke quietly, “Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit.”

And just as I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to respond, I came to a standstill.

Why?

Because when I glanced in the living room, I saw them. And my heart shattered with humiliation. Turning back to my brother, I grated out, “I asked you not to call.”

Lev stood from his place on the sofa and took a step toward me. “Are you all right, Anika? I can’t tell.”

God, Lev. Not now.

Sasha glanced down at the coffee table, his jaw tight, his words clinical. “Watch the attitude. He was worried.”

“Worried?” I asked my brother caustically. “You were worried?”

“Of course I was.” He had the nerve to glare at me.

“Well—” I threw my purse down onto the cabinet to my right. “—congratulations. That’s exactly what he wanted, jackass.”

“What?” Vik looked confused.

“Yeah,” I told him. “He never had any intention of using me as his dolly. Hell, he was more interested in getting me to eat.”

Vik shook his head. “No, Anika. You don’t know him. He’s not a good guy.”

“I never said he was, Vik, but I’m telling you. He was messing with you. He told me so himself. Wanted you to be scared, wanted you to know who the better man was. The more powerful man.” At my brother’s harsh frown, I began to nod. “Yeah. He said that. And I sat there all night, conversationless, because the guy doesn’t like to talk. So, you can stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I just lost my freaking innocence, okay?” I yelled, panting in anger. “Nothing happened.” Vik looked at me sadly then, and I couldn’t deal with it. I spun on Sasha, and his cool, golden gaze irked me. “Now you know.” My arms swung out in a wide arc. “I whored myself out to a kingpin, and he didn’t even want me. Happy?”

Sasha did not say a word. No one did.

And as I passed Vik, my voice trembled as I shook my head at him. On the verge of tears, I whispered, “I asked you not to call him.”

Mortified, I made it to my room before the tears fell.

So many thoughts but only one that mattered.

What would Sasha think of me now?

* * *

Vik

“It’s time to talk, brother,”Sasha said guardedly.

It was. I could no longer do this on my own. Worn down and broken, I nodded slowly, defeated, knowing I had failed to fix my issues on my own.

And I talked.