The Dark Duet (4 page)

“Rudolph. Kind of early to be up and about doing things, isn’t it?”

He stops before me, crinkling his forehead and scratching inside of that greasy hairstyle he prefers to wear. The scent of strong cologne drifts all around him, stinging my nostrils because he has used too much. “You recently returned to Milan without me being any the wiser to you doing so. And I also hear you charmed one of my most loyal employees into accompanying you.”

Fuck! I didn’t think he’d hear about my escapade so quickly. And why does he think Gemma is his employee? “And?” I ask. “Last I checked, my father was living in Chernobyl.”

Smiling with that superficial grin I have come to loathe, he steps closer and replies, “Your father’s bidding might surprise you someday. Do follow me.”

We leave the living quarters and head down the dark, dank corridors of The Boardwalk. I can only imagine what manner of horror this man has waiting behind closed doors. At the end, he pushes a button, and instead of being taken into the part of the compound where I first saw Alese, we head into an area where the walls are made of stone. As soon as we enter the room, the stench of sweat and blood mixed together drifts into my nostrils ... and then I hear the screams, gut-wrenching wails that pierce my eardrums. We walk through the first empty room and head through the doorway to the adjoining one. A naked woman hangs by her wrists from the ceiling, her back turned toward us as Gash slaps her across the back with his whip. I have no doubt that this is the woman who helped me to force the confessions out of Erin’s tormentors. It’s Gemma.

“You see, I value loyalty above anything else. She disobeyed my orders, choosing instead to assist you back in Italy. I give her credit for being a clever one, though. Original even. She’s been playing both your mother, Katerina, and me against each other in her efforts to advance her ambitions. Using one name for the Dostovskys and another one for me. Now she must reassess her loyalty to the organization.”

“The girl is innocent. She had no idea I was going against your wishes,” I explain.

Burkenstein shrugs. “Nevertheless, she’s a traitor. A turncoat. Feeding lies to me while reporting God knows what to Katerina, to you. A lesson is in order here.”

I swallow hard and force my gaze away from Gash and Gemma. “Do not think for one moment that you will ever get the pleasure of seeing me restrained in such a way,” I state in a monotone voice, making sure to emphasize each syllable, my nostrils flaring as my mouth goes dry. Each slap against Gemma’s skin resonates through me. I could end this right here, could snap each one of these men’s’ necks with one well-timed blow to their Adam’s apples. Yet, I wait. Losing my temper isn’t an option.

“Of course not. The boss wouldn’t think of me doing such a thing to his favorite ... assassin.” He gives me one of his big grins.

“And exactly what boss would we be talking about?” I ask, knowing very well he’s talking about Vladimir.

“Don’t worry yourself with boring facts, Nikolas. Let us instead discuss the dancers I’ve found for you,” he responds, placing an arm across my shoulders, diverting his attention to matters of business and pleasure as though the pain and suffering of others doesn’t faze him at all. We turn and head toward the doorway, moving on as though Gemma’s cries are nothing more than a Tchaikovsky song playing inside of an elevator.

Chapter 5

~
Nikolai
~

Two weeks later, I return to Milan in the middle of a rainstorm. Rudolph has instructed me to keep adequate distance between myself and my friends. Alek and Erin are touring Italy without me; Katerina keeps herself busy with her business and satisfying the insatiable needs of her young lovers. Adriana, the woman who still manages to grasp my heart tightly inside of my chest, avoids me altogether. For the first time in many years, I feel alone.

I walk into the three-story building I’ve purchased with his money, funds collected from the blood of a thousand victims, images of the men and women I witnessed being held inside of his laboratory lingering in the air. However, no king or queen of infamy ever won a throne by shrinking at the sight of blood. And I, the man who’ll rule the world, intends to do the same.

Today’s auditions will bring in a new group of dancers and performers, men and women chosen from some of the greatest dance companies in the world, all of them vying for a spot in my new company I’ve chosen to name Inamorata. I should feel elated, yet I cannot stop thinking of where the money came from, the hand of a tyrant who gets off on abusing and torturing his people. Nevertheless, I have a job to do. For the moment, my vengeance will have to wait.

Both male and female ballerinas from all over the world arrive for auditions the next day. I’ve chosen my assistants—Paolo, an Italian dancer and top choreographer, and Jefferson, an American who just completed his MBA and is known for his keen sense of International business—carefully, and have turned down about three offers from a few of the dancers in Katerina’s troupe, including her young lover, Mikhail. I will not do a thing to sabotage her company, Diabolique, and that includes stealing members of my former dance troupe.

And then there’s the sleeping beauty I have spent the last month of my life watching over, my contract as Rudolph chooses to call her. Now that I’m back in Milan and moving forward with my plans, I find myself wondering when or if I will ever see her again, which are thoughts I should erase from my mind at once.

Yet still, I want to know
, Will I ever get the chance to gaze into those eyes?

“I think they like you, signore,” Paolo says, nodding his head toward two dancers standing near steps leading up to the stage and glancing my way, bringing my mind back to the auditorium. The taller one of the two women has flaming red hair, strands reminding me of fire. “Ah, but I see the interest is mutual.” Paolo grins, the sweet scent of his cologne overpowering my nostrils and reminding me of a time when another man, someone I struggle to erase from mind every day, had hovered over me as he bent me to his will.

“
Such beauty, Nikolai,” my master teacher and my masked captor had said in his hard accent as his hands explored my body. “I will teach you to use that charm to disarm and destroy your enemy.”

“But I do not want to hurt anyone,” I had answered, fear ladled inside both my voice and my head as my captor-master secured my arms, and then my legs, spreading them apart and attaching them between two metal poles.

“Weakness is not allowed,” he had hissed in my ear, yanking my head back so hard my eyes watered. “The innocent will be lost. Those who embrace vengeance will inherit the world. Always. I will teach you how to tap into the darkness inside of you, and you will learn, or you will suffer.”

“Signor Belikov,” Paolo’s voice calls, pulling me up out of the pit of darkness I had fallen into, something I do now several times a day ever since she moved on ... Adriana, the girl who has eyes to rival the Mediterranean. “Are you all right?” His gaze nervously darts back and forth between my face and hands. Although I have not broken the skin, my knuckles are white from me unknowingly clenching my fists.
But I like the pain. Welcome it. Pain connects me to a darker part of myself, and I thrive inside of the shadows.

“Of course I’m all right. In more ways than one,” I answer, curious about why these two dancers have chosen Inamorata as their new home. I need a distraction, something to take my mind off Alek’s little sister, and if I am not mistaken about the identity of these two women—the Tomzcak sisters, I heard Paolo call them—then they should fit perfectly.

I stand and approach them, my cock as hard as a rod, something that always happens after I slip into one of my episodes; fortunately there is always a willing party ready to help take my pain away. In truth, I am almost certain the monster living inside of me, the demon inserted by a madman years ago, has an insatiable appetite, a dark lust that no human being can ever satisfy. The two women straighten up at once as I head their way, the first gleam of excitement filling their eyes as they glance upon me.

“Signor Belikov, I hope our performance pleased you,” Melody, the taller of the two, says. Although the sisters are blessed in both dance and physical appearance there’s something carnal about the sister speaking to me right now.

“I hate to break this news to you,” I begin, watching the girls exchange nervous glances while they wait for my next words, “but you could’ve done better. I can be generous, however. I guess this performance will be enough to hold a spot.” Turning to each other, they clasp hands and celebrate. Right away, I know exactly what I need in order to satiate the hunger boiling inside me.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Belikov.” Beaming at me, Harmony is barely able to stand still.

“We won’t disappoint you again,” Melody promises, speaking as though she’s finishing up her sister’s thoughts. “We’ll work hard. So very hard.” They start laughing. I’ve always been amazed by twins, two people born of the same DNA; now I have a set employed by me, willing to do anything I ask, no doubt. Yes, these two are prefect for what I need.

“Very well then. I’ll send for you tonight.”

Both girls go silent, their eyes filled with questions at first. Of course Melody grasps the meaning of my words before her sister does, and I can see the expression on her face change, the idea of my suggestion already sinking into her and putting her under my control.

“Like I said, we won’t disappoint you again,” Melody states, holding my gaze.

“Good. Then be prepared and be ready.” I turn and walk away, leaving them whispering behind my back.

“Oh my God. You’re more beautiful than most women,” Harmony says as the two girls make themselves comfortable on my king-sized bed. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I do the same to her fiery strands while her sister busies herself with the MP4 player attached to my surround sound system. This Milanese penthouse doesn’t compare to my main home back in Bellaggio, the one that sits right on top of a section of Lake Como, but sacrificing a bit of extravagance for the sake of bringing my passion to life in Inamorata has been the easiest part of my offerings to Burkenstein.

“I can assure you, I am not a woman. Would you like me to prove this to you?” I pull her body down to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, most definitely,” she answers.

“I will not make it easy. I do not do nice foreplay,” I warn.

“I don’t care. I can handle it.”

“You’ve been warned, my fiery princess.”

She moves toward me and attempts to place her lips on mine. Her sister is busy grazing the skin of my back with her mouth, setting my nerve endings on fire. At once, I grab her wrists.

“Those do not belong to you.”

“Is that right?” she purrs, unaffected as she runs her fingers along the lines of my jaw. “Who’s the lucky girl? Let me guess. Would her name happen to be Adri—”

“Do not dare say her name. Do you understand me?” I say in a measured tone, squeezing the sides of her mouth, forcing her face into a pucker. Fear briefly flickers through her eyes just before it turns into lust. She enjoys being handled like a cavewoman; they always do. When I glimpse the submissive in a partner, I enjoy doing the honor of giving them the domination they crave.

“Apologize,” I order, releasing her mouth.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” she murmurs, running her hands over my bare shoulders.

Behind me, her sister says, “We need to loosen you up a bit, baby. Make you forget.” Why does someone always think they can make me forget my pain? If such a person does exist, then I am fairly certain neither of these two women could handle the job.

“The only thing you can make me forget is the time it takes for me to eat your pussy and come inside of you. Are you game?” I ask, smiling for good measure.

“Wow, gorgeous. Hold back much?” Melody asks.

Lifting her hips, I strip her from the waist down, exposing a mound of gorgeous red hair. True red heads, just as I suspected. Dropping to my knees, I spread her legs wide, pinning her thighs to the mattress while her sister massages my cock. I do believe I am hard enough to ram through a Mack truck. Without another word, I lower my head and devour her pussy, going straight for the hood of her sweet nub.

“Oh God, baby. Your tongue is a demon,” she gasps out, grasping my head and pushing me deeper into her wetness. Behind me, her sister works a skilled tongue—a combination of bites, licks, and kisses—moving her way down my back, where she eventually finds my cock. Circling her lips around it, the warmth of her mouth fills me with so much pressure I almost choke from the double sensations I’m receiving.

At once, Melody’s body begins to shudder underneath me, her orgasm lasting longer than any woman’s I have been with in a long time. I’m impressed and horny, but still unable to shake the image of the woman lying on the table at Burkenstein’s laboratory, my mind taking me underneath the sheet covering her body. That’s when the guilt of what I am doing and who I’m fucking around with settles in and I go soft. These are the two girls who were kicked out their former repertory company for setting up one of Adriana’s friends, which ironically is part of the reason I was so attracted to them in the first place, my way of indirectly hurting Adriana.
You are as sadistic as the bastard who put you here.