You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1) (5 page)

I go and sit on the couch opposite her. I feel dazed and numb.

Her teasing expression changes. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asks.

‘I think my sister is missing somewhere in Australia.’

‘What?’ she screams dramatically, only for once it’s not over the top melodrama. I’m screaming inside.

I cover my cheeks with both my hands. ‘It looks as if she has vanished into thin air. Her phone is turned off or dead, her Facebook page hasn’t been updated, and she never turned up at the bed and breakfast she had booked in to.’

Stella sits up and switches off the TV. ‘Have you called the police?’

I shake my head in a daze. ‘Not yet. I just found out and I can’t bring myself to believe it is not all just a stupid mistake or misunderstanding.’

‘Tell me everything,’ she demands.

I pour out all I know so far. I can hardly believe the words that I am uttering, but to my surprise, Stella doesn’t scream or do the usual exaggerated theatrics.

‘Let’s think about this,’ she says with a frown. ‘If she had met with an accident, she would have been identified by now and your mother would have received a call. Best case scenario: she has gone on a walkabout and lost her phone. The other two options aren’t so pretty. She’s been taken by a serial killer, or she has been kidnapped by one of these gangs that sell women.’

I take a great gasping breath. ‘Serial killer?’

‘OK, I’ll admit that that’s more likely in America and not the outback, but she could have been taken by someone in the underworld!’

‘Underworld?’ I repeat stupidly.

She looks at me with big eyes. ‘For the sex trade. I’m always watching movies about how they lure away young girls who are on vacation  and sell them at these crazy auctions to super rich men.’

I cover my mouth with my hand. Silent tears escape from my eyes and roll down my face. I can’t help it. I cannot imagine someone as gentle as Daisy kidnapped and held captive somewhere. It would destroy her.

Stella scoots forward and grasps my knee. ‘I’m not saying she has, but if she has, the police might not be able to help. Even if we go to them right now, with the time difference, there might not be much they can or will do. We can go in the morning. Right now, we ask Zane for help!’

My eyes widen. ‘Zane?’

‘Not Zane personally, but Noah. I overheard him talking the other day. Zane has contacts in Australia, and if I am not mistaken he has some kind of office in Adelaide. If Daisy has been taken by anyone from the underworld, Zane is the best person to locate her.’ She snatches her phone from the coffee table and dials it. While it is ringing she looks at me, and smiles encouragingly.

‘Hey, Noah’ she says. ‘I need your help.’ He says something and she nods even though he cannot see her. ‘It’s my roommate.’ She glances at me. ‘Yeah, that one. It was actually my uniform.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Anyway, her sister’s gone missing while backpacking with her friend in Alice Springs, Australia. Do you think you can put the word out and see if anyone knows or has heard of her?’ She stops to listen. ‘You have to ask Zane first? Right. OK.’ She directs a look at me while talking to him. ‘Can I send a photo of her to your phone?’

I nod vigorously and immediately send the photo to Stella’s phone.

‘Yes, I can do that right now. How long before you get back to me? OK, we’ll be here. Thanks a lot, Noah. I really appreciate this.’

She kills the call and looks at me. ‘He’ll have to ask Zane first, but he thinks there should be no problem putting the word out.’

‘How long before he asks Zane?’

‘Zane’s there now. He’s doing it right away.’ She sees my message and forwards the photo on to Noah.

I bite my lip. Part of me is utterly terrified for my sister and yet another part of me is suddenly wildly alive at the mention of Zane.

‘I’m going to get you a brandy. You look as white as a sheet.’

She pours us each a large shot, and I chuck mine down my throat. It burns all the way to my belly. Nothing feels real.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper to Stella.

‘You’d do the same for me,’ she says, cracking a smile.

The phone rings and we both jump like startled cats. She picks up her phone, looks at the screen and announces, ‘Noah.’

‘Hello,’ she says, listens, then says incredulously, ‘He does?’ She listens again while looking at me with a surprised expression.

‘What?’ I mouth silently.

She raises her palm to indicate I should wait until she finishes. ‘OK, I’ll bring her now.’ She ends the call and looks at me, her eyes as big as dinner plates.

‘Zane wants to see you,
now.
’

Dahlia Fury

W
e take a taxi to Zane’s house. The trip is almost surreal, winding through the familiar streets, my heart filled with anxiety for my sister, and something totally inappropriate—throbbing excitement at the prospect of seeing the Russian again.

My hands are shaking so much I can’t even separate and pull out the correct notes from my wallet. Stella takes my purse out of my useless hands and does it herself. We step onto the pavement and the taxi drives off. I look up at the impressive façade of Zane’s home. There are three floors above ground and every one is lit up.

Stella looks sideways at me. ‘Ready?’ she asks.

It’s not cold, but I shiver. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

She straightens my collar and says in that English way of hers, ‘Chin up. You’ll be all right, duckie.’

We walk up the white stone steps and Stella rings the bell.

Noah opens the tall door and we enter the grand hallway with its black and white chequered floor, massive glittering three-tiered chandelier, and its curving double staircase. How different this place seemed to me on my first trip here. Then I went down the stairs, vaguely irritated to have been manipulated into the situation I found myself in, to that small, dim room, and learned how little I knew myself.

‘He’s through there,’ Noah says to me, pointing to a door down a corridor.

Even he looks different. I had seen just a big goon the last time. Now he seems like a helpful figure that I want to envelop in a great hug and thank him profusely. ‘Thank you for your help,’ I say guiltily.

He nods gravely. ‘No worries. When you’re finished come and find us in the kitchen through there.’ He points a stubby finger to another corridor in the opposite direction.

Stella squeezes my arm. ‘Good luck,’ she whispers, a deep longing swimming in her eyes. She wants to be the one going in to see Zane.

‘Thank you, Stella,’ I murmur gratefully. I know how much it must cost her.

I straighten my shoulders and walk down the corridor. Every step I take makes me feel more and more jittery. My back is rigid, my insides are all twisted into hard knots, and my heart is banging like it’s about to burst. I stand in front of the door and turn my head around nervously. Stella and Noah are still standing where I left them. Stella nods encouragingly and mouths, go on.

I raise my hand and knock on the door.

‘Enter,’ the voice I have wet-dreamed about and longed to hear again, calls out.

I turn the knob and push the heavy door open. It is a large cavernous room, but I can only see Zane.  My breath catches, and as soon as my eyes find his I feel myself exhale. Aching and weakness roll through my body. I feel as if I have not really been alive the last three months.

My eyes greedily drink him in. He is sitting behind a desk and is wearing a black shirt, the first two buttons distractingly undone, with a finely tailored dove grey jacket.  His hair is slightly shorter than I remember.  Although his hands are lying on the desk top, relaxed and loose, his face is expressionless, his eyes glittering like blue stars. Suddenly I think of him the way I last saw him. Naked and ferociously finger fucking me. What little control I have slips away and heat rushes up my neck and face.

He says nothing. Simply leans back in his chair and watches me. Palpable tension starts rising between us and he allows the feeling to build. It is feral and primal. I get lost in its hypnotic pull, and for a few seconds I forget why I am really here. I swallow hard.
Get a grip, Dahlia. You’re here for Daisy. Laughing, freckle faced Daisy. Not to fall into the trap of his attraction.

Closing the door I walk into the cage, OK, room. My knees are shaky. I feel quite unsteady. I stop a couple of yards away from him and watch his fingers, long and manicured, pluck at his collar.

‘We meet again,
rybka,
’ he says.

‘You said you could help find my sister.’ For some strange reason my voice sounds shrill and accusing.

His eyebrows rise. ‘I said I’d try. I could put the word out, but no promises.’

‘That’s good enough for me,’ I soothe quickly.

‘Sit down and tell me what happened,’ he invites politely.

I walk up to one of the chairs opposite him, sink gratefully into it before haltingly telling him the whole story. It’s hard to focus.  My thoughts keep recalling his touch and the words he said to me those months ago.  He listens with narrowed eyes. Sometimes his eyes slip away to roam my body which makes me falter, and makes those luminous eyes return to my face.

‘So do you think you can help?’ I ask hopefully.

‘If I can’t find her nobody else can,’ he says quietly.

‘Oh, thank you. Thank you so much,’ I gush, feeling like shit for all the horrid things I have repeatedly accused him of. Fortunately, it all happened in my head.

He keeps his eyes focused on me. ‘I will help, but nothing is for free, rybka. If I give you something you want, then you must give me something I want.’

My mouth falls open. It is like looking at a beautiful butterfly and having it suddenly morph into a wasp and sting you in the ass.

‘What do you want from me?’ I ask, my voice, a whisper.

‘You.’

His face is stoic. I stare at him blankly. This can’t be real. Did I just hear him say,
you
? As in me. Dahlia Fury. Am I even awake? ‘What?’

‘For one month I want you to be mine. Totally and utterly. Day and night. To submit to me and to do anything I ask of you.’

I prevent my jaw from hitting the ground. ‘Just to clarify. You want me to be your slave?’

His lips curve into a wicked grin. ‘Sexual slave. There is a big difference.’

Yeah, I’m awake. A misogynist through and through. And to think I felt guilty just now about my thoughts! ‘Are you fucking with me?’ I ask. My voice is pretty mild considering the murderous nature of my thoughts.

‘No,’ he says calmly.

‘I have a boyfriend, OK?’ I say.

He shrugs, casual and uncaring. ‘Then I hope he is an understanding man,’ he says.

I shake my head in disbelief. ‘What is wrong with you? No man is going to understand something like this.’

‘Then I’m afraid you’ll have to choose.’ He pauses. ‘Boyfriend or sister?’

My anger deflates quickly and soundlessly. Daisy. Laughing, freckled little Daisy. ‘What about my work?’ I ask. I feel as if I have been anesthetized.

His jaw is as hard as granite. ‘Take a month off.’

‘They won’t allow me to do that,’ I protest uselessly.

‘You decide. Work or sister?’

‘You’re a monster,’ I accuse numbly.

He nods. ‘Thank you.’

‘That was
not
a compliment.’

He lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug. ‘Maybe not in your world, but it is in mine.’

I take a step back. ‘You’re mad.’

He seems genuinely surprised. ‘Because I want you to be my sexual slave for a month?’

‘Yes. What a horrendous idea. In this day and age.’

‘Would it be so bad to submit to me?’ he asks softly.

I feel my insides begin to tremble. I clasp my hands together so hard my nails dig into my flesh. ‘I … I could be with you for a month … as an equal.’

He shakes his head. ‘That would not be acceptable.’

I scowl. ‘Why do I have to be in such a demeaning position?’

‘Because that is what I want from you,’ he says coolly.

I feel a rush of rage flood over me.  It makes me feel giddy. If only I could stand up and walk out. How I ever wasted three months mooning over this unfeeling ass was beyond me. He says nothing, just watches me silently. The silence grows.  ‘How can you be so evil?  My sister has done nothing to you!’  More silence.  

I pause, then quietly sigh.  ‘I’m not into any kinky stuff.’

‘How would you know what you’re into? You’ve never tried anything but straight sex.’

‘How do you know what I have and haven’t tried?’ I parry, although he is astonishingly spot on.

He laughs. ‘Let’s put it this way. If I do something to you and you even look for a second like you’re not enjoying it, I’ll stop immediately.’

‘Thanks for offering to be so considerate, but I’m
not
going to be your sexual slave,’ I say sarcastically.

‘Then we have no deal,’ he says abruptly.

I spring to my feet. I can no longer sit still. ‘I don’t believe this. You’re just revolting. What kind of person are you?’

‘I am an opportunist. I see an opportunity, I take it.’

I place my hands on the desk and lean forward. I thought looming over him would give me more power, but I am in for a shock. He tilts his chin upwards until his eyes are slits and locks gazes with me. Inside the piercing blue orbs, I see a bright, cold universe that goes on forever. It is so pitiless and ruthless that it makes me jerk back in horror.

I feel a slow panic shake me. How could I have imagined or fantasized that I could ever be anything but a temporary toy to a man like this? He lives a life exponentially faster than mine, in a kingdom of his making.

‘You will be required to submit to a medical exam and be declared disease free first,’ he says. It is the great sales trick. Don’t ask the customer if he wants to buy it, ask him what color he wants it in or when he wants it delivered. Assume he has already agreed. Zane is talking about the details as if I have already agreed.

‘And what happens if I am carrying some communicable disease?’

‘Then I will have to protect myself.’

I draw a shaky breath. ‘Will you take an exam too?’

One side of his mouth curves upwards. He is amused. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ I demand curiously.

‘Partly because I am cleaner than a newborn baby, and partly because I fucking make the rules in this relationship. I tell you what to do and you do it.’

I shake my head, still unable to believe what has happened to my ordinary night out. Where did all this come from? It feels like I have fallen down a hole into a parallel universe where unthinkable, inconceivable things happen as if they are the most normal things ever.

‘Are you on some form of contraception?’ he asks.

See what I mean about unthinkable, inconceivable things. ‘No,’ I say curtly.

He nods easily. ‘No problem. The doctor will prescribe it for you.’

‘I can’t believe you need to force a woman like this,’ I say in a last ditch effort to shame him.

‘If it makes you feel better to pretend I am forcing you then go ahead and think that.’

‘You don’t call this,’ I wave my hand between us, ‘
blackmail
forcing me?’

‘I’m not forcing you,
rybka
. You have a choice. You can always say no.’ His voice is silky and full of slick charm.

‘What the hell kind of choice is it if saying no means I may never see my sister again?’ I ask bitterly.

‘I admit, it’s a difficult choice,’ he concedes, ‘but it’s still a choice.’ His expression is supremely indifferent and unaffected.

‘You’re sick,’ I hiss.

He stands, his chair wheeling back noiselessly on the carpet, and I find myself backing away. I realize what I am doing and stop moving. Nervously I watch him walk towards me. God, he is so much bigger than Mark. I gulp down the rush of irrational fear when he towers over me. He is standing so close I feel the heat coming from his body and smell his lust for domination.

He lifts a hand and brushes a strand of hair away from my eyes. My skin immediately reacts to his touch. It starts to heat up, tingle and burn. I suppress the insane desire to clutch his shirtfront and jerk him towards me. It is disgusting and I’ll never understand it, but I am filled with the burning need to taste him. With an iron will I force myself to stay still.

‘What color are your eyes?’ he murmurs.

‘Hazel,’ I say in a voice that sounds like I have been hypnotized.

‘Hazel? No. They are like chameleons. They change shade according to what you wear and what you are feeling. They are the color of caramelized sugar when you are angry. They glow yellow like a wolf’s eyes when you are turned on, and they are dragon green when you climax.’

I flush from head to toe.

He claws his hand in the hair at my nape and grasps a fistful. ‘Why do you hesitate? You know you want it.’

‘To be your sexual slave?’ My voice is hoarse.

‘To lose control. To have dirty animal sex. To come so hard you can’t stop.’

He holds me firmly by my hair and lowers his face until his mouth is an inch away from mine. I stop breathing. He sniffs my cheek like a wild animal.

‘He left you unsatisfied tonight,’ he growls.

I jerk my face away. Away from the insidious warmth of his breath. My scalp stings, but the really scary thing is I want ‘it’. I want everything he is talking about. I want it with a kind of mad desperation.

‘My sister,’ I gasp desperately.