35
Oksana
I was sitting at the computer in the office, working on Vasilije’s Christmas present, when the alarm system chirped and the front door groaned open. My heart stopped. Only a few people had codes, and Whitney and Vasilije always came in through the garage.
My hand shook as I jerked open the bottom drawer and palmed the 9mm. If it was Goran who’d just entered the house, Vasilije would never make it home from the dealership in time. Hadn’t he revoked his uncle’s code?
The man who walked past the office doorway stopped and backtracked, swinging his gaze into the room to focus on me. I slowly lowered the gun back into the drawer and pushed it closed.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
Luka Markovic looked like a serious, formal version of his younger brother.
“Oksana,” I said, standing from my chair.
His eyes scrutinized and judged every inch of me, and his eyebrow crept up with displeasure. “I don’t think my brother’s going to be happy to hear his staff was using his computer while he’s not here.”
His . . . what? I stumbled over the words. “I’m not staff. I’m his . . .” Partner? “Girlfriend.”
Luka didn’t blink. He just stared.
A female voice came from beyond the doorway. “Oh my God, Vasilije put up a Christmas tree?” The owner of the voice stepped into view. She looked similar in age to Vasilije. Her brown hair was swept back in a ponytail and her cheeks were rosy from the cold outside, and as she unbuttoned her wool coat, her hands slowed. She looked at me, curious.
Luka’s hard expression made him seem even older than the twenty-eight years I knew he was. Vasilije didn’t talk about his brother much. He was an accountant who preferred numbers to people, all except for Addison, the girl who stood beside him.
She was pretty in an effortless way, but I could barely look at her. I’d had nothing to do with her family’s murder, but I felt crushing guilt by proxy. My father had done that. He’d ordered the horrific death of her parents and brother. If I’d known before it happened, would I have been able to do anything to stop it? Would her family still be alive?
“Vasilije didn’t mention a girlfriend.” Luka’s tone was an accusation.
“Well, Luka,” I said pointedly, “he didn’t mention you would be coming by either.”
Did a smile just flit across Addison’s lips? It vanished instantly. His eyes squeezed down into slits, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, my phone on the desktop rang, silencing him. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know who it was. Vasilije was the only person who called.
I picked it up and tapped the screen. “Hello?”
“I just got an alert,” he said in a blur. “Someone used my brother’s code to get in the house.” There was noise in the background like a car door slamming and an engine starting. Was he rushing to try to get to the house? “Get a gun, go upstairs, and lock yourself in my closet. The door’s reinforced and—”
“Vasilije, it’s okay. Your brother was the one who used the code.”
“What the fuck? Luka’s there?” He made a sound of exasperation. “Put him on the phone.”
I extended it out to the man staring at me. “Vasilije wants to talk to you.”
He crossed the room, took the phone from me, and held it to his ear. “There’s a Russian girl in the office, claiming to be your girlfriend.” Whatever Vasilije said in response made Luka soften. He was still stiff and on edge, but seemed less adversarial toward me. “Addison’s on break,” he continued, “and I got time off. So, surprise. We caught a flight this morning, and we’re here for Christmas.” He looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, we’re going. He didn’t leave me much choice.”
Was Luka talking about Goran’s party?
As the phone conversation continued between brothers, I sensed Addison’s gaze on me, but I stared at the pattern in the rug. Would Vasilije tell his brother the truth about who I was? Would he tell her?
I’d been with him for five weeks. The wound I’d put in our trust had scabbed over and was healing, faster each day. I looked forward to his days off from work, when we could spend more time together. I enjoyed it when he took me along on nights he carried out his uncle’s orders. On paper, I’d thought he was a thug who spent all his time trying to convince others he was a badass . . . but I was wrong.
Vasilije didn’t put any effort into who he was. It came as naturally as breathing.
I couldn’t wait to help him carry out his plan for Goran, and hoped when the time came, he’d be there for me.
The conversation ended and the phone was handed back to me.
“We’re starving,” Luka announced. “We’ll have lunch and get to know each other better.” Like Vasilije, his tone made it clear this wasn’t a request.
♪
Even though I’d cleared my stuff out of the green striped bedroom, Addison and Luka took the smaller guest bedroom beside it, which didn’t have an attached bathroom. He was obviously the one in charge of their relationship, but when he’d picked up their luggage and she’d whispered, “not the green room,” he’d nodded instantly.
We went out to dinner with them. I sat beside Vasilije at the table, his hand resting on my leg beneath the tablecloth, and did my best to act natural. I was the only one in the group who hadn’t been in the basement when he’d killed Dimitrije. The sickest part of me hated that I wasn’t bound to Vasilije like they were by the event.
If everything went right, soon I would be.
Luka and Addison went to bed early, and as Vasilije and I sat in the living room, watching a movie, a soft, feminine cry rang out from their room. Was that . . . pleasure? I turned to him with wide eyes and he shrugged.
“When they lived here, it was like that all the time. I found a bunch of shit when they moved out. I guess my brother’s a kinky fucker.”
I blinked and flattened my voice with sarcasm. “But you’re so normal.”
He grinned. “I’m not normal, but neither are you, Oksana. You’ve got my bite marks to prove it.”
I shivered with satisfaction, and watched his eyes pool with heat. He liked giving me pain and pleasure, almost as much as I liked receiving it. We didn’t make it to the end of the movie. He shut it off, dragged me upstairs, and gave me a blistering session. He encouraged me to be loud, probably wanting to one-up his brother, and I was happy to help.
Christmas Eve came too quickly. After lunch, which I ate hardly any of, I put on the silver cocktail dress Vasilije had bought me and got ready for the party. Nerves rattled in my stomach. On top of what I was going to do, I was about to be surrounded by Markovics.
I hadn’t seen Goran since the day Vasilije had punched him.
I was putting on a second coat of mascara, swiping the brush over my lashes as Vasilije appeared in the bathroom mirror. He wore his dark gray suit and a bright red tie, and my knees went weak. He looked so good like that. Deceptively dangerous. His smile was disarming, and if you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t believe there was a gun tucked inside his suit.
“You look fucking hot.” His gaze lingered over my bare legs, then worked up my body. The dress was decorated in faceted clear beads, making me shimmer and sparkle. It dipped low in the front. Although I didn’t have much cleavage, it was flattering.
“Thank you,” I said, capping the mascara and straightening. “So do you.”
He waved my comment off like I was being silly. “Maybe we’ll sneak off after dinner and I’ll fuck you in my uncle’s bed.”
Vasilije wasn’t joking. It was absolutely his style.
“I’d like to stay far away from his bed, thank you.” I faced him and smoothed my hands down my skirt, which was a few inches shorter than I would have liked. He’d said it was necessary.
A sly smile warmed his lips. “By the way, I’ve never brought a girl to meet the family. Be prepared. My aunt is nosy. People are going to be all up in our business.”
I deflated a little. I didn’t want any attention on us, but then again, Vasilije had dressed me like a fucking disco ball.
He insisted on driving so John could have the holiday off. We piled into a silver Mercedes-Benz, and the air in the car was tense as we got on the expressway. Luka and Addison didn’t like Goran much either, and the mood was somber as we headed to the ‘party.’
Vasilije’s home was a mansion, but Goran’s was a palace. The estate was a sprawling compound tucked behind a formidable gate. We pulled up in the circle drive, got out of the car, and a valet darted behind the wheel.
I was so far removed from the poor Christmases my mother and I had celebrated, it was disorienting. The interior of the house was lavish. An enormous tree, decorated in so much gold it was more ornaments than pine, was centered on the back wall of the spacious living area. Someone took my coat, and when Vasilije’s arm draped around my waist, I shrank into him.
“We’re going to want to leave as soon as possible,” Luka muttered to his brother under his breath.
“Fine by me,” Vasilije said, moving us deeper into the house and toward the herd of people near the tree.
There were servers floating around the party, dressed in black and white uniforms, and carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres. On Christmas Eve. It had to cost a fortune for this extravagant event. As I’d assumed, most of his family frowned at me as soon as Vasilije uttered my name. I sensed them whispering behind our backs, and although I didn’t feel shame, I was annoyed.
I cared about Vasilije.
I didn’t want them looking down on him because of me.
We mingled for a long while, and I started to grow nervous. We hadn’t seen Goran all night. I leaned into Vasilije and asked it as casually as I could. “Where’s your uncle?”
Vasilije gestured to the kitchen.
At just that moment, the crowd of people parted and I got a peek at the current king of the Markovic empire. He must have sensed my gaze, because he zeroed in on me and delivered the same look he’d given me last time.
Lust mixed with violence.
“Fuck,” Vasilije said under his breath. “Let’s get this over with.”