Nausea woke Deva, followed by the sound of thunder resonating inside her skull. Disoriented, it was the coldness of concrete against her cheek that made her realize she was lying on the ground. Her body felt sluggish. When she tried to move her arms, pain reverberated through her entire being.
Strangely, the pain lifted some of the haze inside her mind, enough to open her eyes. Concrete floor, concrete wall, and a light bulb barely illuminating what seemed to be a stinking gray cube she was held in.
Just turning her head made her dizzy, but she tried to sit anyway. Memories started flooding in. The hospital, the attack, Semyon. Sasha!
Deva pushed herself into a sitting position and waited for the room to be still again. She was definitely alone. No window. Only a door. It was difficult to not succumb to fear at that point. Where was she? Where was Sasha? Deva touched her pocket to confirm that her phone was gone. No dumb villains for her it seemed.
Crawling toward the wall, she was finally able to make her legs work until she was standing again. She paused for a second before testing her equilibrium. Satisfied, Deva stumbled toward the door. Again, no surprise to find it locked. She started pounding on it with her fists.
“Hey! Anybody there? Let me out!!” Her screams echoed through her small cell, amplifying her headache. For a long while she continued pounding, more and more to keep her mind occupied and not melt into a puddle of panic and anxiety.
After a long moment, her throat raw from screaming and out of breath, she looked at the bare space around her in despair. Walking to the farthest wall from the door, she let herself slide down into a small ball to ward off the damp and cold that was slowly seeping into her bones.
No sound apart from her own breathing. And no thoughts apart what a fool she had been. And how Aleksei would be angry with her. More than angry. Thoughts of him in her mind, his memory, the very high probability that she would never see him again almost brought fresh tears to her eyes. It was impossible to deny when she was facing the greatest danger of all, if not the end of her life. She was in love with Aleksei Voronov. It was past lust or attachment. Deva had lost her heart to the Russian. The mob enforcer. The cage fighter. The sarcastic ass. The tender lover. The one she shouldn’t want at all.
Whatever might happen next, she wished he could forgive her.
Lost in her thoughts, it took her a moment to realize that noises were coming from outside her door. Scrambling to her feet, Deva braced herself for who might come in.
Semyon was the first one to appear. Followed by two other men. One of them from the Storm Wayfarers MC. A rival club she recognized immediately from the patches, and the one that her father had wanted to make an alliance with ten years ago through her marriage.
The third man she recognized from the hospital. One of the thugs who brutalized Sasha.
“Ah! I see you’ve come around Deva. Or is it, Victoria? I tend to have trouble remembering names.”
There was no way she was giving him any satisfaction by answering his question. “Where is Sasha?”
“Oh, she’s not here anymore. Personally, I would worry about my own fate, if I were you. Speaking of fate, you surely remember Damon Evans.”
Deva’s eyes returned to the man blocking the entrance to her cell. Desperately jogging her memory, trying to remember the face with the name, there was something familiar about him. The tall stature, wide shoulders, blond hair, and goatee, pale green eyes, so much like a cat. He made her think of a musketeer. A funny and very inappropriate thought that led to another. And that new one made her blink, taking her back to a long time ago. To the moment her father had announced he had traded her to a member of the Storm Wayfarers MC and showed her the picture of a young man with emerald cat-eyes.
“Ah, I see you recognized the man you stood up at the altar. Isn’t it ironic that both of you are still single? Your father and Mr. Evans, who has been named the president of his club now, are willing to renew the agreement you broke. Isn’t it wonderful? A real fairy tale, don’t you think, Deva?”
Panic seized her, her eyes traveling from Semyon to Damon, trying to decide who would be the lesser evil. There was something about Damon Evans, the way he looked at her with a stony expression that made her think twice. At least, with Damon Evans, she had a possible way out, with less physical torture and pain. Probably. And if she played her cards well, maybe even a possible escape.
Semyon was on a roll, enjoying the situation way too much. “And just to make sure you don’t flee, it has been decided that the ceremony will take place after the wedding night. Isn’t that romantic?”
The situation was so bizarre, Deva didn’t know if it was a joke or not. “You mean the rape before the ceremony. You are insane.”
“Not quite. It just seals the deal, so to speak.”
Deva looked at Semyon and then at Damon. “Here?”
“Well, again, flight risk. And Mr. Evans has agreed to this inconvenience too. So, we’ll leave you two alone.”
Semyon gave her a sickening smile before chuckling with his partner and closing the door on them.
The nightmare was turning darker and darker by the minute, with the final click of the lock sealing her destiny.
Damon Evans’s leather-clad body seemed to swallow the entire space, making it difficult for her to breathe.
Both of them remained on the opposite sides of the cell, Deva so strung up, even though it was clear she was never going to be able to flee or overpower the man. So that was it, she was going to be raped.
When Damon moved in her direction, she yelped, even though she swore she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing fear. Her only hope would be for it to be quick, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
As she took a fighting stance, Damon lifted his hands.
“Calm down, I have no intention of raping you.”
Deva gave him a half-laugh. “And you want me to believe you?”
The MC president had the decency to put his back against the wall and keep his hands lifted.
“I have never raped a woman in my life and I ain’t gonna start today.”
Despite her terror, she laughed somberly. “Ten years made you see the light? How convenient!”
The man’s face turned fierce. “I was in the same spot as you were back then. I didn’t have any choice either.”
“Fancy you, Damon Evans, the victim of a forced marriage. We should write a book about your struggles.”
“Victoria...”
Now she roared. “Deva. My name is Deva!”
Damon sighed, racking his fingers in his hair in frustration. “Sorry. Deva. Many things happened, but we don’t have a lot of time. I know you don’t trust me. But right now, it’s the only place where we don’t have eyes on us. They are probably behind the door listening, but can’t hear what we are saying. We’re going to act as if I’m raping you. And I hope we can be convincing enough.”
Deva shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Let’s say you’re not the only one trying to figure out what’s going on with your father. And the Bratva just gave me an opening I never thought I had to end this madness.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mex is acting erratically. He’s dangerous. Did you know he has almost turned three other MCs against his club? Into a state war? It was a close call and contained quickly.”
“No, I didn’t know. When did it start?”
Damon seemed to ponder on that for a moment. “I’d say it started one year after I became president. So, five years now.”
And from Deva’s calculations, it coincided with the probable start of Finch’s plan.
“And you suddenly trust the Bratva, Evans? And what if I tell you that you may be dealing with someone even more devious. Jamieson Finch. He’s probably the one behind my father’s sudden weariness of peace and the Bratva reaching out to you to take me. Finch seems to be pulling the strings and would do anything to keep my father on his side. Thus, the call about your runaway bride.”
“Deva, honestly, I only want the threat from your father to end, and I don’t give a fuck about Finch.”
Deva shook her head. “Semyon will ask something from you for that favor.”
“I have survived so far, I can stall him awhile longer. I know you faked your death for a good reason and when the Bratva approached me, I found a way of saving you and maybe a way to...”
And it clicked in her head. “A way to the Rows, isn’t it? And use my gratitude to either make sure my father stops disturbing the force or kill him? Why not a merger?”
Damon bit back a smile. “I’m not against war when there is a purpose in it. Listen, I don’t mind explaining everything, but the situation is volatile. We must get out.”
If there was an alliance to be made, it seemed that Damon Evans was the way to go. For now, at least. “I understand. Let’s talk later. What do you need me to do?”
Damon looked as if he was bracing himself for what was to come. “What about we tear at our clothes some, I’ll unbuckle my pants, you scratch me and yell like hell?”
This surreal situation couldn’t get weirder, but she wasn’t to pass up a way to get out of there. Even if it meant making a deal with the devil.
“Okay, let’s get down with it.”