Madness (Revenge Series Book 3) (19 page)

Cubby gives me a raised eyebrow and a small smirk then replies, “I dismantled the main server. I’m not sure how long it will be out, but this is our time to make the move inside.”

He doesn’t have to say another word. I am ready to get Stravinsky in my grasp. Eight long, agonizing years I spent in prison, five of them with this revenge simmering under the surface.

I turn toward the door then run out into the night with Cubby on my tail, firing as we run. Bodies run toward us. Bodies fall down. We have the upper hand now. We are in. A guard has left the backdoor wide open for us, and we open the door and step over the threshold. Nothing will stop me now.

Nothing will take me away from seeing Stravinsky die the rightful death he deserves. It will be worse than Boris’s and twice as long as Vlad’s. Our journey ends here, and it ends with us covered in blood. He will feel every second of it, and I will revel in every vengeful moment as I bring pain like only a Petrov can deliver.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
O
NE

Josslyn

August 25, 2015 11:04 p.m.

T
he large wooden door opens. I am escorted inside by Magda followed by and her entourage of men. My heart is pounding inside my chest. I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit how terrified I am. I know why I’m here, but I don’t know what will happen once I’m left alone with the man who purchased me. However, I can’t show them how I really feel. I need to remain strong.

Magda guides me across the large space and over to a dining table located in the middle of the room. The room is vast. The ceilings are vaulted, appearing to be endless until you finally connect your eyes to the top, you see a very intricate mural painted across the entire space. The blood red color follows you everywhere. From the wallpaper to the furniture and rugs under my feet, it is all the same deep shade of crimson. The gold accents are plugged into the space, giving it a very luxurious feel. It’s one of the most elegant yet strange rooms I have ever seen, almost womb-like, warm and red. I can almost feel the devastation that has happened inside these four walls. And I wonder if everything is blood red for a reason. Does that make it easier to hide the pain inflicted by the man I will soon meet?

“Here, darling,” Magda says, breaking my attention from the ornate fixtures and plush couches.

She stands behind a dark wooden chair and pulls it out, motioning for me to sit. I do and look over the large table holding twenty chairs around the sides. However, the giant glass bowl holding luscious black cherries and a bottle of champagne with two glasses tell me it will only be me and one man sitting here.

The smell of the sweet fruit awakens my stomach. I can’t remember the last time I ate, and I want nothing more than to shove the entire bowl of cherries in my mouth. I don’t know if they are poisoned, though. Until this is over, I don’t think I can swallow a single ounce of food. Besides, my stomach is twisting from the frightened anxiousness growing by the second.

I put my hands in my lap and act like the lady I’m supposed to when you are wearing a dress this elegant. My breaths begin to slow as I make myself relax enough to think straight. I think about my life since this all started, how a perusal of one criminal has taken me on a journey of the worst kind. I have been shot at, abducted, kidnapped, and ridiculed. For any normal human being, this may be the point where one thinks of self-termination, getting your misery over with. For me, I don’t feel that way at all. I feel more alive. Of course, some things have been awful, but I also got to do some amazing things.

I was able to settle a score when I hit Vlad with the leg of the table, killing him. I have stayed in elegant hotels, traveled around the world, and dressed in the finest threads. Throughout the good and bad, I got to do all of this with a killer at my side … with Nikolai.

He’s dangerous. The mystery inside his eyes gives off a darkness that would scare a normal individual, yet it doesn’t frighten me. It attracts me. From the moment I connected my sights with his, I knew there was something brewing deep inside. Our quarry has scarred us similarly. We both lost our families and a portion of ourselves because of that man. And because of that, I understand Nikolai. This is why I’m not frightened of him.

When you look beyond his frigid blue eyes, you find yourself wading around inside a black soul. However, there is only darkness there because he has never been shown any other way to function. Perhaps this is what I can give him once we meet up again. Perhaps I can give him a little bit of light. I just hope I survive long enough to be given that chance.

I snap my head up from the table when the door in the corner of the room opens and in steps a man. He is tall and trim, not what I expected at all. His hair is a shimmery white, but it doesn’t make him look old; it makes him look sophisticated.

He moves through the room slowly, stalking his way over to me with the danger of a criminal and as predatory as a tiger. As he gets closer, I get a better view of his face. He is older than me, maybe in his fifties, but it’s hard to tell. His jaw is cut and squared sharply. The corners of his mouth come up to a peak, twisting his lips up in a dangerous smile. However, it’s his eyes that tell the true story. They are black and twinkle with a sadistic gleam. To the outsider, he may appear good-looking, but I have seen that very look before. It houses a side of crazy that no sane person would subject himself or herself to. I soon realize this is not going to be easy. Not in the slightest.

He stands at my side and motions for me to get up with his fingers. I look in the other direction, blatantly ignoring his request.

I hear a small huff come from him before his crushing grip secures around my arm. My skin burns as he squeezes my bicep, jerking me to my feet. I stumble on my heels yet remain upright.

I turn toward him. I can’t show him I’m afraid. I have to be bold and strong. Therefore, I awaken my own newly found darkness and tap into its strength. I think of Nikolai and the determination he possesses. I think about how he is never scared when he faces danger. No, he is brave and strong. That is who I need to be right now.

I square my shoulders, meeting the man eye to eye. Then I murder him with a single glare. He only smiles in return.

I don’t crack my tough façade, but on the inside, I can feel the evil this man possesses.

“Tell me your name.” His voice is as dark as his eyes, sending chills down my spine.

“Fuck you,” I boldly return, knowing that is going to award me with pain.

The madness flashes in his eyes. He leans in closer, almost touching me, and the grip he had on my arm is now moved to my cheeks. He doesn’t smile; he digs his menacing stare deep into me as the pain in my jaw heightens.

Through clenched teeth, he demands again, “Tell me your name.”

I partially concede, knowing this pain won’t end until I say something. “Amelia.”

A smile snakes across his face. He lets go of me and pushes me back in the chair. Then he walks around to the opposite side of the table and pulls the champagne from the bucket of ice. The cork pops, causing me to jump, the sense of terror raking down my spine.

He pours the two glasses and sets them in front of us. Then the stranger moves around to the head of the table, unbuttons his suit jacket, and sits beside me. Each move is precise, plotted, and planned and eerily reminds me of Nikolai. This man is clearly the father of all of Nikolai’s moves.

He picks several cherries from the bowl then places them on a plate before setting them down in front of me.

I do nothing. I keep my hands in my lap and my eyes trained on him, watching as he plates some cherries for himself then puts the succulent fruit to his mouth.

His teeth pull the bud from the stem, and he chews the fruit then swallows the seed and all. He repeats this action several more times while I merely observe.

I didn’t notice initially, perhaps on account of my twisting nerves, but he is wearing gloves. Black leather covers his hands, and I find it strange—a mannerism similar to Nikolai. Why? Why would he keep his gloves on?

Before I can really answer that question, the brooding man breaks the silence.

“Amelia, that’s a lovely name. However, I don’t think it suits you.”

I only look at him, ignoring the statement. To me, he has no bearing.

“Where are you from, Amelia?”

My heart thuds wildly again when I think about the fake identification Nikolai had made for me. I mentally scan the license, looking for the address, and remember it mirrors Nikolai’s.

“New York,” I snap.

“Aw, New York. I’ve always enjoyed New York.” He takes a sip from his glass and savors the beverage. “I lived there for a while back in the nineties. Whereabouts did you live in the city?”

“Manhattan,” I lie, knowing that is what’s listed on my ID.

“Yes, Manhattan is a nice place to live, but I never really liked that part of the city. I was always partial to Little Odessa myself.”

My gut sinks to my feet. Little Odessa, located in the Brighten Beach area of Brooklyn, and during the time he stayed there, it housed some of the most dangerous criminals involved with organized crime. My dad pursued …

Just as the thought comes to mind, the man starts removing his gloves.

He pulls on the tip of each finger until the leather is loose enough to slide off his hand. And that is when I see it. The tattoos. Vory V Zakone … the
Thieves
in Law … Brighten Beach … Little Odessa …

My mind pieces the details together as he lets out a dark, deep laugh. Suddenly, I plummet back to my childhood. I am a girl of fourteen, lying under a man while he destroys me from the inside out, and I hear that sound. Between the sound of my dad’s pain and my mother’s pleas, that dark, menacing laugh was there.

“Stravinsky …” I whisper as my heart feels the pain all over again.

He looks at me and smiles wickedly, sending me into a blind rage.

My feet project me out of my chair when the realization fully sets in. I’m standing in the presence of a killer, the man who singlehandedly ruined my family. The mission is sitting across from me, and all I can do is freeze.

He knows who I am. He’s not here to turn me into his live-in sex slave. He purchased me to finally finish what he started fifteen years ago. But how? How did he know who I am?

I don’t have time to think of that; the detail at this moment is inconsequential. I do what I do best and lunge at him.

I will kill this man. If it’s the last thing I do, I will make sure I avenge the death of my family. I will watch the light die in his eyes as I destroy his very being. I will finish the revenge Nikolai meticulously planned while locked in a dungeon due to this man.

I cock my fist back, preparing to plow it in his face, but he is quick, snatching my arm and holding it firmly. He stands as he pushes me back, pinning me to the table. He holds my hands above my head in his strong grip, and my feet struggle to keep balance as he pushes his pelvis into mine.

“I wouldn’t try that again, Miss Stowe.” He pulls me off the table just as a troop of men comes through the door. I am forced back into the chair, and my wrists are cuffed to the arms. “Now, tell me where he is?”

“Who?”

“Don’t be coy, darling. Tell me where he is.”

“Who are you talking about?” I snap, swallowing down the disdain as much as I can.

A hard crack connects with my cheek. My face is set ablaze as Stravinsky pulls the back of his hand up and collides it with my skin again.

“Don’t!” he shouts.

The pleasantries are gone, and now I am forced to make a choice. I can rat Nikolai out, telling them exactly what I know, or I can spare him and keep up with the lie.

“He’s in prison.”

“Really, and if he’s in prison, how did you know anything about me or where to find me?” Stravinsky has a smirk once again on his face, but it doesn’t stay long.

“He told me about you, you sick son of a bitch! We came to an agreement. He would provide me details to your whereabouts and access to his contacts, and I would do what I could to keep him off death row,” I seethe. “After I arrested him for killing that piece of shit cousin of yours, he told me the story of the night you killed my father! It was me who found you. Only me! And it will be me who kills you!”

My chest rapidly heaves up and down. I have channeled all the sorrow, pain, and pure hatred for this man and now allow it to consume my body.

Nikolai was right. I was able to get myself in front of the man responsible for all the loss in my life. And I am ready to settle the score.

Stravinsky breaks our stare down when the door opens up and a ghost reappears. He strolls in much as he did the night I met him. Only, this time, his face is covered in purple bruises, and his eyes are swollen, but his fury for me still resides inside.

“Rule number one: make sure your kill is dead before fleeing the scene,”
Stravinsky mocks as the man who raped me and my mother strides across the wooden floor. “I presume you remember Vlad, darling?”

His comrade advances right over to me and puts his face down next to mine. My blood runs cold the moment his lips slam into mine. I try to turn my face, but his hands immediately clasp my cheeks and keep our lips joined. I try to capture his lip between by teeth, attempting to bite, but he’s too quick.

“Oh, that was better than I expected, detective,” Vlad coos, our breaths mingling together.

“Now, my darling, are you ready to start talking?” Stravinsky asks. He plants himself in front of me, hitching one leg up and keeping the other on the floor.

Vlad steps around behind me, his greasy, disgusting hands holding my shoulders still.

“I’m not telling you anything!” I scream back.

“Very well. Let me tell you what
I
know. Then maybe you’ll be ready to talk.” He stays planted on the edge of the table, his black glare ripping into mine, and continues, “Nikolai was a loyal soldier of mine. He was obedient and wanted nothing more than to please me as he moved up the ranks of our organization. He was a troubled, angry kid who needed guidance, and I was there to provide that to him.