A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

seven

Maeve

I have been in the library reading for hours. The sun had set, and without the fireplace lit, the library had grown dark and a bit chilly. I had turned the two lamps closest to the side tables on, the low light sufficient enough for me to read by. I'm flipping the page of the book when I feel a cold air creep up the back of my neck.

"I see you have made yourself comfortable in my home." A deep menacing voice sounds right behind me.

My heart seems to leap out my chest, hammering so hard it hurts. I lurch up from the chair, the book I was so engrossed in landing on the floor. I had my head so deep in the book, I hadn't heard him enter.

Caine. Now that I know his name I hate him even more. He's standing with his feet apart, hands shoved deep into his well tailored pants. His face is a mask of stone. The low light from the lamps makes him seem impossibly taller, bigger somehow. A shiver runs down my spine.

It had grown dark and Nadia still was not back. She must have gotten caught up with whatever she had to deal with and now he was here. Just me and him.

"Are you incapable of speaking now?" He spits.

"No. It's just that my thoughts right now are a little too dark for a conversation piece." I bite back. The only thing separating us is the couch and I intend to keep it that way. A thought occurs to me. The cell phone Nadia gave me. I feel around in my back pockets, but find them both empty. Shit. I left the fucking cell phone upstairs. Now there's no way out, aside from screaming. Although I'm not too sure someone would come save me from their own boss.

"You seem to always speak your mind. What's stopping you now?" He says.

"How do you know? You don't know anything about me."

"Oh, I know plenty about you. All that matters anyway." He seethes.

"I just want to know why you find an ordinary girl from Chicago so interesting." I know toying with him is a dangerous game, but I don't want him to see me as meek or submissive.

"You really are clueless aren't you?" A vicious smile plays upon his features. He's ever slowly making his way towards me.

"Well, why don't you inform me." I say defiantly.

He stops in his tracks when he reaches the small table in front of the couch. "You are a pawn in a much bigger game. It is too soon to share important details with you." He seems to think this is enough.

"Nadia told me about you." His eyes grow impossibly dark. "Your father is the leader of the Russian mafia. You're doing this because of him, right?"

He's standing so still, for second I wonder if he's even breathing.

"Is that what she told you?" He says. He
continues his prowl towards me. My breath hitches in my throat. I back up slowly, inching myself closer and closer to the wall.

"Did she also tell you my father died three years ago?"

"No." I release on a breath.

"Hm." He's directly in front of me now. I don't even dare to breathe. I take one more step back before my foot suddenly slips on something and I'm falling back. Only for rough hands to grab my arms and catch me. I whip my head around and find that I almost fell back into the open fireplace. He's so close now, I can smell the liquor on his breath. It stirs the wispy strands of my dark hair, tickling my face. His scent floods my senses. He smells much like he did the night I met him at the bar. Like soap and expensive cologne.

"You took something from me." He says, his voice low and reverberating. He slowly brings his large hand up, gripping my chin with his fingers. His other hand is still firmly gripping my arm. "Something very special to me." He snarls right next to my ear. I gasp, trying to wrench my head away, but his grip is like iron.

"What?" I breathe out.

"People that take things from me don't get the satisfaction of a short painless ending. No. They get to suffer. They are allowed only to feel pain. Nothing else. Until all the blood drains from their veins and the air leaks from their lungs. Until all of the vileness seeps from their soul, leaving nothing but a sack of useless flesh and bones." Tears are trailing freely down my face now, but I can't focus on them. All I see is the hatred that has pooled in his eyes. Hatred that is directed towards me.

"Which death do you think you deserve?" He grips my chin harder.

I whimper, the sound audible which only drives him further. My stomach churns, the tears flowing from my eyes so fast now, making him appear a blurry mess before me.

"Nadia might treat you like you are a wanted guest, but make no mistake. The first chance I get to end your worthless life, I'll take it." He growls.

He releases his hold on me, like the thought of touching me any longer might taint him in some way. Straightening his suit jacket, he turns and storms out of the library, slamming the door behind him.

I wait a few heart beats before making a quick escape. When I think the coast is clear, I race up the stairs towards my room. Slamming the door, I lock it behind me and crash on the bed.

I bury myself in the silk sheets and impossibly soft comforter. All lies. False security. I am not safe here. He just made that very clear from his depiction of my inevitable death. Wracking sobs shake me. I curl myself into a ball and wish for something, anything to take me away from here.