Sociopath's Revenge (11 page)

Rosa was annoying.

Why?

Because she told me the truth.

Damian

Fucking my woman in the bathroom wasn't exactly the plan I had in mind when I came to this party, but thank fuck I did; otherwise, nothing would have calmed me down after that idiot touched my Sapphire.

Irrational? Yes, probably. Did I give a shit about it? No.

She belonged to me, despite all her bullshit about not being able to be with me. She had some reservations and needed to think, fine. But while she did that, she had to remember who her body answered to.

"Did you really have to do that?" Greg asked from the kitchen, where he grabbed one more six-pack of beer.

Leaning on the door, I raised my brow. "Do what?"

He rolled his eyes. "Remind her who she belonged to." The bathroom was at the other end of the house, so how could he have known about it? I growled, displeased with the idea of him hearing the sounds my woman made while she reached her pleasure. "Relax, man, I'm not stupid. No one saw or heard anything. But trust me, Peter got the message loud and clear if that's what you were aiming for."

"He'd better." Not that I'd given two shits about the guy when I was balls-deep inside Sapphire.

Greg chuckled
.
"I'm not sure she agrees with you. She never dated any guys here, and now she's disappeared inside the house with one. The girls will bug her about it."

"But not Annie," I pointed out, knowing she was the only close friend Sapphire had or whose opinion she cared about. Moreover, soon she wouldn't have to be scared about keeping a low profile and living the identity of Kate. The name, in my opinion, didn't suit her at all.

Greg nodded, taking a sip from the bottle. "Not her. She knows the story after all."

"I knew it." Sapphire's voice behind me froze us as she came closer and poked her finger in his chest. "After he showed up the other night, I wondered about you and Annie. You guys always were close to me, even though I tried so many times to push you away. You spied on me!" She waved her hands chaotically, a sign of her distress.

She was about to race out of the house, but Greg's hand stopped her. "Listen, no. She had no clue. I don't even work for the FBI anymore." Sapphire furrowed her brows in confusion. "Connor asked me to keep an eye on you, but Annie wanted to be friends with you on her own. She didn't befriend you on my behalf. She only recently learned about all this. Please, don't be mad at her."

"I just—" She sighed heavily. "I just don't understand. All these secrets around me… it's like everyone decides what's best for me without even asking!" She took a deep breath. "Fine, I won't tell her I know. I value her friendship and don't want to ruin it because of you guys. God knows I can't afford to lose any more friends." She glared at me too, but why the hell was it my fault? I wasn't the one who placed her in this city to begin with. "Do you think she'd mind if I left now?"

Greg scratched his chin. "She'll understand, but I'm not sure your girl will want to go." I followed his gaze through the window, and sure enough, she'd scooted closer to the nerd kid, listening to everything he said with fascination while he barely noticed her.

Even though I understood he was just a kid, my hands still were eager to grab his collar and point to where the real gem was, instead of his stupid superhero toys. Just how long did little girls have crushes?

To my utter surprise, Sapphire touched my arm and asked, "Could you bring her home, once she is done? I need a moment to think." I searched for some explanation in her eyes, but they gave nothing away. Leaving our baby with me seemed out of character, and although it worried me, I understood she needed space. The last thing I wanted was for her to have some kind of mental breakdown because of me.

I nodded, and only then, I noticed Greg had left the kitchen, giving us privacy. "To think about us?"

She hesitated, but then replied, "Yes." She tried to walk past me to the door, but my hand wrapped around her wrist, bringing her back to my front. She gasped.

Pushing her hair to one side, I whispered into her ear, "Remember how I gave you the choice back in New York all those years ago? I'm giving it to you now too. Choose what you want. I can't screw you and then act as if nothing happened. I deserve better. You deserve better, and
we
sure as fuck deserve better." Then I let her go and went to the yard to keep an eye on our daughter, and I hoped like fuck she'd come to a conclusion satisfying to both of us.

Bratva Headquarters, Moscow, Russia

Once we were back in the Bratva headquarters, I made it to my room and closed the door behind me.

No one dared to enter here without my permission beforehand, even Michael.

My apartment wing consisted of three rooms, two bathrooms, and a huge balcony with one big window, which opened up to a view of the whole mansion. The suite also had a secret passage that led to all the important places, something Vasya made sure to explain and show to me.

The wing had marble floors with small squares on it, which glistened under the crystal chandelier. Expensive leather couches and chairs, and a flat-screen TV dominated the living room that also had a small bar with golden glasses. An expensive Persian carpet was in front of the fireplace, which was rarely used these days. I walked to the small office containing a huge, black oak desk with a computer on it. I dropped all the important files inside the safe, closed it, and checked for e-mails from Connor. Once satisfied with everything, I shut off the light and finally ended up in my room.

Vasya had lived in these rooms for thirty years, and needless to say, the last thing I wanted was to move in here, but once you were Pakhan, you didn't have a choice. Changing anything in the other two rooms was senseless; all the furniture was already antique, and I didn't spend enough time there to care.

However, the master bedroom was a different story. I rearranged everything. I threw away the massive bed, couch, all the Dominant crap Vasya had. I got rid of the red satin sheets and curtains, expensive clocks, and artwork. The bathroom was cleared of all the feminine necessities— who the hell would use them anyway? Instead, a single black mattress was on the floor with a woolen blanket. Several candles were placed in different corners of the room. A curtain hung to the side of the balcony door that allowed the cool breeze along with bright moonlight inside. Because of the size of the window, the room didn't really need any lamps or chandeliers, so I'd removed them too.

Canvases and paints were scattered on the floor, against the wall, everywhere. The single thing I had for myself in this life. My hands twitched with longing, so I toed off my shoes, took off my shirt, and with a ribbon, put my hair back. I lit several candles, dipped a brush in the water and then black paint, and without a thought, started to paint.

My hand moved flawlessly on the canvas as sweat slowly dripped on my lower lip, but I couldn't take a break from my task.

The images in my head had to live somewhere; otherwise, they would drive me crazy.

I painted until my back became sore, my arms could barely lift the brush, and the first hint of dawn broke inside the room as a bird signaled the new day coming. Only then, did my exhausted body plunge to the mattress, and I allowed myself to sleep for a few hours before facing yet another hard day.

The single painting of a black-haired beauty lulled me to sleep, and for the first time, my useless life had meaning and purpose besides surviving.

I will find you, Rosa.

"Son of a bitch, Damian!" Connor shouted from the doorway of the cabin. "You lying piece of shit. You could have called me months ago." He quickly came to the bed, his eyes assessing all the bandages and damage as he scanned the surroundings as well. "This cabin is no place to treat your injuries!"

Before I could reply, Rosa was up in his face with her fierce stance and her hands on her hips. "Stop screaming in my cabin, mister." Connor blinked several times as though just noticing the young woman in front of him. "Especially at my patient who needs rest."

Connor snorted. "If you call this care"—he motioned with his hand to the side of the room—"then it's not the care he needs. Those"—he pointed at my neck and chest—"won't heal with your herbs or any other shit you used to help him." Some bravado left her as her shoulders slumped, and if not for my weak body, I would have strangled him for what he said to her.

"I just—" she started, but Connor cut her off.

"You what? Decided to play nurse, live out some fantasies or what?" She blushed even more at his stare and kept her head down, not wanting to face him.

Enough with this fucking shit already.

"Connor, she saved my life. So instead of scolding her like a child, thank her, and finally listen to me." My voice was hoarse, low, and still fucking hurt from overusing it. Would I ever get my normal voice back?

Connor exhaled a heavy breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and tried to smile at Rosa. "I apologize. This guy brought real havoc." He then turned his attention to me. "We need to talk. Alone."

"I'll go outside," Rosa replied softly, and a second later, the door shut quietly behind her. Connor sat on the edge of my bed, his elbows rested on his knees and ran his hands through his hair.

"We need to get you the hell out of here, man."

"Really? What a shame, because I'm having a blast in this place," I replied sarcastically. "I wasn't able to call you before, didn't even have my voice or consciousness for that matter. I need to get help and revenge." My tone grew colder on the last words, and Connor's head snapped to me.

"We'll wait on the revenge."

"Where is Sapphire?" That was the only question I really wanted answered by him.

"Safe."

"Where?" He shook his head, as his serious eyes held mine.

"No, man. You don't get that information."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I raised my voice, and it got scratchier. This resulted in a long cough, and a curse from Connor, who gave me the cup of hot, disgusting-smelling tea. I pushed it aside. "Why won't you tell me where she is?" The fucking pain in my throat could wait.

"You're in no condition to protect her, and we both know it. You'll only bring attention to her. Do you really want to endanger not only her life but your daughter's too?"

His words froze everything inside me.

Daughter.

Did he say daughter? We would be having a little baby girl? The image of a mini Sapphire running around spread warmth through me as my arms longed to hug the girl in my imagination. Waves of protectiveness washed over me, fiercer than ever before.

My family.

"Did you find anything on S?"

Connor's jaw tightened. "No, the fucker laid low, and there are no traces of documents or any merchandise. They must have shut everything down, and John's wife is not talking."

S was still out there, and the very possibility of him getting to my woman, yet alone my child, had rage boiling inside me.

"Take me to the best rehabilitation facility you know, Connor."

He nodded but then hesitated. "What about the girl?"

"She's coming with me." He furrowed his brow and scratched his chin, wincing slightly. "Are you sure, man? Because that girl might create problems for you. She's young and could easily have some sort of crush on you."

"She saved my life. I owe her protection." Then I told Connor something I figured out a few days ago when my eyes studied every little detail about Rosa, about why she seemed so familiar. "She's Don's daughter. The princess of the Italian Mafia empire."

He groaned, covering his face with his palm. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm fucked."

There was truth in his words because no one wanted to cross a man as dangerous as her father. Unfortunately, she'd left me no choice.