Thief (Boston Underworld #5)(19)

“The doctor reports that your health is improving,” he says.

“It is. I did not realize …” The words don’t come easily, and it’s not an act. “I was not aware of how bad my health was.”

Nikolai settles into the adjacent chair and reclines with his legs spread wide, thumbs toying with a cigarette he is yet to light.

“Zvezda, I am not an ignorant man. Do you think you can win me over with your honeyed eyes and sugary sweet lies?”

My chest squeezes, and bitterness takes a stranglehold on my vulnerability. I wasn’t lying. It was perhaps the first honest admission I’ve made in years, and he doesn’t believe me. But what does it matter? I’d be a fool to expect anything else from a monster.

“I wouldn’t be forced to lie if you’d just let me out of this prison,” I snap. “I’m human, and I don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“I don’t like to see you treated this way.” His words are soft and deceptively genuine, but I can’t believe them. I can’t believe anything he says.

“When can I call my father? When will he come for me?”

His jaw settles into an unforgiving line, and a sinking feeling expands in my stomach.

“He will come for me,” I assure him.

My certainty is a lie, though not for his benefit, but mine. I’m not ready to accept that my life is over, even if logic dictates it is. Nikolai’s possession of me has changed the entire trajectory of my destiny. I was supposed to marry Dante. I had been saved for him. I’d been brought up with the understanding that I would marry him and follow the rules like an obedient daughter.

But with one command, Nikolai changed everything. If I were to return to my father’s, Dante would no longer want me. I’d be considered damaged goods. Impure and tainted. And the question that stays hidden in the darkest recesses of my mind is what would become of me then.

Nikolai removes a lighter from his pocket, the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. “I think you know if you went home, things would not be the same.”

He throws out his careless observation while he lights his cigarette, and there isn’t a sympathetic bone in his body for the plight he has caused. “Dante will not marry you after you’ve been with me.”

His words ignite a storm of images in my mind. Naked. Groaning. Inside me. My thighs clench, and a flush creeps over my skin.

“I haven’t been with you.”

“Not yet,” Nikolai concedes. “But Dante doesn’t know that. And would he ever believe you anyway?”

Not yet. That seems to be the only part of his statement I focus on. It should disgust me. Nikolai is a casual lover who desecrates the idea of intimacy between partners. The act means nothing to him. And even though I am too jaded to believe in love, I always thought that Dante would at the very least be an attentive lover. In the fantasy my mind had conjured up, I liked to believe he would only want me once we married. But with Nikolai, I would be nothing more than a few fleeting moments of entertainment he would soon forget.

“You will never take my body,” I tell him. “I am engaged to Dante. Nothing has changed.”

“Except you aren’t.” He flashes a cold smile. “You never were. But don’t trouble yourself with half-hearted lies, princess. You are too bony for me. I like my women soft. Feminine. So, for now, you are safe from my affections.”

Heat rises up the base of my neck and burns my face while my lips spew venom. “And I wouldn’t want your filthy, well-used cock. So don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Kozlov, you are safe from my seductions as well.”

Nikolai’s lips tilt at the corners, but flames blaze in his eyes. I find it difficult not to react to his verbal jousting, and I don’t know why. My upbringing trained me to be docile, and I know when to pick my battles, but with him, I simply can’t control it.

He releases a deep exhalation from his lungs, clouding the air with the scent of cloves from his black cigarette. “Do you believe Dante would treat you like a princess?”

“Italian men treasure their women. Dante is no different.”

“And when he chose his mistresses over you, it would not bother you?”

My fingernails bite into my palms, but I make every effort not to let the irritation seep into my voice. “I am not delusional. Men have needs. He might sate them outside of the home on occasion, but he would always come back to me.”

“And such behavior in your mind is not filthy?”

I don’t answer. He’s made his point, and I can’t argue it, as much as I’d like to.

“What you can’t seem to grasp, zvezda, is that your judgments have clouded your own vision. I may wet my cock as I please because I am unwed. But I can assure you that there is nothing more sacred to a Vor than his wife. Our code forbids adultery while yours simply expect it.”

“You know nothing of my family or the values we uphold.”

“No?” He laughs. “I know that your father took many mistresses outside of the home. He dipped his cock in whatever filth would have him. All while he kept your mother under lock and key, disfigured from his jealous rages.”

“Do not speak of my mother!” I snarl. “You know nothing of her.”

It’s a rare display of emotion for me to get so choked up, but it seems to be the reaction Nikolai wanted.