Chapter 8: Her Rescuer, Their Executioner

Massimo's POV

Just when I am about to wipe out the rest of his men, the bastard shows up and orders them to stand down. He pleads, but there is only one reason I don't put a bullet in his bald head.

Elena is there, looking at me.

I tell him to ready a car immediately. Then I walk over to her. The moment I get to her, her eyes widen in terror and I'm sure I gasp as I lose my stream of thought.

Shit.

I have always thought she was beautiful. I was mistaken. She is breathtaking.

Being this close, I can see her features even with how shaken she is. Her skin is soft. The delicate planes of her face are precise, intricate… so fucking unreal. Her eyes are brown like melted amber caught beneath sunlight. Rich. Warm. Alive. Her thick, dark lashes are matted and wet. Her large eyes sparkle with unshed tears, holding a depth that threatens to drag me under.

She is trembling, and the more I look at her, the more I want to walk over to Gavriil and put a bullet in his head. But that will have to wait. So I force my body, which seems to have become paralyzed, to move.

As I reach for her, she flinches. I can see the horror on her face as her skin goes pale as chalk.

“Are you scared of me?“ I ask softly. I have never sounded this tender in my entire life, not even with my sister, but I can’t help it. Not that I want to.

She both nods and shakes her head, and I find myself stifling a chuckle despite everything.

“No.“ I hold up my hands. “Don't be scared. I would never hurt you, Elena.“

She is still shaking when I lift her from the metal slab they have her tied to and pull her into my arms. God. She feels the way she looks. So fucking soft. If I find a single bruise on her body, the inevitable deaths I have already planned for every one of them will be much slower than I originally intended.

They are smart enough to come running over with a large duvet before I’ve even finished untying her. Probably on Gavriil’s orders. He is finally taking initiative.

But it's a little too late for that.

Nothing is going to save him from my vengeance.

The moment Elena leaves this building, he is going to know pain like he has never known before.

I place her on a cushion that has suddenly materialized at the far end of the room. Maybe it has always been there. Maybe they brought it just now in their desperate attempt to pacify me.

I don't fucking care.

For now, I need to sort out the deal. I don't need anyone coming after Elena claiming they paid for her. Not that it will matter, because they will all be dead within the next minute. But I don't want any more drama for her.

I walk over to him, and he politely ushers me to a seat. He starts talking, but all my attention is focused on Elena. She can probably hear us from where she is.

I’d better keep this discussion to a minimum.

“I tell you truly, Don Massimo, my friend,” Gavriil continues in his thick Russian accent, “if you had told me you were interested, we could have easily negotiated. There was no need for…”

His eyes drift across the room, cataloguing the damage. His men are scattered across the floor, some dead, others dying.

“I would never knowingly deny you anything, Don Massimo. I assure you, I wasn't aware of your interest in her.”

I say nothing.

I am neither his dear friend, nor do I need his fucking assurance. Most importantly, the moment I get Elena out of here, I am coming back to wipe him out. First, because ignorance is not an excuse. Second, because he is still talking about her as though she is some kind of merchandise.

I let the silence do its work, emphasizing my anger and making Gavriil shift awkwardly in his seat beneath the weight of my unspoken verdict.

“How much, Gavriil?” I ask at last.

My patience is running thin, especially with her sitting at the far end of the room, a blanket pulled tightly around her shivering shoulders.

I need to get her out of here.

Take her home.

“It’s not like that,” he says, spreading his hands across the table. “You see, you are one of the people who didn't trouble me when I first came to this country. In fact, you supported me. We are one family. You do me a favor yesterday, I do you one today or tomorrow. No need to, erm…”

Gavriil is a smart man. A businessman.

He has already gauged Elena's importance to me or at least he thinks he has.

He is also trying to get into my good graces. He knows I won't let this slide. He wants to turn this into a favor. Nevertheless, I am not taking chances on intangible favors. I don't need to. I'm Massimo Ponteza. I call all the shots.

“We do business, you and I can…” he resumes talking.

“Name a price,” I command, cutting through his charm. “Factor in everything. Transport. Logistics. Every hand she would have passed through. Then give me the number you would have given the final buyer.”

I tilt my head. “All of it, Gavriil. And don't waste my time.”

He is a smart man. I see him recalculating behind his eyes. After a few seconds, he swallows. His hand moves toward his jacket. My hand flies to the gun in my possession.

“No, no,” he says quickly, his voice jumping an octave. “Just reaching for my pen.”

He pulls out a pen.

“See?”

Then he scribbles something onto a folded slip of paper. After a moment, he looks up with a small, performative smile and pushes it toward me.

“I give you a fair number, my friend.”

I don't read it. I grab the paper and slip it into my pocket.

“My accountant will wire you twice the amount at sunrise.”

I rise to my feet.

“You didn't even look at it,” Gavriil says.

“I don't need to.”

He exhales and shakes his head slightly.

“You see,” he says, his tone easing back into familiarity, “I told you. If you came to me first, we could have negotiated without bloodshed.”

His gaze drifts around the room. I clench my jaw so hard I can hear my teeth grind. The sheer, staggering audacity. No one talks to me like that. Especially not a man who should be begging for my forgiveness. Pleading for his life. For laying his filthy hands on what is mine. For a moment, I almost reconsider finishing what I started.

“If I came to you?” I repeat, nodding slowly.

His gaze drops to my hand tightening around the edge of the wooden table. Understanding flashes across his face.

He opens his mouth to speak.

“Gavriil,” I cut in, already rising from the chair, “let me tell you something.”

“If she were not in this room…if she were not sitting a short distance away from us right now…this conversation would have taken a very different turn.”

Across the room, his men react instinctively, closing in. Their hands move toward their weapons. Gavriil raises a hand, signaling them to stay back.

“The only reason you are still alive,” I continue, “is because I am trying to save face with her.”

I lean forward and grab a fistful of his shirt.

“No need to show her the animal I am just yet,” I whisper into his ear.

His eyes hold mine.

I know she will eventually realize what I am capable of. The beast inside me. But not today.

 I release him abruptly. He staggers slightly. Then I turn and walk toward her. She tenses when I approach, but the moment she realizes it's me, some of the tension leaves her body.

She is beginning to feel safe around me.

Interesting.

I hide my smile.

“Thank you,” she mutters weakly. “I will pay you back. Everything. I will make sure...”

“Anything for you, mi amor,” I say softly.

I pull a handkerchief from my pocket. I intend to blindfold her before we leave.

When she spots it, she tenses again. But she relaxes when I say, “It's for your own safety.”

It isn’t. I simply don’t intend for her to memorize the route when we leave. I don’t want her coming back here looking for Gavriil even after I crush him.

She begins to protest when I place the blindfold over her eyes. Then she stops. And lets me.

A small whimper escapes her lips as my hand slides under her knees, the other banding around her back as I lift her into my arms. Her body is slightly warmer now from all that heat, but her back is cool. She trembles slightly and I can feel the coolness of her ass against my lower belly. My pulse kicks up, thick and heavy, flooding my groin until I’m rock-hard and aching.

A mixture of floral scent aerosolizes perfection, hitting my lungs and waking every nerve in my body. My brain spins into a buzz. She smells so good I want to taste her.

Damn it.

This is the worst time for my brain to be in this fucking haze. I need to calm the fuck down.

I inhale and inhale and inhale again, deeper, greedy, letting it coat my tongue. As I straighten, I press her tighter into my body. Prying myself from thoughts of burying myself in her neck and drowning in her scent. I manage to edge toward the door and stride into the open sky.

As we reach outside the building, she shifts slightly, trying to see through the blindfold. She snuggles her arms around my neck once again, shifting under my arm, as she tries to adjust herself. God, her skin feels so soft under her trousers, it will redden when I spank her.

On the other side, the car waits where I ordered Gavriil to have it. A driver sit, pensive. He jolts when he spots us approaching. Then scrambles out to open the door. He does his best to be calm, but I see his hand waver slightly.

I signal the driver and he runs off immediately.

Elena moves slightly in my arms, startled.

“It’s alright,” I murmur.

I lower her gently onto the back seat. Her breathing spikes into short, frantic gasps. Her slender hands fly up, fingers scrabbling at the blindfold.

“Calm down,” I say quietly. “It’s me. I am still here. I am not going anywhere, okay?”

She nods slowly and then settles in the seat. Being in the car is going to take a while for her to get used to. There is no way I'm going to let those bastards go scot-free. I want to wrap her in my arms and hold her in an embrace all night, but she needs to conquer this on her own. No need to let the fear grow or make her more dependent than she needs to be. So I sit close, letting her work her way through the internal turmoil. Her breath steadies and her body relaxes slowly.

“Okay,” she whispers, nodding as she finally becomes calm.

“Thank you,” she mutters again, her voice already heavy with exhaustion as I close her door and move to the driver's seat.

Her hand moves instinctively to the blindfold.

I make a sound of disapproval and instantly her inquisitive fingers drop to her thighs. Holy fuck, she is so obedient it’s driving me crazy. I want to see how obedient she can get.

“I will pay you…” she says, rattling me from my sinful thoughts.

“For… everything…”

“Go to sleep, mi amor,” I say softly, cutting in.

“It’s going to be a long ride.