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Chapter Thirty-four: You Never Loved Me
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The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Thirty-five: No one To Save Her
His hands grew still and his eyes narrowed at me. I knew he despised the words I had said to him but I didn't know why. “You must think I’m a fool. You must certainly think you can deceive me like you did in the past,” Dropping his arms, he said coldly, “I know you never loved me. You loved my money, nothing more.”“It might have started as a con,” I said tearfully, “but it changed to something more. I never knew that it would happen but it did. I’m telling you the truth. I loved—”“Say those words again,” he exclaimed, cutting me off in a low, dangerous voice, “and you’ll regret it.”I straightened my spine and looked at him defiantly. I was going to tell him the truth anyway, whether he liked it or not. “I loved you,” I cried. “I loved you with all my heart!”“Be quiet!” With a low growl, he pushed me back violently against the bedpost. “Not another word!”My heart pounded as I saw the fury in his eyes. I had never seen him so angry and it frightened me so much. I could feel the
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Thirty-six: His Word Of Honor
ViktorI heard the loud whir of the helicopter flying away as I stood on thick carpets over the packed sand in my own grand tent, the largest andmost luxurious in his camp, deep inside the Sahara Desert.I looked down at my prisoner—that is to say, my dear wife—sitting on my bed. Tied up with a soft silken gag over her mouth, Lyra was glaring atme with bright sparks of hatred in her eyes. I could feel her growing hatred for me as I watched her.My eyes traced down her body. She still wearing my black T-shirt and oversized jeans from Marrakech, but from the flash of lacy bra strap, I knew she was wearing the sexy lingerie I’d given her underneath. Something about that did things to my head. My body tightened as I imagined her naked. I said softly, “What am I going to do with you?”She answered me in a muffled, angry voice, and I had the feeling she was telling me what I should do with myself, and that her suggestion was not a courteous one.I sighed. I should have guessed Lyra might
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Thirty-seven: Desperate Attempt To Escape
With a twist and a rip, I yanked the rope off her ankles. She let out a small moan which tingled my ears. How could she get me to react this way to her?My own legs trembled as I rose to my feet. I clenched my hands at my sides, my body tight and aching for what I could not have. It wasn't just that I couldn't have her that drove me insane. It was her purity and complete innocence. It was the way she looked into my eyes with pure innocence and didn't react like other girls. It was her little to no efforts to impress me. I had never been around a woman who acted that way. All the women I knew did everything for me to be pleased. They didn't question my decision or make me blurt out my thoughts like Lyra did. She was made of something different and it was intoxicating. It made me want her even more but I knew I couldn't have her. “I shouldn’t have tied you up,” I said in a low voice. I wasn't used to acknowledging my fault but with her, it happened often that I ever imagined. “I sho
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Thirty-eight: Apologizing For The First Time
Catching up with her easily, I grabbed her hand and pulled her roughly all the way to the top of the dune. Then I abruptly released her. It was time to tell her the painful truth.“Look where you are, Lyra,” I raged at her. “Look around you, goddamn it!”With an intake of breath, Lyra turned in a circle, looking in every direction from the top of the dune. It was like standing in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by endless waves of sand. I saw the way her eyes were slowly filled with gleamers of sadness.“There’s a reason why I brought you here,” I said quietly. “I brought you here because you can't leave without my help. There is nowhere for you to go. You are trapped here until I am willing to let you go. And that is not happening anytime soon.”She went in circles for five minutes before the truth of his words sank in on her, and she collapsed in a heap on the sand. “I can’t stay here.” She whispered. "My sister might be in danger. I want to save her. You have to let me go. Pleas
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Thirty-nine: New Life Of Torment
IllyraSeven hours later, I had never felt so sweaty and filthy in my life. I had cleaned Andrei's house and I felt like a filthy maid. But I was glad.With a sigh, I squeezed my sponge over the bucket of soapy water I was using to clean his house. There was still almost no dirt—I guessed Andrei's team of servants had cleaned the place top to bottom the day before. It was the only logical reason she was cleaning the entire place with little or no dirt. But he’d still made me scrub every inch of the enormous house’s marble floor. I knew it angered him when I admitted I preferred to clean the entire house than sleep with him. He was punishing me but I didn't care. I narrowed my eyes. Tyrannical and proud man. My back ached, as did my arms and legs. Hours and hours, I had cleaned the entire house. But—and this was the part I was happy about—I’d done it all with my clothes on. He’d thought a little cleaning could humiliate me? I worked in the resort as a housekeeper, scrubbing toilets
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Forty: I Missed You
At the sound of Andrei's husky voice from the doorway, she jumped, whirling around. “You—you knew I was sleeping?” she stammered.His gaze was intense as he came toward her. “Yes.”She felt suddenly very small as his tall body loomed over hers. She licked her lips. “So why didn’t you wake me up and start bossing me around?”Reaching out, he brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. “Because you looked like an angel. I couldn't wake you up. Besides, you have been working all day. You must be exhausted.”His voice was low. Sensual. Illyra’s eyes widened as she looked up—no, not at his lips! His eyes! Trembling with awareness at how they were once again alone in his bedroom, she tightened her hands at her sides. “Um. Thanks. For letting me borrow your bed.” She edged away from it. “I should probably be getting back to work....”His eyes glimmered. “Our bed.”“What?”Andrei's large hand wrapped around the post’s polished wood. “You called it my bed. It is ours.”Her lips parted. Then she
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Forty-one: Being Useful
Flashes of heat went up and down her body. His hands on her shoulders were heavy, sensual, like points of light. With an intake of breath, she ripped herself away from him.“Dream on,” she said, tossing her head with every ounce of bravado she possessed. He shrugged. “Then I’ll have to find some other way to make you useful.”Illyra started to reach for the bucket and sponge, but he stopped her. “No. You are right. Enough cleaning.” He gave a sudden wicked grin. “You will cook for me.”Her jaw dropped. He must have forgotten the last time she’d cooked for him, taking a romantic date idea from a magazine. It had been romantic, all right—she’d nearly burned the cabin down, and then the firemen had been called. “You can’t be serious.”Andrea lifted a dark eyebrow. “Because you’re still a terrible cook?”She glared at him. “Because you know I would poison you!”“I know you won’t, because we will share the meal.” He leaned forward and said softly, “Tonight I am craving...something deliciou
The Mafia King’s Pawn Chapter Forty two: Bad Cook
Andrei should have known not to make her cook.He’d thought that Illyra, at age twenty-eight, might have improved her skills. No. If possible, she’d grown even more hopeless in the kitchen. The attempt had been a complete disaster, even before the raw yolks had been flung all over—perhaps a merciful end before they could be added to the burned, lumpy mess in the sauté pan.Cleaning up, he dumped it all out and started fresh. Forty minutes later, he sat at the table on the patio and tasted his finished soufflé, and gave a satisfied sigh.He would not ask Illyra to make food again.Andrei knew how to cook. He just preferred not to. When he was growing up, his family had had nothing. His father tried his best to keep up the six-hundred-acre homestead, but he’d had his head in the clouds—the kind of man who would be mulling over a book of Russian philosophy and not notice that their newborn calf had just wandered away from its mother to die in a snowdrift. Andrei's mother, a former wait
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