Page 36 of Deadly Knight (The Bratva’s Elite #2)

Eventually, I give up yanking on the door since I’m making zero headway and the room beyond has been silent. Obviously, he left and won’t be returning until he finishes whatever he’s setting out to do.

Maybe if he told me what all that is, I could be more cooperative. Just maybe, because it doesn’t change being left in the dark, or that he swept me away from my home and job without fully explaining.

With a frustrated noise, I back deeper into the bathroom, because bodily needs are coming above everything else. At least he locked me in somewhere useful.

I twist, taking in the bathroom easily triple in size than my apartment’s. To my left, there’s a glass, luxurious-looking shower and a clawfoot tub beside it. To my right, a long, black marble countertop with two sinks rests below a wall-sized mirror that’s edged with light.

It’s the person reflected back who makes me flinch.

Eyes ringed with smudged makeup, and the lipstick I so carefully applied for my date has faded.

My hair’s a rat’s nest, presumably from being carted around, and raking my fingers through it doesn’t help much.

So, I reach for the comb resting beside the sink, amongst Dimitri’s toothbrush and shaving kit.

I look exhausted, like someone who went through the wringer, which I suppose is exactly what happened. If I wasn’t planning on getting out of the mansion as soon as this door opens, I’d consider a shower. For now, that’ll have to wait until I’m home.

How? Without a passport, any form of ID, or money, I’m fucked.

As I attempt to brush the tangles from my hair, my attention catches on the two red lines around my neck. Faint, but they certainly weren’t there before my date. What the hell did Ivan do to me? Rope, cuffs, or something else?

My lungs feel heavier at the thought, my breath becoming stilted. Dimitri never explained what he saved me from, and I really wish he did. My fingers brush the marks again before pulling my hair over my shoulders and hiding them from view.

There’s a skinny door at the other end of the bathroom and, presuming it’s the toilet, I head there.

Upon returning, a noise comes from the other side of the bathroom door, and I rush forward. A moment later, whatever Dimitri put against the door to trap me inside is moved, and it swings open, revealing a woman.

Long, black hair covers much of her face until she flicks it over her shoulder, revealing an insanely pretty face. Intense blue eyes with thick lashes accompanied by smooth skin I’d learn to kill for.

She studies me as intently as I do her before reaching her hand out, as though finding a woman trapped in Dimitri’s bathroom is at all normal and calls for handshakes.

“Vanessa Volkov. Nice to meet you. I’m Dimitri’s?—”

“Cousin,” I cut her off, slowly nodding, now seeing the same eyes from numerous portraits that once hung throughout the mansion, belonging then to a much younger face.

I never got the chance to meet Vanessa, since she was always at boarding school. When she was home for the holidays, most of Dimitri’s other family members were also around, so he kept me away from the mansion.

At her feet, a Doberman puppy runs by her, dancing around my legs. Normally, I’d bend to pet the animal, except cousin or not, staying alert is important until knowing what to expect from Vanessa.

Dimitri is one thing…but I remember the stories of his uncle, which would be Vanessa’s father. If she’s anything like her father or Ivan, then this bathroom might be the safest place for me. With the door closed and locked.

“Hey,” she greets, drawing out the word, like I’m the one to fear. “Sorry for what Dimitri did.”

“Not your fault.” I think.

She steps aside, gesturing for me to leave the bathroom. I do, keeping her in view while heading near the bed.

She remains motionless, folding her hands together in front of her. “You okay? He’s a moron. I couldn’t believe my eyes when he carried you in here. It’s nice to meet you. Finally.”

“Likewise. I think.” There’s a softness in her eyes that isn’t anything like Ivan. Besides, Dimitri left me here after raving about keeping me safe. If his cousin was anything like his father, surely he wouldn’t?

“Hungry? Let’s get you food.”

My shoulders lower with a deep breath, and my stomach growls, suggesting how many hours it’s been since I last ate. Dinner with Caleb, whenever that was.

She takes a step, but I don’t, my body trying to catch up to what my mind’s decided: She’s safe.

“I won’t hurt you.” She separates her hands to hold them up. “No one here will, I promise. I vow it on my position as Pakhan.”

“Pakhan.” I blink, recalling old conversations about the Bratva’s structure. “The leader, right?”

She dips her head. “My papa is dead. Ivan’s in Toronto, as you know.

None of my father’s old soldiers are around.

The only people who live here are myself and Dimitri, and Anastasia and Lev, whom you’re about to meet.

Oh, and my husband, Zeno, comes around sometimes.

Ex-husband, I suppose, but future fiancé as well. ”

“Am I supposed to follow that?”

She laughs. “Long story. We have a small band of soldiers who monitor the property on rotation, who you’ll barely notice or see. Everyone here would die to protect you.”

“That feels a bit much, considering you don’t know me.”

With eyes as blue as the sky and in a tone as flat as the Prairies in Saskatchewan, Vanessa replies, “You’re Dimitri’s. No matter what the situation between you two is, he cares about you, and we care about him; therefore, we care about you too.”

Oh. Well, now I feel like a bitch for being wary and assuming.

Though I never spoke aloud, she clearly reads my concerns from my expression. “I get it. Last time you were in Moscow, the Bratva was a different organization. Your fears are valid. No worries.”

I find myself cautiously smiling, becoming relaxed by Vanessa’s easy demeanour. “How’d you guess?”

“One doesn’t maintain leadership without being able to read others. You got very stiff. Some unsolicited advice would be to hide your emotions better to protect yourself.”

Further evidence I’m not fit for Dimitri’s world, then or now. I couldn’t hide my fear from a single woman dressed in jeans and a hoodie, as casual as a person can get and the exact opposite of what a dangerous Pakhan looks like in my head.

Why am I even thinking about this? Him saving me doesn’t change anything.

Vanessa turns for the door again, and the puppy trails behind her, his limbs clumsy as he keeps up.

“Dog’s name is Veles. He’s friendly, but hyper.

” She twists back, propping herself on the doorway, a barrier between me and freedom.

“Dimitri demanded I keep you locked in here, but I’m not about to do that. ”

Already, I like her more than Dimitri.

“ If you promise me one thing,” she continues, lifting her finger. “Don’t run. He’ll kill me if he learns I let you out of the room, so before my neck’s on the line, just don’t.”

She falls into step beside me when I reach the hallway. “What about my neck?”

She laughs but doesn’t reply, not getting my comment wasn’t a joke or a sarcastic remark as she leads me down the long hallway I have vague memories of.

Then, I was amazed by the padded carpet and ancient vibe of this place.

Like a history movie, large portraits and paintings of deceased Volkovs were always hung on the walls, and clearly Vanessa never redecorated.

By the top of the stairs, she hovers by the last painting in the row, curling her lip at the man I vaguely recall meeting. By meeting, I mean Dimitri pointing him out before hiding me.

“If it wasn’t tradition to keep portraits of the past Pakhans up, I’d have it removed.”

“Your papa,” I guess, staring at the identical blue eyes of the woman beside me.

“Da.” She faces me, giving her back to her father. “He’s dead, and won’t bother any of us. No one from his time hangs around. Point is, you’ll be safe until Dimitri gets back.”

“And then he’ll let me go home?”

She grimaces. “To be honest, I don’t know what’s in his head these days. It’ll be something for the two of you to work out.”

“If I don’t want to?”

She shrugs. “Again, it’s a problem for you two. Come, let’s get you food. You’re probably starving.”

I am, so I continue following her down the massive staircase made with a glossy wood, and past the ornate entranceway. I stare at the front door a bit too long. I memorize everything about the route, doubtful I’ll ever be able to use it.

Veles runs by us, leading us down another hall, and we eventually enter a large kitchen full of shiny appliances my bank account would cry at.

He goes straight for a dog bowl in the corner while my attention flits to the island counter, easily consuming two-thirds of the room, and the two people standing behind it—another woman stirring a smoothie, and a guy, his eyes on the woman at my side.

“Hey, when did you get in?” Vanessa abandons me and heads for him, presumably the ex-husband she mentioned, and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

A thick Italian accent isn’t what I expect when he replies, “Few minutes ago. Came to go over details with Lev. And to visit you, of course, or else I could have just called Lev and saved the trip.”

Another name semi-familiar to me from the past, and more recently when Vanessa mentioned him upstairs. Lev was training alongside Dimitri when we were in school, but he was another person I never met.

“I was told you’re busy with business.” His gaze makes its way to me. “I assume this is the business?”

“Katya.” Vanessa nods. “Dimitri’s…guest.”

Is that what they’re calling kidnapped people? “Unwilling guest,” I correct.

The newcomer blinks once before laughing. “Sense of humour’s always good. My name’s Zeno. I’m hers.” He thumbs towards Vanessa as she returns by my side, not so subtly positioning herself between me and the doorway.