Page 35

CHARLOTTE

Song- Dreams, SKUM, Meisym.

T he truck screeches to a halt, tires spitting gravel. Drago cuts the engine as moonlight streams through the trees.

Cliché assholes. This is probably the first time I’ve felt some sort of fear before a mission.

It’s not just my life that depends on this. It’s my little girl, and Drago, too.

A nervous throat-clearing sounds as I fixate on the thrumming helicopter.

“You know this isn’t your typical sex club, right?” His voice is low.

“No, Drago. Please tell me more.”

I roll my eyes. I read the damn contract. Told them my sexual preferences and consented to my own fucking death.

“The games. You’re going to need to remember your training.”

“I don’t recall learning how to fuck as part of my assassin 101.”

A shudder runs through my body and my fists clench. That statement is wrong. Marrying Vlad tied me to a life of sex that I didn’t want. So if I can deal with that, I can deal with anything.

“I’m fine. I can handle pain. What’s the worst they can do in a sex club?”

They won’t kill me. I won’t let them. If my husband has taught me anything, it’s that consent doesn’t matter.

So that Decadence contract I signed means shit. I do not consent to my own death. I’ll burn the entire place down.

“You dealing with torture isn’t my concern. Can you deal with pleasure and pain? I’m thinking your best way to win is to immerse yourself in the games. You have to find your way to The Master.”

Hmm. That I don’t know. I’ve only ever been with one guy who focused on my pleasure.

That didn’t just take from me.

There’s one man on this Earth that values my voice, and once I’m done with this, I will find him again.

“I’ll be fine. I can cope with a bit of spanking.”

Drago chuckles, which makes me less tense. But then his jaw clenches and his eyes darken as he turns to me.

“There is one of you. You are unarmed, and they’re clearly deranged fuckers to be hosting this. Don’t fuck around, Char. Win the games. Do your job.”

I twiddle my thumbs on my lap.

“Make sure he doesn’t hurt her, Drago. Please.”

“You have my word. I will do everything I can. Just like I have done her whole life. No matter what, you both are my family, even if not in blood. Remember, it’s just waiting for the right time. Everything will turn out okay in the end.”

I acknowledge with a nod.

It’s been ten fucking years of hell. I can wait longer if it means we’re finally free. I’m clever enough to know if I ran away with her, there isn’t a corner of the world I’d be safe. Even with Drago on my side.

Every bone in Vlad’s body is malicious. Evil.

I rub the welts on my wrists. You’d think after five years of being handcuffed to a bed to sleep at night, the skin would toughen.

That bitch still hurts.

Once I’m free, I’ll tattoo over the scars. And adding his flower to my tree will be the best one yet.

“You’ll be fine, kiddo. I trained you well. Keep focused. Breathe through the pain. You aren’t there to withstand the storm, Charlotte. You’re there to be the fucking storm.”

I take a deep breath to recite the most important mantra from our training.

“A fighter’s soul never weakens. Even if my body is beaten to the ground, my soul will stand tall.”

It doesn’t matter what they do to me. There is nothing that can battle the spirit of a mother protecting her child.

Five rooms. One golden ticket. One kill.

And then I come home and obliterate my husband’s empire.

Whatever gold mine this ticket leads me to, I’ll make damn sure it’s enough to get me and my daughter out safely.

I’ve played games for long enough.

Now I’m ready to fucking win.

“Remember. There’s no way out. Not if you want me to watch over Isabella. But I have a couple of people on standby nearby. Or did. I’ve lost contact with Igor.”

“What do I do? Send a fucking smoke signal?”

I can’t help but laugh. I know I’m walking in alone. It almost sends a thrill through me.

“No. I’ve got eyes in Pennsylvania, don’t you worry.”

I glare at him, my eyes burning with intensity.

It makes me wonder why an invitation was even extended to us. I’m not kept in the know of the business; I just fix their problems.

“Don’t overthink it. There is a plan, but the safest way is to just not fuck it up.”

I smack his arm.

“When have I ever fucked a job up? If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting in this car with you.”

Drago holds out his hand to me.

“Take off your necklace.”

My mouth drops open.

“Oh, I’m really going in free.”

I’ve known all along it was a damn tracker. That’s how the asshole found me when I did escape.

“I fear they would easily spot it’s a tracker, then your cover’s blown.” He pauses.

“Well, that’s what I told Vlad,” he says with a menacing grin.

“Thank you.”

It gives me a shot. A real one. After Tatiana was shot, the dynamics have changed in the house. Vlad is away more. Distracted. The timing is right, hit him when he’s weaker.

“What is this, some sort of cult?” I frown.

Looking at the five guys in balaclavas, tailored black suits, standing with fucking AK-47s around the helicopter.

“You’re positive you’ve got nothing that can be classed as a weapon?” Drago asks, keeping his eyes on the men in front.

“I mean, my boot laces are about the only weapon I have now.”

I can disarm just about anyone with a weapon at close range. I don’t need one myself when I can beat them to the ground and take theirs.

“Good luck, Charlotte.”

“Who really is Enzo? Vlad wanted him in Italy, and now this? Wouldn’t it be better for me to be going after him? The actual source?”

It’s the one bit of information my husband wants and could be my key to freedom if The Master talks.

This guy is a threat. I can tell by the way my husband says his name. There is fear in his eyes.

I like that.

I want to find this Enzo guy.

Drago stills.

“What about Enzo?” He scratches at his stubble.

“I don’t know. That’s the whole point.” I throw my hands up and quickly shove them back down.

“Do not under any circumstances go after Enzo in there, Charlotte. Fuck!”

He slams his fist against the dashboard, a sharp cracking sound echoing in the otherwise silent car.

“Okay. Okay. I won’t hunt him down.”

But maybe I can snoop. Or find the information out for myself and keep quiet.

“You swear? This is important. All our lives depend on that. We don’t want him. We just want the intel. The more we have to threaten Vlad with, the stronger our position.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I feel like I’m missing some important puzzle pieces here, and it’s pissing me off.

“Once I get out of here, you and I need to talk. You gotta fill me in so I can take that bastard out. I can’t keep doing this blind. Intel is everything. You told me that!”

With a sudden movement, I fling my arms out, only to have him seize them. His grip is strong, holding my arms tightly at my sides.

“Do not make them think we’re arguing. I promise we will talk. There is a reason why I am where I am in that family. It’s given me enough power to keep you alive, but it isn’t enough yet to make our final play for your freedom. We need the information, but we must not involve Enzo, okay? We have to stay off his radar.”

He knows something more, or he’s protecting someone that isn’t me.

I don’t like this, not one bit.

“I’m going to end this.”

He nods solemnly.

“Hey, don’t be so glum. I’m coming back.”

I offer him a soft smile.

In these ten years, not only did he save me, he became my family. He took me under his wing. Without him and his training, I’d probably have thrown myself off the roof by now.

A friend that always has my back.

“Isabella will be safe.”

Fuck.

Tears threaten to spill, but I hold them back, just like I always do.

“Thank you, Drago.”

I open the passenger door. The cool morning air rushes in as I slide out, grabbing my heavy rucksack from the seat beside me. The bare essentials to survive.

Slamming the door shut with a loud bang, I gave him one last, curt nod before leaving. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I approach the armed guards, their weapons gleaming menacingly in the dim light.

I toss my bag onto the damp grass and offer my hands in surrender before them.

The large man at the front, his muscles bulging beneath his shirt, gives a slight nod to his companion. I glance down and notice the black bag in his tattooed hand.

Great.

I close my eyes as he steps forward and secures it over my head, but I can still breathe fine.

He leads me up the steps and sits me on a leather seat.

“The games begin now, Contestant Three. Get some rest. You’ll need it,” a deep voice says through the mask.

A wave of exhaustion washes over me as I drift off, the surrounding noises fading to a dull hum.

These motherfuckers.