"You," Julio mused, interest peaking once he spotted me in line with a handful of other women, "I've been looking forward to this moment. Seeing you like this."
Whatever tolerance I had built up with the constant drugs left me far more sober than the rest, who could barely keep their eyes open.
I was dazed, but all too aware of my surroundings.
I had been driven to an unknown location, where I had been administered a smaller dose of the yellowish liquid.
Along with the rest of the women present, I had been stripped, washed down and readied for what I could only assume was the auction.
I was cold, shivering and disgusted.
I decided then and there that I would survive this. If I was to be sold and left Julio's demented way of avenging his father's death, I would be better able to fight and escape.
We were lined up like cattle, while heavily armed men stood guard by each corner of the otherwise empty room.
We had all been guided in here through a simple black door, but the only way out were the double doors, which I recognised were the ones leading to the round platform around which all the disgusting men would be sat in their private boxes, waiting to bid on the ones shown tonight.
"You're sick," I gritted out, too stubborn for my own good as I glared at him before me.
Without a second thought his hand collided aggressively with the side of my head, knocking me to the floor with a yelp. Blunt pain shot through my body, but only added fuel to my fire of fury.
My heart raced, eyes watering at the harsh slap. His polished shoes shined in front of me, and I spat on them daringly.
My hair was grabbed in to a painful hold, with the help of which I was lifted back up onto my feet as if I weighed no more than a feather.
I continued to glare at Julio and his demented smile, while one of his men held me in place with a tightened hold on my hair, my head jerked back firmly.
"We'll find a nice home for you, Natalia," he assured me ghoulishly, pervertedly eyeing my bare front as if he hadn't just hit me.
The women lined beside me remained as unfazed, not having been drugged as heavily before as I had.
Maybe I had built up a tolerance, or maybe Julio wanted to torture me further. Maybe he wanted to have me coherent enough to know exactly what was happening to me, to never forget the way he had undoubtedly won this battle.
"Our VIPs arrive soon. They'll get the first looks of you," Julio continued, proudly looking over the array of women on line, "you'd be lucky to go home with one of them. A Wellesley girl? Even with an attitude you'll fly off the shelf."
I ground my teeth together, murderous glare unwaveringly settled against his. I held myself back from the itch to attack, knowing it would only end up hurting me. I would wait until I was out of here before escaping.
For once, a somewhat rational plan was the better option over instinct fuelled by strong emotions.
One of the women collapsed to the floor, and Julio's attention snapped toward her. I could easily have kneed him, punched him or attacked him, but didn't. She yelled out in agony as she was yanked up similarly as I was still held up, and all I could do was fight against the urge to kill the disgusting man before me.
The simple black door was opened by one of the armed men inside the room, and my eyes all but bulged out of my head at the first VIP to enter.
His dark eyes only momentarily found mine, before they averted as if he hadn't recognised me.
I opened my mouth to speak, to yell at him to gain his attention and help, but could only watch and stare at Julio spinning on his heel before making his way to greet the men.
Mikhail fucking ferocious grinned and shook his eagerly extended hand.
"Welcome, welcome," Julio ushered the four men in, brows pulling down as he glanced behind them, as if he had been expecting more important guests.
How was Mikhail here without Mogilevich, and so friendly with the sick bastard?
I would have recognised the three men trailing behind him if they had been notable in our world, but didn't.
I tried to escape the grip on my hair holding me back, but only had it tighten painfully. I hissed with defiance when it pulled me back harder, humiliatingly exposing me further.
"I have a very special one on auction tonight," Julio began suggestively, winking over at me without discretion.
I seethed with fury, knowing my identity would then be revealed.
Mikhail ignored me, and definitely would do the opposite of helping me once he heard my family name.
I stared at the giant man, desperate to understand why he wouldn't meet my gaze.
"I was expecting-" Julio admitted, still wondering why it was only the four men who had entered the room and had had the door closed behind them.
He was cut off by all four pulling out their guns.
The women who were capable of understanding what was going on screamed and cowered down to the floor.
I froze, too shocked and confused to process what was happening.
Julio's men readied their weapons, but weren't quick enough. One by one, they were expertly shot down before they had the chance to bat an eye.
My heart beat loudly in my ears, the loud gunshots ringing painfully around the room as they swooshed past me. I watched Mikhail kick his foot in to Julio's stomach, causing the bastard to fly across the room and slam against an empty wall.
The grip on my hair fell, and I felt the body of the man behind me fall to the floor.
Everything quietened.
It had all happened so fast, and I was still gaping at the devil of a man who now finally focused on me.
Without so much as a word he slipped off his suit coat while taking two confident strides to stand before me.
Dark gaze unwaveringly on mine, he wrapped the black piece of clothing over my shoulders, covering and warming my nude body. He smoothed down the material over my arms, but his strong hands remained against me to guide me back to reality.
"Are you hurt?" he gruffed out.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, but I was too stunned to move. I still felt in danger, untrusting this could've ended so easily and all at once.
"No," I croaked out, gaping up at him.
"Good." And then he was handing me a gun. Shaking, I accepted it slowly and gazed down at it.
I was going to be sick.
None of the women had been harmed, but each of Julio's men laid dead on the floor, too slow to have taken one shot against Mikhail and the men accompanying him.
I snapped back at the sound of Julio groaning in pain by the wall, now laboriously lifting himself up against it.
I then recognised one of the men as Ivan, who strode to tower over the pathetic slump of a man, gun aimed at his head threateningly.
With his hands still on my upper arms and large body all but enveloping mine, Mikhail calmly ordered, "either you kill him, kukolka, or we do with him as we please."
I gaped back down at the heavy and silver Beretta in my hands. The first gun I had ever fired had been a Beretta. With the same gun, I had killed my first man.
The brand was trustworthy, elegant and still my preferred choice of weapon. To now have it weighing in the palm of my hand granted relief to flow over me and ease the panicked state I had been locked in.
All four men observed me patiently.
When Julio tried to lift himself up, Ivan was quick to kick him back down with a vehement curse. Other than his pained groans, the room was completely silent.
Some of the women had rushed out through where we had come from while some stayed, too far gone to do much but rest against the walls, unfazed by the bodies littered along them.
Mikhail's touch against the side of my face to brush my hair behind my ear dragged me back from my thoughts and added to the calming effect of the gun in my hand. His intoxicatingly dark eyes searched mine, far less intently than what I was accustomed to.
"Yes," I mumbled, focusing my attention on the pathetic man gasping for breath on the floor.
Without hesitation I let my unstable legs carry me toward him, leaving Mikhail, my pain and my failed mission behind.
I cocked the gun and aimed it down at Julio, heart thudding loudly in my ears. Ivan stepped aside and lowered his pistol.
Once Julio was able to look up at me standing over him, he spat blood and wheezed out a laugh.
Unbeknownst to the four other men in the room, Julio hadn't been able to inform them of my family name, information so crucial that it would have left me dead in the blink of an eye.
They were Mogilevich's men, after all. Saving one of Wellesley's was undoubtedly against everything they believed in, but to save Wellesley's daughter, of all people? If only they knew.
"Remember me, Natalia-" before Julio could spit out the name of my family, I squeezed the trigger.
I watched the bullet sink between his eyes as he fell back down against the floor limply, eyes wide and glazed over.
I stood frozen and watched blood pool around his head.
The gun fell from my shaking hold before I could tighten my hand around it.
The men spoke something between themselves, but it muffled out of my consciousness.
--
Not once had I questioned where Ivan and Mikhail were driving me. To think of it, I hadn't uttered so much as a word since leaving the venue of the auction.
I hadn't questioned why he had been the one to save me instead of my father, nor how he had done so with Mogilevich's knowledge.
Surely his boss had to be aware of the mission, since four of his men had been assigned to it. As much leverage as Mikhail seemed to have in his position, even he couldn't command three men without raising a brow from higher ranks.
I tightened the large suit coat around myself and, for the first time since Julio had abducted me, let myself rest, both mentally and physically. I relaxed against the backseat, the side of my head leant against the cool window.
Ivan and Mikhail were speaking, their voices kept low in case I happened to understand any of the words passed between them. I was too exhausted and confused to care, and solely focused on the dark trees we passed by.
We weren't headed to my father's or Mogilevich's estate. We were going to Mikhail's.
The anger I had felt toward him subsided, no longer interested in who had inevitably caused my abduction and the murder of my friend. Instead, I stuck to facts. James was dead, but so was Julio.
The conversation between the two men simmered down as we neared Mikhail's masterpiece of a home.
Both were surely expecting me to put a fight and object, to insist I be taken to Wellesley. Surprising every person in the black SUV, I remained silent and calm.
I wouldn't need to contact my father for him to know where I now was. If Mogilevich hadn't yet informed him of my location, our spies surely had.
--
A piercing scream bounced off the concrete walls.
My head snapped back to find a woman staring at me, looking to be only a few years Mikhail's senior. Behind her stood Bean.
Mikhail had sat me down on a couch the moment we had entered the house.
It was dim, and the last person I had been expecting to see was a woman.
Girlfriend, wife, hook-up?
Whichever she was, I glared at her excessive reaction, which only succeeded in further exhausting my numbed nerves.
"Bring clothes," unfazed, Mikhail spoke to her, seating himself beside me, "female clothes."
A wry smile tugged at the sides of my lips at how unnaturally he had specified the needed clothes.
"Yes, sir," she complied, but her tone was hesitant and shaky. Not a romantic partner, then.
I focused on the glass walls across the living area, at the dark trees swaying outside in the wind. The hastened clicks of her heels retreated, but the soft pads of Bean's paws against the concrete floor neared.
The elevator doors opened, and the woman left through them.
A soft and wet surface nudged at my toes, and I glanced down to see the intimidating dog peering curiously up at me, no longer watching me like he wanted to ravage me.
A small smile shadowed my lips as I carefully reached a hand down to pet it.
My limb wasn't bitten off, and instead the dog licked the palm of my hand. Maybe it sensed the last thing on my mind to be to attack his owner. Maybe Mikhail had wordlessly ordered it to relax as well.
"A woman doctor is here soon," the man beside me cleared his throat, gruff tone surprisingly uncomfortable, "she will examine you."
"A woman doctor is just a doctor," I had to remind him, glancing to my side to find his dark gaze firmly fixed on my hand atop the Rottweiler's head.
His brows were pulled down and delicious lips pressed tightly together.
Did he think I had been sexually assaulted, or worse?
"Were you touched?" he inquired firmly, unwilling to meet my eyes.
Oh, he did.
"No."
After all the empty threats of rape to intimidate me, he had requested a doctor I'd definitely feel comfortable around incase the worst had happened.
He knew all too well what was done to these young women, women like Faith.
My heart squeezed painfully.
With Julio dead, Faith would have been sold on quickly and for pennies. I had to save her from the doomed fate, my hope for taking the whole business down at an all time low.
"O'Leary, Harris and Ther are dead," Mikhail broke the comfortable silence before I could trouble myself with thoughts of the woman I had been locked up with.
The deaths of three men from my list didn't excite me as much as they should've.
"You?" I wondered quietly, yet knew he was behind the kills. I received a simple nod in reply. Still, the giant man beside me wouldn't meet my gaze.
I ran my fingers through Bean's short fur, appreciating whatever comfort it was trying to give me by having situated itself before me.
My knees were tightly held against my chest, Mikhail's suit coat along the heat of his body keeping me warm.
"I won't continue this anymore," I decided, and it was enough to drag his dark eyes from my hand to study the feeble conviction in my eyes, "thank you for your help, but there could be ten of you and we still couldn't take down the business."
It was a slow death trying to end human trafficking. I should have fought against it till my demise, but my role as future head of the family had redirected my priorities.
I had lost, and despite Julio's death couldn't waste my energy and assets on the hopeless mission.
"One of you is enough," Mikhail grunted, unappreciative of my refusal to go on with this, "I wouldn't have thought you a quitter, Natalia."
"I'm not a quitter," I shot him a look of distaste, "I'm smart enough to stop when going forth won't end well."
He shook his head at me, and my eyes widened at the guts of this man. He rested comfortably back against the couch, strong jaw tilting up with challenge.
"You're scared."
I was scared. Scared of losing everything - my family, the business and myself. But should he see through my fury and find vulnerability, it was a reason atop many of why he scared me most.
I withdrew my hand from Bean, before shifting to face Mikhail's side.
I glared at the curious and nonchalant expression on his beautiful face, embracing whatever my reaction would be.
"There isn't a woman more brave and beautiful, kukolka," his eyes flickered down to the frown on my lips, calm tone lowering, "use it. Bring every man you meet to his knees."
I gaped at him, left speechless at the surprisingly flattering words. I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it quickly once nothing came out.
My heart pounded against my chest when he slowly reached his hand toward the side of my face. My skin burned underneath the rough pads of his fingers once they brushed over my cheek, settling there comfortingly.
Completely inappropriate to recent events and my rational mind, heat pooled in the pit of my stomach, forcing my thighs clenched shut more firmly.
He was so close, so inviting and so irresistible. The darkness only extenuated every delicious feature of his face, leaving my mouth dry.
Once his thumb brushed along my lower lip, gently guiding it away from its twin, a quiet sigh slipped past.
Unwillingly my attention directed in turn to his luscious lips, itching for them to meet mine.
My heart raced and breath grew laborious, the heat coursing through each vein wiping away every thought except ones of him.
I wanted to escape reality.
"Did they hurt you?" his lowered tone vibrated through my aching body, checking once more.
I had barely managed to shake my head before I closed the final space between us and pressed my lips against his as if they were the air I gasped for.
All too gently his hand moved to cup the back of my head, fingers sliding through my hair. A pathetic whine left my mouth and muffled against his, immobilising relief lighting each nerve at his touch and the feel of his lips on mine.
I was safe, that much I knew. I craved him, more of the security and control that came along, and to forget everything else.
I grabbed at his shirt desperately, needing to rip the buttons off and feel the skin of his hard chest.
I needed him to kiss me back harder, more passionately. He was being too gentle, too caring.
I shifted to sit atop my knees, unable to get close enough to him now.
My bare front pushed against his side, the suit coat hanging open shamelessly. I cupped his strong jaw, heart swelling at how it flexed with each expert move of his mouth.
"Please." This is what it had come to. I had fallen from the highest mountain on to the palm of his hand.
But it's okay, he keeps you safe.
I let my hand trail down from his jaw, along his neck and over his expansive chest. I felt the drum of his heart under my bold fingers, hoping and wishing he'd be the sensible one here.
He grabbed my wrist, but forced it down to press against the hardened bulge in his pants. Simultaneously he groaned lowly at the contact, while I breathed out shakily, each nerve alight with sinfully feral need.
Our dark surroundings lit up, and I pulled away from the intoxicating kiss to find several strobes of lights flashing past the thick trees. The bright lights were followed by the screech of several cars pulling up to the house.
My head snapped back to the man by me, fearing he had called on Mogilevich.
I ripped my hand away from him and tugged the coat of his suit tighter around my nude body.
"Wellesley," he muttered out, explaining the sudden intrusion. With that he lifted himself up and took out his gun.
"No, don't," I stumbled after him as he strode around the couch, heart racing, "don't shoot."
Sober but in a daze, I limped on my injured foot to stand by him once his footsteps halted at the top of the staircase leading downstairs. His jaw clenched at the unwelcome guests.
I flinched at a booming crash, before the sound of firm voices sounded at the bottom of the staircase, inside the house now.
My heart raced, burning with humiliation of the state I was in and with whom, of all people.
Instead of aiming his gun, I watched in horror as Mikhail dangled it on one finger, waiting for the rushed steps ascending the stairs to reach us.
I retreated as the frames of three large men appeared, guns aimed at Mikhail standing relaxed and still before them, his gun unthreateningly on show.
Vinnie trailed behind them, followed by my father. My eyes bulged out of their head once his concerned eyes found mine. The moment he saw what I was clothed in, his expression turned furious.
I held the coat tighter around myself, close to cowering away behind the devilish man all but offering himself to our men.
"Natasha," my father sidestepped the four and headed toward me. I gulped down rising emotions, too many questions and things to say to manage out anything.
"Are you alright?" he reached me, eyes searching mine. Without another word his arms wrapped around me, and I froze in place.
"I'm fine," I whispered shakily, frightened of Mikhail's possible reaction of the show of affection. He gave none.
"There's a doctor coming," I informed my father quietly, finding his confused gaze as he pulled away, "I'm okay."
"We're leaving," he decided firmly. I frowned and found myself shaking my head.
It hadn't been him and our men to save me and kill Julio. It had been Mikhail, either acting on his own behalf or under Mogilevich's commands. Whichever it was, I couldn't drag myself away from the warm safety finally granted to me.
"I'm safe here," I stood my ground, earning all of the men to glare at me as if I had offended them and their mothers.
Mikhail remained observing the four men before him, gun hung carelessly from his finger as he held back an annoyingly smug grin.
The last thing he needed to do was further push the buttons of armed enemies agitated by my treacherous words.
"Natalia," Vinnie seethed, pushing past our men to press the barrel of his gun against Mikhail's proud chest.
"Everything's okay," I feebly tried to assure them, but the blazing fury in my father's eyes silenced me.
A gun cocked, and I realised it had been Mikhail's, forever unfazed by the threat he was under.
"She's made herself clear," he decided, eyes and gun now aimed firmly on the man stood before him, both itching to finally shoot the other.
"Sir?" Vinnie gritted out, begging for the go-ahead from my father.
I watched him pinch the bridge of his nose with a deep exhale.
He wanted to avoid Mikhail finding out I was his daughter, and therefore held further objections.
The elevator doors on the opposite end of the level slid open, and our men gathered their stances to aim at the sudden addition.
"Go with the doctor, Natalia," Mikhail advised lowly, attention remaining solely on Vinnie in whatever tensioned stand-off they held.
I focused back on my father, pleading with him one last time.
"We'll talk later," he agreed, offering me a faint smile before turning on his heel. Vinnie scowled at me, but hissed when Mikhail's gun pushed into his stomach warningly.
Before I limped over to the doctor standing by the elevator with confusion of the current situation, I watched Mikhail pull my father aside for a private chat.