E.W.E.W - L.W.T.B.B Copyright © 2012-2018 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.
Current Chapter Posted - Saturday, August 25, 2018
Can't believe I'm updating this 'early'! Hope you all enjoy this next one, it's packed with a lot of scary (slightly daddy) Daniel Ivanov! Also, if there's any editing mistakes, then I'm sorry! I'm just too excited to post this and I might have missed a few.
I had to write blood as blxxd because I don't want the ratings to get changed, so just be aware of that!
Pakhan = Boss
Brat = brother
Bulls = bodyguards
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{ Chapter 42 } : Daniel Ivanov's damned soul
"Don't surround yourself by sinners. That makes you one, too."
As a little girl, I'd visualized my future a certain way, hoping to closely follow the words of wisdom my father would occasionally utter around the house as I grew up.
"When someone does bad, do good, Jodanna. Don't stay quiet. Seek justice."
I had wanted to be raised in a loving home with both parents, go on family vacations to Brazil and Scotland, be surrounded by friends who loved and knew everything about me, pour my energy into studying what I was passionate about, and find myself in an easy-going relationship with a stable guy who cherished and loved me to bits and pieces.
Instead my father was dead, and my mother had raised Michael as a single mother. We'd never travelled as a unit because any money we had saved up could easily be put to better use on the house. Instead I had to hide many truths from my friends because of my shame and guilt, and the guy I was dating was perfect in every sense of the word, but our relationship was anything but stable.
Samuel Rafael Adams was an illegal underground MMA fighter and, as I'd just learned five minutes ago, was son to a woman who stemmed from a line of powerful mafia legacy.
It's as if someone had taken a sledgehammer and smashed my mirror, the one that had once reflected all my wishes and hopes for a clean future, and left it in shattered pieces at my feet, with my mouth gaping open as I could do nothing but watch the horror in front of me unravel.
What I had never visualized was standing in my boyfriend's living room, after meeting his oh-so-lovely mother with a violent past, witnessing someone who was like his older brother drag the man he'd just shot in the kneecaps to their kitchen, leaving a bloody trail in his wake.
I was most definitely a sinner. The people in my immediate surrounding, they were all sinners. And I was no snitch. I liked my head and kneecaps intact.
I watched the scene unfold before me with something like horror gripping my being.
There'd been many surreal moments in my life, especially in the last few weeks, and this one was no different.
The man's screams were heightened by his agony as Danny grasped him from the scruff of his collar. His hands were flailing in front of him as he tried to catch onto something to ground him, since his legs were of no use. But he could only hold onto Danny's arm, the same one that was pulling him towards his demise. Because there was no doubt that Daniel Ivanov was about to kill this intruder.
Tiffany fell back against the wall in the hallway, fear sucking out every bit of color from her face. Her hand was wrapped around her throat, as if she couldn't get enough air. "Someone probably heard the gunshots," she breathed terrifyingly.
I wanted to yell at her. Someone heard us? Someone better have heard us, because Daniel is about to commit bloody murder in your damn fucking house.
I said nothing, because my voice was not functioning either. Only my eyes seem to register the moment.
When the man screamed again, Danny stamped a hand over his mouth and put a gun to his temple, his expression twisted into something feral. "Keep your mouth shut or I'll blow your brains out."
His muffled cry sent a pang ricocheting through my system. My fingers felt numb, like the feeling there was slowly ebbing away.
When the blood-splattered stairway printed into my mind, I knew it was a picture that would stay branded for as long as I breathed. Nausea climb its way up higher and higher and higher.
The man's loud cries and my heart beat worked in sync. They reverberated together in a way that was making me sick to my stomach.
When I heard a crunching noise, I realized it was Danny's fist connecting with his flesh.
Eyes closed, I measured my inhales and exhales. My knees shook, but I refused to fall to the ground. I couldn't resist gagging though when Danny hit him again.
Sam's body was plastered against the wall and he looked like he was a part of it. It was scary how there was nothing but a vacuous look on his handsome face, as if he couldn't fathom what was happening.
Daniel barked a command from the kitchen, and it sounded like Rafael and the need for duct tape.
His harshly accented words sent Sam in a tizzy. Whatever Danny demanded had him helplessly running up the stairs like a terrorized man on a suicide mission. God help Ivanov. If he so much as asked my boyfriend to help kill this man, I don't know what I'd do to him.
I wasn't capable of bodily harm like he was, but I'd fucking do something about it.
Sam took the steps two at a time, with a robot-like quality, as if he wasn't aware of his moving body. At least he was conscious enough that his sock-clad feet didn't touch the red-stained carpet of the stairway.
Suddenly, Tiffany was in motion. She went through the living room and shut all the curtains and double locked the front door. Then she came to my side and pushed my hair away from my face. "It's going to be okay," she mumbled weakly.
I looked at her like she was crazy. At least, I hadn't vomited. Yet. "He's going to kill him."
Her throat bobbed up and down. "There's no other way, Anna."
* * *
All three of us wordlessly watched as Daniel taped the intruder's mouth, with the black wraps Sam used around his knuckle before a fight. Best part of the joke - he tied the intruder to the same chair I'd occupied earlier.
Danny had a dry sense of humour, because he made sure Tiffany's favorite wing-backed chair had several layers of kitchen towel covering it before seating the man, so his bleeding knees wouldn't stain the upholstery.
Then he parked his a$s on the edge of the dining table and faced his victim.
The man had small beady eyes that were set so deep into his face that you almost couldn't see them. He was bald, very short and stocky, and with mocha-skin that was spoiled with frown lines and various battle scars. Bruises were forming were Danny had clocked him, and blxxd was slowly trickling down his broken nose.
This man was defeated, but adrenaline kept pumping through his system in a hearty dose of encouragement. After all, that's the only defence he had against Danny's interrogation.
Daniel Ivanov, on the other hand, was calm, collected and composed now that his prey was where he wanted him.
The thing that was unsettling about Danny was that he walked around with this air of indifference, but I knew now that it was all a façade. Underneath it, he kept this nefarious and lethal side of his locked up in the same places where he probably hid his weapons. Now that it was opened, it bled into the room and suffused the air.
Danny took his time, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He lit it and took a puff. Maybe it calmed him. Or maybe it was all for show. His gaze dropped down to the gun in his hand and he cocked it slowly, the sound as loud as a grenade.
Then he pinned the dead man with his dead eyes.
"It's a good thing you kept your mouth shut," he rasped, cigarette dangling from his mouth. There was a sardonic smirk arching his lips. "I didn't want to have to blow your brains out." The Russian accent he kept so well hidden tinged his perfect English. "I like this shirt too much. Would have been a shame to stain it."
He was referring to his white silk dress shirt that looked like it cost my entire makeup collection. He flicked the butt of his cigarette towards the man, who in return jerked in annoyance.
Danny waved his gun in the man's general direction. "I didn't catch your name." He smiled, but it was still sinister. "I had no idea you'd been invited to our party. With a gun, no less." He leaned forward until his face was so close and his gun was digging into the man's pulse. "You know how I feel when strangers come uninvited in places where I am? I feel threatened," he said, the smirk wiped off his face. "People shouldn't be around me when I feel threatened. I do bad things when I'm feeling threatened."
The man was keeping quiet. Daniel Ivanov had probably succeeding in scaring the shit out of this middle-aged thug who wore an ill-fitted suit and had bottom gold-teeth, based on what I'd seen before his mouth was taped shut.
Sam and his mother were standing frozen around the scene and I had nothing more to say, save for the fact that while Daniel had saved our lives, he was a sick motherfvcker.
Moving aside his jacket lapels, Danny pulled out the man's wallet and clicked his tongue. "A good spy never brings his traces with him. Such a pity..." he said, falling back on the table and reading the man's ID. "Hmm. Juan, is it? You speak Spanish, amigo?"
Juan simply narrowed his old eyes, but you could see his body was still visibly shaking. With fear or wrath, I could no longer decipher.
Danny took out his cellphone out and began thumbing a one-handed text. "You're a foolish man, you know, Juan? On my way here, I spotted your car. Only foolish men leave footprints," Danny laughed without humour, continuing to smoke his cigarette. "I heard you upstairs, you know. I hear everything and by now you should know I have amazing aim."
He threw the wallet at Juan's chest but, of course, the man couldn't catch it. Danny looked him square in the eyes. "You threatened me, Juan. People who threaten me lose their legs."
I shuddered and looked at Sam helplessly, who watched this whole interrogation with a stony face. He wasn't unaffected though. My guess was that this side of Danny was new to Sam as well.
The phone on the table vibrated and Danny picked it up with a curse. "Brat. What have you got?" The person on the other line must have said something even worse than Danny anticipated, because his face tightened into a mask of icy fury. The calm was gone. "You kill whoever is in the car. Leave nothing behind. If there's bulls, they die, too."
Danny looked at his cell like it was offending, before casting it to the side recklessly. It clattered and broke a delicate glass of wine. He ran an impatient hand through his onyx hair, his blue eyes shining with unrestrained anger.
"I'm going to take the tape off your mouth, Juan. You're going to have to answer some questions for me. If you're a smart man who values his life, you'll cooperate. I'm sure you have a family to get back to, hmm? Make even a whimper, and I'll shoot your balls. Got it?"
Juan looked like he didn't get it. His battle-cry was muted, and he looked like he'd spit at Danny's face if he set his mouth free. Maybe even lunge at him with his teeth, now that his arms and legs were useless.
I doubt he'd be able to walk after Danny was done with him.
"Nod if you understand me, Juan."
Juan didn't nod.
Daniel stood proud in his six feet glory and gave the ceiling a martyr sigh. "Nod if you understand me, Juan."
Juan, the fool, once again, didn't nod.
I tried to shut my eyes, but not before I caught Danny pressing the tip of his cigarette into Juan's jugular, who howled to holy Jesus.
Sam's hand quickly found mine and he squeezed. My gaze momentarily flitted to his panicked one, and I saw real dread glimmering in those emerald orbs. I never wanted to see dread in my Beer Boy's eyes ever again.
Juan had tears and snot running down his face.
Tiffany was a blink away from fainting, her body propped up thanks to the kitchen island counter.
Juan was screaming behind his taped mouth and nodding feverishly. My state of distraught hiked my anxiety and I wanted to puke. I wouldn't faint. I wouldn't fall. I was going to be quiet and keep it together.
It's as if Sam and his mother didn't dare to question Danny's ways.
"Good boy," Danny chided and there was a flat moment where it came to me that maybe Danny didn't like doing this. Maybe he was just conditioned to do so. But I knew from experience that I shouldn't make excuses for bad men. "Next time you scream, I'll rip your tongue out."
The tape was ripped off Juan's mouth, who retched, his eyes looking wild. I tried not to stare at the cigarette burn mark on his neck.
My stomach churned anew.
"Fuck you," Juan screeched. "You stupid, Russian fucker –"
Danny punched him in the jaw, causing his head to whip so fast I swore I heard his neck nearly break. Cracking his knuckles, Danny gritted, "You're one of Diablo's men, aren't you? I know you're working for Henry. Tell me what you're doing here."
"Fuck you. I ain't telling you shit, you motherfucker. You shot me–"
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. I no longer bothered to close my eyes, because hearing these painful sounds was worse.
So much blood. So much red.
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Danny hissed, before pulling out a knife and bringing it to Juan's neck, who flinched and began to whimper like a child and not like a forty-something year old.
So disturbing. Yet I couldn't keep watching this, but I had, too.
"I don't work for Henry! Diablo sent me here to gather information on the boy and his mother. I swear! It's all I fvcking know!"
Danny dug his knife into his cheek, cutting up a thin line in his wrinkly skin. "What does Diablo want to know?"
"Everything. Everything, okay! Donald needed some information on the boy and it was my job to provide it before the fight!"
"Shitty job that was," Danny spoke like a true psycho, matching eyes with Juan. The knife dug deeper into Juan's cheek, to the point where he would need stitches... if he ever made it out alive. "You're sloppy. Diablo signed your death warrant by sending you here. But I guess he wasn't expecting me, huh?" I hated Danny's laugh, I concluded. It was dead, like the rest of him. "Tell me, Juan. What happens to the boy after the fight?"
Juan shook his head, his eyes bugging out and his accent coming out thicker. "I don't know, okay? I'm telling you! I don't fucking know, you piece of shit – ahhh."
"Oups." Danny's knife accidentally sliced his skin and blxxd was profusely seeping out at a frightening pace. "One more chance to tell the truth, Juan. I've got two men out there right now. One who'll kill your family if you don't cooperate with me. In fact, I think Lac is in front of your house right now. You've got a little girl, don't you? My other brat is right behind that car you left outside, the one with your partner. His life is on the line if you don't answer properly."
Juan wheezed. "I'm telling you. I don't –" Danny cocked the gun at his temple. "– Diablo doesn't care about Henry!" Juan rushed out quickly, fearing for his life. "He wants the money from the fight and the boy." He jerked his wobbly chin at Sam. "If he wins the fight, he wants to take him back to the south with him. Wants him to fight for him."
Danny's froze, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. "The Cartel wants this boy for themselves."
"They want the best fighter. Whoever survives the fight is coming back with them. Henry doesn't know," Juan shrieked. "It's all I know, I swear. Please. Please. Leave my daughter."
Daniel Ivanov's voice dropped to a lower pitch. "And this woman." He looked at Tiffany, who was halfway to the ground. "Why does he want information on her?"
Juan gulped, before his weak voice muttered, "Diablo always needs more prxstitutes. This one's older but she's Italian, ain't she?" Then something like ice hardened Juan's eyes when he looked at Danny, probably because he knew what a bad hand he'd been given. Probably because he knew he was going to die. "Diablo likes fvcking Italian bxtches more than Spanish whxres. He gets off on it –"
A turbulent look slapped onto Daniel's face and a new surge of anger clawed at him. He dropped his weapons. His hands, fast like a cobra, caged Juan's throat and squeezed so hard he'd begun sucking the life out of him. He was turning red and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. "Not one more word of disrespect out of your mouth. Or I'll really kill you with my bare hands before you have the chance to say a prayer."
Sam launched after Danny, but I held him back.
Danny let Juan's throat go, who gasped loudly, before choking on his saliva. The gun was pressed to Juan's head and he was seconds away from blasting his brain matter all over the kitchen floor.
Something halted him in his steps.
"Viviana," Danny spoke chillingly. "You love these chairs, don't you?"
Remaining goosebumps broke out on my arms. No. No. No...
Tiffany was dragging her body towards Danny with the help of the counter. "Danny –"
"Be a dear and get me a pillow, would you? Make it one you don't like," he said. "I'd feel horrible if I spilled anymore blxxd in your home. So bring me a pillow. Now."
She tossed him a soft brown pillow with tassels. He caught it with one hand. Juan was still gasping for breath.
"Mama," Sam pleaded with his mother.
She shook with emotions, aiming hatred at Juan who'd just called her a b!tch and potential prxstitute. "Mio figlio, we turn an eye when needed."
Danny grinned manically. "Spoken like a perfect mobster wife, Tiffany." He turned to Juan once more. "Tiffany here knows people worst than me. You're lucky I'm in their place. Say a prayer, will you, Juan?"
The chair slid back-and-forth as Juan struggled with his binds, releasing frightening yells that bounced in the room and hit us right in the chest. "FVCK YOU!"
Danny stepped behind him, his blue eyes wild with his intention. "That's not a prayer, amigo. What a shame." His hand was back on his throat, jerking his bald head back until it touched his abs. "Take a breath for me, Juan. Because it's going to be the last one you ever take."
No. No. No. Danny had asked us to go to the basement while he interrogated this fool. None of us listened and now we were paying the price.
Vengeance poured out of Juan in the form of curse words. Damning everything and everyone in his vicinity. He screamed for God to help, but even the big man upstairs couldn't do anything.
Daniel Ivanov was the executioner.
"You guys might want to look away."
None of us looked away, drawn to the killing before us like a moth to a flame.
Between his raging-fit, Juan took a last breath.
Daniel Ivanov brought down the pillow and pressed it against Juan's face until it soaked every sound. Juan's body contorted painfully as his lungs ached for air, like he was a fish being dragged out of the water. Danny's muscles flexed with the exertion it took to suffocate Juan to death.
Juan's arms bulged and even his legs looked like they'd briefly moved, but it was all done within seconds.
Danny Ivanov took his breath away.
* * *
There's a bit of sin in all of us.
Sam slid down the wall and watched a dead Juan. He was still holding my hand like it was a lifeline, but I couldn't find it within myself to squeeze it reassuringly.
Tiffany spoke with an eerie sense of composure, "What do we do with the body?"
"My cousin Viktor is coming," Danny said, taking a dish towel and wiping his hands clean. He sullied the lily-white cloth with his hell red. "He'll take care of it. It will be as if it never happened...You all should have stayed away when I warned you, too. I could have done this alone."
"Where will the body go?"
"We'll burn it in one of the warehouses. I'll make sure my uncle doesn't find out."
"Will he hurt you if he finds out?"
"No one hurts me anymore, Tiff. But yes, in other words, him and the other families will attempt to punish Vik, Lac, Vas and myself."
Tiffany closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Don't. You're family. So is Rafael. I protect my family. Anyone tries to hurt you, I hurt them."
Danny gave us his back as he dialed a number on his cellphone. "Brat. He's dead, Lac. Leave his daughter. She's young, yeah? No harm. Vas already did his job. His partner's gone. Vik's on his way here. He's going to have another fit when he sees this body. And then he'll kill me because I disturbed him while he was with his woman. Yeah. Yeah. He gave information. I have his ID. We need to start digging deeper to find Diablo and his men. I'm going to need some bulls for this job. No one's safe. Yeah. Got it. You, too. Soon. Poka."
Tiffany was busy untying the dead man's limbs from her favorite chair.
I fell to my knees in front of Sam. With feeble hands, I encased his face. "Baby."
Eyes with unshed tears turned my way. "Anna," he whispered hauntingly. "My head's a mess. I don't even..."
"Shh," I hushed back. I get it. He doesn't have to say a word. I kissed his forehead. "It's going to be okay soon."
Or maybe I'd just told a lie.
He sounded so miserable when he said, "Tesoro, I can't wrap my head around anything. Mi mama lied to me my whole life and now Danny just killed a man in my house. A man who claims people want to take me south. I don't even know what that fvcking means."
I wrapped my arms around him and he rested his head between my breasts, his eyes clenched shut painfully. "No one's taking you away from me."
He wrapped his arms around me and everything in the world stilled and felt right for just these few seconds.
A throat cleared above us.
Our attention was snagged, but we did not let loose of one another.
Danny's blue eyes held a hint of remorse, but I wasn't fooled. We observed him as he rolled up the sleeves of his button down, revealing strong and veiny forearms. Danny's body exerted power. I had to remind myself that while he looked like a piece of art carved by a renaissance artist himself, Danny was not chiseled perfection. Those hands were capable of taking a life, and we'd just witnessed it all.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said quietly, as if we were business associates. "I can imagine what's going through your head. This is going to be difficult for awhile–"
"Difficult?" Sam hissed, breaking away from me. Even from his position on the floor, Sam was staring down a standing Danny. "You come into my home and drop a bomb regarding my mother's past, thanks for the warning, by the way. You tell me David is not my father and that I'm related to some fvcking Italian mafia family in New York, and now you've killed one of Henry's thugs in the same place where I eat my cereal for breakfast? That's fvcking twisted, man! This dead guy is going to have more consequences! And I'm tired of seeing people die and get hurt around me."
Daniel acted like he hadn't heard Sam's monologue. "I didn't kill Henry's men. I did worse. I killed one of Diablo's men. I killed one of the members affiliated with the Mexican cartel. Ever heard of them?'
"No, Danny. In case you don't know, I live under a fvcking rock. I go to school, play football, hang out with my friends and Tesoro over here. Oh, and I fight for Richard on the side and make cash. That's been my sole purpose this whole time."
"Apparently, things are going to change if we don't act soon! Your sole purpose won't be just fighting for Richard and living in Lalaland. This is bigger, Rafe. Much more fvcked up than I anticipated!" Danny crouched down and yelled in Sam's face. Sam flinched and recoiled from him. "The Cartel does human trafficking. You want to know why I killed that fvcker? Because the Cartel takes innocent people – women, especially, and take them down south where they're sold as sex slaves to more corrupted fvckers. They kidnap little kids and take them to farms where they condition them and mold them into whatever they want, stripping them away from their morals. I may carry a gun, but I still have morals, Rafael. You may fight, but you still have morals. You be sure to remember that. Oh, and boys like you? Boys who fight illegally for cash? Raw talent like yours? They like to cash that in. They'll kidnap you and break you just like they break the women and children. They make fighting for Richard sound like a joke. If they take you, Sam, they own you. You fight within an inch of your life for their blxxd money until you're dead and nothing but a shell of the person you once were. You want to talk about difficult? Let's start here!"
Danny's chest raised up and down with his booming scream. His hands were fisted by his side and he looked like he wanted to hit something.
"I'm not going nowhere," Sam pressed through gritted teeth.
"My son's not going anywhere," Tiffany's voice shook. "No one's taking him."
Danny didn't look convinced.
"No one's taking him," I repeated to Danny as well. "You're going to fvcking make sure of that."
For the nth time today, Danny smiled wryly. "That is what family is for, no? To protect. I will. Starting now, I'm going to have my bulls keeping watch on your house twenty-four seven. You're going to have escorts wherever you go. No one's fvcking around anymore."
Sam's mother came down next to Danny, where she laid a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate what you did today, but it doesn't happen again. You saved us, but this is what I ran away from. The deaths and killings. I know what you are, but I can't have this happening in my home again."
"I'm sorry." Danny's head hung low, a shadow of shame flickering on his expression.
Tiffany's fingers delved into Danny's hair with tenderness and held him like that. "You scared me there, Danny," her voice was laced with emotions. "Maybe it's a good thing my daughter didn't end up with you."
Danny smiled, but it was so sad, when he glanced at Tiffany. "Make no mistake, Tiff. I didn't just love your daughter; I worshipped her. I wasn't always like this."
"I know." she whispered back with the same sadness. Her palm touched his jaw. "What changed, mio figlio?"
Danny's armor slipped back into place, and he looked like an untouchable solider. "I lost her. And, somewhere along the way, I lost that boy you once knew. Don't try to see the good in me, Tiffany. I killed that man with my bare hands because that's all I've known after her. Now I do what's necessary to survive and protect those who I care for."
"Danny."
"The boy who wanted to make your daughter his wife is gone. Don't try to look for him. My soul is damned and I've got a one-way ticket to hell. My uncle made sure of that, made sure that this is the only life I know. Just let me do my job and take care of you and Sam in the only way I know. That's all I can give."
Tiffany's shoulders deflated.
At the same spilt second, the doorbell rang.
Danny rolled his shoulders as he hoisted himself up. "That must be Viktor."
Somehow the door opened on its own, maybe the lock was picked, and another man who looked like a carbon copy of Daniel Ivanov strolled in with a meaner and tougher demeanor.
Great, this one also looked like he was here to raise hell.
They were the same height, but this Viktor...had more muscle mass on him. He was tanner, with the same dark-colored hair and pale blue irises.
Viktor took one sweeping look at us and the scene before him, including the dead body. "I left Inga for this mess, Danny. Be glad I'm not Pakhan, because otherwise you'd be six feet under the ground."
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A/N's: I wrote this in six hours! Couldn't wait to share it with y'all. Of course I can improve it so I'll come back and fix anything that needs fixing. Anywhooooo. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON DANNY IN PARTICULAR? VIKTOR IVANOV? SAM NOT BEING DAVID'S KID? JUAN? THE WHOLE CARTEL THING? ALSO TO THOSE WHO READ ENDLESS BONDS...INGA?! Just remember this takes place before EB!
Question: How did you guys find this book? I know some of you are old readers, but to the new ones?