6. Tatiana

6

TATIANA

I t wasn't like I'd seen in movies or read in books.

There was no slow, gradual shift back into consciousness. The pain was so intense that I forcibly shot upright and clutched at my throat. I clawed at my neck, trying to inhale a full breath of air that didn't burn like acid.

I was discombobulated, my confusion so jarring that my head spun before it started pounding right behind my eyes. I imagined someone inside my skull with a pickaxe just going to town, seeing how long they could continue to strike before I ripped out my own eyeballs to relieve the pressure.

I forced my hands away from my throat, as the pain was too much, and I wasn't helping the situation. Instead, I gripped the blankets beneath me. I didn't know where I was, the room too blurry and dark, with just a sliver of daylight peeking through the thick curtains.

Although I didn't know my location, I assumed I was somewhere in close proximity to the skull-masked fighter. He'd saved me… whoever he was.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, thinking back to what happened.

He killed that man for me. But at what cost? Was I now his prisoner? Had he kidnapped me when he realized he knew who my family was? On instinct, I lifted my hands and touched my hair. Like my real hair. My wig was gone.

I wasn't so up my own ass that I assumed everyone knew who I was, but anyone who visited Butcher and Son sure as fuck would. They all ran in the same corrupted circles.

Maybe he'd try to get a ransom for my return. Or maybe he'd kill me and send my brothers my head in a box as a warning— just for shits and giggles.

But when I shifted in bed and felt the tugging on my arm, all of that fear left as I saw the IV.

The bag was nearly empty, and I'd seen enough medical supplies and interventions with my brothers and their men getting patched up to know the only thing in there was saline.

I turned off the machine and disconnected the IV, bending my arm at the elbow to stop the blood. And then I looked around for a moment.

I wasn't wearing my oversized jacket, but I could see it, as well as the wig, sitting beside the bed.

The room was pretty bare and basic, with no distinguishing characteristics that would tell me where exactly I was or who owned this place. I got off the bed and made my way to the window. My entire body was so sore, my head throbbing, my throat feeling so constricted and swollen that every time I swallowed, it was like acid burning me from the inside out.

I pulled the curtain aside and saw the early-morning rays of sun starting to peek over the skyscrapers. It lit across the city, and I recognized the scene. I didn't know precisely where I was, but I knew I was right on the outskirts of Desolation.

It was when the confusion and discombobulated feeling started to fade that the real panic settled in. I turned toward where my jacket was and stumbled forward, frantically searching around to see if my purse was with it.

A sigh of relief—and dread—filled me when I saw it was tucked underneath. I dug inside for my cell phone. Although it was a burner, there were several texts from Giana, asking where I was and if I was okay.

Then the calls started from her. The last text I received showed an unknown number with just four words.

I knew it was from one of my brothers.

Unknown

We're coming for you.

I sank to the edge of the bed and closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead as sheer dread settled inside me. The pain consuming my entire body intensified.

I knew Dmitry and Nikolai probably called my friends until they found the only one who knew where I was. Giana.

I couldn't be mad at her or blame her for folding. My brothers could make anyone crumble without saying a single word.

"Fuck," I said breathlessly and grabbed my jacket. I threw it on just as I felt wetness drip down my arm. I pushed the sleeve of the jacket up and looked at the crook, seeing the IV site bleeding, but I didn't have time to deal with that right now. I fixed my jacket, grabbed my shoes and wig, and went to the door.

I was quiet as I turned the knob, fully expecting it to be locked, so when it opened easily, I almost gasped, then slipped out. It only took a second to know I had to go left to get out.

I was clearly in an apartment. That much was evident by the view from the bedroom I'd been in. But it was confirmed by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows just off to the side, showing the city right outside.

I braced a hand on the wall beside me as I silently made my way down the short hallway. It was only when I rounded the corner that I heard the clink of something being set down. My heart was racing, and I froze.

I knew I had limited time to get out of here before Nikolai and Dmitry arrived. Even if I was right past the city limits of Desolation, it would take a good twenty minutes for them to get here. That meant I had like ten minutes to get my ass going, if the timestamp on my brother's text was anything to go by.

"Come out here, little Russian doll."

The voice… I knew it.

But it couldn't be his… right ?

I made slow work of moving closer and rounding the corner to enter the living room. The kitchen was on the smaller side and tucked into the back of the apartment, but it was sleek and modern and reeked of high-end everything. Especially the appliances.

I could see Gio, my sister-in-law's brother, sitting at the two-seater breakfast counter, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. I felt a rock suddenly lodge itself right in the center of my throat and started twisting my hands together nervously.

His short, dark hair was disheveled as if he'd just woken up, and my gaze was drawn to all the tattoos that covered his arms and chest, even the wide expanse of his back.

I'd never seen him in anything but a suit, and the sight before me was breath stealing… in a totally inappropriate way.

Although it was pretty obvious he was the fighter from last night, it was still shocking to realize he not only killed his opponent but also my assailant.

D'yavol. The devil.

He shifted on the barstool to face me, one arm braced on the marble countertop of the breakfast bar, the other one resting on his lap. He held a black, ceramic coffee mug and looked relaxed, but I could see his gaze sweeping down my face before stopping at my neck.

Instinctively, I swallowed and then winced as the pain in my throat made itself known.

I saw something darken in his otherwise bright-blue eyes and took a step back—though I knew this man wouldn't hurt me.

My initial shock came crashing back to me, and panic settled inside my gut once more. "I have t-to go," I stuttered out hoarsely. Even talking hurt like a bitch.

There were so many questions running through my mind from last night.

Why was he fighting in the underground circuit?

Why did he keep his identity hidden?

Did anyone know he was killing people in illegal cage fights?

Why did he bring me back here?

"My brothers are coming," I spat out like word-vomit. "They know where I'm at, and I don't want to stick around and cause more problems."

Gio didn't say anything, and his expression showed nothing. I was pretty sure he could handle himself if it came to a fight with my brothers, given the fact that I'd seen him kill a man with his bare hands last night. But I wasn't so confident that he could take on Dmitry and Nikolai at the same time.

My brothers were ruthless and vicious. They didn't get the reputation of being psychotic for no reason.

When Gio still said nothing, I started making my way toward the front door, looking between him and the exit, thinking he might try to stop me. But he just sat there and drank his coffee. I tried not to focus on how big he looked, sitting on that little barstool, his muscles defined and bulging.

I'd never been one to appreciate tattoos. My brothers were covered in them, and every single man who worked for them had some sort of permanent insignia inked onto their bodies. But looking at Gio's had my heart fluttering a little and other parts of me warming.

He was just so… big.

But it was when I got to the door that I realized I had no way to get home. That was when I felt overwhelming heat at my back. I spun around to see Gio standing a foot from me, his head downcast from his towering height as he focused on me.

His massive, imposing body took up every single inch of my eyesight.

"You don't need to run away just because you're afraid of how your brothers will react. They should probably learn what happened, no?"

His gaze went to my throat, and I lifted my hand to lightly touch what I assumed was horrendous bruising. It was so tender and felt so swollen. But I was shaking my head before he even finished speaking.

The last thing I wanted to do was admit to my brothers that I'd been foolish enough—and too fucking stupid for my own good—to go and put myself in a very dangerous situation.

I was actually surprised Gio was giving me this option to "run away," as he put it, or to stay and face my brothers. Apparently, being related by marriage didn't mean all of his loyalties belonged to our family.

"I think I'd rather face my brothers alone." My voice was soft, almost tender.

Truth be told, it would probably be smarter for me to confront Dmitry and Nikolai's wrath with a third party there. Maybe they'd force themselves to stay calm.

I ground my back molars. I knew that was a lie right away.

Because my brothers didn't give a shit who was watching when they went on a rampage. Hell, they killed men just for looking at them the wrong way.

When Gio said nothing, I took that as my cue to go.

"There's a car waiting downstairs to take you home," he told me. When I said nothing, he added low and deep, "It's your life, but you know as well as I do that your brothers are going to find out what happened one way or another."

I didn't know why I felt sassy, but a sudden surge of defiance rose up in me.

This man saved my life. Being anything but kind and generous should have been the furthest thing from my mind.

"You're not afraid of them, are you?" I wondered if my taunting question caught him off guard. Because, for a second, I thought his expression showed surprise.

And then he started laughing in this husky way that told me he didn't think anything was humorous. He was just… shocked.

Gio ran a hand over his face. He had a day's worth of stubble covering his jaw and cheeks, so when his palm skimmed over it, I could hear the light scraping sound from the motion.

"No," he said and put that stoic expression of his back in place. "I can promise you that the Petrov brothers are the least of my worries."

He leaned in until his lips were close to my ear. I felt his warm breath tease the shell and forced myself to dig my nails into my palms so I wouldn't shiver in response.

"My fear of your brothers is so low it's rotting in hell, little Russian doll." He gave a low growl, my shiver escaping my reins and slithering down my body.

He pulled back, and his expression turned dark before he said, "You know why that is?"

I licked my lips and shook my head, even though I knew Gio was just as dangerous as any monster I'd ever come in contact with.

"Малышка, я смерть." Little girl, I am death.

I didn't know why hearing him call me that in my native tongue felt so illicit—salacious even. But my body immediately responded, heating all over again.

A second later, he took a step back, and I exhaled, not realizing I'd been holding my breath. I stared into his bright, crystalline-blue eyes and forced myself to open the door and leave.

I hauled ass toward the elevator at the end of the hall, and only once inside did I lean against the wall and exhale a breath that was shaky as hell. I was gripping the silver bar behind me as if my life depended on it.

Once I was out of the building, I sucked in a lungful of polluted morning air. True to Gio's word, there was a sleek, black car waiting for me right outside his building. I looked behind me and knitted my brows as I noticed what I had assumed was an apartment building was actually what looked like a warehouse or business building. Certainly not where someone would live.

But I didn't have time to givea shit about anything but my future and the ass-reaming my brothers were going to give me over this.

I didn't have to guess if that car was for me, since the driver stood at the back passenger door, holding it open and smiling at me.

When I was close enough, he addressed me by name, and I found myself seamlessly slipping inside, not even questioning what was happening right now.

Once on the road, I gave the driver my address, but he told me he already knew where he was going. And so for the next couple of minutes, I just sat there, trying to formulate some kind of plan for when I got home and had to face the proverbial firing squad.

I had no idea how I looked. I could have checked in the front-facing camera of my phone for any evidence of how my night actually went. But I was a coward because I didn't want to see any of that shit.

I grabbed the burner cell out of my purse with shaky fingers and dialed. Though my second eldest brother was pretty unhinged and known as being a sociopath, I'd probably be able to reason with him more than with Dmitry.

It only rang twice before the caller picked up. There was a heartbeat of heavy, hard silence, and I closed my eyes, resting my head back against the seat and bracing myself.

"I'm on the way back to my apartment," I said with a steady voice, surprising myself that it wasn't shaking—although it sounded hoarse and nothing like me. "So just meet me there."

The fact that he stayed so quiet scared the hell out of me.

"If you're not there in fifteen minutes, Tati, I'm going to fucking lose it. Do you understand?" Nikolai's voice was calm and even as hell despite his words.

He was pissed the fuck off .

I swallowed and rubbed my eyes, knowing my brothers would never hurt me, but I also knew, in order to get their frustration out, they'd leave a pile of bodies in their wake.

"I'll be there." I hung up before he could say anything else, which was probably the worst thing I could've done in this situation. I wanted to save my voice, but I also didn't want to talk about it at all.

I didn't want to feel his anger and disappointment and worry. And I knew that's what all this stemmed from. My brothers had been worried about me.

I caused that.

"I have to be home in fifteen minutes," I whispered to the driver, not elaborating, but if he worked for Gio, he knew not to ask questions.

I opened my eyes to see him glance at me in the rearview mirror. He gave me a slight nod, and I felt the car accelerate.

All hell was about to break loose, and I was right in the center of it.

Shit.