1. Valentina

Chapter 1

Valentina

If I close my eyes, I can almost smell the sweet perfume of roses. See their soft, scarlet petals trailing across the floor. Feel the touch of a lover across my skin, from tender presses of lips across my shoulders to reverent brushes of fingertips sliding down my waist, like ghosts whispering their love one breath at a time, lulling me into a comfortable sleep.

If I keep my eyes closed a moment longer, I can continue the game of pretend. I can tell myself that the coarse rope binding my wrists behind my back isn't real, that the copper tang in the air is a trick of the mind, that the ache behind my eyes is from staying up all night, consumed by love, instead of burning with hatred. That I can wake up any moment, and none of the pain tearing through my heart or body is real.

But the harsh grind of a metal door scraping against a concrete floor can't be mistaken for anything else. The way my captor's footsteps thud down the hall, a hum in the air as he happily returns to his most precious prize, can't be erased. The frantic beat of my heart, fluttering against my ribs like a caged bird, can't be wished away.

Reality wraps its icy arms around me in an embrace that squeezes so tight, it suffocates.

I can't play pretend, no matter how much I want to. I can't sit here and do nothing. I can't say I love my men and let my psycho ex-boyfriend win.

I have no doubt that my men are looking for me right this very second. Andrei will be barking orders to everyone within earshot, ensuring that not a single moment is wasted. Mikhail will be combing security feeds and spending thousands by the second to increase the Bratva's surveillance parameters. Ezra will be scouring the earth for any trace of me, hunting me down with every tool at his disposal, legal or otherwise.

It's not a matter of if they will find me, but when.

I need to ensure I survive until then.

I need to ensure I survive in one piece.

A shiver runs down my spine as my captor draws near. If you had asked me six months ago, I would have told you that Liam West, my ex-boyfriend-slash-boss, was harmless. Lovestruck, sure, but average in every other facet. Not a threat. Not violent or sadistic or covetous. He was, in my mind, as normal as any businessman could be.

But the memory of the needle, the ache in the muscle and the bruise across my neck, remain as reminders of his true nature. The drugs in my system may have worn off by now, but the memory of my kidnapping never will.

Liam West is a fucking traitor . A stalker. A man obsessed with binding me to him, stealing me away from my intended to claim me as his. But he's too late. My heart and body already belong to three other men—three men who will tear Liam to shreds for everything he's done . . . and has yet to do.

By the time Liam shoulders open my prison door, I'm ready for him. He hums appreciatively as the door screams shut behind him. "If I'd known you'd look this good tied up, zhena , I would have suggested it years ago."

As he scans my body from head to toe, a ripple of delight in his eyes, bile rises to the back of my throat. I have no doubt I look as ragged as I feel, from the ache in my limbs to the scratch in my throat and all the other nicks and cuts along my skin. My beautiful wedding gown that Celia custom designed lay in shreds across my shoulders, pieces of the bodice and skirt torn off in the struggle to relocate me from the chapel to this dungeon.

I fought Liam every step of the way until he sucker punched me in the gut and knocked me out cold.

The fucking bastard.

I wish I had some of Ezra's skills to get out of these ropes and strangle the motherfucker with them.

The past few times he's come to check on me, he's been empty-handed, save his sinister smile. This time, he bears a tripod tucked under his arm and a tablet clutched in one of his hands. With a smile, Liam crosses the distance between us and plants a kiss on the top of my head. "Be a good girl, and maybe we can see about untying these, hm?" He fingers the rope that cuts across my chest and ties me to the cold metal chair. "Let you sleep in a bed tonight instead of that chair." He cups my chin and tilts my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Don't you want to share your husband's bed tonight, Valentina?" His fingertip traces the seam of my lips, brushing against the gag shoved between them.

If he hooks that finger between my teeth to remove the gag, I'll bite the damn thing off.

A silent moment passes between us as he gazes down at me. Then, without another word, he gets to work. Humming happily to himself, he sets up the tripod and tablet across from me, flipping it so that the screen faces me. After angling it just right and tapping the screen, he smiles broadly as the front-facing camera clicks on. I catch my ragged appearance and clench my eyes shut.

I hope no one ever sees me like this.

"Perfect. Now all we have to do is wait." Liam steps behind me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, leaning in and burying his nose in my hair. He breathes deep, a shudder rolling through him as he catches a whiff of my conditioner. "Vanilla and honey," he groans, sucking in a breath. "Your favorite."

It's not, and as much as I want to laugh at him for misremembering, a shard of ice slices deep inside my heart as my mom's face flashes to mind. She loved vanilla and honey, not me.

I hope she isn't looking down at me from Heaven. I don't want her to see this.

I hear footsteps and two men talking, their voices carrying as though far away. The room Liam and I are in is silent, and as far as I know, it's only us in this place . . . wherever that is. I screw my eyes shut and try to remember where Liam took me after our wedding ceremony, but it's all a blur of blindfolds and sharp turns from the back of a moving vehicle, until he gut-punched me.

I have no clue where we are.

Dread settles heavy in my gut, but hope cuts through it just as quickly as I remember who the fuck my boyfriends are.

Ezra's a jack-of-all-bloody-trades, part bodyguard, part tracker, part enforcer. If anyone can find me, it's him. With Mikhail's money and Andrei's influence within the Bratva backing him, nothing will stop them from finding me.

A voice cuts through the tablet speaker. "It is empty. She is not here."

My heart drops.

Ezra.

"Well, someone's been here, or there wouldn't be blood all over the fucking hardwood." Mikhail's voice pitches as he lets out a frustrated yell. "Where the fuck did that suka take her?"

I'm right here , I want to scream. Come find me. I'm here.

"Take out frustration on enemy, Mikhail," Ezra chastises, his voice louder than before. They must be walking closer to the microphone. Is Liam playing a recording from earlier in the day, or are we spying on them live?

"Wait—what the fuck is that?" Footsteps, then a growl, loud enough that it reverberates through the room. " Ezra. Get over here."

Liam takes a breath and presses a kiss to my cheek. "Smile for the camera, zhena. " With a tug, he unties the knot holding my gag in place and removes it from my mouth, dropping the soiled cloth to my lap. "We have an audience."

My heart slams harder against my ribs, wanting to flee Liam's side and return to my men's. I stare at the screen and wait for my men to appear. All I see is a tiny picture of me and Liam in the corner. The rest of the image is black.

Paper rustles through the speaker, and the image on the screen lightens from black to white as something shifts on their side. Mikhail's face fades into view, his warm amber eyes cutting into my soul as our gazes meet through the video feed. A wave of Russian flows past his lips, too fast for me to catch what he's saying.

The image blurs and Ezra's face replaces Mikhail's. The audio crackles as he exhales hard.

"That bastard. I'm gonna cut him up into little, tiny pieces and feed him to the fucking rats. Do you hear me, mudak ? I'm fucking coming for you." Mikhail's anger roars like thunder, sending fresh tears to my eyes.

"Mikhail—" My voice cracks. I swallow, but it doesn't do shit when your throat is dry as fuck. I try again. "Ezra?—"

Liam cuts me off before I can get any other words out. "Isn't she beautiful, boys?" He caresses my cheek while my two lovers glare at him through the screen. "I thought you might want one last look."

" Fuck you?—"

" Mikhail. " Ezra sighs. "What do you want, Liam? Money? Women? We will give all in exchange for Valentina." His expression remains passive, but his eyes burn with contained fury, sparking like embers in the night sky.

I have no doubt he's lying. All of my men will tear Liam limb from limb before they give him anything, after what he's done.

Liam hums idly, like he's considering Ezra's question. "What I want?" His grip on my cheek tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. I flinch as the inside of my cheek presses painfully against my teeth. "Why, I have everything I want right here." He leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips. As our eyes meet, his shoulders tense and a darkness fills his gaze. "But now that you mention it, perhaps there is one other thing I want, since you're both here." Releasing my cheek, he slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out a switchblade. With a flick of his wrist, the blade slides free from the handle and glints in the light. "I seem to recall one of you having a fondness for knives."

Panic ripples across my skin. Mikhail stabbed Liam in the shoulder the night Liam assaulted me in the alley. Then, he gave me that very same knife to hold while Ezra carried me back inside the club, all four of us leaving Liam to his own devices as he lay bloodied and bruised on the dirty concrete.

I stopped my men from killing Liam because I didn't want to watch him die. I didn't want to watch him suffer.

Now, I might pay for that kindness.

Liam pretends to study the blade, scraping the pad of his thumb against its edge. He pulls his finger back, and a bright red line forms as his blood quickly pools around a shallow cut. "It would be a shame if my hand slipped."

Ezra growls. "Do not touch her?—"

Liam's eyes flash dangerously, and he bares his teeth at the camera. "She is mine. I'll touch her whenever I fucking please." He rubs his bloodied thumb against my cheek, visibly streaking my skin red. The copper tang of his blood fills my nose, and I hold my breath and clench my eyes shut to keep my stomach from churning.

If I keep my eyes closed, I can play pretend ? —

"If you don't believe me, I'll have to prove it to you."

My eyes snap open just in time to catch a glimpse of my men's fury as Liam swoops in for a brutal kiss, locking our lips together in a grandiose display of affection. He grips my shoulder tight with his bloodied hand, no doubt leaving another smear of red, like he's marking his territory.

A whimper catches in my throat, and he smiles against my lips, no doubt having heard the sound. I pray my men didn't hear it.

When he finally pulls back, he shoves my face away from his, a dark laugh passing his lips. "See, boys? Mine to touch all I want." His gaze flicks lower, and dread seizes my spine.

"Don't," I breathe, my voice barely a whisper. " Please. " The last thing I want is for Mikhail and Ezra to witness my shame as Liam forces himself on me. I meet my ex's eyes and plead for the part of him that might actually care for me to hear me now, to stop this before it's too late.

If that part of him still exists, it doesn't listen.

"Hold still, zhena, or I'll nick that pretty skin of yours." Liam flicks the blade against my shoulder, cutting my dress strap free. It falls limp, and Liam drags the flat edge of the blade across my chest on his way to cutting the other one free. He pauses then, like he expected my dress to fall from my body from gravity alone, his eyes narrowing like it offends him. With a scowl, he taps the sharp edge of his knife to the dip in the sweetheart neckline, pricking my skin with the tip of the blade. I flinch, and his eyes flick up to my face. "Don't move, baby, or what happens is your fault."

I suck in my cheeks and bite down on both sides, hoping the pain will ground me enough not to move . I glance away from Liam to see the screen. Ezra's face is missing, but Mikhail's is right there. His anger morphs before my eyes, turning softer once tears pool in my eyes. "Count your tears for me, love, and I'll make the bastard pay for each and every one, I promise. "

As Liam grabs the top edge of my bodice and starts carving through the fabric, it's Mikhail's voice that keeps me sane. He murmurs things to me, gentle things, but I can't make out the words over the sound of my dress tearing. Liam's knife isn't sharp enough for a clean cut, so he saws through the fabric, fighting for each inch. Fire licks at my skin where the knife cuts into my flesh, and my tears finally start to fall as, inch by inch, Liam tears away my defenses.

I count each and every tear, as instructed, committing the number to memory.

Once Liam reaches the skirt, he steps back to admire his work. Without the bodice holding me in, my breasts spill free, barely contained by the scraps of fabric left. My skin stings where the knife made contact, each shallow breath I take burning in my lungs.

Liam runs his palm down my naked flesh, from my sternum to my abdomen, across the fresh lacerations. My entire body flinches hard as I try to move away from the source of my pain. He notices and clicks his tongue. "Come now, zhena , it's your fault you're injured, not mine."

What?

Blood roars in my ears loud enough that it drowns out Mikhail's own outburst of rage. "I'm not the one holding the knife," I hiss, glaring up at Liam. Every nick on my body stings, but the cuts aren't deep. They're merely surface wounds, thank God , but that doesn't make any of this better. It sure as hell doesn't make it my fault, either.

Liam's eyes meet mine, his smile feral. "Would you like to be?" He holds the knife out in front of my face. The tiniest bit of red coats its sharp edge. My blood. Or his. My stomach cramps at the thought of our blood mixing because of his sick obsession.

I'm not sure if this is a trick question. If I say yes, will he actually untie me and hand me the knife? Hesitation makes me sweat as I mull over my options. If I say no, will he continue cutting until there's nothing left to keep him from touching me? But if I say yes, will he find another cruel way to punish me?

My lungs burn as I take a deep breath. This feels like being eighteen all over again and staring down two opposite paths: stay with the family who took my mother from me, or run as far away as my heels can carry me. But that kind of thinking is too narrow; there are more options in front of me than I realize. If I had understood back then that if option A and option B didn't work for me, I could have created an option C, maybe I could have stayed and demanded more for myself.

Maybe, I could have avoided meeting Liam in the first place.

I stare at the knife in his hands and ignore the panic fluttering inside my ribcage. I don't have to play Liam's games. I can choose another outcome.

"You're a fucking coward, you know that?"

Liam's wicked expression freezes before my eyes.

I glare up at his crooked nose. I'm glad Ezra beat the shit out of him, after all. He deserves an ugly face to match his rotten heart. "What is it my grandmother said?" I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. "That you had five years to secure me? And you failed, didn't you?"

"I didn't fail." Liam's words come out stilted. "I have you, Valentina. You're mine."

I shrug one shoulder as best I can beneath my bindings. "You may have my body tied to this chair, but there's no other part of me you'll ever own. Not my name, not my heart, nothing . You'll die sooner than you think, and no one will remember you, not even me. So I think, by those standards, you have failed, Liam."

The silence is broken by Mikhail's laughter. "Oh, I'll remember him. His beating heart in my hands will be a sweet memory to keep me warm on cold winter nights."

My gaze shifts from Liam over to my boyfriend's picture on the screen. "That'll be me warming your bed, love, not memories of this fucking coward."

Liam's expression darkens, his frozen smile cracking at the edges. "Don't test me, Valentina. You won't like what happens."

Anger sizzles beneath my skin at the threat. What more could the bastard do to me than humiliate me like this? "What, are you gonna take a picture of me and jerk off to it in the corner?"

I don't see the slap coming. I should . He's hit me before. But being tied up and pissed off while your boyfriends watch on screen can really make a woman overlook those important details.

My head whips to the side with a loud crack , dark spots dancing in my vision. A shout from the speaker fills the room, drowning out the thundering of my heart.

Liam's breathing has gone ragged. He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back up, leering down at me. "Watch your mouth, zhena. I'd hate for your pretty face to match mine tonight." A few seconds pass, and he takes a breath, visibly composing himself. A flicker of remorse crosses his face as he examines the mark he's made on my cheek, gingerly pressing the pads of his fingers to my hot, swollen flesh. "You shouldn't be cruel, Valentina, or I'll lose my temper. I want to be a good husband to you. Try not to make it a difficult job."

I ignore his attention and refocus on the screen. I will Mikhail to hurry up and find me. And Ezra. Where is he?

Mikhail must sense my question because he shakes his head and mouths no.

I guess I'm not meant to bring attention to the fact that one of my boyfriends has dipped from the video feed. Hopefully, he's tracking my location the longer we're online.

Liam sighs and releases my hair. "Katya will be cross that you're marked. But, we're supposed to be on our honeymoon. No one needs to see you for a week, at least. Not even Katya." He lowers his lips to my swollen cheek and presses a gentle kiss there. "I suggest you behave, or our honeymoon will be a painful memory for you."

Ice trails down my spine, dousing any fire left within me. I can handle a little smack here or there. The knife . . . is concerning, I'll admit, but he shouldn't get carve-happy. I need to keep a pretty face or the Bratva will revolt against our so-called marriage.

Liam's fingers play with the ragged edges of my bodice. "Unless you enjoy a little pain with your pleasure, zhena. I'll admit, it's not something we've tried before . . . but I'll do anything to please you." His lips ghost over the shell of my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. His voice rasps in my ear, low and menacing. "Did you let them fuck you, Valentina? Have you been a naughty girl while I've been gone?"

My heart beats wildly in my chest. No. That's where I draw the line. Right there. I can handle a little physical violence. I can stomach being called a whore or a bitch or whatever else Liam can come up with.

I won't tolerate anything in the realm of sex .

"This isn't a real marriage." I pull at the rope binding my wrists, gritting my teeth against the pain. If I could just get a hold of the knife— "This is not a honeymoon. We are not sharing any sort of—" I bite my tongue, forcing myself to stop. The words marriage bed and wedding night cut deep. I had plans for tonight that didn't involve my ex-boyfriend forcing himself on me.

That might be the one thing that truly breaks me.

To my horror, a familiar slickness pools between my thighs, Andrei's voice echoing in my head. I know fear gets you off. My stomach cramps, and I clench my eyes shut. This is not happening. This is not fucking happening.

My lip trembles and hot tears pool in my eyes. I don't want to be a victim. I want to be a badass.

I want to be a queen.

Queens don't cry. Not once did I ever see my mother or grandmother cry about anything. It's my first unofficial day on the job, and I'm already failing at it.

" Malyshka. Look at me."

If Liam heard a word I said, he ignores it, grabbing my bodice and tearing the rest open to bare my chest to him. Once it's out of the way, he grabs a handful of my skirt and tugs, ripping what he can and cutting the rest.

"Valentina. Look at me. "

I force my eyes open, but I can't see Mikhail through my tears. I blink rapidly until they clear and I can see my boyfriend's face. His jaw is tight, the anger in his eyes burning hot. "Count your tears," he reminds me, "and we'll make him suffer for every single one. Won't we, Ezra?"

A grunt through the speaker lets me know Ezra is still there. My heart seizes painfully. I suddenly wish they were anywhere else. I draw a breath, but I don't know what to say. I can't ask them to leave. I don't want them to stay, but I don't want to be alone with Liam, either.

Once my skirt is torn away, all that's left are my lacy white panties—the ones I'd saved especially for tonight. I clench my thighs together, but it's no use. Liam shoves them apart, cool air greeting the apex of my thighs and making me shiver.

I wait for something to happen.

I pray I'm about to pass out.

A snarl fills the air as Liam backs away from me, looking angrier than I've ever seen. He tosses the knife to the floor and runs both hands through his hair. "You're fucking bleeding , Valentina. For fuck's sake."

The cuts on my chest sting. Of course I'm bleeding. He fucking cut me.

But then I feel it—a deep cramp in my gut, an unmistakable scent in the air, a wetness down there that can only mean?—

"I'm on my period." I gasp in a breath as relief floods my system, fresh tears springing to my eyes. I'm not turned on. I'm on my period.

Liam looks offended , like I'd planned for this. In all our years together, he never initiated sex while I was on my period, and I never asked. It seems like that's his limit.

I'm eternally grateful for it.

He presses the pads of his thumbs to the back of his eyelids and sighs. "You know, I was really looking forward to tonight. You just had to go and ruin it."

I can't control when I'm on my period, but if I could, I'd bleed for the rest of my life if it meant Liam would never touch me.

"But—" His eyes snap open. "This does mean I'll be the one putting a baby inside you, after all." He licks his lips and the corners of his mouth lift. "No more condoms for us, Valentina. After all, we're married now." He shakes his head with a small laugh. "I indulged you with them in the past, but there's no reason for it now. As soon as you're done bleeding—" his face twists with disgust "—I'm filling that womb of yours with my seed. Then we'll see who your body belongs to once you're bearing my child." He crosses to the tablet and sneers at the screen. "Say goodbye, boys. Show's over. I'm going to enjoy filling up my wife with my cum very soon. But you won't be around to see it." He sighs. "A shame, honestly. I'd love for you to hear her scream my name as I knock her up."

"You won't touch her," Mikhail growls. "I'm going to kill you before you get the chance."

Liam glances at me over his shoulder. "How long's your period last, baby? Five days?"

"Seven." I practically scream the word. "Seven days. Not five. I'm a heavy bleeder." I can't believe we're talking about this. But if it keeps Liam off of me for longer, I'll gladly tell him it lasts a whole damn month. "Sometimes it lasts two weeks."

Best not push my luck too much.

"Seven days," Liam repeats, a smile lighting up his face. "Think you can find us in seven days, boys?" He laughs like he's telling the funniest joke in the world, clearly underestimating who he's up against.

My men haven't clawed their way to the top of the Bratva on an old lady's name and connections. They did it themselves.

Mikhail's eyes brighten, and he licks his lips as the gambler in him comes out. "Let's make a bet, Liam. We find you and Valentina within seven days, and as long as you haven't touched a single hair on her head, we take Valentina and let you go."

Liam crosses his arms. "You won't win. It's impossible for you to find us?—"

"If you win, we'll let Valentina go, and we won't come after you anymore."

All the air in my lungs whooshes out at once.

What is he saying?

I wait for Ezra to counter, but the man stays silent, either too busy with whatever the fuck he's doing in the background, or too shocked— like me —to say anything.

Liam takes a moment to mull over the endless possibilities in front of him. A wager. The stakes being, oh, not much except my life handed to the winner on a silver fucking platter .

Liam's smile seems genuine. "If you don't find us within seven days, you have to watch as I fuck Valentina. You don't get to stop me, and you let me walk away with her once we're done. You won't come after me or her, ever again." Liam's actually interested.

What the fuck.

Mikhail grins, his eyes sharp as he nods. "You've got a deal. Seven days. Starting tomorrow."

"Today."

" Tomorrow. In case you've forgotten, you wrecked a fucking wedding. Wrapping that up took most of our day." Mikhail scowls. "It starts tomorrow, or the deal is off, and we find you and gut you alive. Your choice."

I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe Mikhail is betting my fucking life in a pissing match. I'm going to strangle him when I see him.

Liam grumbles, but nods. "The countdown begins at midnight tonight." He glances over at me, his eyes hooded with desire. A rigid tent in his pants makes me gasp. "Better hurry, or I might change my mind. She's begging to get fucked when she's tied up like that."

While Liam's distracted, Mikhail meets my eyes, looking more confident than ever. He winks, and my desire to strangle him turns into a need .

I'm going to murder the fucking maniac.

The video feed cuts out, and my image in the camera expands to fill the screen. I stare at the naked woman with pity and fury and grief swirling within my heart.

Pity for her fucked-up situation.

Fury towards the men that put her here.

Grief for innocence lost.

Life within the Bratva put me here. It groomed me for a throne without teaching me the shadows that throne sits upon, hiding the blood and bone from view.

I was never meant to look down and see it.

But as I sit naked in a concrete prison, an obsessed psychopath keeping me captive, all I can see is the ruin around me. I'm within the shadows now, the part I was never meant to see, the throne high over my head and out of reach.

If my men clawed their way out of the shadows to claim the throne, it's about time I learned to do the same.