When she was gone, I wolfed down the food, took a shower, and worked up the courage to survive this godforsaken hell with my sense of self intact.
4
Darren
I got three quiet days.
Three blessed, quiet days.
We compromised on the bracelet. She wanted to melt it in the fireplace. I wanted to embed it beneath her skin.
So the rule became she had to wear it whenever she left the house.
Neither of us was happy with the situation. She felt like the guards were enough. I felt like she should be a little less pushy for a girl that’d been kidnapped.
After that first argument, Winter went silent. She took long walks around the grounds (with the damn bracelet on), sat out by the pool (bracelet), and wandered the halls (sans bracelet). It was the calm before the storm, I knew, but there were no more interruptions.
As pleasant as that initial outburst had been.
There was something wildly erotic about the way she’d glared at me defiantly while I pulled her hair, and something incredibly arousing about the stiff nipple I’d felt when I teased my hand across her chest.
She’d liked the intense, rough play. That only made my heart thud faster than normal.
I couldn’t go down that road, though. As much as Winter tempted me, I had a reason for taking her.
I had plans, and they didn’t involve her beyond pressuring Roman into doing what I wanted.
“You shouldn’t be so mean to Winter.” Penny lounged near the fireplace in my office. Every damn room in this house had a fireplace. I kept mine crackling because my sisters wanted to stay far, far away from the extra heat.
Apparently, that didn’t matter today. Erin lingered in the corner, scowling at her phone and glaring up at me.
“I don’t know why you care. She’s only temporary.” I didn’t look up to meet Penny’s judgmental gaze. I knew what she thought of all this, and I didn’t need to hear it again.
But I would, of course.
“I know your position in this family comes with a lot of unpleasant tasks, but do you really need to kidnap innocent girls? Surely there’s some other way for a big, bad Oligarch to get what he wants.”
She was baiting me. I knew it; she knew it. Hell, even Erin knew it, and she could be oblivious to anything beyond her own nose sometimes.
I still couldn’t help myself.
“Winter is expedient. I could take the hard road and kill a few dozen more of Roman’s men, but that seems like a waste of life and resources.”
“And not to mention an escalation in this little war,” Erin added.
“Is everything really guns and guts with you?” Penny scrunched up her nose. “There have to be other ways to hurt him. Financial, political, whatever. I don’t know.”
My sisters were my life. It was a strange thought, but a true one. I kept them far away from my work, or as far as I could manage, considering we all lived in the same house. They were everything to me, especially after what had happened to Liv, and I’d do anything to protect them.
I’d die for them, if it came to that.
And one day, it might.
But for now, I tried to save them from the worst of my business. They weren’t stupid and certainly weren’t naïve, but Penny still retained some measure of childish innocence, while Erin refused to let herself care about much of anything. That gave me some space to maneuver without them hanging over my shoulder—and it helped that my mother agreed that we should ensure the girls were given as normal a life as possible.
If you could call this place normal.
“Believe me, Pen, if there was a better way, I’d take it. Winter’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
“Then let her go,” Erin drawled, rolling her eyes.
“I didn’t know you cared,” I said, glaring at her.
She didn’t look up, too absorbed in Instagram or TikTok or whatever. She was only two years younger than me, but sometimes it felt like she’d never grow up. Her deep red hair was down around her shoulders, grown long over the past couple of years and stylish and wavy. We all shared the same bright green eyes, though Erin’s facial structure took after our father, while Penny and I looked more like our mother.
“I don’t. I’m just tired of hearing you two argue.”
“You could always leave my office.” I clicked my pen over and over as emphasis.
“I like Winter,” Penny repeated. “I want you to promise that you’re not going to hurt her.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I already told you, she’s not useful to me dead.”
“Dead and hurt are different things.”
“I can’t make that promise then.”
She smacked the arm of her chair. “You can be a dick sometimes, you know that?”
“And you’re not as nice as you pretend.”
Erin whistled. “Low blow, brother dearest.”