“Where are you from?”
“Why don’t you ask your men who picked me up?”
“I didn’t ask where we got you, I asked where you are from.”
“And what if I told you I’m a man with no history, no name?”
She pauses for a second, assessing me. “Then I’d call bullshit. Everyone has a history.”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, watching me levelly.
“You’d really rather go through this than give me your name?”
I don’t say anything. I don’t like repeating myself. After a moment, she turns to the blond boy and whispers something. He frowns at whatever she says, clearly not liking it. She gives him a pointed look, and his jaw tightens before he nods and walks off.
“Your bitch didn’t like whatever you told him,” I state loudly, hoping he hears it. Her lips tighten and turn up a touch as though amused, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she brings up a hand to look at her nails.
They look sharp, a brilliant, blood red color, and I can’t help but imagine her digging those claws into my back while I fuck the sass right out of her. I smirk as my dick twitches, obvious through the thin pants I’m wearing. Savage cunt or not, I’ll admit she’s fucking fine.
Pale skin normally doesn’t do it for me, but on her with that glowing hair and fierce expression, it’s stunning. The awful business clothes, the suited jackets and skirts, don’t fit her, though. She’d be better suited as a fucking Viking goddess. Certainly doesn’t look like any Russian girl I’ve ever known with that skin and hair, but I’m confident in her background. The youngest child and only daughter of Vasily Pushkin.
“You going to play with me now?” I mock, and she looks at me. This time, the amusement is clear on her face. Most women look at me with revulsion, but she hasn’t flinched once. With the burns, scars and scowls, even whores took some convincing.
She takes a step forward until she’s only a foot away. If I didn’t already know the chains would stop me, I’d think she’s close enough I could reach out and grab her neck. A feminine smell fills my nostrils along with the hint of some kind of liquor on her breath. Interesting.
“Oh, sweetheart, we’re definitely going to play,” she coos with a smile, leaning closer to my ear. “And you are definitely going to be telling me who you are. But I better give someone else a turn first. Wouldn’t be fair for me to have all the fun.”
A low, rumbling laugh builds in my chest, and I turn my head so our faces are only inches apart.
“I can’t wait,milaya.”
Her eyes widen, and I grin. She knows I know who she is.
Just then, the blond walks in with a few other men behind him. She pulls back, her startled expression disappearing before she turns to them.
“I changed my mind,” she tells them. “Take him to my office. You know the spot?”
The blond’s frown deepens, and something passes between them. There’s something there … the combination of respect and animosity between them. Something I am sure I can exploit if need be. I’ll need to find out more.
He shoots a glare at me before nodding to her. She steps back to allow them to come around me. My eyes narrow, and I let a vicious rumble grow in my chest as I stare at each of them, saving their faces to my memory.
I turn my head to try to watch the blond as he walks behind me. This time, the blackness following the prick is almost instant, and I can’t help but wonder what they changed this time to make it work so fast.
* * *
When I wake up again,it’s obvious I’m still restrained, but I’m surprised to see I’m in a much bigger, less dungeon-like room. The stone walls of the entire place have a gothic feel, but it’s clear this is some kind of office. I almost chuckle at the fact there are chain links on the floor in someone’s office, but somehow it suits the old fortress-style building.
My eyes are grateful for the dimmer light, and even though it was because of drugs, I feel better after the rest. My body aches, but that’s not even close to the forefront of my mind. The chains wrapped around me, however….
“Good nap?” A feminine voice asks, and I have to strain my neck to try to see where her voice is coming from.
“Fantastic,” I manage, letting my head drop rather than try to strain it needlessly. I move enough to know how much slack I have now … a touch more than the cell I was in before.
“Your reputation didn’t lead me to believe that your interrogations would include a room upgrade,” I mock her, eager to get on with it. So far, everything is going mostly as planned. I hadn’t expected to be this close to her so soon, but ahead of schedule is not a bad thing. Even still, unexpected is unexpected. And I’m not fool enough to believe I have all the time in the world. If the job isn’t done in a reasonable time, someone else will be hired to do it.
And I, Sin, do not accept failure.