Damned: Chapter 2) The Patient Wolf

“Patience is a virtue, Kathy.” Rebecca teased while turning the pasta for breakfast.

Who even makes pasta for breakfast anyway?

“When I cook, I finish three times faster than you.”

“That’s because you ‘cook’ cereal.” she retorted.

“Well then, you don’t have to be so rude about it. I happen to like cereal. Say, Becca,” I began, feeling very bored, “If you were involved in any illegal activities, what kind of criminal would you be?”

“Is this a question I should be worried about, Kat?”

“No, I’m just curious.”

“I don’t know. What would you be?”

“I’d be a Cereal killer.”

“Oh God.” she sighed placing the plates filled with pasta on the table and sat down, “Eat, you’re nuts when you’re hungry.”

“Thanks.” I smiled digging in.

Having a friend like Rebecca was nice, at least she never judged me too harshly.

“So what are you going to do when I’m gone?” she suddenly asked, reminding me that she was going to spend some time with her sisters in Canada for a while.

“I might visit Aunt Jean when I’m bored,” I replied, still very cautious not to mention anything about my brother being alive to her. I knew if she found out about it then she would drop her trip to Canada and do everything possible to help me find Anthony. It’s not that I didn’t want the help, it’s just that I couldn’t ask so much from Rebecca again. Plus, her sisters would be mad no shit at me if they found out that I was the reason she didn’t visit. I honestly didn’t know why, but they never really liked me that much. Maybe it’s because our families were business rivals and they saw it fit to dislike everyone in the opposing family? That was downright crap if you ask me. I mean, just look at Becca and I, we’re like two peas in a pond- or is it pod? Anyway, long story short, I considered her to be like my own blood- a sister.

“What about the job interviews?” she asked, bringing me back to attention.

“Yes, I know,” I stated softly. Honestly, I hated the fact that I was still living off my dad’s money. He pampered me too much and that was the main reason I moved out of the house and settled down in Detroit- hoping to find a job after college. Yet, no matter how far I moved, he always had me financially covered. That really annoyed me because he never gave me the chance to prove to him that I am independent. To be honest, I don’t think I am that independent and I’m not going to deny it.

“And that’s it?” Rebecca laughed, “Aunt Jean and job interviews? Don’t stress your little head too much, Kathy. You just finished college, relax a little.”

Relax? How can I relax when I just discovered that my dead brother is somehow alive? I had to find him.

With that thought, I was reminded of the man I met last night. I’d be expecting you tomorrow. His words drifted through my mind and shivered throughout every inch of my body in the most sensational manner possible. Tall, dark, and handsome was an insult to how delicious he actually was.

What? No. Focus. 

I embarrassedly pushed the thought out of my head. I’d never thought the dirty stuff, I’d never even been in a serious relationship, nor did I lust over any man. I mean, actors and fictional men were an exception since I can’t physically get to them or them to me- unfortunately. I’m ‘innocent’ and I’m proud of it. I guess. 

After breakfast, Rebecca quickly packed her stuff and left. Right after she left, I decided to visit my aunt Jean and from there I would head to the place ‘where I was expected’ by Mr-Oh-So Beautiful.

No, Kathy! You seriously need to focus! 

This battle against his appeal was tormenting, and I only met the man for less than the amount of time you take to boil an egg.

Okay, bad example.

Focus.

Heading to my closet, I picked out a little blue polka dot dress that Aunt Jean had bought for me. It was beyond adorable in my opinion, and the shirt sleeves gave it a splendid little look. Gabbing a pair of nude heels, I quickly brushed my hair and wore a bit of red lipstick. Not like I was dressing up for anyone or anything. Nope. Certainly not.

“There.” I exhaled looking at myself in the mirror. For some odd reason, my green eyes seemed to sparkle a bit more with excitement and I found my heartbeat hammering faster than usual. Trying my best to ease myself back to normal, I headed to my aunt’s house. Although, I didn’t use the car this time because I was just too lazy to drive there.

It didn’t take that long until I arrived at her house. She was a woman who took gardening to the extreme, judging by the beauty of her flower garden and freshly trimmed trees.

With a knock on the door, it was opened within a split second.

“Katherine!” she smiled.

With her brown hair messily pulled into a bun and a casual dress on, she ushered me inside.

“You haven’t visited in like two weeks missy!” she began with the scolding as she sliced a piece of her home-cooked pie and brought it for me.

“I know, I’m sorry, I was busy with some…stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just…stuff you know. What every 22 year old does.” I shrugged.

“Oh my God! Katherine! What did you do?”

“What?” I asked a bit startled.

What was she talking about? Oh…I see.

With a sigh, I grinned wickedly, “I robbed a bank.”

Aunt Jean blinked a couple of times and finally caught on with a laugh, “You never change.”

“How’s uncle Tomo?”

“He’s alright- at work.” she smiled and brushed her eyes over me, “My, you look pretty. Is there a special occasion today?”

“What?” I panicked and got up from the sofa, “Is it too much? Oh God, did I overdress?”

“Well, you certainly didn’t underdress, calm down. Why are you so hyper?”

“Aunt Jean! Don’t joke with me. I don’t want him to-”

I stopped abruptly.

Oh shit.

“Him?” she arched an eyebrow mischievously.

“Sim. I said Sim as in…Sim-ren? She’s a friend.” I swallowed.

“Oh?” she smirked.

“Yes.” I playfully mirrored her expression. All hell would break loose if she finds out Anthony is alive. She’d tell daddy and if he finds out I don’t know what would happen. Remembering the tense- not so well- relationship the father and son had with each other, my dad would actually kill my brother for putting my family through all that drama and agony. My stepmom wasn’t even able to come to terms with his death. Even though she wasn’t mine nor my brother’s blood, she treated us as if we were. She filled in the motherly shoes after my real mother died when I was twelve.

“Well well well. My little girl’s growing up.” she smiled.

Thankfully, she dropped the whole topic but I did know she was itching to find out. That’s the thing I loved about my Aunt. She respected my privacy and meant well for me. And then there are days when she would dig into your skull for the information. Thank God today wasn’t a day like that.

It’d been an hour since I arrived and I thought that maybe it’s time to meet Mr. Stranger again. God, I hope he got my bag. Oh, I really hope he did. He was my only hope- that phone was. On that note, I realized that I hadn’t even gotten his name. Who the hell would I ask for when I arrived there?

Don’t panic. Just hope he opens the door. Hope. 

“Aunt Jean. I think I better go now.” I stated looking at my watch.

“For your date?”

“It’s not a date.” I laughed.

“Alright honey. Visit again soon.” she smiled and walked me out the door.

After leaving her house, I took a cab and gave the driver the address. I was beyond tired and nervous for god knows what. I should just keep optimistic. He will get my bag back. He said he would. The vehicle stopped at the front of a monster-sized house. It was bigger than any I had ever seen honestly. Well, now I was certain he did not live in that old sleazy apartment with the kinky creeps. I felt myself sway a bit as I came out of the car. There was a long pathway that led straight to the massive door of the house- mansion to be describing. The area around was quite secluded, there weren’t any neighbours around the house. It made me feel a bit uneasy now.

How the heck was I going to get a taxi back home?

Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the house, keeping that card the stranger gave me in hand. The wind was icy and taunting, and every step I took forward seemed to kick up my heartbeat per second. It felt as if time was slowing down as I got closer. Inches away from the door, I rang the doorbell and waited.

It wasn’t long until I heard the sound of the heavy door buckle open. I prayed for it to be the stranger but it wasn’t. Behind the door stood a tall slender woman with deep curves that clung to her form-fitting long red dress. With hair as black as pitch that tumbled down her shoulders into perfect Victoria Secret curls, she arched an eyebrow at me. A curious look plagued her Goddess-like face and was soon followed by a frown.

“Do I know you?” she asked and a thick Russian accent escaped to none of her control.

“No. Actually, I um- someone- a man had asked me to meet here.”

Taking a few seconds, she deepened that frown on her, “I assure you, you must have come to the wrong place. We don’t buy cookies, Sweetheart.”

“Natalia!” A velvety voice scolded from behind dripping with that raspy accent.

The stranger from last night descended from the staircase and approached us. He was clad in a crisp white shirt that was rolled up until his elbows and a dark grey striped tie that hung around his neck. He didn’t wear jeans today though, instead, he wore a black elegant dress pants. With his attire suited to perfection, and his hair neatly styled but held that messy flair, he walked towards us. Every step he took closer caused a strange ache that kissed me in the most perplexing manner straight to the core. I honestly felt weak.

He stood with an appropriate distance between us and inhaled sharply. I could still smell the rich spicy perfume that licked off him. His eyes feathered over me with a flicker.

“Krasivaya,” he muttered in a low, dangerous voice that laced with his accent. God, that sent a delicious shiver up my spine.

“Vit, she doesn’t look like your taste in toys.” the woman who opened the door said with immense disdain towards me.

How badly I wished I could respond to that. If only my throat wasn’t this dry and my heart wasn’t constricting so much.

“Enough, Natalie.” he scowled, “She’s here under my pretext. We have some business to catch up on. Isn’t that right, Miss Donovan?”

His voice was rich and smooth as he questioned. The woman who I presumed to be Natalia shot her eyes back at me almost in a shocked manner but quickly brushed it away.

“Yes.” I smiled sweetly finally gaining control of my voice and ignored the discomforting look I got from the woman. Within that moment, she turned away and left without another word.

“Please Miss Katherine,” he extended an arm. Taking it nervously, he clasped my petite hand in his long elegant yet slightly rough one as he ushered me in. His touch was foreign and I was worried as to my craving reaction to it.

Focus!

The inside of the house was as elegant and porch as the outside. It seriously was a modern-day castle. From a distance, I noted a few men sitting around a table- around eight perhaps. They weren’t as elegantly dressed as my mysterious stranger though. For the matter, they looked a bit more rough and stern. Some were young while the rest seemed old- like middle-aged to be precise. I bit my bottom lip nervously when I got some stares from them. Trying to ignore it, I turned slightly towards the man who held my hand.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t yet get your name.”

His curious gaze fell upon me and he slightly smiled, bringing the back of my hand near his lips.

“Vitaly Alecovich Rostov.” And with that, he gently placed a kiss on it.

Holy freakin’ hell.

Did he kiss my hand? Like a gentleman from one of those classic historical novels would? Did Mr. Darcy somehow find a time machine?

“Pardon my family.” he said as he glanced at the men at the table, “They’re a little busy with some business right now. I would introduce you to them later.”

“Oh, that’s no problem at all.” I smiled, “This house is lovely by the way.”

“Yes, I suppose. Why don’t I show you around?”

“No-no you don’t have to. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Miss Katherine.” he insisted, “At least have a drink while I get your bag?”

“You got my bag?” I beamed so joyfully, it slightly startled him.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice cool and silky.

Walking towards the back of the house, I was led into a large green garden and a cute little sitting area that was styled with a large well-designed umbrella. He sat across from me after instructing a lady to bring some refreshments. She looked like she worked here.

“Would you like anything else?” he asked.

“No. I’m fine, really.” I nervously replied.

“I see.”

Within that moment, the woman approached us again and placed the drinks on the table.

“Spasibo.” He nonchalantly said with a half glance towards her and brought the drink to his slightly curved lips.

I was unsure of how to respond or say anything about the matter to him. Still, I had to try, for my brother.

“My…bag.” I hesitantly stated, trying my best not to sound rude in any way.

He suddenly gave a low throaty chuckle, “Of course. I’m probably torturing you with this wait.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” I softly protested.

Quickly, I finished the drink and he got up with a smile, “It’s inside.”

“What?”

“The bag.”

“Oh,” I inhaled mirroring his action, “How did you get my bag from the thief anyway?”

He smiled at that question, “What’s more important is that I got it back.”

“You’re- right.” I shrugged at the thought, yet it never left my mind as to how he did it.

His house was quite a delight to walk through, with its delicate yet rich ambiance. Opening a door to what seemed to be a large, cold, modern room, he continued allowing me to enter. The interior was a rich dark brown and white. The bed was draped with the finest plush white covers and I don’t know why but I kept thinking of a black coffee kind of theme that played around in here.

“Tell me about yourself, Miss Katherine.”

“About me? There’s not much to know about me.” I quietly laughed, knowing how untrue that was.

“I beg to differ,” he smirked while taking up my bag from a shelf. He outstretched his arm with it towards me.

It felt like I had hope again.

“Thank you.” I breathed reaching for it, “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

His hand lightly brushed against mine. It felt strange and… nice.

“You shouldn’t thank me,” he stated holding my gaze with his, “It was not a problem at all.”

 I was about to pull away when I realized he hadn’t removed his hand from beneath mine.

“Miss Donovan,” his voice was raw and raspy yet there was a silent plea in it, “Why don’t you stay a little longer?”

I felt almost breathless. What was happening? He suddenly, yet gently, slipped his free hand at my waist pulling me closer to him. Dangerously close. His sea-blue eyes consumed me into an ocean of deep need. My breaths were uneven.

“I-”

I couldn’t speak. I was never so near to a man in my entire life.

“I-” paused and blinked.

He was waiting for me to speak, patiently, and I was probably choking on my own spit. That’s when the question hit me.

How?

How could a man be this perfect?

This wasn’t possible and logic was overtaking my desires. This was too surreal to be possible. A man like him would only want one thing from a girl like me. He wasn’t a possibility. It was too good to be true.

“I- have to pee.” nervously swallowed.

He seemed surprised but slowly distanced himself, “In that room.”

I quickly motioned for the bathroom where he pointed out. Shutting the door, I tried to calm myself. I was being too overdramatic, I mean there are a lot of things he may have asked me to stay a little longer for. Maybe he wanted help cleaning his room or maybe baking some cookies? That could be some possibilities.

Yet, there were two things wrong with that. One, if that was his room, it was spotless. And two, what kind of cookies would a man like that eat? 

I opened my bag to get my inhaler when I realized something odd.

The phone wasn’t there.

Panic struck me like a quick lightning bolt. I searched frantically in the bag and even emptied the contents on the vanity.

Nothing. No phone.

I was about to turn when I accidentally hit my elbow on the edge of an opened drawer. As I was about to shut it close, something inside of it caught my attention.

My body froze in utter fear staring at what was inside. I couldn’t believe it. With a shaking hand, I stared at the ice-cold gun.

Where was I? Oh God, I had to get out.  

That man looked at no point in time an officer of any sort.

Quickly, throwing the contents of my stuff in the emptied bag,  I stuck the gun in my pants beneath my dress. I wasn’t an idiot to leave it back there for him to possibly shoot me with. And at the moment, I had no idea what to do about the phone problem. I needed that phone. Oh dear God, I needed help. However, a dead me wasn’t going to find my brother.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped into the room. It was empty, he wasn’t there. Thank God, now I could get the hell out of here. As I was about to walk out, I saw a familiar object on a shelf. Stopping in my track, I walked towards it feeling my heart tightening every step I took forward.

The cell phone.

I was about to take it up but the sound of someone clearing his throat stopped me. Fear ate me that moment.

“Oh, you’re here.” my ‘so-called hero’ stated.

I turned around, blanketing my nervousness and caution towards him. He took a step towards me and I felt myself shift back. I was scared and I couldn’t deny that. Somehow, I knew he already knew. His eyes seemed endlessly darker.

“S-stay away from me,” I warned.

“So you’re not such a dumbass after all.” he chuckled in such a menacing manner ensnared with a disturbing amount of charm.

“I-I’m warning you!” I edged taking my shoe off as if it was such a lethal weapon at the moment while completely forgetting that I had an actual weapon on me.

He suddenly burst into a fit of laughter showing his canine white teeth that seemed to highlight how sculpted his jawline actually was. The laugh was raspy and sickly beautiful dashed with a pinch of devilish. Rubbing his chin, his laughter died a bit and he stared at me. I knew I should have been dead afraid right now but for some reason, I felt crushed. I didn’t like the fact that he toyed with my feelings like that.

“Oh, my poor baby.” he smirked wickedly, “Did I hurt you?”

He asked with such a tease, it was almost ruthless.

Taking another step back, my back hit against the wall and I dropped the bag and shoe in hand. He stooped to the ground where the bag was, but instead of going for the bag, he shockingly brushed his fingers on my leg. It sent the most electrifying tingling throughout my body. I wanted to kick him away but I couldn’t. I was frozen, unsure of how to respond physically nor mentally to this. His lips suddenly grazed against the warm part of my calf while he muttered something so softly in Russian with a kiss. And it wasn’t helping that his facial hair rubbed pleasurably against my untouched skin. His hands slowly worked up my leg tauntingly as it found its way to my hip. Keeping a hand there, he rose towering above me as I tightened my eyes.

“Look at me, zaychik.”

I didn’t.

“Look at me,” he stated again in a more rough tone of voice.

Forcefully, I opened my eyes to stare up at the man whose lips were stapled in a thin straight line and a facial expression as hard yet beautiful as a diamond.

I didn’t know where I got the strength from, but I found my soft aching voice somehow, “What do you what?”

Almost as if he was awaiting that question, the edge of his lips formed a wicked curve, “The same thing you want, Angel.”

“W-what?” I asked in a sore voice.

I suddenly felt a cold metal at the side of my neck. He pressed the gun hard against my skin and whispered in that sick beautiful voice, “How about we make a deal?”

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