A Billion Vendettas
By: Jessa York
(The Rosetti Crime Family Book 8)
1
Eve
* * *
“Are you afraid of me? Is that why I’m tied up?” I snapped at my smug-faced kidnapper.
No matter how much I struggled against the constricting rope that held my wrists together, nothing gave.
“Ha, not even close.” His eyes dropped to my cleavage, then back to my face. “Having your hands tied behind your back forces your breasts out in the most appealing manner.”
My stomach roiled at his statement.
And at his constant leering.
“You’re a pig,” I said as I gave him my very best death glare. My wrists were hurting, and the steady ache in my shoulders was getting unbearable.
“Ah, princesa, you’ll learn that sleeping with pigs can be fun,” he cackled out in his deep voice.
I found the way he grinned that familiar half-smirk to be oddly comforting—but also frightening as heck.
He and his brother shared that same smile.
Where Nick’s was loving—Maxim’s was sinister.
I was no stranger to men using the threat of sexual harm.
The men at Ilona’s were well-screened.
Most of the time.
They tended to mind their manners, and appreciate the business deal we’d entered into.
Until they didn’t.
Every so often, a bad apple emerged, and there was crap all you could do about it.
A guy could seem nice, and kind—until he wasn’t.
Sometimes, it surprised me.
Other times, I could see it in their eyes.
“I’ve slept with worse,” I sniped at him, not wanting to play the victim. Men who wanted to hurt you usually enjoyed the hunt.
They got off on seeing you frightened.
Maxim Castaneda was definitely that type of man.
The sadistic kind.
The kind who loved making people suffer.
I’d only been in his presence for an hour, or so. In that short amount of time, he’d mentioned at least three times how he was going to get me pregnant.
Out of revenge for Nick getting his wife, Louise, pregnant.
Someone—obviously, Louise—had let the cat out of the bag. I bet Maxim had an actual coronary when he found out she was carrying his half-brother’s child.
Just like Nick, and I had.
He laughed again, this time longer, and louder. “Yes, I know you’re a prostituta. I can’t wait to see what kind of special skills you learned. Puta’s always know the best tricks.”
I’d wanted to kill him the second he’d raised his hand to me.
I was no match for a tall, strong man like him.
Especially not while I wore my huge wedding dress.
And not with my hands tied behind my back.
I still wanted to smack him across the face, and bust his nose in, just like he’d done to me.
“Afterward,” he said, again staring directly at my breasts, “you can tell me how I compare to all your other clients.” His eyes met mine. “But for now, we have a long journey. And I wish to sleep. Which means, lights out for you.”
He suddenly snapped his fingers to someone at the rear of the plane.
I’d been scared when Maxim had taken me.
You’d have to be a complete moron not to be.
But, I had hope that Nick’s guys had seen something, and they’d find me quickly.
When we’d been driven to the airport—my hopes had all but vanished.
A foot or road chase would be bad enough.
An air chase—nearly impossible.
From that point on, I knew my main objective had to be survival.
Lucky for me—and not so lucky for Maxim—I’d been training for this my whole life.
Ever since I was born, the theme of my life had been survival.
I was pretty good at this.
Until Nick had shown up, I’d only had myself to rely on.
So, that was what I focused on while Maxim’s private jet took off from the airport.
Survival.
Staying alive.
Staying alive until.
Until Nick found me—or until I found a way out.
More than a few people in my life were counting on me to keep breathing. And that was what I decided to do.
Whatever I had to.
A tall, skinny man waltzed down the center aisle, holding a syringe in his gawky, awkward finger.
I could feel my eyes widen.
“No, Maxim, no,” I said as I tried my best to shrink against the chair.
“Don’t worry, princesa, I told you I would not hurt you. But, I’m tired, and I need to rest. And that means you need to go to sleep, as well.”
