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When Elena’s father makes a deal with the devil, she finds herself on her knees in a dark chamber waiting to be selected as one of the maidens who will serve the Olympian Brotherhood, a shadowy branch of the Mafia. Rescue comes from an unlikely source, the sons of the Mafia dons. They take Elena into their home and claim her as their own. They will protect her from everyone, except each other.
This dark romance can be read as a standalone. It has an HFN ending.
When I wake, I’m surprised to find myself in a warm, comfortable bed. Actually, it’s a miracle I’m awake at all. Though my head is thumping and my body aches, I remember everything that happened last night with disturbing clarity. I kind of wish I didn’t.
Clenching my jaw as I entertain thoughts of how close I came to being murdered, I stare up at the light fixture on the ceiling above me.
It’s got several silver butterflies circling a central lightbulb. It’s incredibly pretty, but it isn’t mine. I don’t know where I am, but it’s not my bedroom.
I heave myself into an upright position and glance around the room. I take in cream walls, soft blue carpet and beautiful white-washed wooden furniture before my eye lands on a tall, fair-haired man sitting on an armchair in the corner by the window.
Recognizing him instantly, I snort in disbelief. Daniil Baranov is about the last person I’d have expected to see, but his pale blue eyes are staring back at me, nonetheless.
“How do you feel?” he asks, rising from his chair and walking to my side.
He’s dressed casually in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt that shows off muscles he definitely didn’t have when he was at my school.
“Like I was kidnapped by a sinister secret society, tossed about a room and then gassed in the middle of a mafia shootout.”
When I recount what I believe happened, I wonder if I might have dreamed the whole thing because that sounds bonkers.
Daniil’s lips quirk up. “That’s good.”
I shake my head and regret it because it makes my vision blur. “None of that is good.”
“I suppose not,” he agrees affably. He grabs my hand and twists my arm gently as he presses two fingers to my inner wrist, apparently taking my pulse. “But it is good you remember it all without prompting. We were afraid you banged your head.”
I think I did bang my head, but my headache is more of the sort I get when I’m dehydrated.
“Is there any water?” I ask.
Daniil nods. Then he reaches across the bed, his body brushing against mine. I don’t think he notices, but the contact makes my skin tingle.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve just woken up from an ordeal I didn’t think I’d survive and, for all I know, Daniil is about to plunge me into another.
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