Pakhan's Rose Read online

  He grew silent for several seconds and then exhaled heavily, giving me the answer I needed.

  “It was my dream, Father! Why would you do this to me?” Didn't it matter to him that I dreamed about becoming a neurosurgeon?

  “Princess, the world is full of dangerous things. New York is not safe for you.” Was he essentially saying he didn’t want me to live with him?

  I understood his pain through all the years. Years I either spent with my grandmother in Italy, or in boarding schools, where no one ever cared about me. I knew my dad loved me. It wasn't about that, and despite his profession, he was a good man with morals.

  Well, as much as he could have, being the Cosa Nostra’s don. But his ignorance of my desires, hopes, and dreams? Right in that moment, it killed me, and the pain threatened to break my already shattered heart.

  “Mom died ten years ago, Dad.” His breath hitched. “How long would you punish me for the mistake of another man?” Without waiting for his reply, I disconnected our phone call and let the tears slide down my cheeks.

  I darted outside to the small forest inside the high walls, but I couldn't admire the beauty. My eyes were blurry from the tears as sobs overtook me.

  I wanted to live freely and enjoy my life as a normal teenager, a young woman. Why was it wrong? Why were my dreams crushed because of the lifestyle my parents led? Why couldn't my dad understand all this without breaking my heart?

  Why did I have to sacrifice my life in order to make him happy? What about me?

  “Didn’t even have to sneak inside the building. The prey came out by herself.” The unfamiliar voice from behind me sounded odd. It was enough to stop my hysterics, but before I could turn to see who it was, out of nowhere, I was hit on the back of my head. The pain overwhelmed my senses as a cold cloth pressed against my mouth, and then everything went blank.

  Present

  Three months ago

  Rosa

  “Don't go too far, sweetie! ” Sapphire yelled to Kristina, who happily bounced around the big playground in the park, soaking up all the attention from the kids and “new adventures,” as she called them. To Sapphire’s and my surprise, the whole playground had a Pirates of the Caribbean theme with ships painted brown, golden hooks, ropes to swing on, and some treasures to play with. The sandbox had several makeshift sharks and stairs above to play on, so whoever fell inside would be ‘eaten’ alive. Truth be told, had I been a kid myself, I’d probably go nuts in there as well. Kristina blew Sapphire a kiss accompanied by a wink. The kid was as cocky as her dad. Although, with her black hair and sapphire eyes, she was a little angel who I couldn't help but want to hug and smother with kisses.

  The playground was full of excited kids who attacked the ship as though it was real and could take them away from here.

  I could relate, really.

  The soft New York breeze touched my heated skin and I welcomed it, enjoying my stay in this city. It had been a long time since I’d been here, and it was as beautiful as I remembered.

  Crowded streets, magnificent buildings, fashion shows, theaters, and cuisine. People who treasured creativity and intellectuality always drove forward, trying to accomplish things. It didn't mean other places in the world didn't have the same tempo and atmosphere, but no place ever felt like home, or like I belonged.

  Except New York.

  One of the reasons Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” played through my headphones as I enjoyed the delicious taste of a chocolate brownie filled with almonds. You could call me a sentimental sap.

  "Mama, look!" Kristina shouted as she climbed up on the ship, waved her hands, and jumped on the rope as a gasp left Sapphire’s mouth. She stood up, clenching her hand to her chest, and walked to where Kristina bounced up and down, clearly having a blast after scaring her mama bear shitless.

  "Baby girl, this is for older kids. Don't do it again." The kid rolled her eyes and whispered something to her mother.

  I sat near Juanita, who was knitting some shit on the bench, and I couldn't hear how Kristina justified her actions. However, it allowed me more time to study Sapphire. She was a stunning woman with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen and long, wavy, mocha hair. Add to it an hourglass figure, and it explained why Damian went nuts for her.

  Well that, and her loving him even though he was Sociopath. Not many women could claim that, I imagined.

  Sapphire shook her head and slowly walked back. Her eyes noticed me as I popped another brownie into my mouth, and asked, "Didn't you plan to finish the series?"

  During the five years she had been in witness protection, the girl became a romance writer and was the one whose books I loved to read. She was none other than S. Victoria Fray. When my eyes found the bookshelf with her latest novel in print copies, the one that was about to hit the bookstores in a couple of months, needless to say, I attacked it like a freaking crazy person. Reading was life for me, seriously. Well… that and food.

  And dancing.

  I loved to dance and couldn't wait for this nightmare to finally be over so I could enroll in some classes to learn it professionally.

  I sounded like a lazy ass, but what else could a girl do when she was on the run from the mafia, had a sociopath for a honorary brother, and couldn't live a carefree life?

  Shrugging, I answered, "I grew bored, decided to hunt you down. Nice playground." Yeah, me getting bored with the book wasn't the case. The truth was, after the whole incident that happened to me five years ago, I couldn't stay alone at the house or anywhere else. Immediately, nightmares would creep in with all the hands and voices from the past. I hated my weakness, hated not being over it. I always tried to reason with myself.

  No one knew the full truth of what happened to me. They assumed, but if only they knew. Damian would have probably killed all those people straightaway. However, I had people around me who suffered way more, and they stayed strong.

  The guilt sometimes ate me alive, not that I shared it with anyone, ever.

  "Yeah, Kristina is excited." Her loud squeals of joy caused peals of laughter from all three of us.

  Juanita, the older woman who accompanied us on this stroll in the park, used to be Damian and Dominic’s housekeeper before they were kidnapped, sold into child prostitution, and abused for years. After their parents’ death, Juanita was named guardian of the boys and all their financial assets. When Damian escaped captivity, she mourned with him the loss of his twin and helped him create a plan for revenge.

  Juanita was a petite Latina with the kindest of smiles. She had flawless, tanned skin that went well with her green eyes. Her hair, usually in a long ponytail that hung down her spine, was black, but gray strands could be seen in the bright sunlight. The woman reflected class and beauty on a level many girls tried to achieve but failed. She looked not a day older than forty, but Sapphire told me she was fifty-three. After she shared this little tidbit of information, I had no choice but to high-five Juanita, because, dude, I so freaking wanted to be as gorgeous as she was when I was as old as her.

  Sapphire’s phone vibrated in her jeans pocket. She furrowed her brows, but picked it up with a calm voice. “Hello?" A beat, and then she said, "Uncle Benjamin? How did you get my number?" she asked with confusion, although I noticed traces of fear in her eyes too.

  Who the hell was this guy? Didn't she cut all her connections once she went into WPP? Whatever he said made her paler, and she desperately scanned for Kristina, who sat in the sandbox studying the sharks. Her eyes widened as she spotted something, and then took a sharp intake of breath.

  "Why?" she questioned, another pause, and her phone fell to the ground with a thud.

  Her eyes focused on Juanita and me, as she said, "You need to go home. Now. And fast." Juanita's eyes grew with fear as she darted toward Kristina, but Sapphire stopped her with her hand. "No, she and I stay. Go."

  She what? Shaking my head, I argued, "No, Sapphire. No!"

  "She has a sniper mark on her. He will kill her. It's him." Her
reply almost brought me to my knees. Not our little angel!

  My lips trembled as my eyes watered, but even in my emotional state, I understood we were powerless against the enemies. With one last look at Juanita, Sapphire ran to Kristina, picked her up in her arms as the child wiggled in displeasure, and then she shoved her daughter’s head to her chest, covering her from the deadly aim as much as possible. "Mommy, no, I want to play,” I could hear Kristina whimper, while Sapphire patted her back. The man standing by the car wearing glasses was a muscled mountain who could probably squish me with one arm. His face held a permanent snarl. When he pushed them inside roughly, I decided not to be a coward and ran after them.

  God help us all.

  Dominic

  Rosa rushed after Sapphire, making me curse as I exited the car and stopped her with an arm around her waist right before she was seen. Although I bargained with them for her, who the fuck knew what they would have done had she tried to stop them? She struggled against my hold, as I got distracted inhaling her sweet scent and enjoying the feel of her in my arms for the first time.

  My sweet girl.

  "Let go of me, you fucking piece of shit!" she screamed, and I grimaced when her mouth proved to be less than sweet. I spun her around swiftly. Her tits pressed against me, and her eyes grew huge once she had the time to study my face. "Who are you?" She placed her hands flat on my chest and tried to push, but I wouldn't budge. "You aren't Damian.”

  "No."

  Then she blinked rapidly, and whispered, "Dominic?" And because she knew my name and the way my body reacted to her despite the danger looming over us, I pressed a hard kiss against her stunned mouth, almost moaning in pleasure at the softness of her lips. Letting go of her, I removed the cross from my neck and gave it to her. "Keep it." She frowned. "Don't follow them. It's dangerous. Connor and I will handle this problem. Leave with Juanita."

  A loud gasp from behind Rosa confirmed the old woman heard everything as her eyes drank me in. “Dominic."

  Emotions.

  She was part of my memories, but there simply was no time for this. "Go home and stay there. Now." I wasn't satisfied until she nodded, and then I jumped back in the car as Vitya sped after S's vehicle.

  Rosa

  “Dominic, it was my Dominic,” Juanita chanted, as I used all my strength to pull her back from the playground and push her in the direction of the apartment. Damian’s penthouse was a short distance away, and right then, it seemed like the safest place on earth.

  Although, when I thought about it, Sapphire’s dad kidnapped her from there, so who the hell knew if the bad guys knew about it? What if they had the address?

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she sobbed quietly, probably not even comprehending where we were. “I know, Juanita, but we need to go.” Even saying those words felt surreal, because I believed, like everyone else, that Damian’s twin was dead.

  Although he had many tattoos, a bulkier figure, and wore jeans, there was no mistaking the startling features and amber eyes they shared.

  Or the air of dominance and sophistication at the same time, which he had in common with his twin.

  Juanita leaned on the wall next to the sidewalk and refused to go. She closed her eyes, and continued to cry, “Dominic.” Although she looked spectacular for her age, she was still old enough that her heart could give up, so her condition concerned me.

  What the hell do I do?

  Contacting anyone was strictly forbidden. Plus, none of them left any numbers for me.

  There was only one option, and considering everything that had happened in the last few minutes, it seemed like the only right choice.

  Flipping open my smart phone, I dialed the number I promised to only dial when I was in danger.

  On the second beep, the phone was picked up, and with a shaking voice, I whispered, “Daddy?”

  My eyes snapped open, and immediately, a piercing headache assaulted me, and my dry mouth desperately needed water. Blinking a few times, I tried to adjust to the dark that created fear in the pit of my stomach.

  Sitting, my back was pressed against the wall and my legs were numb, so I tried to move them, but failed when I realized they were bound together, probably by a tight rope. A scream of terror begged to shoot from my throat, only for me to realize my mouth was covered in duct tape and my wrists were cuffed. The only source of light came from under the door. The room smelled of garlic. Slight noises were coming from the corner, and when something started to slowly climb on my lap, I knew what it was.

  A rat.

  Shifting as much as I could, I was trying everything to make it go away when the door suddenly snapped open and hit the wall harshly. Two men wearing black jeans, shirts, and masks stood there as one of them sipped beer from a brown bottle.

  “The bitch woke up,” he cursed, and then spat on the floor. Nausea hit me as they came inside. The light from the door allowed me to study my surroundings.

  Rusted walls and floor, a toilet, and a sink where a disgusting smell came from. I didn't even want to think what it was coated in. Plates of food that had seen better days, no bunks or lights, and finally, the rats.

  Several of them with their angry red eyes.

  My breathing escalated. I couldn't suck enough air into my lungs from the fear that overshadowed everything else. “Fuck, she’s panicking.” The other guy in the mask cursed then kneeled in front of me and, with a painful jerk, removed the tape. My lips burned as though he peeled a layer of my skin, and even the light breeze hurt it more. He slapped me hard on the cheek, knocking my head to the side, and tears came to my eyes. “Calm down, bitch. Or you don’t know what we might do to you.” He licked his lips as his alcohol breath fanned my hair. “Those lips would look good around my cock.” The look in his black eyes made me want to crawl out of my skin, and without thinking, I spat in his face.

  Despite the panic and agonizing pain, I was still my father’s daughter.

  And a Cosa Nostra’s princess didn’t bow or take disrespect from anyone.

  He raised his hand, but was stopped when another cold voice ordered, “Mark, step away from her.” My blurry eyes could barely focus when the third man came into my line of vision. With blond-as-the-sun hair, he wore an expensive suit and a sinister smile that didn't reach his blue eyes. I seriously, freaking hated that color.

  Grimacing in disgust, he shuffled away. Mark sat on his haunches, gently touching my cheek even though I made a move to tilt my head back. He grabbed my hair painfully and pulled on it, making me gasp in pain, as he warned, “You better learn to listen, Rosalinda.” His eyes roamed over my face and body, and they slowly started to fill with an expression I didn’t recognize. “What a pretty girl,” he whispered, but somehow his words made me feel dirty. “You’ll be a good little wife of mine.”

  What?

  But before I could react or demand answers, he pressed on the side of my neck, and in a second, I was out.

  Rosa

  Juanita stopped sobbing enough for me to lead her from the sidewalk to the far corner of the street, away from prying eyes, and she still had this dumbstruck expression on her face.

  “He was such a sweet little boy, my Dominic.” Cleaning her nose with the end of her sleeve, she added, “Always polite. Always happy.”

  The sweet little boy turned into a man. My finger lightly touched my lips, which still burned from his kiss. Even if that peck couldn't really be considered as a real kiss, it was the closest contact I ever had with the opposite sex. Well, willingly at least.

  Amber pools filled with longing so profound, everything female in me wanted to reach out to soothe him. For a second, when he held me in his arms, desire struck me like a bolt of lightning, and it couldn't confuse me more.

  How could I react to him so strongly if he reassembled his brother so much? A twin brother at that, who had saved my life and become family to me.

  Could it be because my hormones just demanded to have sex, and he was a magnificent enough specimen of a
man to get a reaction from me?

  Suddenly, the screech of tires on the street had my attention. Three black Jeeps lined up at the sidewalk, and in an instant, my dad got out with several of his bodyguards, who held guns.

  With a cry, I ran toward him, and he picked me up effortlessly. His strong arms embraced me in a hug so fierce I didn't think I could breathe, but I didn't want to let go.

  The scent of cigar and his same cologne washed over me, reminding me of all the Christmases we spent together and the long walks in the park when I was kid.

  “Daddy,” I whispered, and he squeezed me tighter for a second, and then we both leaned back to study each other.

  Years apart weren't kind to him. The wrinkles under his eyes became deeper and more visible, and since he didn't believe a man should dye his hair, many gray locks were entwined with the black. He was still tall. To me, he always seemed like a huge brick wall. He had the softest blue eyes, which gazed at me with love and worry. Plus, he wasn't that old, just turning fifty last month. He would be considered hot among women, although I didn’t want to think about that.

  “Rosalinda.” His knuckles ran over my cheek. “Finally, you’re with me.”

  During our separation, my heart broke for my father, knowing he’d blame himself for this, just as he did with my mother. Especially considering our last conversation, which made me an easy target for them to begin with—not that I ever planned to tell him that. Some things were better left unsaid.

  “Daddy, Sapphire and Kristina are in danger. We need to contact Damian and Connor.” His eyes darkened, and he turned around to bark at one of his enforcers. All those faces were unfamiliar, and it honestly surprised me. Five years wasn't a long time for some of them to retire, but I didn't address the fact. “Get the woman inside.”

  One of them, the youngest, kneeled in front of Juanita, whispering to her gently as his hand inspected her pulse and reactions. My dad had a rule about his mafia. One of the enforcers on call should have a medical degree or at least have knowledge of advanced first aid. They never knew when guns might be fired and stuff might happen. The man addressed my dad, “She is in shock. I don’t think it’s more than that. I’d still run her by the hospital though because of her age.”