Kissed by Shadows: A Forced Proximity Dark Mafia Romance (The Shadowmen Book 1)
Kissed by Shadows: Chapter 15

Goosebumps pepper my broken and bruised skin as the chill from the basement settles into my very bones. I fucking ache, the pain a constant throb that allows me no rest, the freezing, damp basement underneath my father’s mansion not helping.

Failure is not a word Sergi likes, nor does he tolerate it within his organisation, especially not from his son. And my failure to bring Iris back home needed to be punished, so after another round of beating, which definitely broke a rib or two this time, I was stripped and hauled down here, to a place that, as a child, I was intimately familiar with.

I clearly remember the first time I was brought down here, after my father forced me to witness the murder of my mother. Betrayal is another word on his blacklist, and he’d caught her with one of his men. The man was flayed alive, and I managed to watch that without any issue, already having started my training a year before, on my sixth birthday.

It was when he allowed man after man to come in and rape my mother that I cracked, begging him to make it stop, useless tears pouring down my face. He just looked at me, his upper lip curled, then took a gun from one of his men, pointed it at my mother’s head, and pulled the trigger.

I lost it, clawing at him, screaming and sobbing as the light left her beautiful blue eyes. She was my light before Iris, always ready with a soft touch and kind words. Even when father forbade it, she’d do it in secret, waiting until we were alone to lavish me with affection.

There were no more cuddles after that day, just cold brutality and time spent in this godforsaken underground hole, wondering what my life might be like if I was normal, like the other rich kids at the private boys’ school I was sent to.

And then one day, not long after my tenth birthday, he took me to Holland Park, to a mansion that rivalled ours, and I met Iris. It was early summer, and a staff member took me into the garden where she sat on a blanket in the grass, a china tea set in front of her, her blonde hair curly and the sunlight glinted off it creating a halo. Something inside my chest burst free at that moment, and I knew that I would protect her for the rest of my days. The feeling was solidified when she looked up, her face still that of a toddler, and demanded that I join her for tea.

I used to cherish my visits to her house because her light was so pure. It was like it burned away the dark things that my father made me do. It wasn’t until she became a teenager, blossoming into the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, that my feelings of protection morphed into those of love and desire.

But I never acted upon it, even though I wasn’t blind to the appraising looks she’d give me any time I came over. I was twenty-two to her sixteen, not to mention I had no intention of infecting her with the darkness that inhabited me, colouring my soul pitch black. As time went on, I’d often only catch glimpses of her, my father keeping me with him as I got older to learn the business side of his ventures.

Then I was sent to Russia, the fatherland, to hone my training and become a man, and the memory of her and her light was often the only thing to keep me going, to chase the terror, loneliness, and darkness away. I clung to the memories I had, using them to warm my cold body on the freezing winter nights. Her letters helped, bringing her light with her every time one came. I had to take precautions when I was doing my time in the Gulag, getting one of my trusted men on the outside to forward the letters to me and for me. I just couldn’t live without them, especially in that place of horror.

I tip my head back, resting it against the rough concrete wall, a shudder wracking my body. Soon I’ll stop feeling cold, that’s when you have to worry a little, though I know my father will never leave me down here long enough to actually kill me.

That day, when we pulled up to the beautiful mansion and confronted her father about his debts, was both the best and worst day of my life. I remember the sheer terror of knowing that she was walking into a pit of snakes and the almost soul-crushing sadness when her father agreed to give her in exchange for his freedom. There was white-hot rage too, because how could he have given her away, no matter the circumstances? This was going to be a wound that may never heal, and I had to make sure she was safe afterwards, even if that meant sending her away.

I unleashed a monster that day in order to win her virginity, my savagery impressing even my father as I killed one of his men with nothing but my hands and teeth in record time. The beast in me roared at taking what was mine by rights, and although I know she should have had more of a choice, I still don’t regret being her first.

How could I when she was always meant to be mine?

The door creaks open, the slice of light from the hallway outside making me squint as pain spears through my temple.

“Fucking hell, you look like shit,” Andrei states, striding in, Dima following behind him. Blinking, I look up at them, unable to make my stiff limbs move even an inch. Tutting, Andrei crouches down in front of me, scanning me before blowing out a breath. “This will probably hurt like a bitch.”

Getting to his feet, he gives Dima a nod, and then Dima bends down at my side, grabbing my arm and placing it over his thick neck. A groan slips free as he jostles my broken ribs, and he pauses, allowing me a moment to breathe through the pain, all of us aware that one of my father’s men is waiting outside and will report any weakness back.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper, and gritting my teeth together hard enough to crack them, I give the barest of nods. Then he slides his own arm around my back to haul me to my unsteady feet.

The world dips and tilts, and it’s lucky I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since they left me down here because I’d be vomiting all over the floor and our feet if I had. Again, he gives me a minute to just fucking breathe, Andrei coming in front of me and blocking any view of my struggles.

My chest swells with the knowledge that, unlike when I was a child, I’m not alone anymore. I have loyal men, friends, who will help me through this and the trials to come.

“Let’s get out of here,” I hiss, my voice croaking with disuse and pain.

Lightning shoots up my side as we move, and I’m barely able to place one foot in front of the other, but we make our way out of the dark, dank room and into the hallway. As I suspected, one of my father’s men, Ivan, is waiting, the scorn clear on his face as he curls his lip at me. He used to hit me the hardest when I was a child, the sick satisfaction of hurting someone weaker than him clear by the gleam in his eyes. He’ll be the first to die alongside the man he serves, and I’ll make sure it’s not a quick death.

Ignoring the sneers of other men who work for my father as we pass them, we make our way down the corridor and up the basement stairs. I’m sweating, dipping in and out of consciousness when we reach the top, and we have to pause in order for me to catch my breath.

We don’t stop for long though, not wanting them to see me any weaker than they already do, and before long, we continue the agonising journey to my wing, every step stealing my breath until I’m barely panting.

As soon as we step through the doors to my suite, I sag, almost taking Dima down with me.

“Get him on the bed!” Andrei hisses, and Dima sweeps me in his massive arms, a cry of agony falling from my lips as he jostles all my injuries. “I’ve got some morphine right here, Nikolai.”

A prick in my arm is followed by a slow numbing of my aches as Dima gently sets me down on the bed. I’m naked and filthy, although luckily I got one of the cells with a toilet, so at least I’m not covered in my own excrement.

I sink back into the sheets, knowing Andrei will see to my injuries. It’s what he’s done for me even before he qualified as a doctor, and he’s methodical and gentle as he assesses me, cleaning up my various cuts and scrapes before stitching me up where necessary.

My eyelids drift shut, the painkillers working to rest and relax me enough, my body finally giving in to the sleep that I denied for the past few days.

“We’ve got you, Nikolai. Sleep now, brother.” Dima’s deep voice washes over me, giving me the final permission I needed to embrace the darkness.