Under Control: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance
Under Control: Chapter 30

I’m so nervous I feel sick as Valentin takes me down the basement stairs.

In my head, I’m about to walk into a dungeon: blood on the walls, chains dangling from the ceiling, torture devices lined up like exercise equipment.

Instead, it’s just a nice, normal finished basement.

The floor is covered with lush carpet. There’s a bar on the left, the wood gleaming, with plenty of liquor lining the back cabinets. On the right is a workout area with a black rubbery floor and a long row of mirrors. We turn into a large media room with comfortable chairs and an enormous projection screen against one wall.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had all this?” I ask, feeling a little giddy at the sudden discovery of yet another luxury.

“Because I didn’t want you accidentally stumbling on something you weren’t supposed to see.”

“Oh, right, you definitely need to keep the weights hidden.” I roll my eyes and grin at him. “It’s not like I thought you were magically that physically fit.”

“I was born this way,” he grunts and walks across the media room to another door on the far wall. “And this isn’t what I’m hiding from you.”

He takes a key from his pocket and puts it in a locked deadbolt. I frown slightly as it opens. Why does this door lock from the outside? He pulls it open and steps into what looks like a normal utility room.

Until he flicks on the light.

Half the space is given over to the water system and the air conditioning unit. And the other half is covered in plastic.

There’s plastic sheeting on the ceiling, on the floor, and hanging from the walls. Valentin steps through a slit down one section of it and enters into the plastic-wrapped area, but I don’t follow him.

There’s a table on the far wall covered in what looks like tools. It’s hard to tell because the plastic warps everything past it, but I think there’s a hammer, a screwdriver, several clamps, and knives.

Lots of knives.

But what’s worse is the man strapped to a chair.

He’s young. Maybe a couple years older than me. His head lolls to one side and he doesn’t move when Valentin circles him. My heart races up into my throat as I realize this person must be my cousin, and I suddenly wish Valentin had never brought me here.

Now I understand why the basement was off limits.

His murder room is down here.

“Come, Karine,” he says, his voice a command I have to obey.

I step through the sheeting.

The man looks even younger up close. His hair is cut short and perfectly lined up. He’s got a stubbly beard coming in, and he’s wearing tight, trendy clothes. His nose is crooked and swollen, and his eyes are both bruised.

Blood stains the front of his Dolce and Gabbana shirt.

“This is Arsen,” Valentin says as he gently slaps the young man.

He groans and his eyes blink as he raises his head. “Fuck,” he says and spits to the side. A gob of blood hits the plastic. “What the fuck?” He comes fully awake and alert, and he stares around him in a panic.

“Arsen, glad you’re with us again.” Valentin crouches down in front of him. “I’d like you to meet your cousin. Karine, come introduce yourself.”

I feel sick, but I do as he says. I walk behind him and stare at Arsen, and I’m deeply disturbed to see some of my mother in him. The same cheeks. The same eyes. I have a little of that in me, too.

I remember him from the country club. He seemed distant and terrifying back then, but here in the middle of this hell, he’s just another young man. A distinctly and strangely familiar young man.

“Hello,” I say, feeling nervous for some reason. I’ve never really met my family before.

“Fuck you,” he snaps and glares at Valentin. “You’re going to die for this. You realize that? My father’s not going to let you do this to me.”

Valentin hits him hard. I take a step back in surprise. Arsen’s head snaps to the side and he grunts in pain as my husband grabs his hair and pulls his head back, exposing his throat. A knife appears in his other hand, and he presses the tip to the center of Arsen’s throat, right on the tip of his Adam’s Apple.

“Understand something. The moment you are no longer useful to me is the moment I kill you. And believe me, I look forward to watching you die.”

Arsen gags and stares, eyes wild with terror.

Valentin releases him and steps away. The knife returns to the sheath hidden in his pocket.

Excitement rolls down my spine.

It mixes with a sick, horrified revulsion at this horrible place. But I can’t fight the pure, animalistic intensity I feel watching my husband dominate and threaten a member of my own family.

There’s something gorgeous and primal about the stink of fear in the air.

And I realize something in that moment.

Valentin is a terrifying creature and seems utterly without mercy or remorse. He’d happily cut my cousin’s neck ear to ear if it got him what he wanted, and I don’t think he’d lose even a second of sleep over it.

But I’m not afraid of him.

I should be. He’d treat me this way if it got him what he wanted. There’s no reason to think a monster like Valentin will always love me and want to keep me safe.

And yet I do anyway.

I trust him on a deep, fundamental level.

If I were a rational, normal person, I’d run screaming from here and never look back, except I like this.

I like the power and the terror.

I want more of it, and that’s what I’m really afraid of.

Maybe I didn’t only inherit my family’s looks.

Maybe I inherited their ruthlessness.

Valentin gestures at Arsen while staring back at me. “This is the man that burned your mother’s house down. This is the man that left her for dead.”

My heart races into my throat. “You’re serious?”

“He hasn’t confessed yet, but I have good intel saying it was him. We’ll get him to talk, if that’s what you want.”

I stare at my husband. “If that’s… what I want? Why does what I want matter?”

“Because he is a gift to you.” Valentin walks to me. He strides and each step radiates a powerful energy. It courses into me, rocks me deep to my core. He puts his hands on my hips and leans forward to kiss me gently, and even though it’s horribly perverse, kissing me in front of our captive in a room designed for killing, I love him even more for it.

“I don’t want him,” I whisper, trembling, and lean forward to press my head against his chest. He’s warm and his heart is so steady like this is something he does all the time.

“I’m offering him to you for revenge. Kill him yourself if that will make you feel better. Order me to kill him instead if you can’t do it or if that won’t bring you peace. He’s yours, and I’m your instrument in this. Tell me what you want.”

I glance to the side. Arsen’s watching us with pure terror in his face. His mouth is pulled into what looks like an aborted scream, and he’s struggling against his bonds, but he can’t get loose.

I think about killing him. I picture what that would feel like.

But I’m not a murderer, and it would stay with me in a way it wouldn’t stay with Valentin.

“Keep him,” I say, looking back at my husband. “That’s what you want, right? He’s useful?”

“He’s useful,” Valentin confirms. “His father will likely want him back. He’s a bargaining chip. He can also be a trap.”

“Then keep him.”

“Are you sure?”

I stand on my toes and just barely reach his mouth with mine. “I’m sure. Thank you for the present.”

“You’re welcome, malishka.”

We kiss for another few seconds until Arsen’s voice ruins the moment.

“You two are sick,” he says, tone trembling. “You’re fucking sick. My father is going to kill you both, you sick, twisted fucking psychopaths.”

Valentin sighs and pats my ass. “Go now,” he says, turning to face my cousin. “I have work to do.” He walks to the table and picks up a wicked-looking knife.

“What are you going to do?” I ask him, genuinely curious.

“I’m going to ask him questions. He’s going to answer truthfully, and if I don’t believe him, I’m going to hurt him. We’ll be busy for a while.”

“Wait,” Arsen says, staring at me. “Wait, Karine. Hold on. Please, don’t let him do this. We’re family, right?”

I feel my expression flatten as I look at my cousin.

“You tried to kill your own aunt,” I tell him. “Valentin’s all the family I need now.”

“No!” Arsen wails as I walk back through the plastic. “No, Karine, please! Come back, don’t let him do this. Don’t let him do this!”

He screams in agony as I leave the utility room and shut the door behind me.

All noise is abruptly cut off.

I consider heading upstairs, but instead I replace a big, complicated remote, make myself comfortable on one of the media room couches, and start figuring out how to put on a movie while I wait for my husband to finish talking with my cousin.