SINNERS -23

Valentina Vasilief

The pounding didn’t want to stop, my brain pounded in different directions. I couldn’t control the muscles within my body, each movement felt like something pulled me back reframing me from any further motion. Any amount of manoeuvring made me exhausted, physically draining the energy from me.

Strained intakes of air filled my ears, lava poured all over my body and the sensations of my skin being boiled ignited my senses. Sweat dripped down my exposed skin, droplets upon droplets soaking my pores. I couldn’t open my lids, they felt heavy and being confined to the darkness felt better than attempting the impossible. Then, like a pest feasting upon my brain. I knew I had to open them, which is what I did.

It wasn’t much of a difference compared to when they were shut, darkness. Only reigniting my remaining senses, the stench of death plagued my nostrils.

Shit- it stank. Everything rushed into me, the temporary amnesia fading and the true motives of my presence flooded back. This is when the anger, frustration and pure rage seeped in. Despite my exterior and personality, I wasn’t oblivious to the underworld. Danger is a given in this line of work, my brother may have not ever thought of this day coming but I did. Somehow, this felt entirely different and life threatening. Okay, I may have exaggerated the last part.

When it came to my brother, our differences varied more than the business. Everyone pegs Jack to be this monster just because he is at the top and feel sorry for his sister who has to live with such a creature. I despise those cunts, who are you to judge what you don’t see?

I am the sweet baby sister but I harbour the same demons like everyone else, life isn’t all Roses, you know, there are Thorns and you are going to get hurt. Jack tried his best to shield me from the evil revolving around us but you can’t control everything forever.

Demons bring suffering and that is what I didn’t want to happen to the people I hold close to my heart, who I love. I hated seeing people in pain, watching them slowly detach from the world. Therefore, I became the sister to almost everyone that associated with The Vasilief. Only, I wished I didn’t become a friend to one. The most beautiful, unique, charismatic and extraordinary human to ever walk the earth.

He never seized to amaze me and it tugged on my heart that within this moment that he would never know my true feelings, that where more than what I led on. It is our faults; we established our connection based on pleasure but that didn’t; mean his entire aura didn’t make me fall for him. In the face of death, the only thing I desired at this moment is his deep voice telling me bad jokes that still made me laugh.

Did he know I was gone? Did he even care?

Everyone has secrets especially in the underworld that involved drugs, sex, money and powerful men. With a protective older brother, who is currently the youngest and most ruthless Gang Leader against all, hiding many things went unnoticed. It almost seemed like yesterday when I had a crush on this boy at the age of sixteen and because he was a descendant of a famous family, Jack threatened the poor boy and I mean the life or death kind of threats. To this day, I have no idea if he went with the later option.

My brother, the ruthless, powerful leader. Is also my saviour, despite many obstacles that gave him plenty reason to disown me, to abuse me, to end me. He Didn’t, he remained the loving and caring brother that I knew since birth. There wasn’t a moment in life that I felt I lacked any affection after our lives changed, Jack did everything to make my life as simple as possible. Often the thought would keep me up at night, at such a young age he had to sacrifice a lot to become a parent towards his little sister. That’s why I admire him, aspire to be like him.

The Vasilief are a family, occupied by different characters that often clash with others but in the end, we are a dysfunctional family that will die for each other, literally. But I knew the first time I met him, I could recall the moment my heart stopped beating. He Didn’t resemble the typical persona of the men that I was surrounded by on a daily basis. There is something so ethereal about him, his personality wasn’t like the others, cold and distant. His entire aesthetic revolved around making other people laugh and somehow that brought him joy. Pink candy floss curls almost reminding me of strawberry ice cream, such a vivid colour for a murderer. Eyes the colour of smoke, deep and rich. The odd contrast made him entirely captivating and unearthly, with a bubbly personality and perfectly carved features, there wasn’t anything I could do to prevent myself from becoming hypnotised. That’s when I knew, no one will ever capture my attention the way he does. Bewitching eyes that always sparkled, almost glittering whenever you stare endlessly into the fog. He was lean and defined which made him all the more appetising, each ridge of his six pack still indented into my brain when I licked each curve. The way his defined muscles felt against my soft skin, resembled a puzzle being complete.

The endless nights of passion, the secrecy. EVERYTHING played into effect, stimulating my muscles and making my core ache. I vividly remember the day he walked in for the celebration of Jack reaching the number one spot. We all met at Zanzibar. I expected every guy to wear a suit and then he arrived, entirely different from everyone else. His coat had a mixture of cherry, marigold, lime and other various colours in the rainbow, which all seemed to form part of a pattern. White formal shirt that snugly had a bright red bow tie situated at his neck, dark charcoal slacks and white converse sneakers. It baffled everyone but it also made everyone gravitate towards him, the entire outfit matched him perfectly to me. It expressed his personality, eccentric and colourful. My heart rate accelerated, I could hear the pounding in my ears.

In that moment, four years ago, I knew my heart undoubtedly wouldn’t beat the same, wouldn’t dare desire another. Maybe that’s why I give in without a thought of the consequences because I want him, heart, body and soul. Having his body will never be enough but having any part of him made me feel whole. See, I am not the innocent Valentina Vasilief that everyone thinks I am.

‘Princess is awake,’ the foul voice teased.

That nauseating voice, all too familiar. The filthy Greek leader, the one who completely loses his sanity. Flicking the switch, harsh rays of light blinding my vision, making it slightly blurry as the two figures approached me. Tugging my wrists, they were held compressed against the chair. Tying me to a chair, how original. This is truly pathetic at least chain me to the floor, the knots weren’t even tied correctly.

‘Asshole Bane!’ I smirked, watching his face turn all different shades of red.

He ran his fingers through inky curls, ‘I thought you said she was the nice one,’ aiming at the direction of an unfamiliar face.

'Sorry to burst your bubble. Well, not really,’ I sarcastically replied, coughing in the process due to my parched throat.

Bane didn’t like my response, gripping my shirt and pulling me flush towards his face. ‘You have the personality of your bastard brother,’ he spat, hazelnut eyes darkening at the sight of me.

I smirked, ‘That is a compliment, my brother is still number one and what are you fourth or fifth?’

His mouth slightly ajar, about to reply before I shook my head and a slight chuckle escaped my lips ‘OH, don’t you mean that you are the bastard. After all, your parents didn’t even want you.’

Those words must have struck a chord in his twisted brain, his nostrils flared and a stinging sensation vibrated against my left cheek. Heat radiating throughout my body from the intensity, the force he used made me question whether he broke my jaw. The trickle of warm blood sliding down my cheek, psycho cut my cheek. My gaze fell down, upon the discoloured floor. His gloating didn’t stop, they simply focused on other arguments instead of keeping an eye on me. Which they should have since I continued to fiddle with the loose knots that restrained my hands.

‘Where is your smart mouth now princess,’ he teased from above.

Returning my gaze to his disgusting body, I smirked through my busted lip. ‘Not up your ass like your friend there,’ I motioned with my head towards the supposed bodyguard near him.

‘You’re a crazy bitch,’ he growled, landing another blow against my right cheek.

That’s defiantly going to swell. The metallic taste of liquid flooding my tongue, slightly blurring my vision from the impact. Didn’t stop me from tugging on the ropes which finally gave in and untied.

‘Cat got your tongue princess?’ he questioned with a victorious grin as his breath sank upon my face.

I chuckled, ‘No, but I’m about to get yours.’

Lunging at him forcefully, gripping both his ears, I placed both my thighs on his shoulders. Squeezing my thighs against his skull, flipping my body backwards. His entire body landed flat on the floor, landing perfectly on my feet, I smirked at his friend who practically looked like he pissed his pants. A grin morphed onto my lips, kicking his dick made him scream like a girl which didn’t surprise me. Bane wrapped his arm around my neck, his elbow pressing against my jugular. He slowly decreased my oxygen intake, clawing at his arm I elbowed his face. Bane stumbled back, clutching his nose in pain and to stop the blood from further flow. Kicking my right foot against his head, he gripped my foot before I could land a blow but I twisted my body enough to land my left foot against his ugly face.

‘Losing to a girl, isn’t that pathetic,’ I mocked.

‘I am going to skin you alive,’ he growled.

‘Is that a challenge?’

Bane’s wicked grin appeared, ‘It’s a promise.’ Almost immediately the boiling of my skin began, one by one corrupting the nerves within my body. My lids couldn’t stand to be open any longer, muscles aching and the sensation of my energy being drained from me continued. Losing my balance, I collided with the floor as my vision slowly gave away, his shoes where the last thing I could see before I closed my eyes.

THIRD POV

Silence, it resonated throughout the room. All the wheels where turning in his brain, each emotion consuming him to the point that he couldn’t breathe. She was taken and he wasn’t even in the same country to prevent it, he resented himself in that moment, not being able to protect her. His HEART felt incomplete, empty without her. Suffocating from the way his heart squeezed at the recognition, Valentina was kidnapped.

What should he feel? What was he suppose to feel?

A mixture of every emotion devoured his soul, in all his years of being a merciless killer. This moment is when he became the most vulnerable. It bewildered him, the replay of innumerable nights of ecstasy they spent together, ravaging each other. It became intoxicating, compelling and those moments when she would sleep soundlessly, he would stare at her enchanting features. Sometimes her face would snuggle into the pillow, glowing porcelain skin of her naked back exposed to the illuminating moon that almost drew crystals on the curve of her spine. His finger would delicately trace her silky skin, the bruises from their nights of intensity never seized to amaze him. The hunger for her never subsided, no matter how many times they would be together.

Numerous times he would practice, drawing the words that he could never say to her. Her scent became imprinted in his brain, luscious roses flourishing within him. When he would leave her, silently sleeping from their time together, her scent still lingered on his clothes and on his skin.

He knew the moment that ultimately altered his future forever, when he saw her at the party. Decadent chocolate curls cascaded upon her backless raven dress, deep cleavage line that accentuated her breasts and a dangerously sexy thigh high slit. It petrified him, the unwanted attention from horny men that couldn’t keep their eyes off of her. He loathed the way she could capture any mans attention even without lifting a finger, everyone drooled over her mouth - watering appearance. An expensive diamond bracelet wrapped around her forearm, concealing the tattoo on her inner forearm. It was her favourite word in Korean, LOVE. There was various questions he wanted to ask, especially the language of choice.

The swirl of gold that magnified in the sun, milk chocolate spiralling with her emeralds, each time he would stare into them always wondering how magnificent the colours swished together. Valentina caught his attention the first time they laid eyes on each other, sounds ironic and a little cliché. He thought her features were exquisite, high cheek bones and perfectly shaped lips but her personality is what held him prisoner. He understood the admiration that everyone had for her, she entranced him with her spells and now she owned him.

In their time together, nothing felt righter than to give into his feelings but a Saint could never love a Sinner. Not once did the yearn for her subside, being in love with her never disappeared. He could never admit it, placing her in more danger than she already was in, his enemies would come for her in a heartbeat. That’s something he couldn’t live with and now she will never know his true feelings. Running his fingers through his curly hair, the memory of Valentina running her fingers through them, tugging on them during their time of Love Making. He could see them, like a movie playing out in his brain, watching the sweat trickle between her breasts. The first time they made love has always been in his heart, taking something valuable From Valentina that night. He didn’t want to take it, knowing who he is but something made him lose control. It stunned him that she relished in marking him, moaning his name like a sweet melody, it electrified his cells each time. Plush, juicy lips leaving lingering kisses against his heated body, the taste of her still tickling his tongue. She tasted sweet, like sugar and honey infused and nothing ever satisfied his sweet tooth like Valentina.

The memories just made his body numb and yet he still felt all the heartache raining on him. Each emotion in the book bombarded him at once like a hurricane and his vision blurred, the warmth of his tears seeping onto his cheek.

Staring at his wrist, he delicately traced the tattoo with his thumb almost reminiscing about her against his finger. Both tattoos were the same, Love and each time he looked at his wrist it reminded him of the one thing that he loves most, Valentina Vasilief.

‘I Love you Valentina,’ he whispered, running his finger over the tattoo.