Callas POV:
The plane landed, and I had never been more upset. I had to sit through a long ass flight that made me want to die, but I think I slept for most of it, because I don't recall throwing up at all. I know if I was awake, I would have thrown up at least twice from looking at Illeya, Steffen, and their other 8 goons.
To make things worse, I just wanted to be with Sinister again. I wanted him to hold me, kiss me, be with me. I wanted nothing more than to be with him, forever. That was what marriage was meant for, right? To be with the person you love, to be able to hold them in your arms, and never let them go.
I hated Sinister when I met him. I hated him for the longest time, but I think I really started caring about him when I got to know him. When I saw that crystal smile spread over his face, when I heard his laugh. I know I rushed into is, hell, I ran into it. But isn't that what love is?
You don't take safe baby steps, with your eyes closed shut, ready for anything to go wrong as you step into the dark. You run. You sprint into love, with your eyes wide open, and your heart in your hands.
He made me feel safe, he held me close with protective arms, and that sneaky little smile on his devilishly handsome face.
I thought he was the devil when I first met him. But now I know...he's Satan himself. He took me to hell, and I welcomed the journey.
I wanted Sinister to be my side, right now. His lips pressed into my ear, calling me flower, telling me how much he loved me. He was a broken and damaged killer, who had done things that are inexplicable. When I had first met him, I thought he would have killed me in an instant. But isn't that darkly beautiful? A man you once detested, changing everything, being everything you thought he couldn't be, just to be with you. I wish I was with him, right now.
But that was a wish...something I knew wouldn't happen. He wouldn't find me.
"Lets go." Steffen said calmly standing beside me, extending a hand.
I pretended to place my hand in his, instead I pulled my hand back and gave him the finger.
Victory.
Steffen placed his hand on the small of my back, as he urged me out of the plane. I wanted to bite all of his retarded fingers off. The iced air of Russia greeted me with a slap. I hated it here, I just wanted to go home.
There was 2 silver sedans waiting for us as we stepped off the jet, men waited outside the cars.
Not impressive.
I didn't even need anyone to drag me, instead I flicked off the men waiting outside the car and hopped in. I was too upset, and too depressed to fight them.
I want to lay next to Sinister, and listen to the beat of his heart. I just wanna close my eyes and fall asleep in his arms. I just want to feel him next to me, and completely forget the world.
I closed my eyes tightly, and I felt like screaming as I sensed people piling into the car. I kept my eyes closed as I felt the car lurch into gear.
***
After an hour of driving in silence I felt the car lull to a stop, my eyes were still squeezed shut. I couldn't bring myself to open them, I couldn't watch the ghost of a home be relived.
So I pretended like I wasn't even there.
"Calla, get out of the car. We're home."
I cracked open an eye, staring at Steffen, "no, we're not home. Home is being around the people you love...and I hate all of you."
He shook his dark auburn hair, his gray eyes looked completely unamused. Join my pissed off club...JOIN IT.
I stepped out of the car, glancing around the pale white walls of a small garage. Hah, Sinister's garage is bigger, suck it.
"Let's get you stetted in, we purchased you clothes..." He said slowly, glancing at my outfit before walking through a door.
I looked around, noticing Illeya standing beside the car, still tapping away at his phone.
"Get off Tinder, nobody's gonna love you." I called out, as I trailed after Steffen.
He stood inside a modern looking kitchen, with silver appliances, and clean granite counter tops.
"This" I motioned to the kitchen "is the stupidest kitchen I've ever seen."
"Come with me, let's get you changed." He muttered, ignoring my comment completely, and walking away.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I snorted, following him through a well-furnished living room.
He glanced at me from behind his shoulder, "you're dressed like a boy, it's revolting."
"And you're dressed like a prick, it makes me want to jab my eyes out with a spork." I retorted.
He didn't say anything, and I was happy about that. He was pretending like all of my snarky comments didn't bother him, I suppose that means I have to increase my insults until he finally cracks.
We walked past the living room, and down a hall that was crowded with doors, voices could be heard from behind.
Creepy.
"Your frat house is kinda tiny."
"It's not a frat house, Calla. It's a home for the family."
"Ooh the family? Did you go gay with Sebastian and adopt Ethiopian babies? Finally you have done something cute."
"No, it's a home for the family. Our gang is a family." He started walking up a flight of large stairs.
I sighed, trudging up the steps after him.
At the top of the stairs, there were 3 sets of long halls, all of which had a series of doors on both sides. This house is a little bigger than I thought...
He stopped at the third door to the right of the stairs.
"This" he opened the door "is your room. Illeya had it decorated. The closets and drawers are filled with clothes, but if you don't like anything, let me know and I'll fix it."
I stepped into a large room, it had Queen sized bed that was frilly and white. The walls were painted a pale blue, and there was white wooden desk in the corner. It looked just like my room growing up.
I felt like throwing up as I peered closely at the desk, there were picture frames...with old pictures of my family. Me, Illeya, mom and dad. I recognized one of the pictures immediately, it was a photo taken on my birthday almost 7 years ago....the picture had been taken before my parents died, I had the cheesiest smile on my face, my mom was standing right next to me. She was just like me, she was fiery, and had that same mischievous glint in her big blue eyes. My father was standing next to us, a stiff hand placed on Illeya's shoulders. He was the strict parent, always away on business trips, always the logical thinker. Him and Illeya were alike in that way, but my father had something Illeya would never have; the capability of love.
I turned away from the picture, my heart churning, "What the fuck is this?"
"Your family photos." Steffen shrugged. I wanted to set his hair on fire.
"That's sick." I muttered, taking the frame and putting it face down on the wood.
"shower, get dressed, wear something nice, do your makeup...you're meeting the rest of the family in an hour."
I glanced down at my sweatshirt, "what's wrong with this? Are we meeting Vladimir Putin? Is that why I have to dress up?"
"You look like a slob, Calla. Shower, get dressed, look like the beautiful girl you once were, not this Russian Mafia whore." He gestured to all of me.
I took a step back, "Okayy ya little fuck, let us get a few things straight. I hate you, I hate looking at you, I hate even breathing the same air as you. But, do not call me a fucking whore, or I swear to god, I will suffocate you in your sleep."
He chuckled and shook his head, "What happened to the sweet girl that I dated? You used to be so sweet. Sure, you always had that fiery part of you, but you used to be perfect."
"that girl died the day I left this hell hole. If I were you, I'd lock my door tonight, because I swear to holy jesus, I will fucking slit your throat." I seethed.
I was pissed, my body was literally shaking for the hate I felt for the snake that stood in front of me.
His watery eyes stared at me for a long moment before he turned towards the door. "I'll be back in an hour."
The door clicked behind him. The lil ginger really did me like that, he really locked me in.
"FUCK!"I screamed, burrying my head in a pillow and sobbing into it.
I can't do it, I fucking can't do it. I'm not strong enough.
I need Sinister here, I need someones shoulder to cry on. I need him here to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. But It's not. Everything isn't okay, the only person that could keep me from falling apart is thousands of miles away. My brother and ex boyfriend, the two men I hate with all of my heart, have taken me to the place I never wanted to come back to. They have taken me away from the only thing my heart has ever let me love. They took me away from my Russian mobster, and I want to fucking scream.
I remember that one night, that one beautiful night...when Sinister and I were at the ball. And he held me in his arms as we danced, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I remember when he saved me from the Italians, when he came after me, holding me close, hugging me as I sobbed into his arms. I remember when he proposed to me...telling me that I would always be his little flower...
I wiped a tear away, shaking my head away from the memories that I would give anything to relive.
I let out an emotional sigh, as I stepped into the painstakingly clean bathroom. I had to squint my eyes away from the bleach white counter tops and bath.
Fucking shit, asslicking, dick, cunt, twat, bitchass, prick, shithead FUCK.
I rubbed my eyes, pulling off Sinisters hoodie and hiding it under the cabinet.
I stripped down, hopping into the steaming shower. These assholes got me expensive shampoo, I hope they all wake up underwater.
I stepped out of the shower, drying my hair, and throwing on minimal makeup.
I trudged over to the closet with a fluffy towel securely wrapped around my body. Inside the closet there was an indescribable amount of clothes, all fancy, and there were no fucking oversized sweatshirts. DAMMIT.
There was nothing remotely casual, and I felt like Illeya did this on purpose. He knows how much I love my big t-shirts and sweatpants.
I grabbed a plain black dress with spaghetti straps, and slid it over my head. I glanced at the shoe rack...where are the sneakers? where the FUCK ARE THE SNEAKERS?!?
I will literally go to a zoo right now...and feed myself to the polar bears, I swear to god.
I walked back into the bathroom, grabbing a tube of red lipstick and wrote on the bathroom mirror in big blocky letters:
QUEERS
You know what? Fuck it. I ran over to the large windows of the room, throwing back the white curtains as I tried to open it.
There were locks on the windows, are you shitting me right now?
I guess I'll just have to break the window. I am getting the fuck outta here.
I yanked the desk chair towards the window, reeled back, and thew it at the glass with as much force as I could muster.
Nothing. Not even a fucking crack in the glass.
How does Liam Neeson do it?
I took in a long breath, "I am one with the force, the force is with me...."
I said this line about 12 more times before slamming the chair against the glass again.
Nothing. What the fuck is this window made of? Dwayne the Rock Johnsons penis? No? Okay, then WHY ISN'T IT BREAKING?!
There was a knock at the door, a brief pause, and then the door opened. Illeya wore another crisp dress shirt, his face was slightly amused as he stared at me.
"It's plexiglass, Calla. It won't break."
I frowned, huffing out a frustrated breath.
"Where are your shoes?" he asked, staring at my bare feet.
"Sorry, I like sneakers, not whatever is in that closet."
He walked into the closet, coming back with a pair of black heels.
"Wear these." he handed the death machines to me.
"Nah, I'm okay, they look a little bitchy." I smiled fakely "but you should wear them, they'll go with your personality."
His face grew deadly serious, "wear the shoes, Calla."
"How about you wear the shoes, shithead?"
He let out a growl, "Wear the shoes, or I swear, I will make you regret it."
The smile was wiped off my face, as I snatched the shoes away from his slimy grasp. I really hope this man decides to go swimming while holding bricks, that'd make me a happy camper.
"Now" he sighed "let's go introduce you to the family."