Armon's Revenge

By Maebel Credence

Sasha
"I like to think I make the world a better place." That was the answer Armon gave when I asked about his profession. I didn't know his charming words and dazzling smile hid a man set on revenge against my family, who'd captured and tormented his sister.

This lethal vigilante captured me, so I would spend the rest of my life paying for my family's wrongdoing. Despite every evil he's committed, and every terrible thing he has forced me to do, I can't help but lose my heart to him. And if he has his way, my journey to redemption will leave me just as corrupted.

Armon
When my sister was captured during a war operation, Sasha did little more than keep her company as she suffered abuses. This woman is my enemy in every way imaginable. Love or hate her for who she is, she's mine, and I will never let her go.

Set on a backdrop of war and an underworld of corruption to be dealt with, this is a mafia-style tale with a guaranteed HEA.

This book contains dark romantic themes, vigilante violence, and elements of horror disturbing to some readers. More detailed information can be found on maebelcredence.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maebel Credence
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223687986

Book preview

Chapter One

Anyone examining Katya would have believed she'd been rescued from a battlefield, but she'd endured what I would consider worse. A consequence of war, my father called it. Words that too easily excused how she’d come to live with us.

I knew the truth of what caused her plight. My brother had captured her from the neighboring territory during what was called a special operation. While he was away for the last several weeks, my father visited her nightly.

He'd set up a room for her in our garage. Not a room designed for someone in need of a home. She wasn't human in his eyes. She was a them. Someone of lesser birth from a hostile neighboring country. He permitted me to care for her, but only as good medical practice. In truth, I’d begun to feel a kinship to her, despite her nationality. I knelt beside her and gave her water, but she jerked her head as far as the leash padlocked to her collar allowed.

She was nothing like what I’d been led to believe about her cunning people. There was a regalness and straightforward determination in her. The unwavering need to prove she was unbreakable had made the situation worse for her, though. The way she didn’t submit had me pitying her for having such a strong will.

Since her arrival a month ago, things had only gotten worse for her. My first year of nursing school taught me nothing in comparison to her injuries and bruises, and trying to figure out what illnesses ailed her. One of which turned out to be pregnancy.

She seemed resolved to her misery and didn’t want my help. But I had to provide her with some warning. He's home.

She wiped the dark, sweat-drenched hair from her face. The summer heat was just setting in, but it was already miserable in the garage. The bob of her throat was enough for me to know she understood. My brother would be here soon, and he was worse than my father. He also never came alone.

I slid the handful of pills to her. She could take the oxycodone all at once or as needed. If I were her, I'd do the wise thing and kill myself and the unborn bastard child whose father she couldn't be certain of.

My brother will save me. Her only hope for salvation was most likely dead, but I wouldn't make her feel worse. From what I understood, many people from the city where she was captured had already died or fled in the month following the start of the war. Her people, like her, would be proud and fight to the death.

I hope he does.

She huffed. He won't be merciful to your house. It may have been a threat or a warning. Despite all I'd done to help her, she didn't think much of my kindness. It seemed as though she viewed me worse than my father most of the time, but she kept silent on the matter.

I hope not. I would want vengeance if I were her. And I meant the words for her sake, though not for any harm to befall me or my family. No matter their actions, they were still family, and not nearly as bad as some people I knew. Some would treat her far worse than my father did, who usually only fucked her, and he would punish her when she refused to do as ordered. It was my brother’s aggression that worried me, but she represented the death of his comrades, which made him all the angrier.

At the sound of drunken laughter from the doorway, we both recoiled. I was quick to my feet as two men in all black came into the garage. My brother hadn’t come down with them yet, but they weren’t nicer men than him whether he was there or not. The first man, Anders, sneered at the sight of me. We dated briefly in high school, but he’d always been mean. He’d come with my brother to pay visits to Katya before.

He scanned my university top. Higher education had always been something he insulted, as well as ridiculing me for wanting a degree. You come to apologize for being a dick tease? He gripped me by my ponytail and shoved me to the wall. I’d tried to always be away from him, and I hadn’t thought he would be here.

Mik, I sobbed my brother's name loud enough to be heard outside the garage.

You’ll get what you deserve as well as that bitch. Anders let me go right as my brother rushed through the door.

Why the fuck are you in here? Mik's glower was one I always made sure never to provoke.

I looked back to Katya as Anders grabbed her by the thick, black collar. I knew he wouldn’t listen, but still, I said, Don't hurt her.

Little traitor. Are you defending the enemy? Mik snapped.

She’s pregnant.

My brother slapped me, sending my face sideways with searing pain throughout my cheek. If you ever defend one of them again, you will be on a leash in Anders’ garage!

Terrified, I rushed past a stranger, knocking a phone from his hand. Only they were capable of recording an assault to watch later, or possibly stream live for their friends to see.

Once in my room, I looked at the evidence on my reddened cheek where he had hit me. He'd actually threatened to treat me the way they treat Katya. I was family, but he never placed value on me as a sister.

Chapter Two

The next day while in class, I kept my hair smooth to curtain my face to hide the mark where my brother had hit me.

Ever since Katya had been brought into our home, I felt different from everyone else. Even ashamed. Maybe that was why I no longer spoke to the few friends I'd once had. Truth be told, despite Katya’s detest of me, she filled the gap once I'd distanced myself from others. Without her, it felt as though the only people I had were family, and they were hard to accept. Even my mother had mistreated Katya out of jealousy.

I believed my brother's threat about defending Katya and knew better than to return to her while he was home. Instead of going back at the end of the day, I walked across campus to the coffee shop to hang out alone on a couch, watching as the other students talked.

Even they had changed due to the war. Some had relatives lost, others feared the conscription of a loved one. Most of them were affected from a distance—not by someone kept in their garage. But worse would await Katya if someone even crueler had her, and there were plenty of cruel people around.

Is anyone sitting here? a male voice said. I looked across the short table to the man standing in front of the stained, beige corduroy chair.

No one, I mumbled, my gaze roving up worn blue jeans to a gray t-shirt that sat smooth over a toned chest. Even if I wanted to, I'd lost the ability for small talk. As I quickly gathered my belongings, the seat groaned with his weight as he sat.

I'm Armon. He crossed an ankle over a knee. His smile was one that probably worked on any girl on campus. And maybe it would have had me flustered months ago.

I blinked in his direction, forcing my own friendly smile. Sasha.

Sasha, he purred, sitting forward with interest.

Dusk's glow accented his gray eyes and golden skin tone. I got a second, better look at him. Dark brown hair swept smoothly back at his temples. He had a look of casual wealth, like someone who tried to fit in with commoners but went home to luxury. Yet he didn't seem pretentious.

Wonderful meeting you, Sasha. He took a sip from his steaming cup.

You too. I tipped the rest of my cold coffee back then stood to leave.

As I turned, he spoke, Can I get you another? Please.

I felt a bit guilty for my short responses and slumped my shoulders. He seemed nice and maybe lonely. Possibly no different from my state of involuntary solitude. When I glanced back, I gave him a warm smile that ended with a sharp ache in my sore cheek. No, but thank you for the offer.

Am I so atrocious women gather their things and run upon sight? He waved his cup to the barista. Refills for us. He flashed a million-dollar grin that made me certain he knew the question held no truth. Unless you have somewhere more important to be.

The only other place I had to be was at home. At the least, I could appreciate that he was nothing like the people there. It was easy to accept his offer. I slumped onto the small sofa.

I have nowhere to be. I contained the sigh of relief not to go home as well as the comfort of not being alone. Nothing affected me the way loneliness did, and it ate at my psyche more by the day.

For a while, there was silence between us. Companionable, even. Like we were old friends comfortable watching the dramatic lives of college students. Armon seemed to be in his late twenties to early thirties, which set him apart. Maybe getting a master’s degree?

When the coffee came, I thanked him and held mine beneath my nose to breathe it in.

What program are you in? he asked.

Nursing. My nervous sip nearly burned my tongue.

He nodded with one side of his mouth curled upward. I admire people who help others. It's a tough job, but you seem capable to handle it.

I wasn't certain if he was attempting flattery given he knew nothing about me. I appreciated the compliment anyway. Though it had me feeling the pain of knowing I hadn't done much for Katya.

What about you? I asked, trying to keep my fluctuation of emotion under check.

I'm the kind of guy your dad warned you about. He winked, sending a flutter to my chest.

I nodded. If only he knew my father. I doubt that.

He took a moment to examine my expression. After the brief pause, his responding grin revealed dimples. He did like to smile, something people rarely do lately. I fix things. His head bobbed side to side in a playful manner. In a way. I like to think I make the world a better place, at least. He glanced down at the cup I held in front of my chest. I'm surprised a woman so beautiful as you isn't wearing at least an engagement ring.

It had been too long since anyone flirted with me, and his forward behaviors were more humoring than I would have expected. My responding smile reminded me of the pain in my cheek. Then to every other misery plaguing my life. Self-conscious, I smoothed the brown hair down my cheek and glanced at my reflection in the dark liquid. Not that I could see the details though.

Who hit you? His straightforward question had a dry swallow force its way down. I felt flush when I met his curious gaze.

He sat back in his chair with a long, slow breath. After a brief silence, he said, I shouldn't have asked.

I nodded at his apology but said nothing. Embarrassment and shame dragged claws through my psyche. It could be worse. It looked nothing like the bruises I'd treated on Katya.

How would someone from wealth understand cruelty? They lived in their ivory towers away from the miseries that plagued everyone else. Maybe he wasn't so down to earth after all.

I know safe places for people in danger. Now his prying had become uncomfortable. He wasn't the friendly man he'd pretended to be.

I could imagine Anders would set this up so I would tell a kindly stranger the details of my private life, ending in me punished and as abused as Katya. My brother’s threat sprang to mind. Don’t help the enemy unless I want the same fate. She was an enemy to my people.

Armon leaned forward. Like I said, I fix things. I can help you.

Resentment and fear swelled inside me. I snapped, I'm not in danger. I took a deep breath to compose myself. Home was beginning to feel like the better option.

Whoever hurt you might be hurting someone else. It was as though Katya's suffering plagued my mind. But I would be penalized for helping her and saying anything at all hurt us both anyway. She was an enemy to everyone here.

Thank you for the coffee. I set the cup on the table and stood.

I'm looking for a student here. He glanced over his drink.

There's a student directory at main campus.

She's connected to someone named Mik. The handsome man's demeanor shifted to fit more true to assassin than friendly wealth. She knows something about someone.

There were only two possibilities; a trap by Anders and my brother or, less likely, this was Katya's brother. And by the way she'd spoken of her brother not showing mercy, I wouldn't survive—nor would my family.

I don't know what you're talking about. I rushed away, fumbling to get my purse strap untwisted and dug for my phone as I sped from the shop.

Darkness had already set, and I searched the shadowed walk as I held the phone to my ear and called my brother. After several prolonged rings, it went to voicemail.

I attempted another call along the way to my car. Once inside it, I nervously tried to get my keys in the ignition. I continued to stab and jiggle with shaky hands before they went in.

I turned them, but only a low buzz sounded. My car was reliable. It wasn't old enough to not start —

Knuckles tapped my window, startling me from fear to terror. I turned to look up to Armon, whose shadowed face held the threat of no mercy—just as Katya had warned. Now I could see the resemblance in their hardened expressions and strong brows and jawlines.

Chapter Three

If Armon waiting at my driver’s side door wasn't bad enough, the shiny, black SUV that pulled up beside him maximized the terror.

My door clicked unlocked. As rapidly as I could, I attempted to snap it in place and hold it. Somehow, they had the ability to access the automatic locking system, making them even more dangerous.

Armon, hands in pockets with nonchalance, walked around the front of my car to the other side. I leaned to the other door, forcing its lock to stay. It would provide some protection from him getting in.

The locks clicked again, and someone in all black stepped from the SUV. The sleek pistol he held had me return upright in my seat. A fight to escape would end in pain. My trembling hands raised to grip the steering wheel.

Armon opened the passenger door and pushed my purse aside before he lowered himself onto the seat. Who were you calling? His calm but commanding tone suggested a lie might end in my immediate death.

My brother. My lip quivered as he lifted my phone from the center console. The glow illuminated his deceptively handsome features as he tapped the screen.

I thought we had great chemistry. A silence fell as he scrolled through my phone, but I didn't give it more than a sideways glance to see what he snooped through. Whatever power and skill he had professionally gave him the ability to hack into systems. I finally understood Katya’s words.

Who are you? I asked, slowly turning to look at him. I shouldn't have fallen for the friendliness in the coffee shop. Good didn't exist in men.

Armon. He grinned, a flirtatious cock to his brow as though he wasn't about to hurt or kill me. He tossed the phone to the floorboard. I fix things. And soon, that will include your entire family.

My stomach twisted into a painful knot as the sickness sunk in. He would kill us all, and given his methods and abilities, he'd be as cruel as a mob boss about it. I thought my brother was bad enough.

Not you. He raised a hand to my cheek. My flinch of fear caused no response from him as he roved his thumb over my lip. Without you, we wouldn't have had a face to discover Katya's whereabouts. You even gave your brother's name on camera and the college you attend. What a fool I'd been for helping her.

I tilted my face from his reach. If his finger against my lip was uncomfortable, it didn't compare to when his knuckles trailed my neck and slowly slid down my shoulder and side to rest on my thigh. It had been a gentle touch meant to create panic, yet also so teasingly sensual.

All you had to do was prove you wanted to help my baby sister, but you called your brother to warn him. Fingertips dug into my thigh, turning the touch to threat. You would have been responsible for her death when they tried to cover their misdeeds.

If he'd told me about his intention from the beginning, I could have helped his sister. But for the least I knew at the time, he could have been posing to trick me. I thought—

No excuses, Sasha. He used the tone of a parent or teacher to a small child.

But had I known he wasn't someone sent by Anders or Mik, I could have said something. When I opened my mouth in retort, he shushed me with a finger.

I'm going to be nice since you led me to Katya.

A quivering breath escaped me with the relief of knowing I wouldn't suffer a gruesome death. And my family?

No, Sweet One, they don't get nice treatment. His hand trailed higher up my thigh toward the apex.

Are you going to make me fuck you before you let me go?

Did anyone let Katya go after they fucked her?

I squeezed the wheel, heart blaring in my ears at his answer. Would I be treated as she had been?

We should probably get on our way. I'll come around and open the door for you. He gave my leg an insincere pat of reassurance before he opened the door and got out.

I looked at the area around us. It may have been a dim parking lot, but someone would be in the vicinity. This would be my only chance. The other man who'd gotten out of the SUV was no longer in sight.

I threw my door open and got out to run across a large lawn back toward the main campus. I only made it a few steps before a force came at me from behind, landing my face hard against the earth.

The person who'd knocked me down flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists to the ground. You just keep making mistakes. Armon's legs