This is a work of fiction.

Any names, characters, places, events, and

incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously
and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

UNWILLINGLY YOURS copyright @ 2023 by Brook Wilder and Scholae

Palatina Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in
the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

Book 1 of the Korolev Bratva trilogy.

Cover by Angela Haddon Book Cover Design:

http://www.angelahaddon.com/

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 AUTHOR’S NOTE

This book uses Russian naming conventions. Formal greetings by Russian

characters will use a patronymic, which is composed of a first name and the
character’s father’s name.

Aleksey’s formal name is Aleksey Fyodorovich, which means Aleksey, son

of Fyodor. His sister Alyona’s formal name is Alyona Fyodorovna, which
means Ayona, daughter of Fyodor.

Russian names also use diminutive names to show closeness and affection
—such as parents to children, friends to friends, or loved ones to each other.
Alternatively, it can be used as an insult by someone who should otherwise
greet the person in a formal setting.

Aleksey’s diminutive name is Alyosha, and Alyona’s diminutive name is

Alya.

The Korolev Bratva series can be enjoyed alone on its own, but reading
experience is greatly enhanced if you’ve read the Suvorov Bratva trilogy
beforehand, as some characters and events are referenced. You can read
book 1 of the Suvorov Bratva – Dark Promise – today (free on KU):
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BG7BQJGR

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TABLE OF CONTENTS
UNWILLINGLY YOURS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
 Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Epilogue
OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER

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UNWILLINGLY YOURS
 Prologue
Elia

I felt sick standing in front of that great big door.

Growing up, whenever Father called, I’d always felt a massive knot twist
up in my stomach and yank terribly at my nerves. But back then, and every
time for years, I’d feel a warm hand take mine away from my lips and give
me a warm squeeze to spare my teeth from gnawing my fingernails down to
nubs. My big brother Luca would always give me a teasing grin and ruffle
my hair to annoy me. Back then I always thought he was just adding on
torture to the wait…

Now, I realized how much he was trying to keep me steady.

But Luca was dead. Gone. And now, I was alone to face whatever waited
for me in my father’s study.

I sucked in a breath as the doorknob twisted and swung open. Be strong,

Elia, Luca would say. I tried to imagine him standing beside me, smiling
and teasing. The Tarallos have always been made of stronger stuff. You just
have to find it.

Find it. Like it was something I could just dig for and discover, like some
hidden treasure on a map.

“Elia,” I heard my father, Ludovico, call, his voice pulling me over the
threshold.

I took my place in front of the massive mahogany desk and waited in

silence as my father turned from the large window and faced me with flat
eyes. The testament to our lineage was clear in the way his eyes stared at
me, vacant of emotion. It was the same look I had seen every morning in
the mirror after Luca died.

“I have great news,” my father said and motioned to the desk where a few
documents were laid out—I realized—to face me. I glanced at him before I
approached and peered down at the papers, frowning as I reviewed the
information. But none of it made sense to me.

A familiar yet hated face stared back from a photograph atop the papers. In
another life, I might’ve found him handsome. But now, all I could feel was
a curl of hatred and revulsion. It filled me so abruptly that I had to look
away.

“What is this?”

“Our ticket to peace,” my father said.

I blinked up at him, bewildered. He remained silent for a moment as he

pulled out the silver case of cigars he kept in his drawer. The smell wafted
toward me, and I bit down on my cheek to keep my face from wrinkling
with distaste, waiting for him to elaborate. He took a puff before pointing at
me with the cigar like it was a dagger.

“Aleksey Korolev,” he began. “Is finally leaving New York to take up his
position as the Pakhan of the Korolev Bratva.”

You mean the bastard who murdered Luca, or did you forget that? I kept my
venomous thoughts to myself, but I knew my father wasn’t blind to the
clear disdain on my face.

“And as you know, I have been thinking about your prospective marriage
for some time now,” he continued. “I’ve made my decision. One that
guarantees our family’s future.”

I swallowed tightly, the knot of anxiety in my gut squeezing and unwinding

all at once. It was some relief to confirm my deepest fears. But something
wasn’t right. I could tell from the way my father stared at me.

“Who?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

He sighed, as if my question was the most ridiculous suggestion he’d ever

heard. “You’ll be marrying Aleksey himself.”
My heart stopped in my chest, and I felt the blood drain from my face and
hands. A chill unlike any other stifled my chest. It was impossible to hold
back the expression of shock and horror on my face as I processed the
news.

“Preparations are already underway.” He ignored my reaction. “Once

Aleksey returns to Chicago after Fyodor’s funeral, we’ll be making the
announcement at a dinner with both organizations present. I expect you to
be cordial and prepared. And after—”

“Are you out of your mind?” The words fell from my mouth before I could
stop myself.

The shock on my father’s face told me that he didn’t expect this response.
Why would he? When did he ever expect anything less than absolute
obedience from me?

“Elia.” His voice dropped an octave in warning. A surge of panic twisted

my insides, and I moved to slap my hands to the top of his desk.

“Aleksey murdered Luca!” I searched his eyes to find a sign—any sign—

that showed even a hint of humanity. “Your son! Your only son! Butchered
him in cold blood and left his body to rot in the streets! He’s the reason
you’ve lost an heir, and if you think I’m going to just bow down and accept
this—”

“Enough!” Father rose to his full height. “You think I have forgotten?”

I shrank against his gaze. And for a moment, I was a child again, cowering
before him as he berated me.

“You are my daughter, and you answer to me,” he snarled. “Talk back like
this ever again, and I will not hesitate to beat you until you have respect
branded into your flesh. Am I clear?”
I recoiled from the black anger in his eyes and lowered my eyes, directing
all my desire for pain and violence at the spot of ashes below his cigar,
wishing I could spark them into fire and burn everything down.

“I asked a question.” Father’s voice boomed sharply.

“…Yes, Father,” I said, digging my fingers into my palms. The pain kept
me oddly grounded as the world spun around me.

“Good,” Father growled. “The terms have been accepted. You will depart
for Chicago tomorrow morning. Now go downstairs and pick out your
wedding dress. And don’t you even dare think about embarrassing the
family.”

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 Chapter One
Elia

“Another round over here!” My best friend, Lana Keller, waved down the
cute bartender from the other end of the bar. He slid two fresh drinks before
us, winking at Lana as she gave him an uncharacteristically coquettish
giggle in response.

I rolled my eyes, toying with my empty glass. The bar in Williamsburg was
hopping tonight, full of college students and anyone looking for a quick
hookup. It was also conveniently located near my apartment.

I needed to drink my sorrows away, and Lana was more than happy to
oblige.

“Just one?” I eyed the drinks.

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint!” Lana leaned against the bar, her hazel eyes
laughing at me. “There’s a lot of open water to cover.”

“Please don’t remind me,” I muttered as I played with a strand of my hair.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t imagined this day before. Every girl did. But
somehow, I hadn’t expected…this. I had dreamed of the moment when my
husband to me would propose, of the way my husband would look at me
with love in his eyes on the altar. I had thought that I’d at least be happy.
But instead, all I felt was an impending sense of doom.

At least I had the chance to pick my own dress, not that it meant anything.

I could wear a sack to my wedding for all I cared. I wasn’t going to have the
fairy tale ending of my dreams. I wasn’t going to fall in love with the
groom. Not after everything he had done to my family.

I still can’t believe Father agreed to this. I can’t believe he’d do this to me.
But deep down, I knew that this was exactly the kind of thing Ludovico
Tarallo would do to his only daughter.

I tilted my head in the direction of the bartender, who was busy serving up
drinks to a cooing crowd of girls. In another corner of the bar, two men
were staring at us as they whispered between themselves, their eyes hungry.
I shook my head, ignoring them, and turned my attention back to Lana
instead.

“Why don’t you just take Jake up on his offer?” I asked as I picked up my
drink. The bartender had readily introduced himself the moment we walked
in. I had seen Lana cutting her eyes at him more than once in the hours we
had been there.

“Because,” Lana replied. “I like the chase.”

Smiling, I shook my head. The alcohol had provided a comfortable amount

of numbness, enough to let me loosen up and enjoy time with my best
friend before my entire life was turned upside down. I didn’t know what
tomorrow would bring or what I was going to find when I finally met
Aleksey in person, so I settled on the next best thing: getting trashed in as
little time as possible.

“It’s this whole bullshit, Lana.” I slumped against the bar. “I’m marrying
the asshole who killed my brother…and I can’t do shit about it except bend
over and take it up the ass.”

I whimpered pathetically and groaned when I felt Lana’s hand rest on my

back, stroking me over my blouse soothingly.

“I know this probably means absolutely nothing to you,” she said. “And I
swear this is the alcohol talking, but…at least he’s hot?”

I stared at her accusingly. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“I am!” Lana held up her hand. “And I will always be on your side! But
come on, it could be worse. Much worse. He could be one of those dime-a-
dozen greasy fat fucks that Berkowitz is prosecuting these days.” She held
up a finger as I opened my mouth to argue. “Listen—no, seriously, listen—
the man belongs on a runway. If I knew he wasn’t going to be your
husband, I would have climbed him like a tree.”

“Isn’t it against the law to fraternize with the enemy?” I asked her.

She rolled her eyes. “If that were the case, you might as well lock up half
the NYPD right here and now.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m just
saying. Worse things are possible. And God knows I’ve seen my fair share
of worse things in these last couple of months.”

“Yeah, I know.” I nodded. Lana worked for the office of District Attorney
Berkowitz, who had spearheaded one of the largest crackdowns on
organized crime over the last few months after a scandal revealed that a
significant portion of the city’s police force had been under the payroll of
one of the biggest mob bosses on the East Coast.

The fact that my father didn’t get swept up in this whole thing was sheer
luck. A part of me always suspected that Lana had done whatever was in
her power to keep me out of the eyes of the law. But another part of me
suspected that the real reason was because my father knew better than to
reach higher than his station. Until now.

“Elia.” Lana placed her drink back on the bar, biting her lower lip. “Your
situation sucks, and I can’t imagine what it means to be married to the guy
who…” She paused, as if she was afraid of saying the words out loud.

“The guy who murdered my brother?” I finished the sentence for her.

“Yeah…” She nodded. “That.”

It’s not fair. I stared at my drink. It’s just not fair.

“I know it’s ridiculous to hope for anything as fantastical as love. Especially

in my case,” I said as I continued staring at my drink. “But to be…” I
sighed. “To be treated like a piece of meat and sold to the highest bidder.
All for my father’s benefit? It’s like nobody fucking cares about me.”

I grabbed my drink and drained it in a single gulp, just in time for Lana to
pass me another one.

“I care about you.” She took my hand gingerly. “Elia, you deserve the best
that the world has to offer, and I know you feel like you’re being forced into
something you don’t want.”

“He murdered my brother, Lana,” I said hotly. “And I’m supposed to look
him in the eyes, promise that I’m going to love him forever, and then spread
my legs for him? As if he isn't the source of my misery?”

Bitterness mixed with anger and hate. But above all was the relentless
feeling of sheer powerlessness. There had never been a moment in my life
that I hadn’t lived in dread of this day: when my father would hand me off
to my husband without my consent.

And now that it was here, it was worse than anything that I could have
imagined.

Without warning, Lana pulled me into a tight hug and I felt myself melting
into the embrace. She was literally the only person who cared about me.
Not my father, not my soon-to-be husband. Just her. And for a brief
moment, that was all that mattered.

“I don’t want to do this…” I whispered, tears welling up from my eyes.

“Please don’t let them do this to me.”

“I know, El.” Lana squeezed me tighter. “And if I had my way, you’d best
believe I’d put all of them behind bars.”

I pulled back and looked at her. “That’s a tempting offer.”

Lana picked up her drink, a smirk on her lips. “I mean, you hand me what I
need, and I could make it happen.”
“That’s just a dream, Lana,” I replied sadly.

If Berkowitz hadn’t found a way to grab my father during the crackdown,

then there was little chance he had enough evidence for anything. The same
was true for Aleksey. The man had haunted this city for ten years, snapping
at our family’s heels, and kept his hands clean in spite of the trail of bodies
he left behind. From the way Lana told it, the most amount of heat he ever
got was person of interest, or wanted for questioning. Never wanted.

“Doesn’t hurt to have dreams,” she replied, raised her hand, and gestured at
Jake the bartender for a pair of tequila shots, which came absurdly quickly
given how packed the bar was.

“No, it doesn’t.” I grabbed mine and threw it back. As the alcohol burned
down my throat, I winced and turned to Lana. “You’re coming with me,
right? I don’t want to face them all alone.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She smirked. “A chance for me to go

straight into the heart of the enemy? This is how careers are made. And if
you need anyone to steal you away, then I’m your girl.”

“Thanks, girl.” Glancing down at my watch, I groaned. “I need to go. It’s

going to be a shitty day tomorrow. And the flight leaves in a few hours.”

“Not much of a bachelorette party.” Lana drained her drink and placed it on
the bar, signaling for Jake again so she could pay our tab.

“Better than nothing, Lana.” I mustered a weak smile. “Thanks for coming.
And thanks for listening.”

“I could steal you away,” she said as she signed the check, included her
phone number with a fat tip, and pressed the check tightly against her lips,
leaving a crimson print behind. “Just say the word.”

“We’d get hunted down,” I replied. “If not by Aleksey, then by my father.”
We walked out together, sharing another hug before she shouldered her bag.
“Are you okay to go home?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine.” I gave her a small smile. “It’s not that far.”

“See you in Chicago, then.” She blew me a kiss.

I watched her walk away, feeling like I should say something. But no words
came out, and I turned in the direction of my own apartment. The final
hours of my freedom were ticking away, and it felt like a noose was
tightening around my neck. In just a few hours, I’d be touching down in
Chicago.

I shuddered in the still night air.

To meet the man who had destroyed my life.

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 Chapter Two
Elia

The streets were empty as I rounded a corner, my mind still racing at the
thought of going to Chicago in the morning to face my fate. It was late, and
the air was brisk. I welcomed the chill, letting it sober me up as I took in the
sights of these familiar streets, lamplight, and dwindling foot traffic. It
could be the last time I ever saw them again.

It’s just not fair.

“Hey, beautiful!” A voice startled me out of my thoughts, and I turned to

find two guys from the bar had followed me, both eyeing me with the same
hunger they had back inside.

I turned around, wobbling slightly as the alcohol buzzed around my brain.

“Excuse me?”

The taller one laughed, punching his other friend in the chest. “What do you
say? You want us to show you a good time tonight?”

I thought about the gun in my shoulder bag, wondering when I could get it
out. It was something that my father made me carry. Normally, my father
would have assigned a bodyguard to me, but I had given him the slip
tonight to spend my last free hours with Lana. And now, as these two men
came closer, I desperately wished he was here.

“Leave me alone,” I stated firmly. “And you will walk away alive.”

“Ooh,” the taller one replied, pretending to shake his hands nervously. “I’m
so fucking scared.”

I backed up quickly, sneaking a hand into my shoulder bag, searching for

my gun. “You should be.”

I had always been told to distract any would-be attacker for as long as I
could so I had enough time to grab a gun. But the alcohol dulled my senses,
and the world spun despite my best attempt at gathering myself. My fingers
gripped the gun inside my bag, but fumbled. Then I felt the wall at my
back.

Crap. I had forgotten to pay attention to my surroundings.

“No more tough talk?” the other guy asked, placing his hand above my
head and leaning in so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Look at the little mouse trapped in her little maze. Nowhere to go but
down on her knees.”

Fear started to claw at my throat as I realized what they were going to do to

me. I could fight as much as I could, but there were two of them and only
one of me. And just like that, going to Chicago in the morning became the
least of my concerns.

“Well,” a deep booming voice drawled from behind the two guys. “What do
we have here?”

My knees weakened as a man’s tall frame swam into view. He was dressed
in a dark, tailored suit, his thumb hooked around his pockets. But it was his
face that I focused on. The face that I only saw in my nightmares. The face
that I hated.

It was one thing to see that face on paper…it was another thing entirely to
see those same familiar features carved into flesh and bone atop an
imposing figure that I couldn’t deny was heart-stoppingly stunning.

Aleksey Korolev. My brother’s murderer. My husband to be. What the heck

was he doing here? I thought he was supposed to be in Chicago.

“We’re busy, asshole,” the taller one sneered, his attention on Aleksey now.
“Go find your own bitch.”

“That’s the problem,” Aleksey said as he removed his coat and draped it
over the low wall near him. “You’ve found mine. And I’m in no mood to
share.”
His clean, pressed shirt strained against his torso, barely concealing the
bands of muscle underneath. Lana was right. Aleksey Korolev did belong
on the runway. And if he looked that good with his clothes on, I couldn’t
even begin to imagine what he would look like naked.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I watched with bated breath as he rolled his sleeves to his elbows, revealing
the tattoos that spelled out his life story on his strong forearms. My breath
quickened at the sight as a tremor rushed through my body. He was
frighteningly handsome.

One of my assailants growled and charged at Aleksey, who easily dodged

the clumsy attempt and knocked the man headfirst to the ground with an
effortless push. The other yelled and landed a punch against Aleksey’s
waist. But the blow did nothing. It didn’t even warrant a grunt out of him.

My heart lodged in my throat as he grabbed the man’s arm and, in a single

practiced motion, snapped it in half with a vicious wet crunch. The man
shrieked in pain as he fell to the ground just in time for Aleksey to deliver a
vicious kick to his ribs.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he snarled. “Before I end your miserable lives.”

The men wisely scrambled away and I let out a slow breath as they did so,
too stunned by the sudden display of violence to move at all.

This man ruined my life. And now he just saved me. When he turned toward
me, I felt my stomach quiver.

“Are you alright?” he asked lightly as he picked up his coat and gave it a
quick shake to get rid of the dirt on it.

“I’m fine,” I forced out, pushing away from the wall. “They just surprised
me.”
“I didn’t expect the daughter of Ludovico Tarallo to be so easily surprised.”
He moved closer to me, so close that I could see the glittering of his hard
eyes, as if he was high off the violence he had just caused.

“You don’t scare me,” I blurted out.

His mouth lifted in a quick grin, and I forgot to breathe. I thought he looked
hot when he was dark and dangerous. But when he smiled? My knees
wobbled.

“I don’t need to scare you, Elia Ludovicovna,” he replied. “I just need you
to do what is asked of you when the time comes. That is all.”

“And you think I’m going to comply?” I stared back defiantly. “You think
I’m just going to roll over and do what you want?”

A new flash of energy burned in his eyes. He stared at me and then yanked
me to him. I bit my lip to keep myself from groaning when I felt him pull
me close against his chest. From this close, I could feel how strong he was.
The fact that I had seen him break another man’s arm so effortlessly was a
hard reminder of the incredible amount of violence he was capable of. He
could hurt me, I thought. And in that moment, with the way he towered
over and glared down at me, I knew more than ever that I was at his
complete mercy.

Yet, his hold—fingers large and warm—on my arm was firm without the
threat of bruising.

“You will,” he said, and there was a dark promise lingering there. His lips
curled into a smirk, and I swallowed thickly. “I’m counting on it.”

Is he going to kiss me…? I trembled in anticipation as he leaned closer. He

can’t. I won’t let him.

My eyes fell to his mouth, and my belly jumped hotly when I saw his
tongue swiping at his lip. His grip on my wrist tightened just a fraction. A
wave of magnetism unfurled and stretched between us, pushing and pulling
with the promise of something bigger…something more…

Something that my body hungered for.

Without warning, he relaxed his grip on me and I stumbled away in

surprise.

Aleksey moved back and straightened his coat, that feral smile on his lips.
“I’m going to look forward to our wedding night, Elia.”

I didn’t say anything in response, frantically brushing my hair behind my

ears as I pushed past him. I gritted my teeth and pointedly ignored the
insistent pulsing between my thighs and the fact that I’d never felt so wet
before in my life as in his presence.

I hated it. I hated him. I hated being rescued by him.

And now, more than ever, I wanted to defy him.

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 Chapter Three
Aleksey

I drained the glass of whiskey, the ice clinking in the glass as I placed it on
the ledge. There was a slight breeze in the air as night slowly gave way to
morning. This was my final night in New York, and I hadn’t expected to run
into my own prospective bride.

I had grown accustomed to the sights, the sounds, and—above all else—the
smells of this city, and my penthouse apartment gave me a great fucking
view of the skyline that had long since imprinted itself in my memory.

Once I returned to Chicago, everything would be different. It was no longer

a city that I knew or recognized. But duty demanded that I return. Duty, and
a bride that I never asked for.

“There you are.”

I didn’t bother to turn as my right-hand man, Boris, came to join me. His
hands clasped behind his back.

“I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come back,” Boris said.

Boris had been by my side in New York, fighting right alongside me in the
war that my father had instructed. He had taken a bullet for me in the past,
and I had taken a knife for him. Where most saw him as just another
brigadier, I saw him as a friend.

Hell, at this point, he was probably my only friend.

“And miss the inevitable shitshow in a few hours?” I took a sip from my
whiskey. “It’s not every day a man is disinvited to his own father’s funeral,
Borya.”

“I’m sorry, Alyosha.” Boris dipped his head.

“Don’t be,” I replied. “I have no desire to see Uncle Misha prancing about,
acting like this wasn’t everything he wanted.”

And there was the rub. Not only had I been informed of my father’s
untimely death by a fucking text message, but I had also been told that I
needn’t bother to show up for the funeral. That everything had been taken
care of, thanks to my uncle.

For forty-five years, Fyodor Korolev had ruled the Bratva with an iron fist.
For forty-five years, he had waxed polemic about the importance of family.
Yet that was the same man who had sent me—his only son—to New York
for ten years to carve my own bloody path. An exile in all but name.

Now he was dead, and by rights, I should be where he once sat as the
Pakhan of the Korolev Bratva. But somehow, my uncle Mikhail—or as he
liked to call himself, Uncle Misha—was the one giving orders instead.

Including the order that I marry Elia fucking Tarallo, of all people. The girl
whose brother I had killed. What the hell was my uncle thinking? Or was
this the secret work of my father that I was once again left in the dark
about? Just like this entire decade in New York?

“Have you heard about my wedding?” I finally asked. “To Elia Tarallo.”

“Who hasn’t?” Boris asked back.

“I ran into her tonight,” I said. “Coming out of a bar, where she was
accosted by a couple of guys looking to take advantage of her.”

“Never took you to be a white knight kind of guy.” Boris laughed. He was
the only one that could talk to me like that, well, other than my sister.
“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding?”

“Don’t fucking remind me, Borya.” I turned away as the sun began rising
above the skyline.
Still, his words made me think of Elia Tarallo and how she felt in my grip
earlier. She was petite yet curvy, and her body had caused mine to react in
ways I didn’t expect. In the moment that I held her close to me, all I thought
about were her soft, alluring lips. The way her long dark hair had fallen
over one shoulder in waves made me want to run my fingers through them.
Her dark eyes were like the ocean at dusk, hiding a torrent of surging power
underneath the surface.

I had nearly kissed her. I knew that, and she knew that.

It had taken all the effort in my body to pull away at the last moment.
Because something told me that if I had even a taste of her lips, if I felt the
hint of her tongue feathering against mine, then I would be powerless to
stop myself until both of us were breathless and gasping right then and
there.

She was a Tarallo. She was our enemy—my enemy. Yet I was ready to bury
myself in her, all consequences be damned.

“So.” Boris’s voice snapped me from my reverie. “What did you think of
her?”

She’s beautiful, far more beautiful than I imagined. And if I guessed

correctly, a fierce hellcat with razor-sharp claws.

“She’s alluring,” was all I said instead.

“Alluring,” Boris repeated with a bark of laughter. “Who are you? Pushkin?
That’s the best you can do? Try again, Alyosha. And be honest this time.”

“She’s fucking gorgeous, you animal,” I growled, handing him my whiskey

as I made my way to the bar for a new one. “Is that what you wanted to
hear?”

“Yes and no. Truth be told.” He accepted the drink and joined me at the bar.
“I want to hear what you think about this whole marriage. Because I don’t
like it, Alyosha. We spent ten years putting Tarallo men into the ground,
and you killed Ludovico’s only son. But now we’re supposed to kiss and
make up? Like all that bad blood is just going to go away?”

“My uncle hasn’t told me any details.” I placed the bottle back on the shelf.
“And I have no inclination to ask him.”

“How odd.” Boris swirled the whiskey, drained it in a single gulp, and
poured himself a new glass. “Your uncle now calls the shots and sits where
you ought to. Something smells rotten, and it’s not just the East River.”

“Exactly.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “I can’t figure out if this is another
one of my father’s cryptic orders, or if this is my uncle’s doing.”

None of this made any sense, and my father certainly wasn’t here to answer
any questions I had.

“I’m not going to like this marriage,” I said slowly, looking at my glass.
“There’s no love there.”

“Do you still even believe in love?” Boris asked. “After the lesson your
father taught you?”

I stared angrily at Boris, and he stopped talking. Our friendship might be

strong, but there were still lines. And right now, Boris was coming
dangerously close to crossing that line.

“Apologies, Aleksey Fyodorovich,” Boris said after a few moments,

switching to my patronymic out of respect. “It’s just that you look like
you’re headed to your execution instead of your wedding.”

My lips lifted in a grin as I closed my eyes, scoffing. “Is there a

difference?”

He shook his head, slapping me on the back. “Perhaps not. But if nothing
else, at least you won’t have to close your eyes and pretend she’s someone
better looking on your wedding night. Especially if your bride is, as you
say, fucking gorgeous.”
“That’s true,” I said evenly as I recalled the way her eyes shone when she
said she would refuse to comply with me. “If nothing else, she’ll be a fun
fuck.”

I looked away at the rising sun, but instead I saw the heat in Elia’s eyes
when she stared back at me in defiance just hours earlier. That look had sent
my cock stirring to attention, and I was surprised by the surge of lust
coursing through me. A fun fuck indeed. I was going to enjoy that particular
part of our marriage.

And nothing else.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four
Elia

Guests in tuxedos and cocktail dresses flitted back and forth at the event,
mingling in a comfortable buzz, courtesy of the open bar’s never-ending
stream of booze. A jazz band’s smooth notes hovered just enough over the
din of conversations. There was an air of calm as the guests chattered and
laughed. But as for me? My teeth were set on edge. Because everywhere I
turned was a cruel reminder of why I was even here.

This was my engagement party.

“I still can’t believe you brought me to this,” Lana said as we walked in.
“You know it’s only going to piss him off.”

I looked over at her and smirked. “I know, but that’s the point.”

I hadn’t told Lana about my unexpected meetup with Aleksey just a few
hours earlier, or the events that precipitated it. I figured I didn’t need to add
to her list of worries.

“If I’m going to do this.” Lana shook her head. “I’m going to have to get a
lot drunker than I am right now.”

“You and me both.” I flagged a waiter down and grabbed a pair of vodka
martinis. “Cheers.”

Instinctively, my eyes searched the crowd, looking for a sign—any sign—of

my brother’s murderer.

My fiancé.

That word still didn’t sit right with me. And I hated even thinking about
Aleksey Korolev like that. By all rights, I shouldn’t ever call him that. It felt
dirty. Almost forbidden.
And then, at what could only be the worst possible time, I spotted him,
drink in hand. Dressed in a navy suit with the collar of his dress shirt
flicked open to hint at the bands of muscle underneath. My eyes traveled
from his broad chest to his chiseled face, taking in the shadow of a beard on
his jaw and the slightly crooked nose that just seemed right on his face and
then, finally, his eyes.

Cold and emotionless, like sapphire chips of ice. They were different from
the fiery eyes that dared me to challenge him last night as he held me. And
even though I couldn’t mistake the shadows rimming his eyes, I couldn’t
deny just how goddamn handsome he looked in spite of it. He was exactly
the type of man other women drooled over: tall, dark, and dangerous.

And all I could see on his handsome face right now was a look of mild
disgust mixed with boredom. Almost as if he doesn’t want to be here
anymore than I do.

“Earth to Elia!”

Lana’s voice startled me and I, stunned and a little flushed, broke off from
staring at Aleksey.

“What?”

She raised an eyebrow at me, eyeing me with concern. “You alright? You
were breathing pretty hard just now.”

I didn’t say anything in response. Instead, I gave my head the slightest of

tilts toward Aleksey. Lana’s gaze followed, and a gasp rose up from her.

“Son of a…” she muttered. “That’s really him.”

“In the flesh,” I said. And about to be mine forever soon.

She locked arms with me, giving me a gentle squeeze. “I’m right here with
you all the way, you hear? You’ll get through this. I promise.”
I turned my gaze back to Aleksey just in time to catch him staring back at
me. Suddenly, my heart leaped to my throat, and I felt a wave of static rush
through me. It passed under my skin and through every nerve ending, every
fiber and corpuscle. In an instant, the blood in my veins heated up and
burned, having been ignited by a switch of tension that flipped so suddenly
that it left my head spinning.

All I wanted was to be elsewhere, but I was incapable of looking anywhere

else in that moment. Anywhere other than him. His tongue darted quickly to
wet his lips, and the urge to dig my fingers into something took over me.
And I knew that he felt the same, even if no word was exchanged between
us.

From across the room, he stepped closer. Each deliberate movement sent
another small jolt through my legs. I found myself matching him, step by
step, as if hypnotized. His eyes commanded, and my body obeyed. My
stomach flipped, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or something else…

Something dangerously carnal and hungry.

And in a second, he stood in front of me. An arrogant sneer hung from his
face as his gaze passed from my eyes down to the revealing vee in my
dress. I fought the urge to shrink back from his gaze and the urge to raise
my hands and cover myself.

Then his eyes turned from me and narrowed in anger at Lana.

“My, my,” Lana said, beating him to the punch. “And here I thought the
only place I’d get used to seeing your face was the New York courthouse,
Korolev.”

“You’ve got balls showing up here uninvited, Keller,” he replied coldly,

spitting her name and title like a curse. “Does Berkowitz know you’re
rubbing elbows with the likes of us when you’re off the clock?”

“I invited her,” I said curtly before Lana might retort with something that
pissed him off further. “And as long as she’s my guest, you will behave.
Korolev.”

“And if I don’t behave.” He cocked his head as the gray of his irises
hardened into stone. “What will you do, Tarallo?”

I hate you, I thought, fighting the anger tremoring through my body at his
challenge. I hate you. I hate you. I HATE YOU!

His hand rose up and caressed my cheek, sending another burst of heat deep
through my core. The ball of his thumb gently traced the line of my jutted
jaw, and a low chuckle rumbled from his expansive chest.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked. “Or have you realized how empty of a
threat that was? We’re in Chicago now, kitten. And here, we play by my
rules.”

It took every fiber of my being not to throw my drink in his face. But I had
to do something to break our contact before he could realize the kind of
effect he had on me. I stepped forward and, with feigned clumsiness, spilled
the full vodka martini directly on his perfectly pressed suit.

“Oops,” I said innocently.

He leaned in until he took up the entirety of my vision. And that was when I
felt something cold run down the bare skin in the deep vee of my dress. I
gasped involuntarily as the sensation ran down my body. He smirked, and
the smile never reached his eyes.

“Oops,” he mocked, each syllable slow and deliberate. “Looks like you’re
soaking wet.”

Ugh! The way those final words lingered on his lips…Somehow, he always
managed to find a way to push my buttons, to make me react to each
provocation, daring me to escalate so he could show me just how powerless
I was to him.

“Aleksey!”
Someone called from the other side of the room. The tug of gravity between
us dissipated the moment he looked away. He cast one final smoldering
gaze at me before he glared at Lana.

“If you have an ounce of respect, you’ll make yourself scarce, Keller.”

“Mhmm,” Lana said, lips pouting as she took a slow sip from her martini
while she stared at him with a look that could cut glass. “Can’t wait to see
your ass back in New York. And I think orange would look great on you.”

Aleksey’s lip curled, and for a moment I thought he might say something in
response. Instead, he remained silent, turned around, and marched away. I
looked down at my empty vodka martini and my soaked dress, wishing that
I hadn’t just done that.

“Can’t believe you have to marry that asshole,” Lana said as she handed me
a napkin.

“I thought you wanted to climb him like a tree?” I asked.

Lana took a deep pull of her drink. “Maybe some trees are best left
unclimbed.”

“Lucky me.”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” My father’s voice boomed over the room,

demanding attention.

The music and chatter faded abruptly as everyone turned, and my

amusement died when I saw him look at me, beckoning me to join him with
a single wave. Arranging my face into a smile, I made my way over as he
beamed at the crowd, dimly aware of the soaked front of my dress.

“Thank you all for joining us in celebrating the happy news everyone has
been waiting for,” Father said. “Tonight, we celebrate an end to a bloody
feud and a new beginning for our two families.”
A smattering of applause rose up, and I felt a measure of satisfaction that
Father’s speech hadn’t found the receptive audience he expected.

“No longer will Tarallos and Korolevs be at each other’s throats!” he

continued. “And this union could not be done if not for the devotion and
dedication of my precious Elia in accepting Aleksey Fyodorovich Korolev
as her husband. Please, let us all raise a glass in a toast to this happy
couple!”

Laying it on a bit thick there, aren’t we, Father? I was grateful for the
alcohol in my veins at that moment.

“And now, a few words from our gracious host and the uncle of the groom,”
Father continued. “Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for Mikhail
Yevgenievich Korolev!”

This time, the applause was thunderous. Mixed within it were whistles and
hoots from some of the rowdier men of the Korolev Bratva. I felt my own
lips curling up into a smile when I saw the mask of happiness slip for a split
second from my father’s face.

He might have sold me. But he had received nothing comparable in

exchange.

Aleksey’s uncle—a stout man whose hair was starting to thin—took the
stage and clasped my father’s hand. Decades ago, he might have been
handsome. But the years had not been kind to him. The smile on his face
reminded me of Aleksey. And just like Aleksey, the smile never reached his
eyes.

“Thank you, Don Tarallo.” He spoke slowly, drawing out every single
syllable as he did. “And what a ravishing beauty your daughter is. I cannot
imagine it was an easy task for you to agree to this marriage. Now, where is
my nephew? Alyosha? Alyosha! Idi suda!”
The crowd parted and Aleksey, with a scowl on his face, marched up to
greet his uncle. The two men stared at each other, and I could tell there was
no love lost between them.

“Now, as you all know,” Mikhail continued. “My brother has left us to go
see the big boss upstairs. And it was his final wish that our two families
could finally put aside this pointless bickering that has left so much bad
blood spilling into the ground.”

Rough warm fingers forced themselves into the crevice of my fingers as

Aleksey took his place next to mine. I clenched my jaw through my smile
and squeezed back, making no light effort to match the strength in his grip.

Yet even now, dark intrusive thoughts shivered through my skin, as if

someone had connected me to a live wire. The same gravity that existed
between us earlier returned with a vengeance, mocking my own resistance.
I forced myself to focus on Mikhail as he continued to talk.

“Which is why tonight is not just a single celebration.”

“What?” I heard Aleksey mutter. Clearly this was unexpected to him as

well.

“It is with great joy that I announce that Aleksey will not be the only one to
be married!” Mikhail boomed. “Dorogyie druzya. It is with great pleasure I
inform you that Raissa Antonovna, the wife of my late brother Fyodor, has
agreed to make me the happiest man in all of Chicago!”

Aleksey’s fingers tightened so hard at the announcement that I fought to

keep myself from crying out in pain. A well-dressed older woman joined
Mikhail on the stage while I clung to Aleksey’s hand for dear life.

“After my dear nephew and soon-to-be stepson is married tomorrow, Raissa

Antonovna and I will be married as well! Dorogyie druzya! A toast to
everlasting happiness!”
I squeezed back at Aleksey’s painful grip until I could feel his heart
thundering in my palm. I didn’t dare look at him, not here, where the farce
of our engagement was played for full attention. I could feel more than just
hatred coursing through his veins. I felt his pain. His hurt. His indignation
at it all.

It was enough for me to forget my own hatred for him.

It was enough for me to forget my own desire to hurt him.

But not enough to ignore the dark curiosity that was slowly winding
through my veins like a snake rearing its head. A dark curiosity that
yearned to find out what it’d be like for those same rough hands to drag
over every inch of my body.

To throw me down on his bed. To hold me down, rip my clothes away, and
make me scream.

The only question was: would I scream in pleasure, fear, or pain?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five
Aleksey

“Did you know this was going to happen?” I asked my sister Alya as I
poured another shot of vodka and threw it back. But no amount of alcohol
could soothe the anger lashing at my insides.

“Alyosha, please,” Alya replied as she tried to grab the bottle from my
hand. “Don’t you think I would’ve told you if I knew? This was the first
time I heard of it too.”

“Did anything seem unusual at the funeral? You were there, were you not?”

“I was, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You know how Mother is.
How close she and Uncle Misha always have been over the years.”

“And as it turns out, that closeness was more than just familial affection.” I
wrenched the bottle back. “Chyort vozmi. How could we have been so
blind? That bastard! Was Father’s body even in the ground before our uncle
started pawing at Mother? Just what the hell is he playing at?”

Alya crossed her arms, her face scrunched up in the familiar scowl so
characteristic of our family. “I don’t know, Alyosha, and I don’t want to
know. Can’t you stop worrying about Uncle Misha or Mother or the Bratva?
Just for one night?”

“We shouldn’t be surprised.” I ignored her plea. “Mother never liked to

spend much time with Father, even while he was alive. Why the fuck would
she care about him now that he’s in the ground?”

“Alyosha!” Alya reached for Father’s voice and found it. “It’s bad enough
that I haven’t seen you for years. But to have you come here, drunk, while
you’re supposed to be preparing for your wedding tomorrow morning…”

I looked back at her in silence before I gave her a curt nod of

acknowledgment.
“Apologies, Alyona Fyodorovna,” I said, even adding a little bow to sate
her demand for respect.

She rolled her eyes at the unnecessary formality and simply held out her
hand for the bottle. As soon as her fingers wrapped around the neck, she
took a swig with frightening familiarity.

“What?” she asked when she saw me stare. “Father sent me to college, not
to a nunnery.”

I laughed. Oh, I had missed my baby sister. People underestimated Alya

most of the time because they thought of her as simply the daughter of a
Pakhan—a spoiled princess who whimpered and cried to get her way. What
they didn’t know was that I had taught her to be ruthless, just like me.

Father told me that I was wasting my time teaching her skills that did
nothing to elevate her value for a prospective match, but I didn’t care. I
wanted her to be able to handle herself. Because I knew what kind of world
we lived in. I bought her a gun before she was even old enough to drive,
and I made damn sure that she knew how to use it if the time came.

And now, she was the only person that mattered to me. And tomorrow, that
would all change.

“It’s just,” I said. “The last time I saw you, you were still a snot-faced little
brat.”

“And the last time I saw you.” She passed the bottle back to me. “You still
knew how to smile.”

A ghost whispered at the back of my head. “Let’s fly away together, Aleks.
Just you and me.” And my nostrils filled with the unforgettable scent of
blood.

I clamped my jaw down tight and remained silent to my sister’s retort. Let
the past die, Aleksey, I reminded myself. There was nothing I could have
done about that. Then or now.
God, how many years had it been since that night? And for all those years,
I’d held my silence. The only other member of my family who knew that
terrible secret was now feeding worms six feet under the ground.

Him and Boris, I thought bitterly. Boris had been there for me that night.
The two of us had drunk ourselves to the gates of death but never crossed it.
And since that day, we had never spoken of it or her. But on those rare dark
nights when vodka and whiskey and other liquors mixed in my stomach,
that same plea haunted me. “Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and
me.”

“Alyosha?” My sister’s voice brought me out of my memories. “What’s

wrong?”

“Nothing,” I muttered. “Just trying to wrap my head around this farce.”

“Your bride-to-be is very pretty,” she finally said. “And she has fight in
her.”

“And how could you know that? You didn’t even get a chance to speak with
her.”

Alya took another swig from the bottle. “I saw the way she held your hand.
I couldn’t tell who was trying harder to crush the other’s fingers.”

That much was true. When I’d first slipped my hand into Elia’s, I had held
her tightly—more tightly than either of us expected. And just like our first
encounter, I felt something else stirring at me at the touch. A carnal hunger
that demanded more than these passing touches.

But this marriage would be impossible. It was like Boris said: too much bad
blood.

“She hates me, Alya,” I finally said.

“Why? What could you have possibly done to earn her hate?”
I looked at her. And it was only then that I remembered that in spite of all
my attempts to mold Alya into a mirror version of myself, she had always
been kept far away from the daily ins and outs of the Bratva. She knew
nothing about our decade-long war against the Tarallo Mafia. As far as Alya
was concerned, Elia Tarallo simply hated me because I was not the man she
wanted to marry.

It was time to tell her the truth.

“Because I killed her brother,” I said flatly.

Alya’s expression hardened for a moment before she spoke. “And she
agreed to this marriage? Why?”

“Because it’s the same fate that you would’ve been resigned to,” I replied.
“Had Father lived long enough to sell you to a man of his choice.”

Now it was her turn to be silent. For as long as she lived, my sister knew
what her fate would be. It was the curse of being born a girl. Their only
purpose was to secure an alliance, to keep the peace, and if necessary, be
the sweeteners to a deal.

Alya was lucky. Elia? Not so much.

“Blyat,” Alya finally swore, lifting a hand to pinch her nose. “Promise me,
brother. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“It goes without saying, Alya,” I said and pressed a hand to her shoulder.

“No, it needs to be said.” She flashed me a stern glare. “I don’t know if you
believed what Uncle Misha said about an end to the feud, but if what you
say is true, then you know as well as I do this marriage won’t be the end of
it. I know that if I were sold to the man who murdered you, I would not rest
until a knife was buried in his back.”

“I’m aware of that, Alya.”

“I already watched Father be lowered into the ground,” she said. “I don’t
want to see that happen to you too.”

“Alya,” I started, but she lifted a hand to stop me. The fierce curl of iron in
her eyes kept me from wanting to tease her.

“Promise me, Alyosha!”

“All right, malyshka.” I sighed and gave her shoulder another soft squeeze.
“I promise not to let my guard down.”

“You better not.” Her eyes flashed angrily. She threw her arms around me
and hugged me tightly. “I can’t lose you, Alyosha. You know that.”

I hugged her back. “I’m not going anywhere, malyshka.”

Alya released me and left shortly after, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

She was right though. If Elia Tarallo was anything like my own baby sister,
then nothing would bring her greater pleasure than to bury a knife in my
back.

There must be some sort of plan in the works. And I needed to figure that
out before it had a chance to cost me my life. That, and I needed to ensure
that my uncle wouldn’t just steal what was rightfully mine. Father and I had
our differences. That much was true. But his position, his legacy, and his
title of Pakhan belonged to me. He would never have wanted Uncle Misha
to take over.

Of that, I was one-hundred-percent certain.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six
Elia

“I can’t do this,” I muttered as the manicurist fussed over my nails while the
hairdresser was busy applying seemingly every hair product in the universe
to tame my hair into the perfect shape that would please my future husband.
I was thankful that at least the makeup had already been done, so I could
finally speak. The engagement ring that had been forced onto my finger last
night at the conclusion of the announcement party felt like an anchor
dragging me down to the depths of my own despair.

“What was that?” Lana asked in the chair next to me. She was the only
person in my half of the bridal party that I actually knew. The other
bridesmaids stayed silent the entire time, and part of them suspected that
they were here to keep tabs on me in case I tried to back out.

I didn’t think I could feel more dread if I was headed to my own execution.

What’s the difference? I thought bitterly. The engagement party had been a
shitshow of the highest order. Everything from the surprise second marriage
announcement made by Aleksey’s uncle to the way the two of us tried to
crush each other’s fingers.

And how he made me feel…a shameful voice purred at the back of my head.
I closed my eyes.

Ever since that night outside the bar, Aleksey Korolev had been haunting
my dreams. I hated it. It wasn’t his display of violence that rattled me. It
was the way he teased me into wanting to kiss him, the words he had
spoken to me and then just walked away, that bothered me.

When his fingers found mine…My body had reacted like I would always be
at his beck and call.

The very thought of Aleksey sent another shameful warmth surging

between my legs. I was torn between nightmares and dreams when I
recalled his brutal gaze and steely grip. I hated this duality…I couldn’t
stand knowing that a part of me wanted to find out what it’d be like to let
him use me.

To let him carve valleys of pleasure between my thighs and leave me

aching.

I wanted him to think about what he had done to my brother. I wanted him
to know that I wasn’t just going to marry him because my father said so.
That he would have to come clear across the world to find me again. I
wanted to disappear so that both he and my father would lose this round.

Because I was tired of them winning.

“All right, you need to tell me what happened.”

I opened my eyes and blinked. “Huh?”

I hadn’t even realized that the two of us were alone. The other bridesmaids
were gone. The manicurist was gone. And even the hairdresser was gone.
When did this happen? Lana looked at me expectantly, her eyes searching
mine for an answer.

“Elia,” Lana said. “You’re my best friend, and I know when something is
bothering you. Now, I get that you don’t want to marry Aleksey for very
obvious reasons. But this…something else is going on. What are you not
telling me?”

I leaned back against my chair. She was right. I couldn’t keep hiding things
anymore. Not from her.

With a shuddering breath, I admitted, “I saw Aleksey.”

“Yeah, I was there.”

“No, Lana,” I said. “In New York. Before the engagement party.”
“You what?” Lana narrowed her eyes, expression pinched with controlled
anger. “What happened? Did he threaten you?”

“No.” I swallowed back the memory of how he had held my hand, how he
had stared down at me with an energy that tempted me to reach back and do
something stupid…like letting him kiss me. Or worse.

“Well?” Lana’s stare demanded an answer. “I’m waiting.”

“He saw me on the street on my way back home,” I explained.

A muscle twitched in Lana’s jaw, but she said nothing else, letting me
continue.

“Anyway, he saw me and sort of cornered me. We talked about the

wedding…and basically about me saying I do, even if I didn’t want to.”

“That sounds like a threat to me, Elia,” Lana said, the upset clear on her
face. I knew why she was upset. I’d held back information from her. And in
her world, that meant I didn’t trust her.

And I was about to do it again, because there was no way in hell that I was
about to let her know about the two guys from the bar who had cornered me
first. I didn’t need her flying off the handle any more than she already was
right now.

“But that’s the thing,” I said. “I should’ve felt threatened…but I didn’t.

Something in me was excited when he grabbed me. I…I wanted him. I
wanted him to kiss me. To push me against the wall and…”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, not willing to finish the sentence. “And
when he took my hand at the engagement party last night, I felt it again.
How sick is that, Lana? I shouldn’t want to fuck the man who killed my
brother. I shouldn’t want him at all. Period.”

“Elia…” Lana took my hand. Her eyes found mine, and then she said the
six words that I wanted so desperately to hear. “What do you want to do?”
The way her eyes shone told me that she knew exactly what I wanted to do.
That she was just waiting for me to say the words and make them real.

What do I want to do? I asked myself. A part of me knew that there was
nothing that I could do. Aleksey would never allow me to escape him, and
my father…I almost scoffed. Father would tie me up and hand me back to
Aleksey on a silver platter if it meant getting what he wanted.

But this wasn’t about them. This wasn’t about what they wanted. Right now,
it was just me, Lana, and a single daring idea that hovered on the edge of
my tongue.

My lower lip trembled as Lana’s grip on my hand tightened just enough to

give me the courage to say what I wanted—truly wanted.

“I want to run away,” I admitted.

Lana’s gaze bored into mine, and for a terrifying moment, I thought she
would say no. I imagined her telling me that this was the fate that I was
consigned to and that it would do me no good to dream the impossible.

But then, a smirk broke out on her face, and she gave my hand a tiny shake
of assurance.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seven
Aleksey

What the fuck is taking her so long?

I glanced back at the large grandfather clock on the adjacent wall. Row
upon row of wedding guests sat before me in anticipation. The large
wedding hall had been spruced and stuffed with flowers of every shape and
variety in seemingly endless arrangements. The harpist, who was busy
playing Pachelbel’s Canon in C, glanced at me when I turned. She quickly
averted her gaze and continued playing when I rolled my finger at her.

It had been fifteen minutes since the ceremony started, and there was no
sign of Elia anywhere. In the first five minutes, I jokingly thought that
maybe she was throwing a tantrum somewhere and that I needed to drag her
to the altar.

Five minutes after that, the joke felt less funny and more real, which
annoyed me to no end.

And now?

Now I was beginning to suspect something else. I threw a glance over at

Boris, who simply nodded and quietly disappeared to find out where the
hell my fiancée had disappeared to.

I did my share of stakeouts and gave the occasional Tarallo foot soldier a
good ass kicking every now and then. But this was different. Keeping
appointments wasn’t just good faith; it was a direct show of power. To be
left waiting was an insult, a sign that whoever was made to wait deserved
no respect.

For every minute that she wasn’t here, Elia might as well have spat on my
face. At least that would have been easier for me to accept.

When the long hand inched past the curling number four on the clock, a
sudden movement at the back of the hall caught my eye. Fucking finally!
I was inches from tearing down the aisle to seize that damn woman and
drag her back here myself when Boris reappeared with one of the
bridesmaids hurrying behind him. The poor girl was someone Uncle Misha
had arranged to play the convincing part.

The presence of Lana Keller was already problematic enough. There was no
way in hell Uncle Misha would allow any Tarallo associates—male or
female—anywhere near this wedding.

As the two walked down the opposite side of the guest rows, murmurs of
confusion picked up volume. I leaned in as Boris neared, and my eyes
glanced suspiciously at the bridesmaid as she stopped beside him.

“Elia Tarallo is gone,” Boris whispered into my ear.

My fingers flinched before curling slowly into fists. I glanced back at the
bridesmaid, and she visibly shrank at my gaze.

“Where?” My voice was cold, and the bridesmaid’s breath quickened.

“I overheard her t-talking to her maid of honor. Something about…New

York? Please. I don’t know anything else. That’s just what I heard.”

So, it’s going to be like that, I thought savagely.

I nodded calmly and turned to face the crowd.

“If I can have everyone’s attention!”

The crowd hushed as I motioned to Boris to fetch the car. He was already
walking out when I dismissed the bridesmaid.

“I’m afraid the wedding will be postponed for just a little while. I apologize
for the inconvenience and encourage everyone to get started on lunch. I will
return shortly with my lovely wife-to-be.”
I followed after Boris as soon as I finished speaking, ignoring the
scandalous whispers that took flight in hushed conversation. I kept myself
cool and controlled. Boris flashed me a look, but I said nothing as I met him
at the car. The engine had already roared to life and was ready to go. Boris
tossed me the key, and I caught it easily in the air as we both swung into our
seats.

I kicked the car into high gear and the tires shrieked as we reversed, then
tore into the street. Rage kept me silent as I took the side roads, ignoring the
GPS suggestions for the fastest arrival to O’Hare International Airport.

You can run, Elia Tarallo. I gripped the wheel. But once I get my hands on
you, I’m going to make you beg.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight
Elia

I was staring out the rear-view mirror when I felt a sudden slap on my wrist,
forcibly yanking my fingers from my mouth. I glanced down in surprise and
found Lana giving me a quick glare before returning her eyes to the road.

“Stop biting those nails,” she said. I curled my fingers over my lap and
settled in my seat. “You have any idea how hard the poor manicurist
worked?”

“I can’t help it,” I said. Before Lana could scold me, I groaned and leaned
forward, trying to peek at the adjacent street’s traffic light to see if it would
turn yellow any time soon.

Lana shook her head. “Your father is going to kill you, assuming we don’t
get killed before we arrive.”

“I don’t care,” I answered, clenching my hands together as Lana drove

down the freeway toward O’Hare.

Aleksey and his goons might try and come after me, but if I could get on
that plane, it was going to make it a hell of a lot harder for them to find me.

Lana sighed. “This is crazy, Elia. Not that I don’t blame you. I just wish we
had more time to come up with a better plan than just running and not
looking back.”

“Look, you’re the one who asked me what I wanted,” I told her, my heart
racing. “And for better or worse, you’re coming along with me.”

My only regret was that I couldn’t see my father’s reaction when he realized
I wasn’t doing his bidding. Or Aleksey’s.

“How much farther are we from the airport?” I asked.

Lana didn’t answer, shaking her head before clicking her tongue on her
teeth.

“Lana!”

“I don’t know, Elia. I can’t control the traffic.”

I groaned again and pinched my nose. I looked ridiculous right now—in full
wedding makeup and hair, but wearing a wifebeater and pink booty shorts.
It was the only thing I could find in the back of Lana’s car.

But I knew if I had to wear that wedding dress for another second longer, I
was going to lose it. I rubbed my fingers over my palms, glad to be free of
the engagement ring after I had thrown it in the back, where the wedding
dress was haphazardly tossed.

“Maybe I could make some calls,” Lana continued as she switched lanes,
passing traffic. “The DA’s office in New York might be able to protect you.
But it’s not going to be easy to get witness protection up and running on
such short notice. And your case has multiple layers of complexity attached
to it too.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You have already done enough for me, Lana. This
is my choice. I’ll find a way to make it work, trust me.”

“Listen,” she replied. “The only thing I trust right now is that you’re about
to land us in a world of shit. The one thing we need right now is time.
You’d have to testify to the New York marshal’s office that you have reason
to seek protection…”

I peered in the rear-view mirror as Lana’s explanation droned on, my

stomach sinking with a wave of unease. A car behind us swerved into
another lane, and my eyes landed on a sleek black car driving not far behind
us.

I glanced back at the traffic ahead of us. It was almost noon, and the
highway had long drained from its rush-hour flow. Something about the
way that car was moving—aggressive and deliberate—began setting off
alarms in my head.

“Lana…” I started. But she must not have heard because she continued to
talk.

“… might be days before I can even find a judge to expedite the approval
for a witness protection notice. I mean, they are just swamped right now
with all the arrests that have been coming down the pipeline…”

“Lana,” I repeated, urgency creeping into my voice.

“… and that’s not even taking into account that Aleksey is going to be
actively looking for you. I mean, we’re talking weeks at the earliest.”

My hand flew to my side, searching for the familiar weight of the gun in my
purse. Panic seized my throat, and my heart sank when I realized that I
hadn’t brought it with me.

“LANA!” I shouted.

“What?” she asked back.

“Is there a gun in this car?”

“Yeah, in the glove compartment,” she replied. “…Why?”

I opened up the glove compartment and took out a pistol. I checked to see if
it was fully loaded. It wasn’t.

“You don’t keep this thing loaded?” I asked incredulously.

“You know I’m not even supposed to legally have that, right? I’m not a
cop,” she replied. “There should be a magazine in a bag under your seat.”

“Why don’t you keep them in the same spot?”

“It’s the law, Elia!” Lana’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Do you
know how much trouble I’d be in if I got caught with a gun and ammo in
the same spot?”

“Well,” I sighed as I fumbled around under my seat for the bag. “Don’t
panic, but I’m pretty sure we’re being followed.”

“What?” Lana looked in the mirror quickly. “What do you need me to do?”

I looked back at the car that was following us, but it had disappeared. Oh
no. “Just keep driving.” I fought to keep my voice steady even as my heart
pounded. Suddenly, a black blur came into view, and my blood ran cold
when I recognized the car that had followed us and the man in the driver’s
seat.

It was my husband-to-be. His dark eyes were cold and blank, like that of a
shark.

He slapped a paper against his window. PULL OVER. NOW.

I shook my head in horror and turned to Lana. “GO!”

In a panic, Lana stepped on the gas and we sped further ahead. I doubled
back down, trying and failing to keep my hands from trembling as I finally
found the bag and pulled out a single magazine. Quickly, I slammed it into
the gun and racked the slide.

When the first bump to the back of the car came, I felt the seat belt catch.
Lana somehow kept the car between the lines and in one lane.

“Elia,” she warned, not letting go of the gas pedal. “Whatever you’re about
to do, do it faster!”

I raised the gun, only for Aleksey to slam into us one more time, harder
than the last. Lana cried out as she tried to steer into a curve. I took aim and
squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened.

Looking down at the gun, I realized that I’d forgotten to disengage the
safety. Aleksey slammed into us one final time. Lana screamed and
overcorrected, sending us careening into the guardrail.

At the last minute, she grabbed the wheel and my side took the brunt of the
impact, the screech of metal grating loudly in my ears as she brought the car
to a stop.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her face pale.

“I’m fine,” I said, tugging on my seat belt until it came loose. “We have to
get out of here.”

Before Lana could react, her door was pulled open. A bulky figure reached
in, undoing her seat belt in a practiced motion, and dragged her out of her
seat.

I was scrambling across the seat when something hard gripped my hair and
yanked. I shrieked in pain, struggling against my captor. The seat belt was
yanked off me without effort, and I found myself hoisted up in the air as I
kicked and screamed.

When my feet found the pavement, I leveled the gun at the man shielding
himself with Lana. His face betrayed no emotion, daring me to pull the
trigger and shoot. That was when I saw his gun pressed against my friend’s
head.

“I’d drop that if I were you, Elia,” Aleksey said in a deadly calm voice
behind me. “Or we’ll see who has a faster trigger finger.”

I couldn’t let my friend die. I lowered the gun, not even attempting to fight
as he snatched it away from me and threw it over the guardrail into the
brush on the other side.

My back slammed against the car and I heaved out a sharp wheeze, winded.
Aleksey towered over me, dressed in a tux but with the bowtie hanging in
two narrow strips around his throat. His hair was stuck up like he’d run his
hands through it multiple times. What made things worse wasn’t how
disheveled he looked but the violently cold look he leveled at me, like I was
no better than the scum beneath his shoe.

“Get off me! Get off me!!” Lana screamed behind me. “Don’t you fucking
hurt her!”

“Lana!” I tried to rush out to reach her, but Aleksey slammed his arms to
my side, trapping me before him. Anger and adrenaline pumped through
me, and I desperately wished that I hadn’t obeyed his command.

“Fuck you!” I screamed in frustration before I felt rough fingers cover my

mouth and shove me against the car.

He gripped my chin and forced me to look up at him. I whined against the

force of his hand on my throat.

“I have to admit, Tarallo, you almost got away with it,” he said. The
casualness of his words, like it was nothing but another day to him,
frightened me. Was this what he looked like before he killed Luca? Was I
about to meet the same fate?

I became dimly aware of how close we were. I couldn’t even kick at him if
I wanted to.

“Not many people have managed to go as far as you have in pissing me

off,” he snarled. “What did you think was going to happen? Did you think I
would just let you disappear?”

I tried to push him away, but another firm shake of his hand kept me pliant.
Tears of pain and frustration burned down my cheeks. I was powerless in
front of him, and I hated it.
“I will let you off with a simple warning, Elia,” Aleksey said, his dark eyes
hard like a knife eager to bite into me. “Out of respect for the contract that
both our families have signed. But you will apologize to me. Properly.”

“Fuck you.” I spat the words out into his hand. I did my best to meet his
gaze with a glare of my own. Angry and defiant.

“Let’s try again.” He motioned, and I heard Lana scream. My stomach

tightened with fear as I imagined what that other brute might be doing to
her. “Apologize to me properly. We will go back, get through this farce of a
wedding. And if you behave for the rest of the day, then maybe. Just maybe,
I might entertain the possibility of being gentle tonight.”

I refused to comply and continued to glare at him. Lana screamed again,

and I clenched my eyes shut. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much I could
die.

“Look at me, Elia,” he ordered, and I obeyed. “If you don’t apologize, then
I will have to take out my anger on our mutual friend from the DA. And I
really want to, Elia. So if you have even a shred of respect for your friend’s
life, then you will give me the apology I demand.”

I realized that there was no other choice. I nodded, and he let go of my

mouth. I took a shuddering breath and forced out the words. “I’m sorry.”

He huffed in dark amusement, and it took me a second before I saw that his
free hand was working on unclasping his belt.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I said a proper apology, Tarallo.” His lips curled into a dark sneer as his
hand moved to unzip his pants.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine
Elia

I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. Dark curiosity drew me to look. I

couldn’t peel my gaze away from the thickness of his cock as it sprang—
angry and throbbing—from his pants. It speared up into the air menacingly,
and I gulped at its massiveness.

Against my will, I felt a hot curl of want ignite in my core, spreading its
heat down between my legs in wet betrayal. Here he stood, my nightmare
and fantasy in stark reality. Images of him presenting himself to me only for
me to eagerly—greedily—open my mouth and stick out my tongue for him
flashed through my mind, taunting me with dark promise.

My own desires mocked my own heart for wanting to hate him.

“Now, Elia,” Aleksey hissed. “Or else.”

The low insistence in his chest compelled me to obey his command. I

drifted my eyes up the line of his chest to meet his gaze. This much I could
still control. Glaring as hatefully as I could, I lowered myself to my knees.

Gravel bit into my flesh as I braced my hands against his hips. I didn’t want
to prolong this. We were out in public. In the middle of a highway, for
God’s sake! Anyone could see me. Could see us! That should’ve repulsed
me further, but the knowledge only sent another hateful zing of arousal
pulsing between my thighs, and I felt a warm drop peek out from between
my folds and roll slowly down my legs.

“Open that pretty mouth of yours, Elia.” His voice buzzed in my ear. “I’m
waiting.”

Reaching out, I gripped his cock lightly, marveling at the feel of it as I

trailed my fingers over the soft skin. I swore I heard Aleksey hiss, but I
didn’t dare look up to confirm. This wasn’t the first cock I had seen. Once
upon a time, I had been ready to give up my virginity to a guy I loved until
my father got in the way.
But this…this was different. A mixture of emotions ran through my body,
each one conflicting with the other. The only thing I could focus on was my
actions as I knelt on the highway and rubbed my thumb over the engorged
head. A pearly bead of precum decorated the tip. Was he reacting to me or
the fact that I was kneeling before him?

“Enough,” he growled, his hand coming to rest on the back of my neck,

pushing me toward him.

Despite the embarrassment of what was happening, I found myself eager,

opening my mouth wide enough to take him fully in. For a second, I
wondered what would happen if I were to bite down, but the steady
pressure at the nape of my neck reminded me that I was in no position to do
so.

His salty musk filled my mouth, and I heard an appreciative groan escape
his lips above me. For a split second, he was completely at my mercy.
Under my control. I might’ve been furious and ashamed at what he was
making me do, but this new realization sent an unexpected feeling surging
through my body.

Power.

I took him past my lips and began to swirl my tongue around his head as I
looked up to meet his gaze. Aleksey’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, and
he watched me with a smirk as I let my jaw go slack so that I might sink
further down his thick length.

The intensity of his eyes was almost too much, and I quickly lowered my
eyes, closing them to focus on the task at hand. My head bobbed up and
down, and spit dribbled down my chin. A pulse of hungry pleasure punched
a mocking song between my legs, demanding that I let him do more.

To my relief, it wouldn’t take much longer for my ordeal to end. I groaned

when I felt Aleksey’s hand grip my hair. Without warning, he began
thrusting his hips forward. Controlled breath burst from behind his lips
above me as he used my mouth to inch himself closer. I tried not to gag,
tried to take it dutifully even as the thick head punched against the back of
my throat. Tears ran unbidden down my face.

His cock seemed to grow harder in my mouth, and without warning, it

pulsed against my tongue. A low growl rose from his chest as the first shot
of semen, hot and salty, splashed into my mouth. He pulled me closer to
him, forcing me to swallow it down to keep myself from choking. But he
came faster than I could swallow, and I coughed, feeling the warm sticky
liquid spilling from my chin to splash on my chest.

Just as he finished, I contemplated letting my jaw slam shut so that I might

hear him scream like he had made my best friend scream. His fingers
moved to the nape of my neck again, holding me in place as he emptied
himself, almost as if he sensed what I wanted to do.

“Now that’s a proper apology,” he said, his voice tinted with sadism.

I carefully slid him out of my mouth, feeling his cock touch my lips before
he stepped back. Staring up at him, I did what I could to spit out the rest of
his cum. But his hand on my hair suddenly tugged again, and I cried out as
he lifted me to my feet.

I was thrown into the back seat of his car, where Lana hurried to gather me
into her arms in a hug. I clung to her as both doors slammed shut.

Aleksey and Boris both got into the front. I looked at Lana, searching her
for signs of abuse. She looked fine. Rattled, but otherwise untouched. In the
distance, the flashing lights of a police car were approaching. But by then
we were already pulling away and merging seamlessly back into traffic.

I saw my wedding dress on the other side where Lana sat, and neither of us
said anything. My mouth, throat, and neck were sore. This was the price of
defiance, I thought, not even bothering to wipe off the bit of cum I could
still feel on my chin as Aleksey drove me back to the church.

This is going to be the rest of my life. And it’ll start in full tonight.
A part of me trembled at the thought. But a twisted part of me was already
cackling in anticipation.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten
Aleksey

We reached the church in record time, and I didn’t let Elia out of my sight
until she was safely brought back to the room where she had been getting
ready earlier. I tossed the dress at her unceremoniously.

“Get dressed,” I said.

She held the expensive lace fabric in her hand and stared at me, expecting
me to leave. But I remained rooted to the spot. Why would I? She had
already run away once. There was no way in hell that I’d risk her doing it
again.

“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding,” she said softly.

Was she trying to elicit some sympathy in me? The Elia before me was a
contradiction. Her hair had been mussed up from earlier, but her makeup
was otherwise unruined. The nails that the manicurist had worked so hard
on looked like they’d been chewed to the stump. But there was unparalleled
beauty here.

Even if she was wearing a wifebeater and those ridiculous pink shorts. Her
nipples poked through the front of the thin fabric, and I felt my cock
stiffening at the thought of them. Her apology on the highway had left me
almost weak in the knees. I was acutely aware of the effect she had on me,
and it had taken all my effort not to push her against the car and take what
was rightfully mine.

I thought about what I told Boris when I first informed him of my

upcoming wedding. A fine fuck indeed.

Slowly, she reached down and lifted the shirt over her head. My pulse
quickened as I saw her exposed body. For a moment, I thought she would
raise up her hand to cover her shame. But she did no such thing. Instead,
she locked eyes with me defiantly as she shrugged off the shorts, exposing
the patch of hair between her legs.
Eyes still on me, she stepped into her dress and slowly brought it up until
her body was covered up. But all the dress did was accentuate her curves
and make her all the more irresistible.

She looked, in a word, stunning.

Then she turned around and cast me a quick look. It took me a second to
realize that she was asking me to zip up her dress. I closed the distance
between us and slowly obliged. My finger traced the contours of her spine,
and I swore I heard a tremulous gasp tumble from her lips at the touch.

I thought about swinging her around then and there to kiss her, to taste her.
But the moment passed, and she turned around. The drop of cum still clung
to her chin, and I reached up to wipe it away, only for her to stop me.

“Isn’t this what you want?” she whispered, defiance and hate burning in her
eyes. “To show the world that you own me? That I’m to kneel before you in
submission?”

I didn’t answer as I greedily drank in her appearance. My eyes darted to the

deep V neckline of her dress that gave me just the slightest hint of her
breasts, and my fingers twitched toward the curve of her hips. I wondered
what I would find when I peeled away the fabric later when we were alone.

She was mine. Mine to hold. Mine to own.

Mine to use.

“Your hand,” I said, and she obeyed.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the engagement ring that Boris had
taken from the back seat of her getaway car. It had been tossed back there
haphazardly with the dress. Without breaking eye contact, I slipped it on her
finger. She kept her expression still, but her jaw was clenched. From fear?
Hate? Anger?
None of that would matter, I decided.

“Come.” I turned around and ordered, “We have a wedding to finish.”

***

She said “I do.” Just like I said she would. She accepted my wedding ring
on her finger, just as I said she would. And she tilted her face and soft lips
up for me to devour, just as I said she would.

But it was the way she glared up at me with an unmistakable glint of anger
and frustration the entire time that left me rock hard at the altar.

After the ceremony, I stood in the corner of the ballroom, watching as my

wife conversed with her father a few feet away. I had never been very good
at reading lips, but judging by the way the two of them stared daggers at
each other, I didn’t have to imagine very hard what they were saying.

I was certain that he was raking her over the coals about embarrassing him
on her wedding day. I kept my eyes trained on them. For a brief moment, a
protective urge nearly sent me to step between them. After all, she was my
wife, and no longer under the control of her father. But something else kept
me rooted. It took me a second before I realized that it was the image of two
other people deep in conversation.

Uncle Misha and Mother were whispering at their table. And occasionally,
she would giggle and pick up a piece of food and feed it to him. He looked
so damn pleased at it all. I felt my anger rise up again and forced myself to
turn my attention back to Elia.

I couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked in that dress. The moment she
entered, heads turned to take in her breathtaking beauty. A savage pride had
taken hold of me as she arrayed herself before me, and I noticed a few of
the guests whose gaze lingered a little too long at the V of her neckline or
the full curves of her hips.
Those bastards all want a piece of her. And even now, I caught a few errant
eyes flying in her direction. Angry jealousy and the terrible sense of
possession took hold of me again, and I had to breathe deeply to calm
myself.

Still, my cock twitched in anticipation at what I would find later tonight

when I got her out of her dress. I had gotten a slight taste earlier when I
watched her change. But something told me that to grip those full hips
would be something else entirely.

Mine, I thought savagely. My wife. My possession.

My enemy, a voice whispered at the back of my head.

I looked down at the hand holding my drink, the one that now displayed a
black wedding band to match her gold one. It was finally done. I was
married. It was a peculiar feeling, knowing that I had erased another
person’s name in favor of mine.

I had promised her love, honor, and respect. From this day until our dying
day. And even though this wedding had been held under both duress and
pretense, there was still an undeniable attraction that both Elia and I felt.
There was no hiding that. I’d felt that the moment I cornered her back in
New York, and I’d felt it again when she took my cock in her throat.

She had surprised me, that was for sure. I knew she was a virgin. That had
been in the contract, and I would be the first and only man to know and
touch her.

But the way she took my cock on the highway told me that she wasn’t fully
inexperienced. There was no way that she hadn’t sucked a cock before.
From the moment her lips wrapped around me, it took everything I had not
to immediately spill myself into her mouth.

My groin tightened, and I adjusted my stance, eager for the rest of the party
to wind down so that I might take her back to my penthouse and bury
myself between her thighs.
“You look comfortable.”

I turned and found Boris beside me, a drink in his hand. “I’m fine.”

“You know you can be honest with me, right, Alyosha?” Boris chuckled.
“You haven’t taken your eyes off your bride since the moment she walked
away.”

Frowning, I took a sip of my drink. Had I really been so blatant? Normally,

I was much better at hiding my emotions. But when I was around Elia, it
was almost as if I couldn’t control myself anymore.

“It’s because of earlier,” I lied quickly.

“Should never have touched her, bratok,” Boris replied. “Not until tonight.”

He wasn’t wrong. I should never have taken it that far, but she had forced
my hand. I needed to remind her that this wasn’t a normal wedding. That
there was more at stake than either of us could understand. But above all
that, I wasn’t about to let her disrespect me further. I had to put her in her
place.

Because if I didn’t, there might be others who would seek to take advantage
of my perceived weakness.

Yet in that moment, everything had backfired. Instead of regaining control,

I found myself losing more and more of it. Where my mind was supposed
to focus on the Bratva and the schemes of Uncle Misha, it turned instead
toward Elia. To her defiant gaze. Her tempting lips. And her full,
curvaceous hips.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay tonight?” Boris was asking, a note of mocking
concern in his voice. “I can stand guard.”

I looked over at him, the one who knew my darkest secrets and the foul
deeds my father had forced me to do. “I think I can handle a single Tarallo
girl on my own, Borya.”

“So you claim, Alyosha.” He grinned. “And come the morning, I’m sure I’ll
hear that she tied you up and cut your balls off while you slept.”

Now it was my turn to grin. “I don’t think that Elia will be coming after my
balls tonight.”

Though a nagging feeling of suspicion hung in the back of my mind. I

suspected that she would do something. Would she try to avenge her
brother? Or would her own lust for me overpower her as it had on the
highway? No matter which way she chose, I knew that tonight was going to
be a night to remember.

It had been a long time since someone excited me like this. And that was
the honest truth. Elia excited me. Perhaps it was her sheer defiance. Or
perhaps it was the way she fought with herself in a vain attempt to hide her
own desires.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because she had shown me a sliver of what
she would be like in bed. The last thing I wanted was a wife who just lay
there and took it. If I had to be married against my own will to the daughter
of my enemy, I at least wanted her to be able to match me stroke for stroke.

And so far, Elia seemed to promise that she would do just that. Putting a
baby in her wouldn’t be a herculean task; I was certain of that.

“Then I expect to see you at the meeting tomorrow.” Boris clapped me on

the back, laughing. “Preferably in one piece.”

I didn’t respond as he walked away. A few minutes later, my sister Alya

found me, her eyes shining.

“Alyosha,” she stated. “It was a beautiful wedding, dear brother. I do hope
you will be happy with her.” Then she added, “And safe.”

Promise me, Alyosha!

“I will be, Alya,” I replied lightly. Whatever concerns my sister had, she
still had a sense of romanticism in her.

“And try to be a little nice.” Alya shrugged. “Anyone that is brave enough
to try and run away from you is bound to give you a run for your own
money.”

“Everyone has their opinion about me tonight, don’t they?”

“All I want to say is…” Alya placed her hand on my arm. “It might be nice
to have another woman who’s not Mother to talk to when it’s all said and
done.”

In that moment, I saw my sister’s own loneliness and wondered if my new

wife could relate to that better than I ever could. Father was dead, which
meant that Alya’s life might change—especially if I was the one setting the
rules instead of Uncle Misha. But until that was certain, she would be on
the same path as Elia—married off to some fucking idiot for a bullshit
alliance that might collapse if someone sneezed the wrong way.

I didn’t like how I felt about that comparison.

“I think everyone is waiting for the first dance,” Alya’s voice cut through
my thoughts. “So why not give the gawking gallery what they came to
see?”

I turned to Elia, and she was looking at me with an expectant expression in

her eyes. Sweeping my gaze across the rest of the ballroom, the anticipation
was palpable.

“Go!” Alya shooed, snatched my glass out of my hand, and pushed me

forward.

The moment I reached Elia, Etta James’s “At Last” began filtering through
the ballroom, and I gritted my teeth.
“A dance, my darling wife?” I murmured, reaching for her hand.

Elia’s eyes widened as I pulled her toward me. A flare shot through them
before she shuttered the look and replaced it with the usual anger and
defiance that I had come to expect.

“Put your arms around my neck,” I murmured near her ear, playing the
doting husband dancing with his wife. “And play your role.”

That got a reaction out of her. Obediently, her arms slipped around my
neck, and the faintest hint of her scent—flowery and unique—wafted
through the air. My cock tightened as my nose nuzzled the sensitive skin
behind her hair, and her breath quickened. Her fingers brushed the nape of
my neck in tandem.

Fuck. I wanted those fingers everywhere. Suddenly, images flashed through

my mind of her stroking my body, those nimble fingers brushing over the
hard planes of my chest before inching downward until they wrapped
around the thickness of my cock.

I wanted that. I craved it.

“Did you like sucking my cock earlier?” I whispered into her ear as I swung
her around the ballroom. “Did you like the taste of my cum down your
throat and on your lips?”

“You do that again,” she hissed, her arms tightening on my neck. “And I
will bite it off.”

I chuckled darkly in her ear. “But then how else might I please you?” My
hand found the spot on her back where the material left a gap. My fingers
pressed against the exposed skin and stroked it lightly. “Perhaps you would
prefer it with my fingers?”

She did her best to hide the flush that crossed her face. I dipped my head
closer so no one could see the grin on my face. “Or maybe you’d like it
with my mouth?”
“In your fucking dreams,” she breathed raggedly.

I was going to enjoy this far more than I thought.

As the last strains of the music died away, I stepped back, pressing my lips
to her hand before striding away. A nagging thought rose up in the back of
my head.

I was going to enjoy this too much.

***

After what felt like hours of endless well-wishing, we were bundled in our
car and driven toward my penthouse overlooking the Chicago River. I
watched Elia as she stared ahead with a blank, unreadable gaze and
wondered what was going through her mind now that we were alone.

“Are you hungry?” I asked lightly, attempting to break the stifling tension
between us.

“No.” She shook her head, her hands smoothing her lace skirt. “Where are
we going?”

“My penthouse,” I answered, drumming my fingers on my knee to keep

myself occupied.

Surprise flickered over her lovely features. “I thought we would be staying

at your family mansion.”

Of course she thought that. Why wouldn’t she? In everyone else’s eyes, the
mansion technically belonged to me now. But neither my uncle nor my
mother had decided to have the conversation with me on its final status.
And I wasn’t about to open that can of worms when there were so many
other things to worry about.
“I prefer my privacy from my family,” I said instead, the words coming out
harsher than intended.

Elia didn’t comment on them. Either she missed my tone, or she simply
chose to ignore it. For that, I allowed her a begrudging measure of
gratitude.

“I can understand,” she said. “I hate my father’s mansion. It’s too big, and
there are always people hanging around the corners. Like ghosts.”

Well, that was interesting. I would have assumed her to be one of those
pampered Mafia princesses who enjoyed that sort of thing. It seemed that
no matter what she did, Elia Tarallo always had ways of surprising me. I
wondered what else she was hiding and what else I would uncover.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven
Aleksey

I glanced down from where I sat leisurely in the armchair in my penthouse.

Even now, the memory of Elia on her knees sent shivers down my body. I
saw the way she took me into her mouth. I felt her moan on my cock. She
thought I didn’t notice how she clenched her perfect thighs together…A
familiar swoop of arousal swelled hotly between my legs.

As soon as we arrived, I made quick work of relieving myself of the

oppressive fabric of the suit and tie. The only thing I had on was my black
silk boxers and the confidence of my mastery over my wife. I listened to the
sound of water splashing against her supple skin in the large shower.

She hadn’t uttered another word to me since we entered. Surely, now Elia
understood that defying me came at a price. No matter how slight her
defiance might be.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and the faint floral shampoo of
shampoo and moisturizer wafted into the air delectably. I turned to see Elia
walk into our room, dressed in nothing but a thick, fluffy bathrobe.

I said nothing, choosing to watch her from my seat as she pointedly ignored
me and walked toward the spread of food. She picked at some fruit,
shoulders tense. I allowed myself to savor the sight and how her dark hair
clumped in rich, inky waves down to the tops of her shoulders. The
bathrobe left little to my imagination.

I still remembered the way her pert body felt when I yanked her from the
car. The plain wifebeater and pink booty shorts had done their part to put
me in the mood to take her mouth on the highway.

My cock twitched at the memory, and I was almost tempted to start stroking
myself until Elia turned and faced me from across the room. Her eyes
flashed toward my visible bulge before she looked away, cheeks flushing.
For someone with a mouth like hers, she certainly could play the prude.

“Like I told you on the dance floor…” She looked back at me, voice firm as
she pointedly ignored my cock to meet my gaze.

I arched an eyebrow but remained silent.

“If you ever try to make me do what we did back on the highway ever again
—” She crossed her arms. “I will bite your cock off.”

She was baiting me, daring me to rise to the challenge and testing my
limits. Under normal circumstances, I probably would have risen to meet
the challenge. It was what I knew to do. What I was raised to do. I was well
within my rights to order her back onto her knees and to use her until she
was nothing but a spent, whimpering shell.

It was what any Bratva Pakhan was supposed to do.

But I did none of those things. I saw no reason to. She was just trying to act
tough, testing me to see how cruel and vicious I could be. All so she could
hate me as the monster that she believed me to be. And then she’d use that
hate to justify her future betrayal.

I would not give her that. Instead, I simply stared at her in silence.

After a moment, she began to crack. I saw her start to squirm. Her arms
crossed even tighter, and her form shrank before my gaze. She stared back,
but I could tell that she was fighting to hold her glare.

“Mrs. Korolev,” I said with a smirk, deliberately choosing to enunciate

slowly to remind her of who she belonged to. “You could’ve bitten me back
then. And yet, you didn’t.”

Her eyes hardened into stones. “You held my friend hostage. It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I shrugged. “But what made you think that it would be?”
I leaned forward and drilled into her eyes as my face formed into a serene
smile. “If your threats had any bite at all, Mrs. Korolev, you would not be
standing here, soaked and dripping before me.”

She stiffened, and I could feel her desire to hurt me coil in her eyes. Her
knuckles were pale white from gripping her arms.

“Reality doesn’t hit the same, does it, Elia?” I asked, watching as her breath
quickened with every slow, agonizing step toward her. “You knelt down and
swallowed my cock because you wanted to. You left my cum on your lip
because you liked how I marked you. You said ‘I do’ in the end on that altar
because you know exactly how much power I have over you.”

Her jaw dropped, a flush spread over her face, and then she gaped at me
instead of responding. It was all the proof I needed to know: I had hit the
nail right on the head. My fingers found the bottom of her chin, and I pulled
her toward me so she couldn’t look away.

“You probably hate me, but you hate yourself more right now because you
know I’m right,” I said. “Because you want me to take you right now. To
throw you on that bed, spread your legs open, and give you the best fuck of
your life.”

Finally, a surge of rage burned across her reddened face, and she wrenched
herself out of my grip.

She spun, her hand shooting toward the nearest bottle of champagne. But I
was already exploding into action. The bottle never even lifted an inch from
the ice bucket when my hand took hold of her.

She gasped as her back collided with the wall with a thump. “Let me go!”
she hissed through clenched teeth.

“So you can waste a perfectly good bottle of champagne by smashing it on

my head?” I chuckled darkly as I plucked the bottle easily from her delicate
fingers.
In the brief scuffle, her bathrobe burst open and heat—scalding hot and
dewy against my skin—poured from her body. She whimpered as I pressed
my hips hard against her, holding her effortlessly against me once again.

A strand of her hair hung over her eyelashes, and she whipped her head to
the side to get it out of her eyes as her breath quickened until she was
gasping in my grip. She gazed up at me like a cornered wild animal. But
beneath her fire and fury, I could see a deep primal instinct slowly taking
over.

“Fuck you…” She bared her teeth and struggled against me with all her
might. I wrapped my arms around her, savoring the sensation of her skin
against mine. My cock ached with my pulse thundering against her full, taut
ass, demanding release.

“Why deny what you know is true?” I whispered against her ear. She folded
against me as her knees gave a light tremor. “I can feel it.”

“Liar…” she gasped, but the shift in her body only drew us closer. I felt her
thighs, slick and inviting, pressing against mine with need. She gasped as
her hips angled just enough to place her searing entrance right above my
cock. Our eyes locked at the exact same time when the exact same
realization came to pass.

Her cheeks flushed redder as a low chuckle rumbled in my chest.

I maneuvered her wrists easily with my right hand and freed my left, not
breaking eye contact as I slowly caressed along her arm, over her crumpled
robe, and to the tremoring exposed flesh of her chest. Her eyes widened,
and she froze, pupils expanding as my palm dragged down the curve of her
breast to give her nipple a gentle, teasing roll. A shiver sent her closer to
me. She was quaking as I kept dragging my palm down until my fingers
found the soft bed of trimmed little curls between her legs.

Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to offer some measure of token

resistance. But the words died on her lips as soon as I sank my fingers
further down, finding the silky wetness that had flooded her. I teased her
open, splaying the delicate folds that coated my fingers in her arousal. She
was drenched.

“Who’s the liar now?” I whispered into her ear.

A whimper hitched in her throat like music to my ears. My fingers
continued to roam among the slickness between her thighs, teasing her clit
with little circles that left her gasping. Her eyes glazed over with a thin film
of lust—hazy and needy and honest for the very first time.

“All you have to do is ask,” I said, voice soft and low. Her eyes hardened
again, and without warning, she sucked in a sharp breath and spat.

I felt the spit slap my cheek. A savage smile spread across my face as I
bared my teeth at her.

“All right,” I said. “If that is what you want.”

It was the only warning I gave her before I grabbed her swiftly from the
wall and spun her around to face the wall. She did nothing to fight back as I
grabbed her bathrobe and ripped it from her body. In a single swift motion,
my boxers fell around my ankles and I kicked them away to join the
puddled bathrobe.

I pressed myself, hard and insistent, against her. My hands dug into her soft
skin.

Elia grunted, trying to press her hands against the wall to push me away.
But a single quick hoist of her hips and a nudge of my knees between her
thighs was all I needed. All I had to do was angle my hips slightly and my
cock would slip past her gorgeous ass cheeks to the inviting warmth that
thirsted to be filled.

Oh, you’re not getting off that easily.

Elia shuddered a loud gasp, and her fingers curled against the wall at the
sensation of my cock rubbing up against her folds. Wet heat dripped over
me as I found an easy rhythm, a teasing reminder of what she herself ached
for. The head of my cock flirted with the little bundle of nerves at the peak
of her sex, and the whimpers that emerged from her lips with each slow
stroke were delectable.

I dipped my head and pushed my nose into her damp hair. Flowery scent
filled my nostrils, and I groaned as my hands roamed up her hips to take
hold of her and slide my thumbs over the cute dimples of her lower back.

Elia moaned again, her body shaking in anticipation as I continued to tease

and slide my cock against her. I pointedly gave tiny thrusts with my
engorged head so that it would press against her clit. Her hips jolted as I
pulled back, but I held myself in check.

She whined, and I grinned in return. I could feel her defenses breaking with
every stroke. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and it took every ounce of
willpower to keep from burying myself to the hilt.

But I knew that wasn’t how I wanted to play this game. I wanted her to
submit. I wanted her to admit her own desire—to tell me in between each
gasp and moan.

Because I was willing to do whatever it took, however long it took.

Until she was begging me to claim her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twelve
Elia

My body was on fire.

I gasped as I clung to the wall and dug my fingers against the smooth
plaster. With every teasing thrust I felt between my legs, another violent
ripple of desire pulsed through my nerves, igniting every fiber of my being.
Every slide of Aleksey’s cock against the tender folds of my pussy left me
quivering. His strong fingers gripping my hips forced me to arch up on my
toes and press desperately against the wall as my brain and body screamed
at me to give in, to surrender, to succumb.

I was losing control. I knew that. I knew the moment he claimed my lips on
the altar. The moment he pulled me close to him on the dance floor.

I knew that I would be facing an uphill battle the moment I decided to

challenge my husband and attempt to reassert a semblance of control. I’m
not yours to use how you like. I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m at
your beck and call.

How could I have been so goddamn naïve?

It was laughable now. I should have known that there was no chance in hell
that I would ever be in control in his presence. I’d deluded myself into
believing that I could be the one to make him kneel for a change.

I was a snowball in hell, and Aleksey Korolev was the devil. I never had a
chance. And now, I pressed against the wall, powerless to resist. And each
slow, teasing thrust peeled away another layer of my dangerously thin
veneer of resistance. It was only a matter of time before he got exactly what
he wanted.

Exactly what I want too…I shamefully thought.

I wanted him.
I wanted him, God…I wanted him so bad.

And it wasn’t fair.

But that was what he had said, wasn’t it? That none of this was ever going
to be fair.

I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t feel such a violent urge to touch him, to
let him claim me, to allow him to take me as his own and have me in every
single way a man could have a woman.

I clung to the single thread of hatred in my body that tied me back to the
one thing I knew I could use to blame him. Luca.

I tried to remember how I saw my brother’s mangled face and body, cut up
and butchered. I tried to remember how hard I screamed into my pillow and
cried over the loss of my brother, my friend, my only support in this world.

Tarallos are made of stronger stuff.

But another slow thrust and my brother’s face faded away. My knees
remembered the gritty bite of the highway. My nose recalled the irresistible
musk rolling from Aleksey’s body. And I could swear my tongue tasted the
salty essence of his cum.

He murdered Luca. And yet all I want is to spread my legs for him.

No matter how hard I tried to grit my teeth and hold on to the vile truth that
shamed me, my hatred crumbled away like water between my fingers with
every slippery caress of his cock. In its place, the implacable flame of desire
burned away all thoughts until my mind and heart were overwhelmed.
Every touch of his fingers sent another spark of static coursing through me
as he glided his palms up my back, across my ribs, until they cupped my
breasts.

He squeezed and sparked jolts of pleasure across my body. I fought the urge
to moan and react. But my traitorous hips began moving on their own
accord, quickening the pace between us as he continued to tease and touch.

I was being drawn back like a slingshot. Each motion built up a deep
tension that demanded release. Every graze, breath, and sweet caress left
me trembling for more.

Perhaps I’d be able to hate him more if he were to grip and bruise. If he
bent my limbs at the joint until they snapped like he did to the thug who
tried to hurt me, perhaps I’d find the fire in me to fight back.

But this?

This was death by a thousand tiny cuts. Not enough to hurt, but enough to
weaken my resolve. I could feel his breath picking up pace against the back
of my neck, tickling me. I could hear soft, stifled groans against my hair as
his hips rocked against mine.

This torture filled my eyes with tears. Maybe I couldn’t hate him…No
matter how hard I tried.

The thought left me hating myself for giving in. My limits twisted and bent.
The primal part of me deep inside, the one which had cackled with glee
when he came down my throat, took over. And a single word echoed
through my mind, drowning out all other thoughts.

Please, please, please!

I bit my lips and curled my fingers tighter. My eyes squeezed shut, and I felt
a hot tear rolling down the corner of my eyes to join the beads of sweat that
already dotted my face. I pressed my forehead against the wall, trying to
think of literally anything else except how good Aleksey made me feel. I
was an instrument, and his hands played me as if they were made to touch
me, like I was made for him.

“Come on, Elia,” I heard him rumbling behind my ear, pouring in delicious
poison. I leaned toward him without thinking as I tried to stifle another
moan.
“All you have to do…” He rolled his hips again in tandem with the
sensation of his hand dragging down my belly, trailing sparks of fire in its
wake. He was burning me alive.

“…is tell me…” His fingers dropped lower until he pushed past the soft
curls and pressed against the hardened button of my clit, rubbing dirty
circles against me as his cock dragged away.

I shook and trembled as I pretended that I could hold out. And then his
fingers splayed me open once again, and I felt the tip breach my entrance.
Just enough to send waves of pleasure ripping through me.

My body reacted with a jolt; my hips chased the sensation of their own
accord. And suddenly all I could think was—Oh! Yes…! Please!

He breathed another groan in my ear just as I reached the edge of my own

sanity. His words hung hot and heavy around my ear.

“…That you want me to fuck you.”

Yes…I quivered, and I felt my head give the slightest nod. Yes. Yes. Yes!

His hips pulled away; his teasing head slipped back out—and I was
suddenly awash with a desperate sense of emptiness. My string of hatred
frayed and snapped, and a lusty cry burned from my throat.

“PLEASE!”

My hands jumped from the wall and reached for his, locking around his
wrists and fingers to keep him in place as my brain begged. Don’t go, don’t
go, don’t go. My hips pushed back against him, desperate to be filled.
Desperate to be full.

“Please!” I cried out.

He held me in place, holding me at bay as I struggled to close our distance.
“Please what?” His teasing voice rumbled with triumph.

“Please fuck me…” I begged, whimpering.

His hands on my skin tightened their grip, and I was jolted into position
until finally—finally—I felt him push slowly inside of me. I shuddered out a
wanton cry at the same time I heard him grunt in relief.

Thick and hot, he entered me. I felt the same curve I’d gazed at earlier, the
same curve I’d felt against my tongue. But this time, it pushed deep inside
me, pushing, pushing, pushing—until he reached a place that no one had
ever touched. His hips crashed into me as he buried himself so firmly
against that singular spot inside me, claiming me for himself and marking
me as his.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed against the wall, bracing against it for
dear life as Aleksey began to thrust. Long, deep strokes set my body alight
with pleasure as he drew deep, husky moans from my lips.

I heard him groaning loudly in my ear, and it seemed like he was on the
verge of losing control too. We found ourselves both sliding down the wall
until my knees clipped the floor and his massive body enveloped mine. His
hands roamed freely over my skin until they took hold of my hips.

White-hot pleasure speared through me so hard that my ears began to ring. I

could vaguely hear myself crying out in a useless loop of “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
as my climax barreled toward me with the force of a freight train.

Aleksey was huffing. His body was trembling atop me as I gave him
everything he demanded. His weight was oppressive, yet I knew that if he
pulled away, I would crawl on my hands and knees, begging him to return.

His hands drifted down to my thighs and pried them open to give himself
better access. And in that moment, white-hot pleasure pulsed deep in my
core, culminating into a singular point that left me scrambling up to my
hands and knees. I tossed my hair back and felt his lips claim my neck. His
teeth grazed along the delicate flesh as he left tiny bites on my shoulder.

I was moaning like a whore under his touch. My walls clamped down on
him, and I was faintly aware of him swearing in Russian. The rapid-fire
syllables sent another shiver through me. His fingers tightened. His cock
stiffened even harder.

And then it happened. I felt myself breaking under him. A long shriek of
pleasure clawed its way out of my throat as I grabbed the floor for dear life.
I pressed my forehead against the floor as he pulled me closer to him.
Where did I end? Where did he begin? I couldn’t tell anymore. For a split
second, we became a single unit. This wasn’t anything I could have
imagined before. I felt him take my body higher than it had ever gone, and
the only thing my mind could focus on was his pulsing rod deep inside of
me.

With a roar, he joined me in mutual pleasure. A surge of hot wet heat

flooded inside me. It was delicious, and every thrust became a thick,
creamy slide of flesh on flesh that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my
head. He gave one final thrust into me, emptying himself as my womb
greedily drank in every last drop of his essence.

Aleksey groaned again as fading waves of pleasure swallowed us under the

surf of desire. His hands gripped my hips, and for a moment, I thought he
would continue. A sweet, delicious eternity later, he pulled himself out and
that feeling of emptiness returned as soon as he was gone.

His hands slowly released me and I collapsed forward, trembling and

gasping in an inelegant heap on the floor. My ass was still in the air, and I
was dimly aware of a bead of his cum oozing from my sore sex.

And in that moment, it occurred to me that he had never once kissed me.
Even as he stood up and looked down at my conquered form on the ground.
I curled up on the floor, the fog of lust and desire blanketed over me as I
shuddered in the afterglow.
He was right…it was the best damn fuck of my life.

But I wanted something more, and my mind clung to the memory of his lips
at the altar. It had been a bruising kiss, as if he were marking me in front of
everyone as a reminder of who I belonged to.

As my breathing slowed, I felt his strong arms scoop me up and carry me to

the massive bed. His footsteps then disappeared into the bathroom without
so much as another word. The door closed, and as I stared at the warm cum
still slowly sliding down my thighs, I wondered how it would feel for him
to pry my lips open with his mouth like he’d pried my cunt open with his
cock.

On the other side of the door, the shower roared to life. My brain slowly
pieced itself back together.

I was suddenly ashamed at what I had just done.

I let him fuck me. I begged him to fuck me.

I closed my eyes, panting, and wondered if my heart could ever forgive me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirteen
Elia

The next morning, I woke alone. For a moment I looked around the room,
attempting to get my bearings. Then it all came crashing back.

The wedding. My husband. The sex.

There was a soreness between my legs that wasn’t there yesterday, but it
didn’t hurt.

It was unusual. I threw back the covers, stepped onto the rug, and stretched,
looking out over the Chicago River. It was a lovely day, one that I would
have already taken full advantage of with a run through the park or early
morning coffee with Lana if I were still in New York.

But I was in Chicago now. All the familiar sights and sounds, my usual
haunts, no longer existed.

I had nothing here except my husband. And he too was missing.

Tamping down the loneliness, I cleaned up in the bathroom and changed

into a comfortable set of clothing that I found in the wardrobe. The
wardrobe was well stocked. Everything from expensive designer dresses to
high-end workout clothing. There was also a ton of skimpy lingerie in every
color, all my size.

All for the wife of a Bratva Pakhan, and the mother of his future heir.

Looking down at my hand, I turned it in the light so that the diamonds

sparkled. No one could deny that it wasn’t a lovely ring, one that any girl
would have swooned to wear. But me? I knew it didn’t mean anything other
than the fact that it tied me to Aleksey.

With a sigh, I dropped my hand. I couldn’t hide for the rest of my life. It
was time for me to face my husband and figure out what the rest of my life
was going to be like.
I was a Tarallo, regardless of what my last name was now. I was stronger
than this.

I had to be.

I walked through the hallway to the open living room and kitchen, taking in
the minimalistic look that had become popular right now. Silver appliances
belied a coldness that seemed to suck away all warmth from the space. My
eyes drifted to an espresso coffee maker on the granite countertop.

Thank God.

Walking over to the coffee maker, I plucked a cup from the nearby rack and
placed it under the spout, pressing a few buttons to get it started.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, I whirled around to find Aleksey standing there, dressed in a full

suit. My heart skipped at the sight, and memories of last night came rushing
back.

“I’m just,” I stammered. “I’m making coffee. Do you want some?”

He braced his hands on the island. “I’ve already had my cup. But thank you
for the offer.”

It was the most civil that we’d been since our paths officially crossed. My
eyes wandered down his body, remembering what I had touched last night.
Naked, he had been like a Greek god. But in a suit? Something about the
way the finely tailored fabric outlined every sharp angle of his body
commanded my attention. I felt my own desires slowly peek up deep within
me, and without realizing, I bit my bottom lip.

“Last night wasn’t enough, was it?”

Dammit, I was blushing! Thankfully, the coffee completed its cycle, and it
gave me the distraction I needed to turn away from him before I said
something self-incriminating.

“There’s creamer in the fridge,” he said. “And sugar in the cabinet above
you.”

“I—thanks,” I muttered, deciding that it would probably be a better idea for

me to suffer through drinking plain black coffee this morning. “Where are
you going?”

“I have a meeting with my uncle to discuss the future of my Bratva,”

Aleksey replied when he came around the island. “You are not a prisoner
here, Elia. You are free to come and go as you please.”

“Within these walls? As long as I have a guard?” I finished for him. I knew
the drill. I knew that he might promise me freedom, but there was no way in
hell that he’d actually let me roam free. My father never did. Why would
my husband be any different?

Aleksey’s jaw clenched tightly. “This is our way of life, Elia.”

“I know.” I turned my gaze to look down at my coffee instead. I’d been told
those words my entire life. I didn’t need him to remind me. “Fine.”

Aleksey slid a slim phone across the island. “This is yours. My number and
Boris’s are programmed in it in case you need something. I have someone
that comes and cleans, restocks the fridge, and a chef that comes by every
once in a while when I need him. They will always be accompanied by a
guard. Do not let anyone up who is not.”

His words rolled off his tongue, but I barely heard them. They were the
same instructions more or less from my father’s house.

Well, at least he was letting me leave when I wanted. That had taken quite
some time.
“And what of my bodyguard?” I asked, unable to help myself. “Will I have
one?”

“Elia.”

I forced my chin to tilt upward, finding him mere inches from my face.
“What?” I forced out, barely recognizing my own voice.

“I am your guard,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “There is nowhere you
will go without me. And if not with me, then you will go with Boris. This is
not up for argument.”

“Fine,” I told him. “I understand.”

Aleksey reached out and gripped my chin lightly, the smell of his cologne
causing my insides to tremble. And the sense of longing on my lips returned
as I wondered if he might kiss me.

“I will be back later,” he said after a moment.

“Okay,” I whispered, desperately wishing he’d dip his lips and press them
against mine.

But he refused. He dropped his fingers from my chin and strode off without
another word. I waited until the elevator doors shut before I sagged against
the counter, my heart racing in my chest.

It was almost as if he was deliberately attempting to avoid kissing me

altogether. But why? He hadn’t kissed me last night, and I chalked it up to
the frantic need for each other that had taken over us. But now? What was
holding him back? Did he even consider me his wife?

We were only in the first day of our marriage, and I was already struggling
to contain myself around my husband. I wanted him to throw me on the
bed, to push me on the counter, to do something other than the cool
indifference that he had given me just a few moments ago.
Like I was some sort of houseguest instead of his wife.

Sighing, I pushed away from the counter. I didn’t know much about being a
wife or the day after marriage, but this couldn’t be what normal people went
through.

But then again, nothing about us was normal.

And I wondered if we could ever be.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fourteen
Aleksey

I stepped out of the car, straightening my jacket as I did so. The last thing I
wanted to do today was meet with my uncle, but he had insisted on this
meeting. And I couldn’t very well ignore him. In a way, he still held my
future in his hands, and I wanted to know where I stood.

Instead of meeting at the mansion, my uncle had chosen to meet at my

father’s work office. The imposing building gleamed in the morning sun,
and I adjusted my sunglasses against the glare.

“Well,” Boris drawled as he came to stand beside me. “Was this worth
leaving your wife this morning?”

I didn’t answer him, remembering how the overwhelming need to have Elia
this morning had nearly made me late for this meeting.

After last night, I had kept my distance. Not because I didn’t want her, but
because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fucking her
repeatedly until I couldn’t think straight.

And right now, I needed my wits about me.

I moved forward, and Boris fell in step behind me as he always did,

watching my back. We passed through the glass doors, and a man in a dark
suit hurried toward me.

“Aleksey Fyodorovich, right this way.”

I kept my expression neutral, walking behind him to the elevators. I fucking

hated this part of the job. I would much rather be killing my enemies than
trying to sit in a room with my fucking uncle right now.

Still, I followed the man to the office and found Uncle Misha seated in the
posh office that had been my father’s.
The first thing I noticed when I entered was that all of my father’s favorite
paintings were missing from their usual positions on the walls. In their
place were cheap replicas of landscapes, boats drifting out to sea, mountains
capped in snow overlooking valleys. Art that could all be bought for cheap
on the streets.

It was those changes that punched me square in the gut, reminding me that
my father was truly gone. And that no matter how much I might have
resented him or hated him, a part of me truly did miss him.

Beside me, Boris slowed to a stop and cast a quick glance. His expression
morphed from mild confusion and bewilderment to one of silent
understanding. He said nothing as I took in slow, deep breaths as my fists
clenched hard at my sides.

“Alyosha,” Uncle Misha greeted me while Boris closed the doors. “It’s
good to see you. Sorry to pull you away from your honeymoon.”

“Aleksey Fyodorovich,” I corrected him. “Do not presume to be so familiar,

Mikhail Yevgenievich. Even Father never called me that in this office.”

“Alyosha, please.” My uncle chuckled and poured a drink for me, handing
it over before taking the chair across from me. “There is no need to be so
hostile. I am not my brother.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

Uncle Misha’s expression darkened for a moment, and I knew I had struck a
nerve. “Alyosha. I am still your uncle. And soon, your stepfather.”

“And you take pride in that, Mikhail Yevgenievich?” I pressed. “Might I

ask how you had the gall to fuck my mother before my father’s body was
even cold in the ground?” I leaned forward. “Or how you chose to disinvite
me to his funeral. Me! His only son. Or how I was informed of this farcical
wedding a day before it happened?”
His hand tightened on his glass. “Careful, nephew,” he finally said. “There’s
a lot more at stake than you might realize.”

I let out a hollow laugh and took my seat. “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of hurting my nephew.” Uncle Misha let
out a slow grin. “I wouldn’t possibly dare go against my Pakhan.”

I slowly sat back, keeping my rage to a minimum. I wasn’t afraid of him. I

could kill him before he had a chance to pull his gun. Since the moment I
had been informed of Father’s death, I had thought about it many times.

“What is it that you wanted to discuss, Uncle?”

“Khorosho,” Uncle Misha replied, tapping his glass with his finger. “Know
this first, Alyosha. I am only looking out for the future of our Bratva and for
you.”

I laughed. If I didn’t believe that he had killed my father, his little speech
might have been touching. “Pray tell, Uncle. What would you be doing?”

“I ensured that your father’s contract went through,” he said, before taking a
drink. “Now you have the Tarallo heir in your bed, settling this bloody feud
at last, and you can ensure that our name continues. Surely even my brother
would have been proud of such a masterful stroke. And surely you could
say thank you.”

“You think that I ought to thank you? For putting that viper in my bed?” I
asked, keeping my anger under control for now. “Is that what you truly
believe?”

“You forget your place, Alyosha,” my uncle replied evenly, his dark eyes
leveled on me.

“I know my fucking place, and it’s in that chair where you sit.” I stood up.
All my life I had been ordered one way or another, forced into a fucking
line that I hated to walk. My uncle had been no different than my father,
though in my father’s presence, he always seemed to blend with the
woodwork.

No wonder he had to sneak into my mother’s bed.

“I should ask you, Uncle,” I continued. “Have you forgotten yours?”

“Forgotten?” My uncle smirked as he rose from his chair as well, placing

his glass on the table. “God above, no! No, dear nephew, I haven’t forgotten
anything. If anything has been forgotten, it’s your role in our family.”

I laughed, only because if I didn’t, I might have succumbed to the urge to

kill my uncle.

“Tell me, Uncle. What do you think my role is? Because I believe that you
are trying to rob me of it. Sitting there in my father’s seat, a seat that never
belonged to you. Claiming that you are concerned about the family, about
the Bratva, and that you would never go against your Pakhan.” He wasn’t
the head of this Bratva. I was. “Yet your actions betray you at every turn.”

To my surprise, my uncle didn’t react to my words. He slipped a hand

through his hair.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Alyosha. Your father, he didn’t see your full
potential. He always withheld that from you.”

I let out an abrupt laugh. “And you? What are you trying to do, Mikhail
Yevgenievich? Pretend that you can fill some fucking gap that my father
didn’t?” Was he really thinking that his do-gooder bullshit was going to
work on me?

“No, of course not,” he snapped, turning to face me. “You need to make
certain you understand where your priorities lie, nephew. The Bratva must
come first.”
I was done with this conversation. Placing my glass on the table, I buttoned
my jacket and tugged on the hem to straighten it.

“Don’t you dare think for one second I haven’t put this fucking Bratva
first,” I seethed. “I spent ten years in New York away from home. Ten years
in service of this Bratva. While you sat in my father’s shadows, leeching off
him.”

“So don’t you worry, Uncle Misha.” Stepping forward, I patted my uncle’s
chest. “I understand where my priorities lie. I only ask you if you know
where yours are.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment I thought he might say something
clever in response. A shadow passed over his eyes, but it disappeared as
quickly as it came. Finally, he bowed his head.

“Apologies, Aleksey Fyodorovich,” he said. “I spoke out of turn. I merely

wanted to inform you that our allies here in Chicago wish to send you their
regards and well wishes. They hope for a fruitful marriage in celebration of
the peace that you have forged. And I was merely keeping this seat warm
for you.”

His jaw tightened as he walked around to the other side of the desk, bowing
one more time before he stepped out of the office.

“What do you want me to do?” Boris asked as he closed the door after
Uncle Misha. “Do I need to call a cleaner to process his body soon?”

“No.” I shot him a look. “We won’t do anything about him right now. I
want him alive so that I might know what the hell he’s planning behind my
back.”

“Anything else?”

“Keep tabs on the rest of the brigadiers. I want to know who’s loyal to me
and who’s loyal to my uncle. I don’t trust him, Borya. And I have no
intention of joining my father.”
 ***

The rest of the day was spent looking over the various documents my father
had left behind. The majority of our money was tied up in underground
gambling and drugs. All of it was laundered through the law offices that my
father had founded over the years. But the last ten years had seen us move
into the weapons trade.

It was why I had been sent to New York in the first place.

The harder the NYPD tried to crack down on the illegal gun trade, the more
it only resulted in an explosion of creative entrepreneurs. One of the
craftiest was none other than Ludovico Tarallo, who had the genius idea of
buying very legal weapons in states like Pennsylvania—cash, of course—
filing off the serial numbers and reassembling them for sale to eager buyers
across the five boroughs.

But the longer I stayed in New York, fighting what seemed like a pointless
war, the less sense all of it made. The Korolev Bratva made more than
enough money here in Chicago. We didn’t need to expand into New York.
We had no reason to.

Father had insisted that I would know the reason when the time came. But
now he was dead, and the only answers I might find were in these
documents. I pored over them, each one making less and less sense. By the
end of the day, I concluded that there was no way for me to easily uncover
my father’s intent in a single afternoon.

***

Boris followed me into the elevator and hit the button to take us back to our
waiting car. “How did you enjoy your first day as Pakhan?”

“It was exhausting,” I replied honestly. “I want to say all of this makes
sense, but it just doesn’t. The more documents I see, the less sense it makes.
I always thought that Father had a plan for this. But I’m starting to think
that he didn’t.”

In frustration, I pulled out my cell phone and made sure that Elia hadn’t
tried to contact me all day. When I had given her the cell phone this
morning, I had hoped that she might use it. Sure, I had installed a tracker
software on it after her attempt to escape before the wedding. But what man
in my position wouldn’t?

This marriage wasn’t something either of us wanted. My job was to wed

her, fuck her, and impregnate her.

That was all.

I didn’t give a shit otherwise what she did, and deep down, I didn’t think
that Elia was one to run around on me like my mother did to my father.

We reached the car without incident, and Boris shut the door behind me.
“Where to?”

“Home,” I growled. “I have a wife to go back to now, Borya. And it would

be rude of me to keep her waiting.

My wife, I scoffed. It still didn’t seem real. I had someone waiting for me at
home.

***

We drove on in silence, and I continued to turn over everything in my mind.

Was Father preparing for a war here in Chicago when he sent me to destroy
the Tarallo Mafia? But again, it made no sense. We could’ve done
everything I was doing in New York here. The more I thought about it, the
more it felt like I had been sent to New York so that I could be out of the
way.

Thoughts continued to tumble through my head as I rode the elevator up to

the penthouse, my energy sapped from the day. When the doors opened, I
was assaulted by the scent of garlic and tomatoes, and I stepped into the
space with some surprise.

Elia was at the stove, humming as she stirred something in a large pot. She
was dressed in a pair of shorts and a sports bra, with a jacket thrown over
the outfit. Her feet were bare, her hair was down, and her face was devoid
of makeup. Yet there was something utterly delicious in the way she looked
at that moment.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You’re home.” She whirled around, her mouth rounding. “I made dinner
while waiting,” she said slowly, her cheeks flushing. “I like to cook. It
relaxes me.”

I stepped over to her, the tantalizing smells making my stomach growl.

Fuck, I was hungry. “I wouldn’t have imagined that.”

She gave me a little smile before turning back to the pot. “When you are a
don’s daughter, there’s not much to do other than learn these things. Our
chef was patient, and he taught me all sorts of recipes.”

Clasping my hands behind my back, I peered over her shoulder, taking the
moment to savor the flowery scent that was so uniquely hers mingled with
the smell of the food she cooked. I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected
her to turn into the domestic wife so quickly.

I had expected her to be armed with a knife or her gun, waiting for me to
arrive home so she could be a widow in record time.

Without saying another word, I walked over to the bar near the window and
poured a drink, shedding my coat as I did so. “You could have called the
chef.”

“I didn’t want to,” she countered, the sound of a knife hitting a cutting
board filling the air.
I took one sip and then downed the entire damn thing, hoping that it would
help me keep my fucking sanity tonight.

When I turned, however, Elia was looking at me. “Are you upset that I
made us dinner?”

“No, not at all,” I said tightly, clenching the glass. She looked worried, so I
put the glass down and walked over to her, pressing her against the counter.
“I want to fuck you.”

She shuddered, and I knew what she wanted. “Is that all you can think
about?”

“More than you could possibly believe.” With a growl, I flipped her around
and pressed her against the counter, my hand roaming over her ass.
“Because I’ve been thinking about this since I left in the morning.”

I growled, yanking down the waistband. When her lace thong came into
view, I groaned inwardly.

She was going to be the death of me.

My hand tugged on her bra until I could get it over her breasts. She moaned
as I maneuvered the thong out of the way, positioning her until I could see
her glistening lips. She was wet, soaking wet, and my cock roared to life.

I tweaked her nipple until she cried out, working on my own zipper until
my cock sprang out. Without waiting, I thrust it inside her, groaning as I
filled her to the core.

I grasped her hips with my free hand while the other moved to her face,
pushing my thumb into her greedy mouth. She sucked it obediently and
eagerly.

“Did you do all this for me?” I asked.

She moaned, and I pulled out enough to thrust back into her, savoring the
way her walls clenched tightly around me. She wanted this as much as I
did.

If nothing else, we were going to fuck each other into our old age.

I released her breast to grab both of her hips, increasing my speed into a
steady rhythm. “Come for me,” I growled. “Come for me, Elia.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her hands gripping the counter tightly, her body
quivering around me. “Please.”

I knew what she was begging for. I could see it in the way her face kept
turning around, her eyes focused on my lips. She was begging me for that
kiss—the one thing that I refused to give her.

Elia moaned my name as she worked herself against me, and when I
reached around to touch her clit, she exploded, crying out as her wetness
engulfed me. With a savage growl, I pushed myself deep against her,
burying my face in the crook of her neck and sucking at the sensitive skin
until I emptied myself.

For a minute, I remained on top of her, my heart racing and my blood

pounding in my ears. My body was sated, but I still craved more.

I craved the same thing that she begged for. But I couldn’t give that to her. I
wouldn’t. Because to do so meant she held real power over me. And until I
could right the wrongs currently in my life, I couldn’t risk that.

After a few minutes, I pushed away, pulling out of her carefully. She gasped
as I did.

I tucked myself back into my pants and watched as Elia shakily pulled up
her shorts, giving me a tantalizing view of her ass as she did so.

“The sauce is ruined,” she said, hurrying over to the stove to shut it off. I
helped her remove the heavy pot from the burner.
“I’m going to change,” I said, needing to put some distance between us.
“Then I’ll be back.”

She didn’t respond, and I strode to the bedroom, slamming my hand into the
doorway as I did so. Dammit! She left me feeling insatiable. Every moment
around her left me wanting her more and more.

Between whatever my uncle was plotting and Elia, my life wasn’t going to
be peaceful for a long time.

Sighing, I walked to the bathroom, stripping off the rest of my suit as I did
so. I had to get everything back in control.

Before everything went to shit.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fifteen
Elia
Three Weeks Later

I moaned into the pillow as Aleksey filled me from behind, pushing until he
met resistance. As always, he set my body on fire with his every motion.
My nipples brushed against the comforter, sending small sparks of
excitement burning along my spine. When his hand fisted in my hair,
pulling me up to let loose a long wanton cry of pleasure, I arched my back
instinctively against him. My body ground against his thrusting hips in a
way that drew the same rumbling appreciation from him.

“Fuck,” he muttered above me as he splayed me open, his hands tugging

insistently at my hair. “You minx.”

I gasped into the pillow, using it to muffle my cries of pleasure as he pulled

back the taut tension in my body just a little bit further than before—enough
to make me shatter under him. His thrusts grew more frantic until he finally
collapsed atop me, shuddering, and emptied himself deep inside. His heavy
body rested against mine briefly before I felt his lips brushing against my
spine, tracing a neat, even line down to the small of my back.

And then, just like that, Aleksey pulled back and was gone.

Sighing, I pulled the comforter up around me, curling on the bed as I

listened to him step into the shower to get ready for his day. My body
trembled with aftershocks. My breath and my heart slowly returned to their
regular cadences after Aleksey had left both racing.

But a nagging feeling remained, pulling at my gut like it always had for
every night of the last three weeks.

It always came as my pleasure ebbed away. And trailing in its wake was an
unbearable emptiness. He hadn’t kissed me since our wedding. Not once.

Not during our regular morning bouts when he held me under him as he left
me a gasping, panting mess. Not during our evenings when his strong
fingers pried apart my legs so that he might feast upon my quivering
wetness. And not in the middle of the night, when his dark eyes burrowed
into mine while his powerful arms held me firmly beneath him, his fist
pulling my hair like a rider pulls at his mount’s reins until my voice grew
hoarse from screaming.

I had never been so fulfilled yet empty at the same time. I welcomed the
closeness of his body, the sound of moans that poured from his lips, and the
light graze of his teeth as he nibbled his way down my neck and breast and
thighs. Yet there was one thing that he continued to deny me.

One thing that I craved yet could never have.

He never allowed me to look upon him. He denied me the affection that I

longed for, preferring to always enter me from behind. And always, the
lingering emptiness would inevitably fade. And in its place was an
indescribable shame.

I felt used. Yet each time when his touch—rough, insistent, and gentle all at
once—reached me, I found myself craving him.

It was maddening.

The shower spray thundered on the other side of the closed door, and I
contemplated joining him for once. I wanted to see the water running down
in rivulets over his exquisite, hard body. I wanted to touch him the way he
touched me. To make him succumb to me like he made me succumb to him.

I should hate him. I wanted to hate him.

But somehow, he always found a way to dispel my hate and turn it into lust.

It isn’t fair…Groaning, I pushed my own face into the pillow. I hated this
endless cycle of my thoughts. The shower shut off. A minute later, Aleksey
stepped out of the bathroom, body naked and glistening as he strode to the
deep walk-in closet.
“Will you be home for dinner?” I asked, drawing up to a seated position on
the bed.

“I should be,” he said, but his eyes never met mine.

Clearing my throat, I smoothed the covers around me. “I’ll have dinner on
the table at our usual time then.”

Aleksey shrugged on his dress shirt, his fingers deftly buttoning the buttons.
“That will be fine.”

That was how it was between us. At best cordial, otherwise cold and
unfeeling for a newlywed couple. The only time the ice thawed between us
was when he held me under him. A pit of worry formed in my stomach.

Was this what the rest of my life would be?

Aleksey finished dressing and slipped on his shoes. “Have a good day,
Elia.”

“You too,” I muttered softly as he walked out of the bedroom. Once he was
gone and I was alone, I slid back under the covers, gazing blankly at the
ceiling.

I reached for my phone and dialed Lana’s number. Other than a few texts, I
hadn’t been in touch with her since my wedding day. She had been worried,
of course, and constantly asked if I wanted to take her up on her original
offer. If only she knew of how addicting Aleksey could be.

“You’re alive,” she said by way of greeting. “I was starting to think you
were at the bottom of the Chicago River. How’s everything going?”

“Well, it’s definitely going.” I sighed as I swung my legs off the bed and
walked into the living room. In the corner, Aleksey’s men stood like statues,
pretending not to pay attention to me. But I knew they were waiting to
report anything unusual back to him.
In many ways, I was still a prisoner. No matter how good the sex was.

“Remind me to never go down that path,” she said.

“If I’m being honest,” I sighed. “It’s a two out of five.”

“Only two?” Lana mused, humor lacing her voice. “Is he a bad fuck or
something?”

“No, that’s the thing.” I sighed, leaning against the wall. “That’s all we ever
do, Lana. But he doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t kiss me. It just feels…
impersonal. Like I’m a whore, and not his wife. You know what I mean?”

And there it is…I thought. That was really what bothered me every time
Aleksey pulled out of me. That was the source of my emptiness. The source
of my shame. I was married to Aleksey, but I would never have his love.

Do I even want his love?

She was silent on the other end as she processed my words. Finally, she
asked, “Is he hurting you?”

“No,” I quickly replied. “No, he’s not hurting me.” At least, not physically.

“Did he ever give you a reason?”

“No,” I answered, as I paced the floor. I leaned against the island. “I just
wish it was different.”

“Elia,” Lana said gently. “You were forced into marriage to a man whom
you swore to hate. It’s already different enough.”

She wasn’t lying. I was supposed to hate Aleksey. No, I did hate him. He
had butchered my brother, the one person that I cared about over anyone
else. The one person who meant the world to me. Now, each night, he used
me like a whore.
And like a whore, I allowed him to. Because what else could I do? There
was no way I could defy him. And even if I wanted to, my body betrayed
me each time he so much as ran his finger over my skin. A single caress
was all it took for my legs to slowly part for him. Almost as if he’d
conditioned me in these last three weeks to respond like that. Was this all
just another part of his plan? Would this all cease once his child was
growing inside of me? Would I be left to my misery alone once I gave him
what he wanted?

I didn’t want to think about that.

“You’re right,” I said stiffly. “I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t let him even
touch me. But Lana…”

“Yeah?”

I had to tell her the truth. I couldn’t hide that from her. “I like it,” I
whispered. There, I had said it. I had said it and made it real.

This time, her silence was even longer than the last. Finally, she sighed.
“Oh, honey…I really wish I could get you out of this. Have you found
anything at all that I could use? Because liking being fucked by your
husband isn’t exactly a winning argument I can use.”

I let out a little laugh at her remark, feeling a hint of life returning to me.
“Don’t worry about me, Lana. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s literally my job to worry about you,” Lana corrected me. “Well, more
correctly, to worry about your husband. Never forget who he is, Elia. All
that good dicking won’t change the fact that he’s a black-hearted bastard
through and through.”

“I know, Lana,” I replied. “Trust me. I know.”

“Look, you’re a strong-ass woman, all right?” she told me. “If you want
something bad enough, you gotta reach out and grab it by the throat.”
I laughed for what felt like the first time in three weeks. It was nice to hear
her voice again.

“I mean it, Elia. Don’t hesitate to go after what you want.”

We spent the rest of the morning catching up. She told me about another
batch of criminals that were getting fast-tracked from arrest to prison in
New York. I was glad that at least one of us seemed to be moving forward
in our lives. But above all else, I was glad to have someone on my side who
would listen.

The elevator dinged behind me and I saw Aleksey emerge, his phone
pressed to his ear. “I have to go,” I told her quickly and hung up before she
could answer.

But Lana’s voice echoed in my head as my gaze followed after my husband.

Don’t hesitate to go after what you want.

The only trouble is, Lana…I thought to myself. What do I really want?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Sixteen
Elia

Aleksey’s eyes met mine, and my heart leaped to my throat. My entire body
tingled in anticipation at his gaze, and there was a part of me that wanted to
rip the suit off his body and work my way down until he was panting under
my touch.

I wanted to own my husband’s body just as much as he owned me.

Don’t hesitate to go after what you want.

Things were going to change, starting now.

Aleksey hung up his phone and dropped it into his suit’s inner pocket.

“Wife,” he said flatly.

“Husband,” I answered. “Back so soon?”

“Does that displease you?” he asked slowly, his hard eyes roving over the
wrap dress I had put on after he had left.

His words didn’t even bother me. I was used to this by now. “No, it’s just
surprising,” I finished, turning back to the island. “If I’d known, I would’ve
made lunch.”

His hand found its way to my hip, and I sucked in a breath. Focus, Elia.
Don’t just give in.

“I had something else in mind that I wanted to eat,” he murmured into my

ear, his warm breath causing my skin to shiver in response.

I pressed my body against his strong form, feeling the heat searing me as it
rose insistently against my ass. The thin fabric separating us might as well
not be there. It would be easy for him to lift my dress and have his way with
me right where we stood. In fact, I had a feeling that was exactly what he
wanted.

But it wasn’t what I wanted. I craved something else.

I spun in his arms and met his gaze head on.

“No,” I started, searching his eyes. “I want you to look at me, Aleksey. I
want you to kiss me. I don’t want my face to be buried in a pillow next
time. I don’t want you to use me like you’d use a whore. Impersonal and
cold. I am your wife, and I want to feel wanted by my husband.”

Aleksey’s eyes grew darker as I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling
the steady thump of his heart. “Prove that to me, Aleksey.”

His hand took hold of my jaw. “Do not toy with me, Elia.”

A bubble of laughter escaped me as my heart thundered against my chest.

This show of defiance, however small, was enough to goad me into doing
something more. A new boldness seemed to have taken hold of me, and I
pressed on.

“I haven’t toyed with you,” I said, refusing to divert my gaze from his.
“I’ve been honest with you from day one. I swore I would never love you,
and yet you left me begging for you on our wedding night. You leave me
wanting you every night when you hold me in your arms. I want more than
that.”

I searched his eyes for the monster that I imagined him to be and felt my
frustration rise when that monster never looked back. It would have been so
much easier if it had. It would have made it easier for me to hate him.
Instead, as I stared into his blank, handsome face, all I felt was an
impossible hunger for him.

“I want to know.” Clutching his shirt in my hand that he still held, I felt the
heat rolling off his body. “Am I your wife? Or am I your whore?”
He dropped his hand from mine, trapping me in the cage between his arms
as he gripped the island behind me. The distance between us narrowed, and
I felt his bulge push against the hem of my dress, teasing at my entrance.

“Don’t push me,” he said softly, his voice soft and silky.

“Or you’ll what?” I asked defiantly. I felt a pulse of pleasure shoot through
me in that moment as I pushed against him. There was a power that I never
knew I had over him. I could feel it. I wanted to keep pushing against him,
because a part of me wanted to see what he would look like when he lost
control.

“What could you possibly do to me that you haven’t already done?” I

whispered.

He growled low in his throat, and I could see his pulse racing on the side of
his neck just above his collar. I could do this, I told myself. I was doing this.
I was pushing his buttons the way he had pushed mine.

“Kiss me,” I challenged, whispering. “I dare you.”

For a moment, Aleksey looked as if he was going to back away. But then
his hands reached up to take hold of my face and brought me up at the same
time his head dipped down. His lips crashed into mine as he captured my
mouth in a kiss that was equally feral and possessive. His tongue forced its
way through my parted lips and found mine. I tasted him, lost myself in his
intoxicating scent, and stood on my tiptoes as my lips parted to invite him
deeper. Desire swirled around me, cocooning me like a warm blanket.

My surprise lasted only a few seconds before I was sliding my hands up

around his neck and kissing him back, meeting his tongue like I met his
cock when he thrust it into my body.

There was no softness in his kiss, but I didn’t care. My husband was finally
kissing me, and my heart thundered in approval as I fell deeper into it.
His lips bruised mine and I nipped at his tongue lightly, grazing it with my
teeth to egg him on. I felt his hands on my hips and he lifted me onto the
island, never once breaking the connection between us. Aleksey stepped
between my legs, his hands finding my face and framing it to hold me in
place.

His warmth slid over me as we melted into each other, nipping and sucking
until he finally broke away. His chest was heaving just as much as mine
was. My strong, powerful husband looked rattled, his lips red from my
assault on them.

“Why did you marry me?” he asked.

Surprised, I swallowed a few times to pull myself together.

“I had no choice.” Had he lost his mind with that kiss? He knew exactly
why I had married him.

“No,” he bit out, thrusting his hand through his hair. “Why did your father
send you to marry me?”

“Do you think I have that much influence over my father?” I let out a small,
mirthless laugh. “I’m nothing but a pawn in his games. This has always
been the plan for me.”

The truth was: if it hadn’t been Aleksey, it would have been someone else
that would have taken his place. This was always going to be my destiny.
And for what it was worth, it could have been a hell of a lot worse, all
things considered.

My husband continued to stare at me, dumbstruck. Did he not realize that I

wasn’t lying to him? Surely he—the heir of his father’s Bratva—knew the
unfair burden placed upon women of Mafia families. Surely he knew that
we never had a say in our futures. Surely he knew that his own sister would
stand in my place one day, begging her own husband to kiss her and prove
to her that she was a wife who was to be treasured and loved.
What had he thought? Did he think I was some sort of spy for my father?
The heat and triumph that I had felt so recently died away, and in their place
was cold dread. Was this why he refused to kiss me? Did he not trust me?

“What do you think I felt on that day when I learned of our marriage?” I
asked. My voice was low and even. “When I was told that I would spread
my legs for the man who murdered my brother?”

My voice caught with the last word, but I swallowed the emotion. No. Fuck
this. I wasn’t about to cry in front of him. “Or that I would grow to crave
your touch, knowing those same hands had been stained with my brother’s
blood?”

Aleksey was very still, his expression shuttered once more, but I couldn’t
help but press on. He needed to know that this wasn’t my choice. He would
never have been my choice if I ever had one.

“How would you feel,” I continued, “if your sister was forced to fuck your
murderer?”

“Stop it,” Aleksey growled.

“I’m just telling you the truth.” I shook my head, sliding off the island.
“That is all I’ve done with you. You are supposed to be my enemy,” I said,
leveling my gaze at him. “And somehow, you became the man who vowed
to protect me for the rest of my life.”

Aleksey moved quickly, his lips covering mine, and I succumbed to another
kiss, though far gentler than the last we had just shared. When he broke
away, he rested his forehead on mine.

“No more,” he said softly as I struggled to catch my breath. “What’s done is

done. We don’t need to fight with each other about things we can’t control.”

His words were surprising given the last few weeks, but I couldn’t find it in
my heart to reply right now. Something was on the verge of breaking inside
me, and I didn’t want him to see me weak.
I didn’t want him to think that I needed him. I was stronger than he thought.
I wanted to be stronger than he thought.

When Aleksey turned away, I didn’t stop him. Instead, I watched his broad
back as it disappeared down the hallway. I had gotten what I wanted in his
kiss, but would I get anything else from him?

Would I ever have a time when I didn’t want him to touch me?

Hours later, I lay in bed, my legs open in anticipation and wondering where
we would go from earlier. I had told him what I wanted, but his words
haunted me.

Why did your father send you to marry me?

Was he also a pawn in this game? Were we both being manipulated? Forced
to dance like marionettes on strings tugged by some unseen masters? Did he
not have the power to change this marriage contract when his father died?
He was the head of the Korolev Bratva. He could have undone this
marriage with the snap of his fingers. And though I didn’t want to admit it, I
couldn’t help but be curious.

He knew who I was and knew the day that he had been presented with the
contract.

Yet he had gone through with it. Why?

My thoughts scattered as he joined me in bed but didn’t reach for me. I

dared to breathe. He wasn’t going to have sex with me tonight.

Why? His words, his actions, were starting to drive me crazy, and I didn’t
know if I exactly liked it.

Had something changed between us?

And if so, had it changed for the better?

Or was I on the precipice of something far, far worse?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seventeen
Aleksey

“So? Do you think that her father is in on some sort of plan with our
uncle?”

I watched as my sister’s gaze narrowed, looking up from the plate of pasta I

was distracting her from. “I don’t know, Alyosha. Have you thought about
asking your wife?”

Frowning, I picked up my glass of wine, swirling it around carefully. The

restaurant was owned by a family friend, and it was always the choice for
Alya’s dinners with me.

“I have asked her,” I said, irritated. “And she denied knowing anything
about a plan other than what was in the contract.”

“Then there it is.” My sister waved her fork at me. “Maybe she’s not hiding
things from you. If she wanted to kill you to avenge her brother, she
would’ve done it by now. Why drag it out for this long?”

My frown deepened, and I placed my wineglass back on the table without

drinking from it. The events of the previous night were still tugging at my
mind. Elia’s words had surprised the hell out of me. Just when I thought
that everything was as it should be between us. She didn’t want to be
fucked and left alone, as I had been doing. Somehow, this farcical marriage
of ours had become real in ways I never expected.

She had goaded me into kissing her. And the moment I did, everything
changed. It was one thing to fuck her emotionlessly from behind without
seeing her face and only hearing her moans. But it was quite another to
have her lips against mine, to taste her mouth on mine, and to feel her own
hunger.

It opened up feelings I didn’t want to deal with, feelings I didn’t want to

have for her. She had been chosen for me, not by me.
“Be serious, Alya,” I told my sister sharply. “I think Uncle Misha is up to
something.”

Alya rolled her eyes, clearly not intimidated by the tone of my voice. “You
sound like Father when you say things like that. Has anyone told you how
annoying that is?”

“Do not compare me to him.”

“Fine,” she sighed, placing her fork on the table. “But for the record,
Alyosha. Father was devious and crafty. You? Not so much. So don’t flatter
yourself.”

A laugh escaped me. “Dear sister, I’m afraid you don’t know me at all.”

“I know you too well,” she retorted. “And I can tell that you need to focus
on taking this marriage and making something out of it instead of worrying
about Uncle Misha. If he’s up to something, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.
But you have a wife to take care of, a wife whose forgiveness you still need
to earn. Focus on that.”

I didn’t ask for this. Elia would say the same thing if she heard Alya’s
advice. She hadn’t asked for this. She hadn’t made the conscious decision to
marry me. I was the last person on her list to consider.

“This marriage is a contract, nothing more,” I said. “And there was no way
for me to rip it up without sending our reputation down the drain.”

“Oh, come on, Alyosha!”

Alya liked to get ridiculous romantic notions from time to time, and there
was no way in hell I was going to let her have one about me and Elia. But I
couldn’t deny the passion between us. It wasn’t just the kiss either. Elia was
a perfect match for me in bed, and I was eager to exploit what we could do
under the covers.
“This isn’t a fairy tale,” I reminded her. “It’s a business contract, nothing
more. A business contract that makes no sense, but a contract nonetheless.
I’m duty-bound to honor it. You know this.”

“You put all your thoughts into worrying about all the wrong things.” My
sister smirked. “All you have to do is to be a good husband to your wife,
Alyosha. That’s all. Why bother yourself with thoughts of these endless
schemes?”

Because if I don’t, Uncle Misha walks away with everything that should be
mine. And then nobody will be safe. I wanted to yell at my sister, but I held
my tongue.

This whole thing had been forced by my uncle’s hand for a reason. I wasn’t
blind to the fact that he wanted something out of this union. For that reason
alone, I had to keep my guard up. I had to be vigilant.

But Elia’s face kept popping up unbidden in my mind. When she told me
she was nothing more than a pawn in her father’s game, something in me
wanted to believe her. What if she was telling the truth? What if she really
didn’t know anything? What then?

“Besides,” Alya continued, popping a piece of bread into her mouth and
chewing. “Elia is a Tarallo even if she carries our name. She isn’t about to
forget what you did to her brother, and you won’t make it better by being an
asshole to her.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eighteen
Aleksey

I sat in my office, the glass of whiskey half-finished and long forgotten as I

pondered everything in my head.

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew that Alya was right. A part of me
wanted to continue to treat Elia indifferently. By all rights, we shouldn’t
even be in the same room together. And as much as I felt her hunger in the
way she met my kiss, I wasn’t about to start letting down my guard with
her. Alya might believe that Elia wasn’t about to kill me in my sleep, but I
was not as naïve.

But she was just as resigned to our inseparable union as I was. Just as
resigned to the fact that happiness in marriage wasn’t something either of us
had in our vocabulary. Elia had been raised just like Alya and I had. Power
was the only currency that we traded in, and marriages like ours were how
power multiplied.

But still, why make a union between two feuding families? Two feuding
families that would have preferred never to cross paths again?

Suddenly I wished that Father was still alive. I wanted him to explain his
plan to me. He knew what I had done to the Tarallo heir. He knew I had
killed Luca Tarallo. Yet if Uncle Misha was to be believed, Father still
wanted me tied to Elia.

If Uncle Misha is to be believed, a voice whispered in my head.

I fucking hated it. I hated not knowing what plans were coming down the
pipe, and something told me my wife felt the same way.

Still, I had woken this morning with her taste still on my lips. The kiss that
had fucking wrecked me last night left me wondering what the hell I really
did want from her.
Could this marriage turn into something meaningful? Could Alya be right in
thinking that Elia would one day move past the fact that I had taken her
brother’s life and see me as someone important in her life?

What do you think I felt on the day when I learned of our marriage? When I
was told that I would spread my legs for the man who murdered my
brother?

Those words continued to haunt me. Because I knew that there was no way
that I could be someone she would forgive.

Let alone someone she could love.

I straightened my legs and grabbed my cell phone, thumbing through the

numerous texts and emails that commanded my attention. Just because I
wasn’t in New York anymore didn’t mean that I wasn’t still dealing with the
fallout that was happening there.

There was always something to handle, deals to negotiate, and people to

keep in line. Lana Keller and the DA’s office were cracking down hard all
across New York. More and more organizations were being swept aside and
broken up in Berkowitz’s ruthless fight to stamp out crime. It would have
been admirable if I didn’t run the risk of becoming their main target once
they’d taken out the loud, the brazen, and the dumb.

And while I trusted Father’s brigadiers and people like Boris to do their
jobs without attracting attention, I couldn’t help feel just a little paranoid
about everything.

My father used to say paranoia was a weakness that I would understand one
day, but I reminded him that I was just like him. He always kept tabs on
even the smallest details. He was the one who would randomly show up to
ensure that his orders were being carried out to the letter.

And I hated it. I fucking hated his interference, as if he didn’t trust me

enough to do the job myself. From an early age, he had taught me how to
become him. Yet he had never once trusted that I could actually do it.
And now he was gone. I had put my blood and sweat into my time in New
York, and I wasn’t about to let my uncle come in and fuck up what I had
built. There were things I had done to ensure our family’s survival, to
cement my legacy on the way to the top.

But New York was the least of my worries. Now that Uncle Misha was
about to marry my mother, the game continued to change. He had married
me off to Elia for a reason. A reason that he would profit from, not me. I
was sure of it.

I continued to ruminate as I left my office, got in the car, and headed back
home.

Tapping my phone on my leg the whole way, I watched the skyline of

Chicago—familiar yet utterly alien due to my time away—pass by the
window. Elia had sworn that she was nothing more than a pawn in the same
game I had been thrust into.

But could I trust her? Could I trust that she hadn’t been placed in my life to
fuck me over? Or worse yet, to kill me?

I didn’t know. I really didn’t know, and that was what bothered me. This
whole thing was rapidly turning into a ball of yarn that had no easy way to
disentangle.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I mentally made a list of what could happen
if I decided to throw caution to the wind and trust her. Maybe we could pull
something out of this relationship. Maybe we could do more than just be a
good fuck.

Because if I didn’t, then nothing would change. That was for sure.

But at the same time, our arrangement was the one constant in my life. Both
of us knew what to expect from each other. Neither of us had surprises. At
least, none that were plainly visible. And if nothing else, I needed some
stability in my life right now.
There was hardly anyone that I could trust other than Boris, but Boris
couldn’t be near me all the time. Especially not here in Chicago, when he
had other responsibilities.

A small chuckle escaped me. Maybe it was appropriate for me and Elia to
be together, never trusting each other. Maybe we had more in common than
we thought.

When I entered the darkened penthouse, I pulled off my coat and removed
my guns as I made my way to the bedroom, pausing at the doorway.
Moonlight spilled in from the floor-to-ceiling windows and lit up the
woman that occupied my thoughts far too much these days.

Elia was asleep, her hands tucked under her head and the sheet baring her
shoulders. My cock stirred to life as I took a step inside the bedroom before
I found myself faltering. I didn’t need her tonight.

No, that wasn’t true. I fucking needed her like the very air I breathed. Any
time I was in the same room with her, I wanted her clothes off and her wet
pussy wrapped around me. The need to have her bare skin touching mine
was like a drug that I was hopelessly addicted to.

At first I had thought it was just because she was a good fuck. But now, I
realized that it must be something else.

Something more.

Backing out of the bedroom, I stalked back down the hallway to the living
room. I wouldn’t wake her tonight. I needed to think through this
relationship between us and figure out what the hell I wanted out of this
marriage first.

After pouring myself a drink, I stepped out onto the balcony, letting the
evening breeze ruffle my hair. The city was alive beneath me, the steady
stream of headlights painting the streets like a pair of dueling snakes.
I had no reference point for a marriage that wasn’t a business transaction.
Mother was always drunk, and Father had ignored her to the best of his
abilities.

It was no secret that neither of them was faithful. They at least had had the
common courtesy not to bring their latest flings home at the same time.
That was the one and only rule they both abided by.

I didn’t want that in my life. Hell, I would rather be single than be in a

miserable relationship with someone I couldn’t stand to be around.

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I rubbed a hand over my face. My rapidly

growing feelings for Elia were clouding my own judgment.

Maybe Alya was right, I thought amusedly as I drained the whiskey in a

gulp. Maybe I should re-evaluate my thoughts when it came to my wife.
After all, she was my wife and the mother of my future children, whether I
liked it or not.

And for all I knew, she might already pregnant this moment, given how
much sex we’d been having since our wedding.

But where to start? I asked myself. And the frightening truth was: I didn’t
know.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nineteen
Elia
Two Weeks Later

I tipped my head up to the sun and closed my eyes, feeling the wind tug at
my clothing and hair. I had given up long ago trying to tame it here in
Chicago, allowing it to blow around my head however it wanted to. I
probably would pay for it later on when I tried to detangle the knots, but
today was just so perfect that I wasn’t going to worry about it.

Opening my eyes, I took in the presence of my husband a few feet away,

commanding the sailing boat like he had been doing it all his life. Aleksey
was dressed down in a T-shirt and khaki shorts, with a pair of dock sliders
on his feet. His sunglasses kept his eyes hidden, but it wasn’t hard to see
that he was totally in his element right now. The huge, relaxed grin on his
face gave that away.

I had never seen him so happy as this, so not himself.

“What?”

His deep voice carried in the wind, and my cheeks burned that he had
caught me staring at him.

“Nothing,” I replied. “It’s just, you look so comfortable behind that wheel.”

“It’s because I am,” he said confidently. “I’ve been doing this since I was a
young boy, Elia. You are safe with me.”

“I’m not worried about my safety,” I laughed, knowing full well that he
could either protect me or throw me over the side of the boat at a whim.
Which one he would choose to do was still up in the air, if I were being
totally honest.

We still kept so much hidden from each other. Even after all these weeks of
being married, this was the first time that I had learned he enjoyed
something like sailing. Our conversations were still limited to the
necessities, such as what we were doing that day or if we had been
successful in our day.

Now the sex, on the other hand, was as hot as ever. After our discussion—
more like demands—Aleksey no longer took me from behind without
emotion. Now, we explored a variety of different positions together.

And we were no longer satisfied with limiting our activities to the bedroom
either.

But it wasn’t the variety that I reveled in. It was his kisses. The man could
kiss, each one curling my toes without much effort. And it was when we
kissed that I finally felt like a newlywed who couldn’t get enough of her
husband.

Today was one of those days, and I planned to take full advantage of it.
When Aleksey had suggested we go sailing this morning, I had been
surprised. He was always so busy with work that I rarely saw him.

And he’d never asked me to join him anywhere.

It was a request that had come out of the blue, that was for sure. And given
the palpable mutual suspicion between us, I immediately thought that there
must have been an underlying plan he had. But so far, he seemed content in
sailing.

His actions were confusing me.

“Something to drink?”

I looked up to find him standing before me. “Just some water, thanks,” I
answered as he handed me a bottle while he took a beer for himself.

He sat down next to me, stretching his long legs out before him.

“Why did you leave Chicago?” I asked. “You seem to really like it here.
Why would you leave?”
He took several swallows of his beer, dangling the bottle between his
fingers as the boat bobbed with the small waves.

“My father,” he finally said, his eyes on the water. “He wanted me to go to
New York to oversee operations there.”

Oh. So he had been following orders. I knew that all too well.

“We all follow orders from our fathers,” I said slowly, feeling a small
kinship to my husband. “The pawn reached her level of worth, and I was
taken off the board.”

“Is that what you think?” He arched a brow. “That you were put on Earth
just for this, Elia?”

God, the way he said my name it immediately made my insides quiver. Just
last night he had whispered it into my ear as he drilled into me. I wasn’t
sure how I felt, but it was a different feeling than the usual ones I had for
him. My feelings were starting to be all jumbled up.

I could no longer sustain myself with a cool indifference for him. Not
anymore. Intrigue slowly made its way into the way I looked at him. And
now all I wanted was to know more about him.

“Of course not,” I replied, sighing. “It’s hard to put into words.” I had done
exactly what my father wanted, not that I had much of a choice, but I had
my own hopes and dreams. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to lose myself in
something other than my family’s criminal organizations. I wanted to make
the world a better place. Not just tear it all down like my father would.

I wanted to find someone who could fulfill all the requirements of a

husband and not just be at my side because he was forced to do so.

I looked away, saying nothing. But somehow, I felt that Aleksey understood
me without any words.
Finally, he broke the silence. “You’re tired of being controlled.”

His words surprised me. “How did you know?”

“Because that was what my father did by sending me to New York,” he

answered. “It was his way of controlling me. You and I aren’t that different,
Elia. We’ve always craved control in our lives, having lived with so little of
it.” His dark eyes stared back at me. “You know, for what it’s worth, I didn’t
intentionally set out to kill your brother.”

It was the first time he had brought Luca up to me, and my heart skipped a
beat. Suddenly, I found myself filled with shame for being at his side. I was
ashamed that I had craved—practically begged—for him to kiss me.

Damn it all! And damn him! I thought bitterly. With a single statement so
carelessly thrown out, he had ripped open a wound that I nearly fooled
myself into thinking was closed. I was rudely brought back to my cruel
reality.

This man had butchered Luca. Left him dead in the streets… and yet I now
allowed him to put his hands on me. I had allowed him to open me. To
claim me.

And perhaps the worst part of it all: I had allowed myself to want him, his
kiss, and his touch.

I wrapped my arms around myself, unsure of what I might say. My heart

fought against itself. Waves of self-loathing crashed against me, reminding
me of what I had done in my moment of weakness.

“Elia?” Aleksey’s voice sounded far away, but there was something else
there. Something that bade me to respond.

“What do you mean?” I finally mustered the strength to ask.

“It’s an unwritten agreement,” Aleksey explained, his eyes on me. “Sons of

Mafia families do not kill each other, not when they are the heirs. Once we
step into our fathers’ shoes, then it’s no- holds-barred. But until then, we are
to hold our gentleman’s agreement.”

I had never heard this, but then again, I had been the forgotten child up until
Luca’s death, in the eyes of my father, anyway. My future had already been
mapped out, so he hadn’t paid that much attention to me.

“Your brother was fearless, Elia.” Aleksey sipped his beer. “Luca always
had to be at the forefront of the fight. He always wanted to be on the front
line. He was different from other heirs.”

Tarallos are made of stronger stuff. His words echoed in my mind. Pride
and sadness filled me at the same time.

Aleksey was right. Luca would pitch a fit when my father would yell at him
for even getting the slightest cut on his body. I couldn’t remember how
many times I had listened to their arguing. Luca always told my father that
if he wasn’t willing to spill his blood, then he had no right to ask his men to
do the same. The arguments always ended the same way. Father would slap
Luca clean across the face, and Luca would promptly ignore him.

“It was my fault,” my husband continued, his voice growing softer. “I went
after one of your father’s clubs in New York without thinking that your
brother would show up, ready to fight. And when he came in, racing at the
front of the men, it was inevitable. One of us was bound to leave the other
dead in the street.”

I swallowed the sudden rush of tears that crowded my eyes. I wasn’t sure if
I believed that Aleksey was telling the truth. But hearing that it wasn’t a
cruel targeted hit, but an almost boyish need to be the biggest man on the
playground, somehow cracked the hardened shell around my heart. I had
worn the anger, the bitterness, and the hurt for so long that I had never once
tried to find out the details of that horrid day.

I had longed for the day that I might look Aleksey face to face and make
him pay for what he had taken from me.
Yet right now, hearing his confession, vengeance seemed to be the last thing
on my mind.

“I know you have every right not to believe me,” he finished. “And I don’t
expect you to do so immediately, but I wanted you to know.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, the familiar heaviness pressing on my chest no

longer that of revenge but of the worry that I might actually believe him.

Aleksey finished his beer before pushing himself to a standing position.

“You should ask your father about Luca’s pin.”

My head shot up, and I looked at him. “A pin?”

He nodded, placing the empty bottle in the small trash can underneath the
seats. “The pin with a demon face.”

I couldn’t breathe, clutching my bottle tightly. The pin Aleksey referred to

was one that I had given my brother when he was fifteen. It had been a gag
gift, a stupid pin I had bought with my own money because I thought it
looked cool. Luca laughed when I gave it to him, and despite my father’s
objections, he had chosen to wear it every day, pinned to his lapel like a
badge of honor.

When we had gotten Luca’s remains back, the pin hadn’t been with his
belongings and I had just assumed it was taken from him, like a sick trophy.

Now Aleksey was telling me that he had seen the pin?

“Why should I ask my father?” I forced out, fighting through the emotion.

“Because I sent it back to your father,” he replied, his eyes on me. “As an
apology. Your brother wasn’t wearing his coat when he came at me, and I
found it pinned to his lapel. I thought it must’ve been terribly important if
he wore it into a fight. I thought that you might want to bury him with it
since it seemed to be important.”
I stood up so quickly that my feet slipped on the deck, and Aleksey had to
grab at me to keep me from going overboard.

“What is it?” he asked urgently, what looked like true concern on his face.
“What’s wrong?”

“I gave my brother that pin,” I answered, my voice thick with emotion. I

could no longer fight the tears. “But Father had Luca cremated. We never
buried him. And I never saw that pin again.”

It had been at the insistence of my father. He hadn’t wanted me to have a

place to grieve, a place to visit my brother. He claimed it was so that no one
would desecrate Luca’s resting place. But I didn’t believe him. And now he
kept Luca’s ashes in his study, the one place he knew I wouldn’t go unless
summoned.

Aleksey looked down at me before his hands came up to frame my face. I

gasped at the sudden contact of his warm hands on my wind-chapped skin,
but more so because he was touching me so tenderly and not because we
were about to have sex.

“I wouldn’t lie about this,” he said, his eyes searching mine, for what, I
wasn’t sure. “I know what family, true family, means.”

Heaven help me, I believed him. I believed that he cared for his sister like I
had cared for my brother. A sibling bond was far more important than any
parental bond in my opinion.

“Okay,” I finally said, bringing my own hands up to cover his. “Okay.”

Something in Aleksey’s eyes shifted before he leaned down and brushed his
lips over mine once, then twice before stepping away back to the wheel of
the boat. “Sit back,” he told me. “Enjoy the sunset, Elia.”

So I did, watching as the rays pierced the air as Aleksey steered the boat
back to the harbor.
 ***

After the boat was secure, we walked back to the waiting car. There had
been no guards accompanying us today, which had surprised me. I thought
that he would always have someone present, but when he led me to the
sleek black sports car instead, I knew it was just going to be us wherever he
was taking us.

I was grateful for the break, and after what he had told me today, I was glad
that it had only been the two of us out there on the water. He opened the
door and I slid into the leather interior, placing my bag at my feet. I felt
relaxed, and it was a strange feeling.

Aleksey climbed into the driver’s seat and we took off toward the city, the
smell of the water still clinging to our clothing. “Did you enjoy today?” he
asked after a few moments.

“I did,” I admitted, clasping my hands in my lap. “Thank you.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been out on the water,” he replied, his hand
resting on his leg. “We used to go out all the time when Alya and I were
kids.”

“Why do you call her Alya?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I thought her
name was Alyona. At least, that’s what my father’s file about your family
said.”

A hint of a smile crossed his face. “It’s a Russian name thing. Diminutives.
A nickname, I guess you could say. These are the names that are reserved
for family and a few close friends.”

“And yours?” I asked. “What is your diminutive?”

“Alyosha,” he stated, the word rolling off his tongue like honey. “You may
call me by that name if you would like, Elia.”
I thought about the olive branch he was extending to me. “I think I like
Aleksey better,” I finally said. “It sounds more regal.”

“Whatever you want,” he said, reaching over to grasp my hand in his. “I

don’t have a preference either way.”

I looked down at his hand before I interlaced our fingers together, my heart
racing at the touch of his skin against mine. The last time we’d done so was
at our engagement ceremony. There, we had tried to crush each other’s
fingers.

But now?

Now there was a tenderness that we hadn’t experienced before.

We were in the middle of something we didn’t understand, couldn’t

understand, honestly, but I didn’t feel like we were enemies at this point. I
was still upset that he had killed my brother. But if what he had said was the
truth, then it brought a whole new level of complexity to this marriage.

One that wouldn’t be driven by revenge.

So I held Aleksey’s hand all the way back to the penthouse, only releasing it
when he parked the car in the garage. After a shower, we climbed into bed.

For a moment we lay there next to each other, our breathing the only sound
in the room.

When he reached for me, I didn’t try and stop him, nestling myself against
his warm, strong body with a happy sigh. His lips pressed into my hair.
“Good night, Elia,” he said, his arm tightening around my waist.

“Good night, Alyosha.” I breathed, worried about the tender feelings that
were swirling around in my body.

I didn’t want to let down my barriers, but the way that he was holding me, it
was impossible not to. I would ask my father about the pin. And if it was
true, then perhaps I could start to trust my own husband.

That was terrifying in itself. To trust someone like that, someone who was
supposed to be my enemy, was the ultimate form of weakness in my
father’s eyes.

I wasn’t sure I could go down that path.

Still, maybe there was something more between us than just this contracted
marriage. Today we had built a fragile bridge between us, finding some
common ground to start building upon.

As we drifted off to sleep, I listened to his even breathing and allowed

myself to dream just a little.

The happiness I had hoped for. Was it closer than I had imagined? Could I
be happy with him?

Could he be the very future I was looking for?

Dare I hope?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty
Aleksey

I woke to a shaft of sunlight hitting me directly in the eye and blinked to

clear my vision. Another perfect Chicago day greeted me outside the
windows, but nothing compared to the sense I felt deep inside.

It was the same feeling I had experienced for weeks since we had taken the
boating trip on Lake Michigan.

It was because of her.

Elia shifted in my arms and I gripped her tightly, not wanting to relinquish
her warm body just yet. She had proven to be far more than I could have
anticipated: intelligent, caring, and funny. But that was just the surface.
Slowly, I was starting to see her true nature emerge, both in and out of our
bed.

Our bed. I never thought I’d readily say that about someone that I was
supposed to be enemies with. She had fallen into my life without warning.
And in the weeks since our first meeting outside of the bar in Williamsburg,
it had become plainly obvious that here was where she belonged.

And now, it was becoming very difficult to imagine my life without her.

Elia murmured in her sleep, and I realized that I had been holding her too
tightly. I had no fears in life. My father had drilled it into me that my death
was an inevitability, and there was no use living in fear of the inevitable.

“Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me.” The same haunting
whisper echoed, snapping me out of my blissful reverie and sending a chill
down my spine.

One thing did terrify me. A familiar tremor ran through my fingertips and I
took in a deep breath, inhaling Elia’s familiar scent in an attempt to drive
away the ghosts whispering in my ear. The calm stillness of morning now
felt stifling.
Somehow, she’d gotten under my skin. Bit by bit, and now she was
embedded deeply in my own blackened soul. And I knew that digging her
out meant ripping myself apart.

She can’t hurt me anymore. No more than I can hurt her, I reminded myself
as I leaned down, pressing my lips to Elia’s temple.

Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I murmured against her skin. She knew nothing and
suspected nothing. Just the way I wanted it. “Did you sleep well?”

Elia stretched, still in the circle of my arms. “I did.”

I covered her body with mine, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she whispered as I pressed my cock between her
legs.

“A proper morning greeting.” I framed her face with my hands. “My lovely
wife.”

I felt her smile beneath my lips as I kissed her softly, savoring the softness
fluttering across mine. She kissed me back tenderly as her hands came up,
running along the broad expanse of my bare shoulders. Nipping at her
bottom lip, I allowed my own hand to roam down her side, cupping her bare
hip possessively. Elia had forgone wearing clothing to bed recently, and I
liked the idea of having full access whenever I wanted.

She broke the kiss with a gasp as my hand traveled between our bodies and
found her already wet.

“Have you been dreaming again?” I breathed, pressing my forehead against

hers. “About this exact moment?”

“Yes,” she sighed as my fingers touched her swollen clit.

She wanted release as badly as I did. Her slickness coated my fingers with
every stroke, and I felt her desperate need, hot and throbbing, as her hips
moved to match my rhythm.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I murmured. “Take what you want. What
you need.” I nipped her shoulder with my teeth, grazing her collarbone with
my teeth, lips, and tongue. Her breaths grew more ragged and erratic, and
her legs slowly parted.

“Put yourself inside me,” Elia gasped. “Now.”

My cock tightened painfully as I nudged her legs open, not removing my

fingers as I slid inside her warmth. She tightened around me and cried out
as pleasure overtook her.

“Fuck me,” I growled, removing my hand so I could grip her hips and angle
her higher. “Fuck me like you want me.”

Her legs tightened around mine as she met me thrust for thrust, her moans
growing louder with the familiar yet exciting motions. “Who do you belong
to?” I told her, my fingers digging into her soft skin.

“You.”

I drove myself deeper inside of her. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You.”

I claimed her lips once again, swallowing her cries of pleasure as her walls
trembled and milked my cock with need. Blood pounded in my ears as I
poured into her, my vision briefly blurring from the force of my own
pleasure. And only after my body was emptied and depleted did I slowly
roll off her and onto my back.

Elia turned and rested her head against my chest, her hand pressed over my
abdomen. “Why don’t I go and fix us some breakfast?” she asked, her nails
lightly scratching my skin. “And then maybe we can spend the day
together?”

I heard the hesitation in her voice, almost as if she didn’t know that there
wasn’t a damn thing I would rather do than to spend time with her. There
were a million things that demanded my attention, but in this moment, none
of them mattered. The only thing that mattered was the woman in my arms
and the way her fingers slowly brought life back into my spent cock.

The part of me that demanded I get to the bottom of the reason for our
marriage wanted to shut her out. It demanded that I clam up and tell her that
I didn’t have time to be with her other than now. It demanded that I harden
my heart and cast her aside.

But I couldn’t.

Elia was removing her walls, and after my own confession about her
brother, I knew that I could too.

I could become someone other than Aleksey, son of Fyodor and sworn
enemy of all Tarallos.

When she heard no response from me, she started to move away. My hand
found its way to hers, gripping her delicate fingers gently until our eyes
met. “I would love to spend the day with you.”

Her face melted into a smile that tugged at my heart. “Then I better go get
breakfast started.”

I released her from my grip and watched her climb out of bed. Her naked
form was irresistible to look at in the morning light, and I briefly considered
telling her to stay exactly that way all day. And I knew that all I had to do
was ask, and she would comply.

But I remained silent. She slipped on one of my shirts, her petite form
hidden by the fabric. She cast me one last furtive look before she walked
out of our bedroom. A savage sense of pride rushed through me.
Mine. Totally and completely mine.

By all rights, I should have felt only power and fulfillment. Yet, a sudden
sense of apprehension overcame me.

Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me. Why? Why did those words
come back to haunt me now? There must be a reason.

Swallowing the dual feelings of bewilderment and apprehension, I climbed

out of bed and grabbed some clothing myself. Was it bad that I wanted to
spend the day with my wife? The last few weeks had been good for me. No
longer was I solely focused on work, and when I was, I had someone
waiting for me at home. Elia always had a ready smile—and on most
nights, dinner waiting. And every night, she would talk about her day, and I
would actually fucking listen.

I cared about her. But maybe that was why those words came back to haunt
me.

Because there was a time when I cared. And I still remembered how caring
turned out.

Forgoing my shoes, I walked into the kitchen, where the tantalizing smells
of eggs and bacon filled the air. My stomach rumbled as I stepped behind
Elia, brushing her hair aside to place a light kiss on her neck. “How can I
help?”

“Coffee,” she answered, keeping her attention on the pans before her. “I got
this.”

Yeah, she did. She had more than she knew right now.

We sat down for breakfast shortly after that. “What do you want to do
today?” I asked her.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure. What did you have in
mind?”

I saw myself clearing the table with a single push, her legs spread open on
the table in the morning light as I feasted on the sweetness between them. In
my mind, I saw myself kissing every part of her body until I left her flushed
and trembling. Other than that, I had no other plans or thoughts.

“I know of a few places to start,” she said when I offered no suggestions.

But just then, my phone buzzed beside my plate. I picked it up, frowning as
I stared at the text from Boris.

We have a problem.

Fuck. “I have to get this,” I told Elia, standing. “Finish your breakfast.”

She didn’t respond as I walked outside on the balcony. Boris answered on

the first ring. “This better be a good problem,” I said.

“When has any problem been a good one?” he replied. “You’re missing
some payments.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The gambling ring is coming up short.” He let out a heavy sigh into the
phone. “I have been trying to figure out what happened since yesterday. So
far, I’ve either run into a wall or wound up with more questions. I figured I
might as well tell you now, so we can get a handle on things before they
become an even bigger problem.”

I ran a hand through my hair roughly. The gambling ring was a profitable
business, taking on everything from sporting events to politics. I had a few
brigadiers that were in charge of coordinating the bets from our customers
and ensuring that the proper payments were doled out once the event was
complete. The last thing I needed to hear was that we were coming up short.
“And you’re sure you found nothing?”

“I’m not an idiot, Alyosha,” he repeated. “Someone is fucking with us.”

My mouth tightened. If I had to guess who might be responsible, Uncle

Misha was definitely at the top of the list. Taking the payments from the
gambling ring for whatever use he wanted would be a quick and easy way
to keep me occupied and out of his hair.

“Come get me. We need to dig deeper.”

“I’m already on my way,” Boris replied before ending the call.

I clenched my phone in my hand, my earlier blissfulness having evaporated

into barely restrained fury. I would rather someone come at me face to face
than meddle around behind my back. Worst of all, now I was about to spend
half my fucking day tracking down whoever thought it was a good idea to
piss me off.

Turning back to the door, I spied Elia inside, sipping on her coffee. She had
seemed so happy to spend the day together. And now I was about to rip that
happiness away from her.

Well, I wasn’t about to have her sitting in the penthouse alone, waiting for
me to come back. I fired off a quick text to my sister Alya. She had already
expressed her desire to get to know Elia better. What better timing than
today?

I pulled open the door and stepped inside, Elia looking up at me the
moment I did so. “Everything okay?”

“No,” I forced out, sliding my phone into my pocket. “I apologize, but there
is an urgent matter that I must attend to.”

Her smile dimmed just a little. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” Shaking my head, I started toward the bedroom. “I have to go out.”

Elia followed me into our bedroom, watching as I searched through my
closet for my clothing.

“My sister will be here in an hour,” I explained as I pulled on a pair of

ironed dress pants. “She has been asking to spend the day with you. Feel
free to do whatever your heart desires.”

Alya knew how to spend money. She would make certain that my wife
enjoyed the same.

Elia propped herself on the doorframe, a frown marring her lovely features.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do, Aleksey?”

I shoved my guns into the holsters at my side before shrugging my coat on.
“No. But don’t worry about this. I will take care of it and be home this
evening.”

She didn’t look as if she believed me, and I walked over to her, placing my
lips against hers. Her hands reached up and fisted the lapels of my suit coat,
pulling me into a deeper kiss until I had to finally back away or she was
going to be fucked against the wall and I was going to be late.

“I will see you tonight,” I told her before exiting the bedroom.

“Aleksey.”

I turned to find her in the hallway, her arms wrapped around her waist. “Be
careful, all right?”

“Is that a hint of worry I hear?” I teased, not letting on just how much her
words had struck me to my core.

Elia gave me a little smile, and I walked to the elevator before I could
change my mind. It wasn’t until I was heading downstairs that I realized
that my marriage to Elia might be an entire end to itself. What better way to
tie me up than to have me be so preoccupied with my new wife that I would
be helpless to manage everything in the Bratva while Uncle Misha
continued to sideline me at every turn?

Had he put Elia in my life to distract me? Because it had been a smashing
success if he did. For the last few weeks, ever since I took her sailing, I
hadn’t left the penthouse much. I hadn’t been monitoring all the normal
Bratva affairs that I usually kept an eye on. And I had been content with
letting business move by itself.

Was this what Uncle Misha was betting on all along?

Well, now, I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t allow my uncle to worm his
way into everything. Not now. He thought he had the upper hand, but that
wasn’t going to be the case. Not anymore.

I figured out your game, Uncle, I thought. You thought you were being
clever. No more.

The doors opened and Boris was standing in the lobby of the building, his
eyes hidden by his dark shades.

“I want a list,” I started as we walked to the door. “Of my uncle’s

whereabouts for the last two weeks.”

“Your uncle? He’s not anywhere near the gambling rings. You know that.”

“No,” I replied. “But I have a feeling that he was behind this. If not directly,
then indirectly. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Boris replied as I slid into the car.

It was time for me to show my uncle that his plans weren’t going to work.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-One
Elia

“Ooh, I think this would be perfect on you!”

I took the dress that Aleksey’s sister, Alya, held out to me and held it up to
my body. “I don’t know. I don’t usually pick out colors like this.”

She waved a hand at me before she dragged me over to a mirror so I could

see for myself. “Yellow is your color, Elia! Trust me.”

I heaved a sigh as I looked at myself in the mirror. Alya might actually be

right about the color. It did tend to bring out my darker features, and the
dress was just a simple yellow sheath, the delicate straps seemingly too
small for the fabric.

“This is a pretty dress.”

“I knew it!” Alya laughed. “See, Elia? It’s going to pay off for you to have a
sister-in-law like me. Your wardrobe is getting a full makeover, and I won’t
accept no for an answer.”

I gave her a shy smile before she bounded back to the rack, pulling off a
few more brightly colored items. When Alya had shown up at the penthouse
this morning, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was just now starting to learn
Aleksey’s moods, how to communicate with him, and I was terrified that
his sister was just a female version of him.

That hadn’t been the case at all.

She was everything that Aleksey wasn’t. Alya seemed to be excited about
the prospect of getting me out of the penthouse, and it hadn’t taken long for
me to fall under her charm. I could see the similarities between the two
siblings, but their personalities couldn’t be further from each other.

In a way, she reminded me of Luca, who had always been the rebel between
us, the one who could stand up to our father and not worry about any sort of
backlash.

Alya was the same way, even if her father was no longer around to dictate a
future that she instinctively rebelled against. But still, I felt for her. She was
a Mafia princess, which meant that she could be in the same position I was
in just a few years. And while mine was an odd arrangement to begin with,
I hated knowing that Alya could be experiencing the same helplessness
about her own future.

Turning away from the mirror, I watched as she pulled more items from the
rack, thinking about this morning and what might have happened between
Aleksey and me. I couldn’t help the fact that I had been looking forward to
spending the day with him. The threads of who and what I was before our
marriage and my present reality had become so blurred that I wasn’t sure I
could ever pull them apart again.

I liked my husband. I was starting to care for him, starting to enjoy his
company outside of the bedroom. My entire life lit up when he smiled at
me, when he kissed me, which was a far cry from where we had been just a
few weeks ago.

It was odd. I didn’t know how to explain it.

“Elia?”

Shaking out of my thoughts, I gave Alya a smile. “Sorry. I was just lost in
my thoughts.”

She arched a brow. “Lost in your thoughts or thinking about my brother?”

I tucked my hair behind my ears, hoping like hell that my cheeks weren’t
flushed. “I, um—”

“Hey,” she interrupted, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay if you are.
I won’t judge you.”
“Things have certainly been…” I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Interesting
between us.”

“Of course they have been,” she laughed. “You are talking about my brother
here. He’s not the easiest person to get to know. But he’s certainly not
boring.”

Her shared knowledge of my husband made me laugh in return. “That’s

true. He’s not.”

“But you just have to be patient,” she added, gathering the items in her arms
to take to the register. I wasn’t sure if they were for me or her at this point,
but I guess it really didn’t matter. “It’s worth it, knowing Alyosha, I mean.
He’s the best person, and I’m not just saying it because he’s my brother and
all.”

“No one would blame you if you did,” I answered, taking the dress with me
as I followed her to the register.

Alya plucked the dress from my hands and added it to her pile before
pulling out a sleek black card. “Alyosha told me to treat you to whatever
you liked today,” she said as she handed it over to the cashier. “If he wants
me to spend his money like it’ll be gone tomorrow, then that’s fine by me.”

They were close. That was for sure. The knowledge warmed my heart.
When I first met Aleksey, he had been just the cold, cruel enemy who took
my brother away from me. Spending not only time with him but also with
his sister today had forced me to see another side of him.

And the more I saw, the harder it became to hold on to the hate. A part of
me still desperately clung to it, feeling like I was betraying my brother by
letting go. But another part of me yearned to let go, to devote myself fully
to my husband and embrace what it meant to be his forever.

Luca would have told me to live my life if he was still here. But then again,
I wouldn’t be married to Aleksey if Luca was still alive. But I couldn’t
dwell on that, could I? Because if I did, I would drive myself mad.
Alya and I gathered our purchases and headed across the street to a
charming coffee shop that had delicious lattes and wonderful homemade
pastries.

“So,” Alya started once we were seated with our afternoon snacks. “Tell me
what it’s like to be married to my brother.”

“He’s…” I tapped the side of my cup with my fingernail. “Intense.” He was

intense when he was talking and when he was fucking. There was no in-
between.

She giggled. “Because he cares about you, Elia.” She shook her head when
I gave her a quizzical look. “He does, even if you don’t believe he does.
You should have seen the way he reacted to me talking about you at our
dinner. It was cute.”

More of a reason to be so confused about this relationship between us.

“What about you?” I asked, changing the subject. “Is there someone special
in your life?”

“No.” She shook her head, the liveliness in her suddenly diminishing
slightly. “I know better than to bring anyone into my life right now.”

And there it was. The cruel reality of our lot in life. I knew exactly what she
was talking about. Our lives were already mapped out from the day we
were born. And although we might be given the illusion of choice, it would
always be just that—an illusion.

“I understand,” I told her.

“I know.” She gave me a warm smile. “Others don’t understand what it’s
like being us, do they? They don’t know what it’s like to have no control. I
don’t think even Alyosha realizes that, no matter what he tries to tell me.”

“He wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” I said, finding my words to be

true.
“Well, he might not have much of a say-so,” she sighed, picking at the
scone she had chosen. “Our uncle holds the reins of our family’s legacy.”

“But how?” I asked, a renewed sudden interest now turning in my head. “I

thought your brother was supposed to take over for your father?”

The pain in my hand returned—a reminder of how tightly Aleksey had

gripped me when he learned of his uncle’s own marriage to his mother.
Something rotten was happening here. And Alya had all but confirmed it to
me just now.

“In theory.” Alyona lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “But reality is something
else altogether. The truth is, I’m not really in the know about any of this. It
depresses me to think about it. So I don’t bother with any of it. Why worry
about something that I can’t change?”

She had a point. Why worry about it indeed? And so I let it go, knowing
that prying wouldn’t get me anywhere. The only person who might know
was Aleksey, but I was sure that even he wouldn’t have a good answer for
any of this.

“In any case,” Alya continued. “I’m just happy you are giving Alyosha a
chance. It’s good to see that he still remembers how to smile, after
everything that has happened.”

“What do you mean?” I asked lightly.

Did she know what he had done to my brother? Surely she did. It wasn’t a
secret that we were enemies. Luca was the heir to our family’s legacy. His
death had been a big deal for a number of reasons.

Something flickered in her gaze, something that told me she had said too
much. “I mean because of our father dying, of course,” she said quickly.

The tone of her voice made it hard for me to believe that was the only story.
“Is that all?”
The young woman drew in a breath, and I recognized the panic in her eyes.
She had said something she wasn’t supposed to. “Well, no…It’s not all.”

I pretended to fiddle with my cup, trying to figure out how I could get more
information from her. Aleksey was telling me nothing, and if I was going to
remain his wife, I needed to know about anything that could affect my
future with him.

“I take it that he didn’t care for your father very much,” I tried, pulling in
the knowledge I had to make the assumption.

Alya was silent for a few moments before she gave me a single nod.
“Something happened between them long ago. Something bad.”

I knew it. Inwardly I was cheering myself along, hoping that another door
in Aleksey’s secret life would be opened and I could start to understand
where he had come from.

“What was it?” I prodded.

“I don’t know,” Alya replied quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I really don’t.
But it changed my brother forever. Please don’t ask me anymore, Elia.
Please.”

The pain in her voice was so evident that I knew better than to keep
pressing. I tried to put myself in her shoes, knowing that if it was me, I
would want to hold secrets about my family close to me as well.

“And I want you to be happy,” she continued, reaching across the table to
grasp my hand. “So please don’t ask him either. Please don’t shut my
brother out. He might be difficult, but he’s completely worth the time. I
swear it.”

I felt in her words that she believed what she was saying, and I couldn’t
fault her.
Nor could I fault the fact that I wanted it to be true, and I just didn’t know
what I was going to do about it. I should hate Aleksey. I should hate him
with every fiber of my being, but with each kiss, each moment with him, I
found it harder to hate him.

I was terrified of what he could do to my heart in the end.

Or what I was willing to do for him.

“I will do my best,” I told Alya, hoping to soothe some of her worry. I was
going to find out what Aleksey’s father had done to him and what broke
Aleksey.

I just had to be smart about it.

“I think you should wear that yellow dress tonight,” she changed topics
quickly. “You look amazing in it.”

Despite all my thoughts and attempts to rationalize my feelings for Aleksey,

I blushed at the thought of having his undivided attention tonight.

After saying goodbye to Alya, I took the waiting car back to the penthouse,
lost in thought the entire way. What was it that had transpired between
Aleksey and his father? Would he tell me if I asked?

I wasn’t so sure. Aleksey was clearly a person who kept to himself, and I
was just now starting to break the ice wall around him. Besides, he
suspected that I had some other agenda by marrying him.

As if I would help my father out in any way right now. I might have
followed through with this marriage, but I wasn’t looking to destroy my
own husband.

Not anymore.

Things had changed between us. I didn’t want to be my father. I didn’t want
to think that everyone was some sort of target, some sort of pawn that he
could use to his advantage. Marrying Aleksey might have been just another
sentence at first, but now I realized it had opened doors that I hadn’t
thought about before. I had yet to tap into what the name I carried brought
to me and what it could give me in my life.

After walking into the penthouse, I headed to the bedroom and dumped the
bags on the bed, pulling out the yellow dress from its bag. It was a pretty
dress, with a V-neckline that would show off my chest. A slit ran along my
thigh, which would give Aleksey plenty to look at when he got home.

A secret thrill ran through me at the thought of him not only looking at the
dress, but also taking as long as he wanted to peel it off me. I wanted to see
that gleam in his eyes, the one that was followed by a searing kiss, or
maybe him pressing me to a random wall in the penthouse.

I fanned myself. It was easy to forget anything else when I thought about
my husband like that.

Draping the dress over my arm, I headed to the bathroom. Aleksey would
be home in a little while, and I planned on letting him see this dress in
action.

Maybe, just maybe, by doing so, I could get him to open up a little about
himself and this tension that had lived between him and his father. Was
whatever happened the reason he had gone to New York in the first place?
Was some weird twist of fate between his father and him the reason I no
longer had my brother here on Earth?

My steps faltered, and I drew in a breath. It seemed that our families had
been intertwined long before I had come into the picture and at a higher
level than I could have realized. Had Aleksey’s father sent him to kill my
brother in New York?

If so, the contract had apparently been decided for a long time, according to
my father. If that was the case, how could Aleksey’s father send his son,
knowing that at some point, he and my brother would cross paths?
Shaking my head, I continued to the bathroom, hanging the dress on the
back of the door so I could undress. There were so many holes that I needed
to fill with information so I could understand it all, and my husband was
going to be the start of my investigation. If he didn’t share anything with
me, then I would have to give him a reason to do so.

His sister was right. I didn’t want to be unhappy in my life or in my

marriage. We couldn’t have secrets between us in order to be happy.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Two
Aleksey

“Make sure that those documents are combed over,” I said as I stepped into
the lobby of the building. “And that no one breathes a word until I’m sure
that my uncle didn’t have anything to do with this.”

Boris nodded as he followed me. “Might as well put up a fucking billboard

at this point.”

I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling the weariness of the day’s events
heavy on my shoulders. I had conducted countless interviews with those
involved in an attempt to try and figure out what the hell was going on with
the missing payments. But no one seemed to know what had happened.

We weren’t talking about a couple hundred dollars here. We were talking

about hundreds of thousands of dollars, enough to be noticed. Either
someone was fucking stupid, or they wanted my attention.

Pushing the elevator button, I turned to Boris. “I need more proof.”

“Understood,” he said, nodding to the closed doors. “You going to go

anywhere else tonight?”

“No.” I thought about Elia and our ruined day together, shaking my head.
“Nowhere else.”

The shit-eating grin on his face made me want to punch him. “Don’t you
dare say a word.”

He held his hands up. “By your orders, Aleksey Fyodorovich.”

I leveled a glare at him as the doors opened and he stepped inside. “I will be
in touch.”

He gave me a salute before the doors closed, leaving me alone for the first
time since I stepped outside the penthouse this morning. What a draining
day. I had gotten nothing that would help, nothing that could even give me
the means to go after my uncle.

All I had gotten from this day was a headache and more anger than before.

Someone was trying to send me a message. And I couldn’t figure it out for
the life of me.

The doors opened and I stepped inside the penthouse; the smells of garlic
and tomato hung heavy in the air. Elia was cooking again. My stomach
rumbled. “Elia?” I called out, stripping off my coat and draping it over the
chair.

I heard her bare feet moving across the hardwood floor before she appeared
from the hallway, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’re home.”

I couldn’t move, much less speak. She looked absolutely stunning.

She had on a slip of a dress, one that showed off her shoulders and a hint of
her cleavage as well as most of her legs. Her hair was pinned up, but a
single curl dangled tantalizingly near her ear.

But it was her smile that took my breath away. I had worried about sending
her with Alya today, only because my sister could be a bit much to deal
with.

As it turned out, I should’ve been worried about myself instead.

Finding my voice, I cleared my throat. “How was your day?”

“Great,” she stated, clasping her hands before her. The movement caused
her breasts to shift and I groaned inwardly, feeling the all-too-familiar pull
on my groin as a result. How quickly could I get that dress off her body? Or
did I want her to keep it on, so that I might drink in the hint of her curves
hidden underneath it?

Decisions, decisions.
“Your sister is amazing. I think we are going to become good friends.”

My mouth suddenly went dry, and I forced myself to walk over to the bar,
hoping that she couldn’t tell the bulge in the front of my pants. My hand
actually shook as I picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured a glass,
taking a slow sip to calm myself.

“That’s good,” I finally said. “She is nothing like me.”

Elia came to stand next to me, the smell of her perfume teasing my senses.
“Did you accomplish everything you set out to do today, Alyosha?”

My name came out like a purr from her lips and I had to fight not to take
her against the wall, not to press my weary body against hers and lose
myself for a few hours. “No, I didn’t.”

Her hand rested on my arm and she forced me to look at her, concern
furrowing her brow. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

A thousand thoughts came up suddenly. What she could help me do is to

forget everything that happened today.

“I’m just looking for some missing money,” I told her instead.

Elia arched a brow. “It must be a lot to have you running out of here and
gone all day.”

“It is,” I admitted. “Someone has decided to steal from me, and I’m trying
to figure out who the fuck has the balls to do so.”

To my surprise, Elia didn’t shy away from my sudden outburst. “Did you
find anything then?” she asked, clearly concerned for my business. I guess
it was hers as well, but up until this moment, I hadn’t considered she might
actually like to know what was going on with the Mafia.

She might be an asset that I hadn’t expected to find. How much did Elia
know about her father’s business? How much did she understand it?
I hadn’t expected her to be a willing participant, but I felt that she wasn’t
just a pretty face her father held in his back pocket. She was more astute
than I gave her credit for. And her friendship with Lana Keller…No Mafia
princess could balance devotion to her family with such a close personal
relationship with someone in the DA’s office.

She was not someone to be underestimated.

There was still a lingering doubt in the back of my mind that she was
working for her father to advance some hitherto unrevealed goal. But right
now, I needed all the help that I could get.

“I didn’t find anything of consequence, no,” I finally said, figuring it was

the safest bet for now until I could play this out in my mind just a little
more. I wanted to trust her. I really did.

“Your sister,” she began after a few moments of silence, her fingers burning
through the sleeve of my shirt. “She said that you and your father didn’t
have the best of relationships.”

Fucking Alya. As much as I loved my sister, she had a big mouth

sometimes. “Who does?”

“I know I don’t,” Elia admitted.

I looked down at her. She bit her lower lip as she frequently did whenever
she was nervous around me, her vulnerability on full display before me. I
suddenly wanted to open myself up to her. I wanted to tell her all my
secrets. I wanted her to know everything my fucking father had done to me.
I wanted her to hear all the ways that I’d suffered to become the son my
father needed—the heir the Bratva needed. Somehow, she made me feel
like that with just a single stare.

It was dangerous as hell. Because it wasn’t so much that I could just trust
her with my secrets.
Could I trust that she would still want to stay with me if she knew?

No…I decided. Nobody could know. The only person who I would allow to
know this one dark secret was Boris. And even then, both of us knew better
than to speak about it so openly.

I couldn’t tell her what I had done. She could never know what Father
forced me to do. I couldn’t tell her about the monster in her bed. The
monster whom she bared herself to every night.

But if I refused to talk, Elia was going to start digging into my past. I was
sure of that. And no way in hell could I let her do that. I needed her to trust
me, which meant that I had to tell her something.

“We didn’t have the best of relationships,” I started out, deciding I could
hide the darker details of what had happened without telling her everything.
“I was his heir. He had requirements of me, of what he thought I had to be
to carry on his legacy.”

Elia didn’t remove her hand from my arm, only tightened her hold, and it
grounded me somewhat.

“He wanted to prove a point,” I continued, my thoughts drifting back to

those days long ago. “That women were only after power.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “What did he do?”

I swallowed, the words on the edge of my tongue to tell her exactly what he
made me do. It would be easy just to fucking tell her and get it over with,
but something held me back. “He set a trap,” I lied instead. “And once the
trap was sprung, he hurt me. In the worst way a father could hurt a son. He
proved his point. And forced me to pick up the pieces.”

Elia was silent, and I was glad. The anger was strumming through my veins
as I thought about what really happened and the aftermath that ensued.

Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me.

That day, I had wanted to kill my father. I wanted to end his miserable life.
Instead, I stood there, helpless, as he looked on approvingly. And when he
put his hands on my shoulders, telling me softly that I had now learned my
lesson, I felt powerless. Helpless. He forced me to do something
unforgivable and then made me feel like I was in the wrong.

As if I had ruined him.

“Is it true?”

Elia’s quiet words reached me and I forced myself back to the present,
tucking the events of that day back into the box they resided in. “What?”

“Power,” she said. “Do you really believe that women are only after power?
Or do you think it was a lie he concocted so that you would keep doing his
bidding?”

I didn’t know what to think. I had grown up in a household where power

was everything. The moment I tried to step out of line, my father forced me
right back into it, choosing the one thing that he knew he could hold over
my head. He ruined my life, shattered my soul, and broke any illusion that I
could be something other than exactly what he wanted me to be.

“It doesn’t matter,” I finally said. “The past is the past. All we can do is let
it die.”

Elia slid her hand down to remove the glass from mine, setting it gently on
the bar top before taking my hand in hers. “Come with me.”

Curious and tense from our conversation, I allowed her to take me over to
the sofa, sitting when she pushed me toward it. “What are you doing?” I
asked, my voice strained.

She climbed onto my lap, the hem of that yellow dress riding up
dangerously high on her creamy thigh. “Don’t think,” she started as her
fingers tugged at my buttons. “Don’t ask. Just relax and trust me.”
Trust…I didn’t know that word. I’d never been able to accept it. Between
my uncle, the missing money, and the confusion with this marriage, there
was nothing for me to trust.

But when her fingers worked free the buttons on my shirt and pulled it out
of my waistband, I felt the tension starting to slide from my shoulders. She
could be the anchor I had been looking for, the reason that I kept my sanity
right now.

Elia could be something important in my life.

She could make me trust again.

My shirt crumpled silently on the floor, and Elia’s delicate fingers slid up
my chest.

“Please,” she murmured as her lips found the side of my neck, her tongue
sliding up to my jawline to place small kisses along the bone. “I’m here for
you.”

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, allowing myself to forget

everything other than what Elia was doing right now. Under her touch, I felt
as if I could be someone else. I felt like I could be more than just a monster
whose heart was shriveled and dead.

When her fingernails scraped across my abdomen, I groaned deep in my

throat, knowing where her hands were headed.

She was everything I wanted at this moment. Everything I needed.

I needed this. I needed her.

So, I let her remove my belt and undo my trousers, sliding the zipper down
until my cock sprang out in her waiting hands. Under a lidded gaze, I
watched her slide to the floor, positioning herself between my legs. “What
are you doing?” I asked, knowing the answer.
She gave me a saucy smile as her hand gripped my cock, rubbing it from
root to tip. “What does it look like I’m doing, Alyosha?”

I gave her a crooked smile. “It looks like your fucking lips are about to be
on my cock, Elia.”

“That’s the right answer,” she grinned before lowering her mouth to me. I
hissed as her mouth slid over my cock, taking me deep in her throat until
she couldn’t go any further. She was good at this, among a million other
things she was good at. But this…in this, she was unparalleled.

My hands slid into her hair, but I allowed her to take control, her head
bobbing as her tongue ran circles across the sensitive head.

She hummed, and I nearly lost control right then and there, bucking against
her mouth hard. I could almost feel the smile on her lips as they wrapped
around my hardness, deciding that she would get a taste of her own
medicine when it was my turn.

Because it was going to be my turn eventually.

Her nails scraped across the sensitive skin and I tugged on her hair, pulling
her away from my aching cock. “Not yet,” I said as her eyes met mine.
“You’re not about to win so quickly.”

She looked pleased with herself as she rocked back on her heels, her eyes
full of heat that I could feel running through my veins. “Take your dress
off,” I said hoarsely, gripping my cock in my hand. “I want to see you.”

Elia’s eyes traveled to where I was touching myself and when her pink
tongue darted across her lips, I could barely control the flood of desire that
pooled in my cock. “Careful now,” I growled. “Or I might lose control.”

“That’s the idea.” She smirked once more as she rose to her bare feet and
reached for the hem of her dress, carefully pulling it over her head to reveal
a lingerie set that left nothing to the imagination. If this was what I would
get by sending her out shopping, then I was going to do it more often.

It also struck me at that moment that my wife was gorgeous in a way that
was uniquely her. She wasn’t a stick-thin model type, but she had curves in
all the right places. No matter how many times she bared herself to me, I
would never be able to get enough.

She was a flame, and I was the moth drawn irresistibly toward it. And each
time she ignited, I wanted to burn up in her light.

“Come here,” I said huskily.

Elia sauntered over to me until she was standing between my open legs and
I ran my hands up her sides, before finding the clasp to her bra. With a
single practiced motion, I undid the clasp and let it fall away. I cupped her
breasts in my hands, tweaking her rosy-hued nipples. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, Aleksey,” she moaned, pushing herself into my hands.

I leaned forward and took her breast into my mouth, hearing her stifle a
gasp as I did so. Already she was trying to get me to move my hand
southward, where I knew she would be soaking wet. But I held myself in
check. I kept myself focused on the task at hand.

I wasn’t done with her breasts yet. Not by a long shot.

I switched sides, and she slid her fingers into my hair, holding me there as I
ravaged her other breast with the same intensity, my teeth grazing over the
sensitive peak more than once.

I was going to devour her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Three
Elia

Aleksey was going to be the death of me. My body was tight as a bowstring
right now as each touch from him left me wanting more. I ached for him,
and I longed for him to soothe that ache in the way that only he could.

I wanted him inside me. Never had I thought I would want someone so
badly in my life, but Aleksey, he did that to me.

He made me crave him.

When he pulled away from me, I let out a little whimper.

“Easy,” he murmured as he stood up. “I want you in our bed.”

Our bed. My heart squeezed at the thought. It was our bed. This was our
marriage. It didn’t matter what was going on outside these walls or what
secrets Aleksey guarded in his heart. When he walked into this penthouse,
he was stepping into another world, another life.

It was shocking how quickly the two of us had fallen into each other since
our first official meeting. We had sworn that we would never let our
feelings get in the way, yet that was exactly what had happened.
Somewhere along the line, we had become addicted to each other. And
nothing could break us of our habit.

Aleksey didn’t bother buttoning up his trousers, letting them hang on for
dear life by his hips as he took my hand and led me down the hall to the
bedroom.

“Get on the bed, Elia,” he growled, his voice hard and insistent.

My heart thundered in my chest, obeying. As I climbed on the bed, I made

sure to raise my ass toward him so that he could get a good look through the
flimsy material of the dress. He never once complained about my
performance, yet I still felt a need to prove myself to him. To tempt him and
to make him lust for me until he could hardly control himself.

Maybe it was his quiet dominance. Aleksey never raised his voice to exert
his power.

All he had to do was walk into the room.

He approached the bed, and my stomach quivered in anticipation as his

hands slid up from my ankles to my calves, each touch setting my skin on
fire.

When he tugged me toward the edge of the bed, I felt every nerve in my
body firing all at once in rapid succession. “Aleksey,” I said, my breathing
coming out in a gasp. “What are you doing?”

“Relax,” he said against my inner thigh, his hand moving higher until his
fingers brushed the lace of my panties. “I’m worshipping you, Elia.”

Worshipping me. He was worshipping me? From where I was, it felt more
like he was torturing me.

His finger hooked the edge of my panties and pulled them aside. Almost
immediately, his mouth pressed against my wet slit. I gasped at the way his
stubble pricked against my sensitive bare skin. My legs opened wider under
their own violation to give him better access while I writhed under his
touch. I was shameless with lust whenever he feasted on my sex. He could
do whatever he wanted to between my thighs and I wouldn’t care.

Aleksey parted my slit and his tongue found my clit, the nub hard and
aching with need. His tongue lashed at the sensitive flesh, and my fingers
dug against the comforter. I was so close, oh so close, but his tongue felt far
too good for me to release.

I didn’t want to let this moment end.

When he slid a finger inside me, I moaned loudly, my body tightening
against the welcomed intrusion. I burned for him, desperately holding back
the release that built up deep in my core. Aleksey lifted his head, and I met
his heated gaze, my heart flipping in my chest as I saw my wetness
glistening on his lips.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” he said, his finger moving in and out of me
slowly. “Like honey.”

I hardly heard him as pleasure slowly overwhelmed me, biting on my lower

lip as I felt my inevitable release lumbering toward me.

“Don’t you fucking dare look away,” he growled. “I want to see you lose
yourself in what I’m doing to you, Elia.”

I whimpered but didn’t break our connection, silently begging him not to
stop what he was doing. His free hand ground against my trembling clit and
I cried out as pleasure crashed over me, one wave after another in endless
ecstatic succession, and left my body shaking.

Aleksey removed his hand and positioned himself between my legs, his
cock brushing over my entrance.

“Mine,” he said, his hand raking down my still trembling body

possessively. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Yes, I was his. I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t want anyone else. I didn’t want to
leave this marriage like I had when I was first informed of it. It didn’t
matter who he had been in the past and what he had done to my family. The
hatred that I had for him was slowly slipping away, like water through my
fingers. No matter how desperate I was to cling to it, I couldn’t.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I forced him inside me, seeing the
strain on his own face as he did so. He had been so close earlier that I knew
he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer either.
“Look at me,” I said softly, angling my hips so he could seat himself deep
inside. “Look at me as you fuck me.”

His eyes met mine. “And what else would you have me do, Elia?”

“I want you to lose control,” I whispered, gasping as my body stretched to

accommodate him. “I want to feel you empty yourself in me. I want you to
shatter inside me like you shatter me in your hands. I want to not know
where I end and where you begin.”

Aleksey’s nostrils flared, and his hands found my hips. “Is that what you
want?” he teased as he pulled back. “Tell me the truth, Elia.”

“Yes,” I moaned, tightening my legs around his hips to pull him back in.
“Oh God, yes.”

So he gave me what I wanted. I clung to him as he plunged into me again

and again. Each deep stroke of his cock inside of me took me to another
height that left me hanging perilously from the moment when I would fall
down, losing all sense of who and what I was.

Still, Aleksey didn’t slow down, his fingers digging into my hips as our
bodies rose to meet each thrust, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Come,” he said, his breathing heavy. “Come for me, Elia.”

“Aleksey,” I begged, my nails digging into my palms. “Please.”

His expression grew harder as he finally let go of control, my name on his

lips as he poured into me, his entire body taut and shaking.

I watched, fascinated, as he tipped his head back and roared. There was
nothing sexier than what I was witnessing before me.

Aleksey wrecked me. I could feel it in my bones as my body arched up

from pleasure. I could feel it in my pussy as it milked his gorgeous, perfect
cock. I could feel it in my womb as it drank in every drop of his searing hot
seed.

Finally, he pulled out of my quivering body and looked down at me. I could
barely catch my breath, a million different emotions warring inside me so I
could hardly unpack a single one. As much as I wanted to deny it, I had a
connection to Aleksey.

When he came back down to reclaim my lips, my heart rate tripled and
whatever sliver of resolve I might’ve had melted away.

I could fall in love with him. It would be easy. A normal person probably
would look at our relationship and think it would never work, but we had
both come from the same sort of family issues. We understood each other
on a different level, and some of the things that others couldn’t get past, we
could.

Together.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Four
Elia

I allowed myself, panting, to melt into the warmth of the space between our
bodies.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked lightly, my fingers trailing over the
forearm that was locked around my waist. In his arms, I felt safe, protected.

“I am,” he sighed, his lips brushing across my skin. “This is good to come
home to after the shit I’ve dealt with today.”

I locked those particular words away as well, trying and failing not to let
them impact me. “I’m sorry you have to deal with any of it.”

He chuckled, and the sound warmed me clear to my toes. “It’s part of the
job, I’m afraid.”

I turned in his arms until we were face to face. “Do you think your uncle is
behind it?”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Is that what you think?”

I shrugged. “Who else would want to hurt you like this?”

Aleksey swallowed, and I reached up to stroke his brow, not sure why I
cared about him or about this so much. To hear him telling me anything like
this was a major step. He could have easily ignored me like so many men in
his position did to their wives. But he was sharing the information, and I
was happy about it.

“You’re right,” he finally said, blowing out a breath. “I have my own

suspicions, but I have to prove them.”

“It’s likely my father is part of it as well,” I said slowly, the realization

coming to me. They had made this marriage happen. I didn’t think that they
were quite done with us yet. “Even if I’m kept in the dark. It’s right up his
alley.”

Aleksey grew quiet, and I stilled my touch, wondering what he was

thinking.

“What is it?” I asked.

His eyes met mine, and I saw a war in their depths. The depth of emotions
behind them nearly took my breath away.

“You surprised me,” he finally said, his hand coming up to smooth the hair
from my face. “That’s all.”

“In what way?”

A grin ghosted on his lips, and my entire body softened. God, he was
gorgeous when he smiled like that! “You have a good handle on how power
flows within the families, Even if you had to piece it all together yourself.”

I gave him a small smile, trying not to give in to the compliment at the
thought of how I could surprise him.

“People underestimate me all the time,” I confessed. “My father always has.
He thought that I wasn’t listening, and after…” My throat closed and I had
to clear it. “After Luca’s death, he seemed to grow a bit freer with his
information.” Most of the time, no one even noticed that I was in the room.
I had always been a fly on the wall, the additional child that could be
ignored because my presence was insignificant.

Aleksey was quiet for a few moments before he leaned over and brushed his
lips over mine. “I will never underestimate you, Elia.”

There was something in the way he said those words that sent a cold shiver
down my spine. It was one thing to playfully tell me that. But he had said it
so seriously, so earnestly, that I immediately recognized the intent behind
the words.
I will never let my guard down around you.

Then he smiled again. The spell was broken, but the damage remained.
Suspicion lingered at the back of my head as he pressed his lips against my
skin.

Tender waves of emotion conflicted within my heart. He was going to break

me one day. I was going to love him too much. I was going to give too
much of myself to him. He would one day hold my heart in his hands and
then shatter it.

I was sure of it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed as his lips trailed down to my

ear, his hot breath tickling my skin. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I never told you to stop.” I breathed, happy for the distraction that
consumed us.

Aleksey lifted his head. I could see the burning intensity in his eyes, could
feel his cock starting to harden against my leg, and could sense that his
mind was turning this way and that with thoughts. I reached up and traced
the small scar that was near his left eyebrow. One day I would ask him
about his scars, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment.

It was too perfect. Too good. I wanted to focus on the ray of sunshine
piercing the thunderclouds between us, and not on the black clouds that
threatened to choke off all light in the distance.

In an instant, Aleksey tugged me atop him until I straddled his body. His
cock pressed insistently against my ass. The look on his face left my heart
aching. Once upon a time, there was a carefree man behind those eyes. But
that man had died, and in his place was my husband. My husband who
trusted nothing and no one. He has been forced into this marriage, same as
me, I reminded myself. No matter how well he hid it, if he’d had any choice
in this, he never would’ve agreed to it.
Same as me.

Yet here I was. No, here we were. Bodies sweaty and drained, yet ready to
give ourselves to each other. Again and again until we would finally
collapse into each other—sated yet hungry, together yet separate.
Everything about our marriage was a contradiction. The deeper both of us
fell into it, the more I craved simplicity.

We were stuck together. Until death.

This was the man who was going to be by my side for as long as we were
both alive.

“I’m glad to have you,” he was saying, pulling me back into the present, his
hands roaming up and down my sides.

The teasing nature of his tone softened me, and I chose to believe that he
was sincere in his word. Even if something was waiting for us, to ruin this
thing that was starting to grow between us, I would remember this moment.
This was the Aleksey that I could fool myself into loving.

The one who could break my heart.

So, I leaned down and kissed him, letting my hands slide through his hair.
In this moment, no one else existed but the two of us.

No one.

Aleksey commanded the kiss and before I knew it, I was on my back once
more and he was sliding into me until he could move no further.

“Elia,” he breathed against my lips.

Whatever secret was on the verge of being revealed died on his lips as I
closed mine against his. I didn’t want him to finish. I didn’t want to guess
what else he might try to tell me. Because if he could say it, then it might
prove that we were willing to let down our barriers.

And I wasn’t ready for that. Not by a long shot.

“Aleksey,” I said instead as his hands cupped my breasts.

My husband lifted his head, and we stared at each other, searching for lies
between our stares.

“Say my name,” he finally said as he began to move. “Say it again, Elia.”

I did as he asked, crying out his name again and again under him—at times
a plea, and at times a cure. But if you were to ask me for clarification, I
wouldn’t be able to tell you. The two sounded the same in our throes of
passion.

Much later, after we were both draped over each other, I found myself
hoping that whatever this was could be sustained. We hadn’t been brought
together for a future for our families. Neither of us believed that. But
perhaps, just perhaps, we could weather it together in the end. If we
pretended long enough and hard enough, everything might become real.

Because the hard truth was this: Aleksey was starting to become someone
very important in my life. And I would do anything I could not to lose him.
I would do anything I could for him not to leave my heart in pieces.

Shaking off the familiar worry, I scooted closer against my husband and
allowed myself to soak in the warmth of his hard, broad body.

That was what I needed to focus on.

Because if I dared to focus on anything else, I could lose everything.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Five
Aleksey

I looked out of the window in my office, drumming my fingers along the

desktop. After a round of phone calls and meetings this morning, I was tired
of looking at the scenery.

This particular office was in my penthouse, a few doors down from where I
knew my wife was. Normally I didn’t like to conduct business where I was
staying. But something tugged at my gut about straying too far from Elia. It
wasn’t her specifically. It was the feeling that if I left, then this bubble
around us would pop, and I would lose something dear to me. Something
fragile.

It had been three days since I had found out about the money missing from
the gambling ring, three days of silence, and three days of endless questions
—each one a slightly reworded version of one already asked.

I was growing tired of the constant questions.

I wanted action.

Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face. I wanted to prove somehow that my

uncle was behind it. Although I didn’t want to accept that he might
intentionally be trying to destroy the Bratva and our very livelihood from
within, I believed that he wanted to prove that he could create a crisis and
then step in as the one who would fix it.

If he did, it would bolster his case to be the Pakhan. Not me.

I hated thinking that way. When I was a boy, Uncle Misha had been one of
my heroes. He was what my father never was: a man who gave me a
semblance of a childhood. All the normal things that a boy might want, he
provided. Where my father was nothing but cold business, Uncle Misha had
been there to be the fun uncle.
Things changed when I turned thirteen. Once Father began to mold me into
the heir I was supposed to be, Uncle Misha kept his distance. I didn’t
understand it at the time. But it was clear now that all of it had been nothing
but a carefully planned choreography between them.

Father had taught me to sever all relationships that I cared about. And
Uncle Misha complied.

I sighed as I resumed drumming my fingers. What about Elia? Would I

have to sever that relationship as well once I set out to do what my father
wanted—whatever that might be?

I had no good answer. Part of me told me that I should, that I must. But
another part of me dared to contemplate a different path.

A knock sounded on the door, shaking me out of my thoughts. I cleared my

throat. “Come in.”

The door opened and Elia walked through, anxiety bleeding out of her
expression. My cock stirred as I took in her pencil skirt and floral blouse,
the way her hair was swept to one side, exposing the column of her neck
where my lips had been in the early morning hours, and the concern that
flowed from her eyes.

She had no idea what she did to me. Even now I was starting to forget why I
had asked her to come to my office to begin with, torn between wanting to
talk to her and wanting to clear my desk so I could bend her against it.
Never had I wanted anything as much and as frequently as I had with her. It
should be a concern, yet I couldn’t help craving her.

“You wanted to see me?” she was asking as she closed the door behind her.

I gestured to one of the chairs before my desk. “Yes, I did. Do you have
time?”

She nodded and took a seat, looking visibly nervous. She kept her eyes
looking down and her hands neatly folded on her lap, almost as if from
practice.

“Nothing is wrong,” I added hastily. The truth was, I enjoyed her. I lived for
her giggles, for the way she gasped in my arms. I lived for the way she
pressed herself against me, the feelings she made me feel in the quiet
moments. Somehow, she had become an outlet, a way for me to glance at
the possibilities of unlatching my heart. And in spite of the lingering
questions I still had about her and her family’s intentions, I’d be lying if I
said that I didn’t long for her when she was gone.

Still, I worried. It was all working too fucking well, and I knew that things
like this didn’t work out forever.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m not a fan of being called into a don’s
office.”

Of course, I realized. How many times had her father done this to her? How
many times did she hear bad news about things that were out of her control
and that would destroy her life—things that began exactly in this way? A
hesitant knock, the inevitable invitation, and finally being seated before she
was forced to listen and accept whatever the other side said?

I nodded and stepped from behind the desk, settling into the chair next to
her. “Better?”

Elia smiled, but she continued to avert her eyes. “A little.”

Was this how she’d found out about her brother’s death? Was this how
she’d learned about this marriage? What else had Ludovico done? Each
unasked question sparked curiosity, but behind them were flames of anger.
She was your daughter, you bastard. If he was anything like my father…if
he had done any of the things to her that my father did to me…

Then our fathers were truly no different from each other. Monsters. Devils.

“You said you wanted to talk to me?” she finally asked.

“I do,” I replied. “I need your advice.”

The shock on her face was real, and even I still couldn’t quite believe that
the words were leaving my lips. I never asked others for help. But this was
something that I could no longer handle on my own. I needed to be careful
about my next steps. And somehow, I felt that Elia would offer another
perspective that I sorely needed.

“All right.” She laced her fingers in her lap and cast me a quick gaze. “How
can I help?”

“If you were in my position, what would you do?” I asked her, finding no
bitterness in my voice. Surprisingly, it did feel normal. It felt far too normal.

Elia drew in a breath, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. It
turned me on that she would think so deeply about matters when it came to
business and livelihood, like she was in it for the long haul.

“Well,” she finally said. “If I thought that my uncle was out to ruin me, then
the last thing I would do is to spook him. The more you push against him,
the more likely it is he’ll try to cover his tracks. I say that you ride it out.”

Interesting…

“That way,” Elia continued. “You can look for anyone he’s using who might
not be fully on board with his plans, and drive a wedge between them.
Then, and only then, will you apply pressure.”

“Impressive,” I admitted, surprised as hell. I didn’t know why I was

surprised. “How did you come to this conclusion?”

She smiled at me sheepishly. “When Luca and I were younger, we used to

go through our own play acting like this. He would quiz me on what to do,
like we were little dons. I think he was using me to help him strategize for
the day when he would take over from Father.” As soon as the words were
out of her mouth, she froze, as if she had said too much.
It was impossible to miss the hurt that flashed across her face. Her fingers
tightened against each other, knuckles white from pressure, and she turned
away again to hide behind a curtain of her hair.

“You were close.”

Elia nodded. “As close as you and Alya. Perhaps closer.”

I opened my mouth to apologize, but I knew I could not. No amount of

apologizing could undo the past. Nothing I said could fill the hole in her
heart. The words would be hollow. Because the ugly truth was that I didn’t
feel sorry about killing Luca Tarallo. He would’ve done the same to me. I
only felt bad about hurting her. That was all.

Even if Elia and I had married before Luca’s death, we would still have
been enemies under the veneer of an alliance.

After some silence, Elia finally looked at me again. This time, she held her
gaze slightly longer. “You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I admitted. “I think that our marriage is being used in another

matter.”

“Like what?”

As a way for me to be distracted by you. As a way for my uncle to get me

conveniently out of the way. As a way for me to fall so deeply for you that I
might even consider abandoning all of this.

But I couldn’t very well say any of those things. Not to her.

And just then, the same haunting refrain sounded again. Let’s fly away
together, Aleks. Just you and me.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “I don’t know what our marriage is being
used for, but it’s being used for something.”
She looked up, and this time she did not look away. “Do you know when a
threat is no longer a threat, Aleksey?”

I shook my head.

“When the threat no longer has teeth.” She drew in a breath. “That is what I
think. I’m the sole Tarallo heir. By bringing us together, there is no more
threat to the futures of our families from each other. Together, we might
face off against a greater threat. One that threatens all of us equally.”

She wasn’t wrong. If we were fighting each other, then it would be easy for
some third party to start worming their way into one side or another. My
father was dead. Her brother was dead. To the outsiders looking in, both
sides looked unstable at best.

“Like who?” I asked. “Your friend in the DA’s office?”

“No,” she replied. “Someone else. Someone worse.”

“Who could be worse than the law for people in our world?” I asked.

Elia stood up suddenly and walked to the bank of windows, looking out
over the busy city below.

“Maybe someone who plans to use the law to achieve their ends,” she said.

I joined her, reaching out and pulling her against my body, surprised to feel
her tremble in my arms. “You’re trembling.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I think there’s something far greater at play
here. Something that is about far more than just the rivalry between our two
families. Whatever it is, it’ll require both of us.”

“Have any ideas?” I asked, resting my chin on top of her head. I agreed
with everything she was saying.

Elia gasped. “Oh God.”

I turned her in my arms and saw the panic on her face. “What is it?” I asked
more urgently. I didn’t like the look on her face.

“Your uncle,” she swallowed, as if the words were hard to say. “He must
intend to use me to make an heir…One that might stand to inherit both
families’ legacies. One that he could control. He married me to you and
brought you back here because…because then he’d be close to me.”

Realization struck me like a bolt of lightning, and suddenly I was glad that I
was holding tightly to Elia. He wouldn’t…I thought bitterly. He wouldn’t
dare do something like this.

“That must be it,” Elia continued. “Why else would he undermine you like
this? Why else would he seek to make you look incapable of controlling
your own Bratva? He’s planned this all down to the smallest detail. And
once you’re gone…he’ll…he’ll…”

I held her close as rage simmered under my skin. Of all the things that I
thought Uncle Misha might do, this was the lowest of the low. He really did
think that he could put his hands on what was mine. First it was the Bratva,
and now my wife.

If you dare touch her, Uncle, I will tear you apart with my own hands. If you
so much as even look at her wrong, I will end you.

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“What else could it be?” she whispered, looking away. “He practically has
everything he needs. Soon, he won’t need you. And without you to protect
me…” Her voice broke. “I’ll be at his mercy.”

I swore as I pulled her tightly against me, my mind whirling with

possibilities, each one worse than the last. But what Elia said made sense. It
made perfect sense.
Uncle Misha had already sunk his claws into my mother, but she couldn’t
give him the heir that he needed. What she did give him was the air of
legitimacy. Everyone still knew Raissa as Fyodor’s wife, the dowager queen
of the Bratva. Uncle Misha’s ring on Mother’s finger meant that he would
be associated with her. But my mother was never his goal. She could never
give him an heir.

And while I’d spent ten years in New York, Uncle Misha had spent that
same time cultivating allies here in Chicago. A chill ran down my ribs. He’s
isolated me in my own home. He can replace me in an instant…

“Aleksey?” Elia broke my thought.

“I won’t let him get to you.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “I will fucking
kill him if he so much as looks at you wrong. No one will hurt you, Elia,
not while I’m here.” And if I wasn’t, then Boris would ensure her safety.

A heady cocktail of different emotions rushed through me all at once. Were

it not for Elia, I would’ve missed this. But now that she’d said it so plainly,
it was so obvious. I need her, I thought. I need her more than I ever thought
possible.

“Please, Aleksey.” Elia placed her arms around my waist and clung to me.
“Please don’t let him do this to me…”

I pulled back to frame her face with my hands, brushing away the tears that
had escaped her terrified eyes.

“I swear,” I said softly. “You are safe with me.” I would protect her with my
life if need be. A thousand other words rushed toward my lips, but I
swallowed them down. Neither of us was ready for those words for right
now. “Trust me.”

“I do,” she finally said, giving me a wobbly smile. “I trust you.”

Releasing a painful breath, I pressed my lips to her forehead. “I shouldn’t

have kept you here in Chicago after the wedding,” I admitted, hating that I
had her worried now. “You belong in New York, where you can be kept
safe. I should send you there.” Far from Uncle Misha’s grip.

“No,” she interrupted, pressing her hand to my chest and forcing me to meet
her gaze. “If you send me back to New York now, then that will only spook
your uncle and let him know we’ve uncovered his plan. We can’t allow that.
For better or worse, I must remain here. This is where I belong.” Her eyes
locked with mine. “Right here with you.”

“There is another way we can thwart him,” she said, her voice a bit
unsteady.

“What is it?” I asked, my heart lurching. I had a suspicion what she was
about to suggest, but I needed to hear her say it.

Elia took a shuddering breath. “We can have a child. Our child.”

And there it was. Our child…I knew that was the eventuality. But to hear
those words and will it into existence like this…

“Elia…” I started.

“No, listen.” She placed a delicate finger to my lips to stop me. “You asked
me to trust you. And now I’m asking you to trust me. This is the only way.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, grasping her hand in mine.

“When has anyone ever cared about what I want?” she said bitterly. “It
might have even happened already, Aleksey.”

There was sadness in her eyes in the way she said it. I saw the tear slide
down her face before I could wipe it away. She went silent. I knew her heart
was breaking at the thought. She’d been forced to spread her legs for me.
And now, she realized that the only way she might keep herself safe from a
worse fate was my baby growing in her belly.

“Elia…”
“Stop it, Aleksey.” She pulled away from me and sat on the desk. “Stop
trying to feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your
apologies.”

She opened her legs wide, her stance beckoning me like a moth to the
flame. “I want to survive. And if this is what it takes, then that’s exactly
what I’ll do.”

I felt a heaviness descend over the room as I stalked over to her, caging her
between my arms. My cock came to life as she stared intensely into my
eyes. The tears were gone, and in their place was a determination that sent a
shiver through my core.

I was staring into the eyes of a she-wolf, one who would chew off her own
leg to survive.

“Are you going to just stand there?” she whispered. “Or are you going to
fuck me?”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Six
Elia

I gasped as Aleksey’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin on my neck, not

believing how wet I already was. When he had invited me into his office, I
had assumed the worst.

In a way, I was right.

It had taken the two of us to arrive at the startling realization. But once it
was said, the cruel path that we both needed to take became plainly
obvious.

His hand slid up my leg and underneath my skirt, his fingers leaving a trail
of molten heat in their wake that briefly held back the chill gripping my
heart. “I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured as he placed a kiss on the exposed
skin at my back. “I promise.”

I pressed down on the desk with my forearms and opened my legs further.
“Stop toying with me, Aleksey. Stop toying with me and just fuck me.”

The next words never left my throat as he possessively took my mouth with
his, kissing me until I was gasping for breath. His fingers massaged my
pussy through the thin barrier of my panties, teasing and pressing with an
insistence that hadn’t been there before.

“Please,” I begged when he released my mouth. “What are you waiting

for?”

Aleksey withdrew his hand, his voice hard as steel. “Lie back.”

Heart racing, I did as he asked, the cool surface of the desk seeping through
my thin blouse. My nipples were already hard as a rock, the ache growing
by the second, but still I waited.

I liked this.
Rough fingers found the hem of my blouse, and I felt them tearing it apart.
Cool air brushed my body, and the tip of his cock pressed insistently against
the thin fabric of my panties as the distance between us closed.

I gasped, arching into his touch. Those same fingers found my breasts and
squeezed possessively, drawing a whimper of pleasure from my lips.

His other hand reached down and pulled my panties to the side, not even
bothering to strip them from me. I sucked in a breath as he ran his hand
along my slit one final time before his cock probed my entrance, pushing in
slowly, inch by inch.

“Aleksey,” I gasped as he filled me painstakingly slowly, letting me feel the

familiar detail of every hard, throbbing inch. My body reacted and a flood
of warmth accompanied his movements, and it was his turn to groan.

“Fuck me,” I begged as he pushed the rest of the way inside me, pausing so
I could feel the heaviness. “Fuck me!”

He retreated until he nearly pulled out completely, only to push himself

back in completely in one hard thrust. I gripped the edge of the desk with
my hands as he increased his motion, building my orgasm like an architect
would build a house. Every motion was deliberate.

We were fucking for our lives. But he still intended to drive me insane with
need. His lips captured mine again, and his tongue rushed into my mouth.
My own hands reached up to grip his ass, pulling him even closer to me so
that there would be no possibility of wasting even a single drop. I felt a
familiar pressure starting to build. I wanted to tell him that he was going to
make me cum, but all I could do was let him swallow my moans as his body
slapped against mine.

I lay there like a rag doll as his hard cock slid further into me. With every
small pump of his hips, he drew out another moan. I reached up, my hands
smoothing the broad expanse of his powerful torso as he groaned above me.
That was when he finally released my lips. I took a long deep gasp as he
continued to fuck me. Wave after wave of pleasure reverberated across my
body.

His fingers found my nipples and pinched them. His cock felt bigger than
ever. I’d never felt as full as this moment. Not on our first night. Not all
those nights when he rode me mercilessly. But here, in his office, I was
completely at his mercy. I had surrendered myself to him willingly.

In that moment, I felt like this was how it was meant to be. My body was
made for him to enjoy like this. My pussy was quivering, and my body
began to shake.

Aleksey made a sound of approval and picked up his pace, the few items on
his desk now rocking with each movement. I gritted my teeth and arched
my back, hoping that he would hit the spot that left me seeing stars. His
hand slid up to my shoulder and he used me as leverage, hitting just the spot
that had me screaming out his name as I flooded him.

He let out a harsh grunt and followed close behind me, pouring himself
deep inside of me. For a moment, neither of us moved, my legs weak from
the wreck he had just caused in my body.

“Fuck,” my husband finally said, his hard body leaning into me. He was
careful to frame me with his own arms, caging me against the desk so that
he wasn’t crushing me, but still close enough that his warmth rolled down
across my trembling body.

I reveled in the weight of him as I attempted to get my breath back.

He pressed his lips to my neck, and between his pants, I heard him ask,
“Are you satisfied?”

Wordlessly and obediently, I nodded. And only when he pulled out and I
saw my reflection in the darkening window did I realize how much of a
mess I looked. My blouse was torn, my hair was matted to my head, and my
cheeks were red with lust. A drop of cum rolled down my thigh, staining
my crumpled pencil skirt as I took a step forward on rubbery legs.
My world spun, and I felt myself falling into him. Warmth and exhaustion
blanketed me overpoweringly. Aleksey scooped me up in his strong arms
and carried me to our bedroom. As he laid me down on the bed and made
quick work of my skirt and panties, I felt something change between us.

We were on the same page, fighting for the same thing, and that scared the
hell out of me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elia
Two weeks later

I slowly woke to the predawn light, feeling the weight of Aleksey’s arm
draped over my midsection. Looking over, I traced Aleksey’s handsome
features with my eyes, my heart tightening as I saw his furrowed brow even
in his sleep.

The discussion about his uncle two weeks ago had left me rattled far more
than I had let on. I knew that things—horrible things—happened in the
world we lived in. I had heard of worse things being whispered in my
father’s office. But this was the first time that I found myself the object and
trophy of the struggle.

The thought of Aleksey’s uncle attempting to do something to me was so

horrible that it left me nauseous. My stomach roiled and suddenly I was out
of the bed. I barely made it to the toilet, retching.

I felt Aleksey’s hand on the back of my neck, quickly replaced by a cold

washcloth. “Go on, let it all out.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks as I sat back on my heels, flushing the
toilet. “I feel like I’ve thrown up a few organs as well.”

He sat on the edge of the bathtub and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Do I
have anything to worry about?”

Removing the washcloth from my neck, I used it to wash my face and

hands. “I don’t think so.”

I looked down at my naked form. Were my breasts bigger than I

remembered? Or had they always been like this? Was my hair always this
full? And the bathroom. It smelled different. But nothing changed here. I
was sure of it.

Dawning realization hit me. Maybe it had happened weeks ago already…
“Aleksey…” I forced out, breathless. “I think it’s happened.”

He seemed suddenly nervous. Aleksey was never nervous. Blowing out a

breath, he pushed off the bathtub. “There’s only one way to find out.”

I listened to him walk out of the bathroom, feeling as if I was living in

someone else’s body. Could I really be pregnant? Hadn’t we just had that
conversation yesterday? If I was, then I would be carrying Aleksey’s child,
his heir, the key to his own future.

And the key to securing my own safety.

Body shaking, I forced myself to stand. Aleksey was right. There was only
one way we could find out.

I found him in the bedroom, already pulling on a T-shirt. “I’m going to get
dressed,” I told Aleksey as I walked over to the wardrobe. I had never gone
to buy a pregnancy test before, but surely it wasn’t that hard to do.

“No.” Aleksey looked back. “Stay here,” he stated, pointing toward the
warm bed we had just left.

“I’m not sick,” I argued as he pulled on his boots. “I’m pregnant.”

Aleksey’s eyes met mine, and I saw a swirl of emotions in those dark
depths. “All the more reason for you to stay here, Elia. Until we know for
sure.”

“Fine.” I felt shaky. “Can you get some ginger ale and crackers while you
are out? Because those are the only things that I think I can stomach right
now.”

He stepped toward me and I closed the gap between us. “I’ve already sent
Boris a message,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “Why don’t you
rest until he gets back?”
A startled laugh left me. “You sent Boris to buy a pregnancy test?”

His lips brushed my temple. “And ginger ale and crackers. I think you need
me here.”

My heart melted. “Thank you.”

He released me and led me over to the bed, patting my side. “Get in.”

I thought about arguing with him that if I was pregnant, then it was going to
be a long nine months, but instead climbed up on the bed and he tucked the
comforter around me.

“So let’s say I’m pregnant,” I started softly, watching Aleksey pull out his
cell phone. “What next?”

Aleksey looked up, his expression tightening. “We keep you safe, Elia.”

I fiddled with the comforter, suddenly feeling small and scared about what
we might be facing.

“This is what we discussed last night,” Aleksey said. “Things have

changed, and we need to plan our next moves before my uncle catches wind
of this. I can swear Boris to secrecy, but there will come a time when you
will no longer be able to hide.”

“I know what you mean,” I admitted, the nervousness causing my voice to

shake.

“I will protect you,” he finished, reaching over to grasp one of my hands. “I

swear it, Elia.”

I squeezed his hand. Conflicting emotions swirled inside of me. I might be

pregnant with Aleksey’s child. A part of me was beaming with happiness.
But another part of me—the part that shamed me each time after I opened
myself to him—was sorely disappointed.
We were supposed to be enemies, yet here we were. I couldn’t fathom the
concept. I didn’t think I had the ability to.

***

Thirty minutes later, I stared at the test on the counter, the two faint pink
lines glaring back at me.

I was pregnant.

The air left my lungs in a whoosh and I stumbled against the counter,
touching my stomach. There was a child inside me, mine and Aleksey’s
child. In another short eight months or so, I would hold that child in my
arms.

“Elia?”

Swallowing the hysterical laugh that threatened to overcome me, I walked

over to the bathroom door and opened it. Aleksey stood there, no
expression on his face.

“I’m pregnant,” I said, feeling a sudden rush of emotion at the words. “It’s
happened.”

His expression broke then and for a moment, I saw something that looked
like hope flash in his eyes before he shuttered it away, pulling me into his
arms instead. “Elia, I don’t know what to say.”

I cuddled against his chest, soaking in his warmth. “There’s nothing you
need to say. But I could kill for that ginger ale.”

He let out a choked laugh and held me tighter, likely thinking about the
ramifications of this startling discovery. I was pregnant with his heir, the
heir to the Korolev Bratva. This child would keep me safe from whatever
dastardly plans his uncle had for me.
The realization suddenly hit me. The stakes were now higher than ever for
us.

“You have to go to New York,” Aleksey said.

“What?” I looked at him. “Aleksey, we just discussed this. I can’t go to

New York. Your uncle would know something’s up if I did.”

“He will know something is up regardless.” He clenched his jaw. “I can’t

take that risk. Not now. You’ll be safe in New York.”

“And what about you?” I touched his cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re just
going to stay here to face your uncle alone?”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do.” He took my hand in his and held it
tightly. “You’ll be safe in New York. I can say that there’s an emergency
that requires your presence there.”

“The only emergency I could have would involve my father, and I’m sure
your uncle would know about that in an instant!” I protested.

“Then I could tell him that you’re pregnant with my child. We’ll force him
to act earlier than he thought possible.”

“Aleksey, no.” I shook my head. “You can’t face him alone like this. You
need me here.”

“I need you safe!” he bellowed suddenly.

Whatever happiness had erupted between us evaporated. He had never

raised his voice at me before, never shown me any outburst of emotion. I
found myself staring not at the father of my child, but the man I was forced
to marry.

He’s afraid…I realized.

“Elia, I know we talked about this, about how this child would fuck up my
uncle’s plans. But it doesn’t change the fact that he intends to kill me.”
Aleksey gently gripped my shoulders. “Even if he won’t have you, he’ll
have our child if he manages to kill me. This child binds both our families
together. If you’re here in Chicago and I’m dead, then there will be nothing
to stop my uncle from taking that child from you and raising it under his
tutelage. That is why you need to go home to your father. You’ll be safe
with him.”

I laughed. “You really think I’ll be safer with my father than here with
you?” He had no idea the kind of relationship I had with my father. The
moment that man had signed me away, he was my father no longer. The
man never gave a shit about me.

“I know he won’t allow the baby to be in danger,” he replied, dropping my

hand. “I don’t think even you can dispute that.”

He was right. As much as I knew that my father didn’t give a shit about me,
I knew that he might give a shit about this baby growing in my belly. But
Aleksey was ignoring the possibility that my father might have his own
plans that he wanted to enact. I wouldn’t be safe in New York. I couldn’t
trust my father, not without my brother to shield me.

“Please,” I begged Aleksey. “Don’t send me home.”

“There’s no other way.” He sighed, thrusting a hand through his hair.

“You can lie,” I said.

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You can lie to your uncle,” I said. “Lie to him that you’ve sent me back to
New York. See how he reacts. And when he reacts, look at his hands.”

He arched a brow. “Why?”

I took his hands in mine, brushing my thumbs over their backs. “If he
fidgets with his hands, then you know he’s nervous. Then you know that he
has something to hide.”

It was one of the first lessons that Luca had taught me. He told me that was
the reason so many people chose to keep their hands busy when they were
nervous, such as holding a glass or tucking them into their pockets.

“Meet with him. Lie to him. Then watch his hands.”

Aleksey gave me an inscrutable look. “Fine,” he finally said. “But if I so

much as get a whiff of danger, you’re going back to New York.”

He pulled me close to him for an embrace, letting me feel his heart beat in
time with mine. I knew from his tone that there would be no arguing with
him if he did decide to send me back to my father in New York.

But I knew that I at least had been able to delay the inevitable.

I knew that I won a small victory.

And that would be enough for now.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aleksey

I straightened my jacket as I waited on my uncle, looking down at the

headstone that now decorated my father’s grave. Even seeing his name
etched on the granite still didn’t make it feel real that he was gone.

It was the first time since his death that I visited him. I had avoided it, using
every excuse under the sun. First it was the wedding, and then it was taking
care of the transition of power within the Bratva. Then some other excuses
that I’d all but forgotten.

All of them lies.

The truth was that I didn’t think I was ready to see him here. I didn’t think I
was ready to confront the fact that he was really gone.

I didn’t hate him completely, even after the unforgivable thing he did to me.

Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me.

I clenched my fist, forcing the voice of a ghost away so that I might focus
on the present.

This had to be done. If I was to face off against my uncle, then I needed to
first accept the reality that my father was gone. So, I remain rooted here,
staring at the silent tombstone and waiting for Uncle Misha to arrive.

“Alyosha.”

I turned and found my uncle standing a few feet away with a blank
expression on his face.

“Uncle Misha,” I acknowledged with a nod. “Thank you for coming.”

He drew closer, his eyes on the headstone. “This is not exactly the place I
would have chosen.”
I didn’t react. I couldn’t have him thinking that I suspected something from
him. I didn’t know what he would do if he thought I did.

“Last place we could be ambushed,” I said. “Do you approve?”

He laughed, but his easygoing attitude didn’t ease the tension from my
shoulders. “I do, Alyosha,” he finally said and turned to the mound of dirt
covering my father’s grave. “Hard to believe he’s gone. He’d been looking
forward to having you back. He missed you terribly.”

“And I missed him,” I said slowly, the corner of my gaze trained on Uncle
Misha’s hands. “Too bad he was betrayed before I could return.”

Uncle Misha cleared his throat, his hands clenching and unclenching at his
sides. “Betrayed?”

When he reacts, look at his hands. Elia’s whisper floated past my ear.

“Call it a gut feeling.” I shrugged. “I refuse to believe otherwise.”

Uncle Misha tucked his hands into his pocket. “Let it go, Alyosha. Move on
with your lovely wife.” He cast me a sidelong glance. “How is she doing?
Are the two of you well-acquainted yet?”

“That’s none of your business,” I answered hotly.

My uncle lifted his hands in surrender. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to hit
any sore spots.”

I didn’t apologize. “Elia is pregnant.”

There was no movement of his hands at the announcement. He dropped

them to his sides while a wide smile opened on his features. “That’s great
news, nephew!” He reached over and placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Now I understand why you would want to meet here.”
I arched a brow. “Why?”

“To tell your father.” He looked at the grave. “That the family legacy will
continue through your children.”

My family legacy? It was supposed to be my legacy. Even now, Uncle

Misha was claiming everything that belonged to me as his own by the
simple act of denying that it belonged to me.

“I hope that you give Elia my congratulations,” he continued, dropping his

hand while that stupid fucking smile remained on his face. “Unless you
wish me to congratulate her in person.”

“Why?” I blurted out, unable to help myself. “Why do you want to be so

close to my wife?”

“Alyosha…” His gaze darkened. “What are you suggesting?”

I said nothing, letting my uncle pick at the silence.

“Please, Alyosha.” Uncle Misha let out a short laugh and shook his head,
running his hand through his hair. “I am just looking out for this family.
Everything I do has been for this family and its future. There are so many
things in play right now, things that you cannot even begin to understand.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to share them with me,” I added. “After all, I am
the pakhan, am I not?”

“Of course,” he answered, grinning. “But there are some things even the
pakhan is better off not knowing. Your father never knew of some of the
plans that had already been put into motion.”

“Why?”

“Compartmentalization, Alyosha.” Uncle Misha rubbed his fingers. “If he

knew everything, then he risked divulging something.”
“Do you believe someone silenced him?”

The world went still all of a sudden. Uncle Misha looked at me with a new
glint in his eyes. I was forced to turn my attention away from his hands, but
I saw him stick them back in his pockets.

“I do,” he replied slowly. “But these are not things we ought to discuss in
public. Prying eyes and listening ears are everywhere. Especially the
Bogatyr.”

The Bogatyr? That was a name I had not heard of. “Who?”

“An enemy.” My uncle kept his voice even. “As I said, this is not something
we ought to discuss in public. You and Elia should come for family dinner.
Raissa Antonovna will want to know that she will be a grandmother soon.
And she’ll want to hear it from both of you.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Uncle.” Now it was my turn to lie.
“Elia has been sent home to New York.”

Even through his pockets, the clenching of his fists was unmistakable.
“New York? Why? Why would you send her back there, Alyosha?”

“She will be safe there.”

“From whom, Alyosha?” Uncle Misha asked, his hands balled into fists.
“You’ve sent the future of our family right into the hands of our enemy!”

“Our enemy?” I asked, feigning confusion. “Did we not make them our
allies?”

“Kozle proklyatiya!” he swore as he ran his fingers through his hair so

quickly that I thought he might rip it out by the roots. “Alyosha, you stupid
boy. You were supposed to wed her, bed her, and put a baby in her. Nothing
more. Yet somehow, you’ve gone and sent her straight back to her father!
Everything your father and I worked on, undone! By a single stupid
decision!”
“Unless…” His frantic motions stopped and he stared at me. “Unless this is
just a test…” His eyes narrowed. “It is, isn’t it? You’re testing me. Seeing
how I react…”

My heart leaped to my throat. “Why would I test you, Uncle?”

“No, no, no, you are testing me.” He pointed a finger accusingly at my face.
“You were never good at lying, Alyosha. Elia Tarallo is not in New York;
she’s right here in Chicago. Has she been poisoning your ear with her lies?”

In that moment, he sounded just like my father… Let’s fly away together,
Aleks. Just you and me, the ghost whispered again.

“No, Uncle, she has not,” I said. “But perhaps you’d like to explain what
lies you think Elia is poisoning my ear with?”

“The lie that I might be working against you,” he replied. “Now this is all
starting to make sense. Why you’ve continued to treat me like an enemy
ever since the wedding. Why you chose to meet here, of all places.”

He stared at me, his incredulity almost believable. “What would you

suspect me of?” He spread his hands wide. “Do you imagine me to have
been planning behind your back? Or has she somehow convinced you that I
killed your father? He was my brother, Alyosha, my flesh and blood! What
else has that viper said to you?”

How funny, Uncle—you call her a viper now, after I said it was you who put
her in my bed…

“Alyosha…” he continued. “Alyosha, you need to trust me. We must be

united as a family. All of us! Perhaps if the two of you came to dinner.
Everything can be explained and questions answered.”

Anger flared. There was no way in hell I was about to let him anywhere
near Elia. “No.”
His eyes suddenly turned cold before the blank expression settled back on
his face. “What did you say to me?”

“I said no, Mikhail Yevgenievich.” I stepped closer to him, feeling a savage

satisfaction surging when he stepped back. “I am still your pakhan, and this
is an order: you will speak no more of my wife, and you will not come close
to my wife. Is that understood?”

“Alyosha…” he started, hands still clenching and unclenching.

“I asked once. I will not ask again. Is that understood?”

Finally, he unclenched his hands and breathed out. His eyes closed and he
nodded. “It is understood, Aleksey Fyodorovich. But I strongly advise that
you make something clear to her as well. Let her know that if she even so
much as thinks about betraying you, I will not hesitate to teach her a sharp
lesson.”

My eye twitched at that familiar phrase so loved by my father. He’d taught

me a sharp lesson once. And the ghost had haunted me ever since.

“Is that a threat, Uncle?”

“Only if she makes it one,” he said. “Give your wife my regards. I have
other matters that require my attention.”

Without another word, he turned around and walked away, each step faster
than the last. Without sparing him a second glance, I walked away as well—
wanting nothing more than to lay my eyes on my wife and get her the fuck
out of Chicago as fast as I could.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aleksey

Elia was in the kitchen when I walked into the penthouse and tossed my
jacket aside. Her eyes followed my every movement as I took a drink from
the bar, throwing it back to let the liquid burn down my throat.

“Well?” she asked, leaning against the island.

“He lied the entire time,” I answered. “The entire fucking time!”

I didn’t even notice she had approached me until her hand landed on my
arm, halting me from pouring another drink. “It’s going to be okay, Aleksey.
We will figure it out.”

Blowing out a breath, I looked at her. “You are going to New York
tomorrow.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I knew I had to do it.
Uncle Misha was too dangerous. I needed her somewhere where she could
be protected.

I needed her to be safe more than ever.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You are going back to New York,” I repeated. “I need you out of Chicago
for a little while, until I can come get you.”

She removed her hand from my arm and crossed her arms over her chest.
“No.”

Letting out a dark laugh, I finished pouring my drink, placing the stopper
back in the bottle. “I told you this wasn’t up for discussion.”

“Aleksey.”

I looked at her, feeling a twinge in my chest as I did. Elia had become the
most important person in my world.
“You must.”

“I’m safer here with you.” She swallowed. “Don’t you realize that? If we
are separated, then your uncle will have the opportunity to move against
you.”

I reached for her, wrapping my hands around her upper arms. “And against
you,” I said tightly, attempting not to notice how her skin felt against my
hands. “I need you safe.”

Her gaze softened. “Are you worried about me, Aleksey?”

“Of course.” More than she would ever know. “You are carrying my child.
This will all be temporary,” I added, hoping that she would see reason in
my words. “And once I get everything under control, I will come for you. I
promise.”

She carefully removed my hands from her arms, only to slide her own
around my neck, pulling me against her body. I groaned as I felt her
softness pressing into my hard planes, and my cock rose in my pants,
begging for release.

“You can’t tempt me to make you stay,” I grated out.

“Is that what I’m doing?” she asked innocently, her fingers toying with the
hair that brushed my collar.

My hands found her hips, fingering the flimsy tank top and tiny shorts that
separated her alluring flesh from me. “I’m not changing my mind.”

The smirk on her face told me that my words weren’t going to stop her from
trying. “You want me to leave you and go to New York?”

“Yes.”
“And what will you do when I’m gone?” she taunted, her hands sliding over
my shoulders. “Are you going to jerk off in the shower?”

“I can handle myself.”

Elia let out a breathy laugh. Her hands slid down my chest, past the buttons
on my shirt and the buckle of my belt, until they rested at my bulging cock.
“Doesn’t feel like it to me.”

My blood heated, knowing that she was exactly right.

Her hands made their way back up. Deft fingers worked my buttons until
the dress shirt fell to the floor a moment later. She trailed over my bare
chest, nails scraping gingerly over my skin and sending goose bumps
sprouting in their wake.

“Are you sure?” Elia asked, standing up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over
the underside of my jaw. “Don’t you know what you’ll be missing?”

“Elia.”

Her hands moved past my belt buckle again, cupping me through the front
of my pants. “Hmm?”

A groan slipped through my lips before I could stop it, pressing into her
hand desperately, my body betraying me. “You’re killing me.”

“No, Aleksey,” she said softly, her lips on my neck now. “I haven’t even
started yet.”

I didn’t want to send her away. When she was here, my life was different. I
was different.

Suddenly, her teasing hands went away. “I better start packing then.”

With a growl, I pressed her up against the glass. I dipped my head to

breathe in her scent. “What gave you the right to tease me like this?”
She leaned her head back, giving me more access to her long, beautiful
neck. “The day you put the ring on my finger.”

“Maybe you need to be taught a lesson,” I said. “About what a meek wife
does.”

Elia gasped as I nipped at the sensitive skin on her neck. “I will never be a
meek wife.”

She might infuriate me at times, but it only turned me on when she did. I
ground against her, letting her feel what she did to me. My hand ran down
her side possessively, tugging at the waistband of her shorts.

“Tell me you will obey,” I whispered in her ear. “Or face the
consequences.”

“Do your worst.” Her husky laugh sent a wave of need through my body,
nearly bringing me to my knees. “And show me what kind of punishment
you have in mind.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty
Elia

I was challenging my husband and I liked it.

From the way Aleksey was responding to my teasing, I suspected that he

liked it as well. This was the husband I ached for, the one who didn’t look
like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. I knew that
something was wrong from the moment he walked through the door

Deep down, I knew his uncle would lie to him. Whatever had been planned
or had been part of his uncle’s planning never involved having Aleksey
come out on top.

Unfortunately, that meant I was going to be yet another pawn in a game I

wanted nothing to do with. The reality was that Aleksey and I were more
alike than either of us expected or wanted to be. And as much as I wanted to
hate him—God knew I’d tried—I couldn’t.

Not when he was kissing my neck like he was right now. My body was on
fire, a slow, flickering fire stoked by his every touch and caress.

But this was all a distraction. He still wanted to send me away to New York,
away from his side, no matter my protests. We had to be a team right now;
we had to stay together against forces arrayed against us. I had thought for
sure that he would understand this.

I would miss him. Whenever I thought about not seeing him, my heart
squeezed painfully in my chest.

Had I really fallen that quickly for him?

Frustrated by the thought, I slipped out from under the cage of his body.
When he turned, I pushed him against the glass wall.

“I want my turn first,” I told him.

“There’s no want.” His eyes darkened. “You’ll need to earn it.”

Oh, I planned to.

Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his bare chest right above his heart
and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath above me. I didn’t look up,
hoping that he wasn’t taking the placement in too much context. I wasn’t
sure what I meant with that gesture, or why I decided to start there, of all
places.

But it just felt right. Everything I did with Aleksey felt right.

And that was enough to terrify me.

My hand wandered down to his abdomen, scraping my nails over his skin.
He was beautiful, too beautiful for his—or my—good.

I moved over to his other pec, rewarding it with the same attention.

When my hand lowered to his belt buckle, he reached for it, forcing me to
break contact with his skin and look up.

“Elia,” he said, swallowing hard. “Should you be doing this?”

My lips curved into a smile as I undid his belt. “I’m pregnant, Aleksey, not
dying.”

I tugged on the waistband of his pants and pulled them down his lean hips,
my mouth wetting in anticipation as his cock sprang out, nodding in time
with his heartbeat.

“Already ready,” I murmured, gripping him lightly.

“For you?” he choked out, pressing himself into my palm greedily.

“Always.”
A secret thrill ran up my spine at the thought of him thinking about me
enough to cause his cock to be hard as a rock. He always had a way of
making me feel wanted. And in those moments, it made me believe that
there could be some good in this marriage, a good in this union that neither
his uncle nor my father could destroy.

That was enough hope for me to cling to.

Tracing him with my finger, I lowered myself to the floor, my knees

rocking on the cold floor. When I looked up, Aleksey was staring intently,
his jaw clenched.

“What do you want, husband?” I breathed, brushing my fingers over him

from root to tip. “Do you want it hard and fast until you can’t breathe?” His
eyes widened. “Or slow and steady until your cum fills my dirty little
mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “What about both?”

“Greedy, greedy.” I smiled.

After just a few strokes that left me as impatient as he was, I took him into
my mouth. He hissed his pleasure in response, and both of his hands fisted
into my hair. But unlike before, they weren’t there to guide me. They felt
like they were holding on for dear life.

I traced him with my tongue, sucking and humming with each stroke until
his hands were so tight in my hair that I felt him tugging at the root of my
hair. The light pain excited me. It reminded me that I was in control right
now. That I had his cock and balls in my hand and mouth. That if I wanted
to, I could make him beg. I could make him get on his knees.

Wouldn’t that be a sight to see?

As my head bobbed up and down the length of his shaft, I felt my own
wetness drenching me. My body thrummed in anticipation of the inevitable
moment when our roles would switch and it would be my turn to feel his
mouth on my skin. Yet I was enjoying myself far too much right now.

Aleksey swore when I wrapped my fingers around the shaft to pump him
while I continued sucking the tip, drawing circles with my tongue around
his sensitive head. He was close; I could feel it. He was so close that I had
to hold myself back from going too fast, even if I wanted him to fill my
mouth with his musky seed. When he tried to pull me away, I reached up to
cup his shapely ass, pulling him closer to me to warn him not to.

I wanted all of him.

He started to thrust his hips toward my mouth, and I surrendered myself to

his motions. Relaxing my jaw, I let him fuck my mouth and throat. Saliva
and precum leaked from the corner of my mouth as he used my mouth
roughly.

I took his cock dutifully. The thick head punched against the back of my
throat, and I leaned back to hand control back to him. Pulses of hungry
pleasure ran through my body as I felt him stiffen. And then he came.

Hot, delicious spurts of semen splashed my lips, tongue, and throat. I

greedily swallowed him, not wasting a single drop as I pushed my lips
further along the shaft until he came directly down my throat. Pursing my
lips, I held him in my mouth until his cock finally started to soften. Then,
and only then, did I release him, licking the remnants of his cum from the
corner of my lips.

“Elia.” His voice was strained.

I wiped my lips and rose to my feet until I met his gaze. “Is that all you can
say?”

His grin was feral as he reached out with his thumb and touched the corner
of my mouth. “I will dream about those lips while you are away.”

“Then don’t send me,” I replied evenly. I didn’t want to leave him.
“I have to,” he replied. “My uncle knows that I was testing him. He saw
right through the ruse. He knows you’re pregnant, and he knows you’re still
here. The only way you can be safe—truly safe—from him is to be in New
York.”

“I still don’t understand why you think that I’ll be safer in New York rather
than next to you,” I pleaded.

“Because he made a threat,” my husband finally admitted.

Reality splashed me like cold water. Suddenly, our brief respite from the
argument felt like an unwelcome intruder between something much more
important.

Trembling, I placed my hand on my husband’s chest and felt it racing.

“What sort of threat?”

He stared back at me. For a moment, he didn’t seem to know the right
words to use. Then, he covered my hand with his and admitted, in a voice
no louder than a strained whisper,

“That he won’t hesitate to teach you a sharp lesson.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-One
Aleksey

I stepped out of the car before reaching in and helping Elia out into the
warm sunshine. It was a beautiful day in Chicago, one where the sun hung
high overhead without a cloud in the sky. It would almost be a perfect day
to be on the water sailing.

But I wouldn’t be doing that today. Today I was seeing my wife off to New
York without me, and I didn’t like the way I felt about doing it. I was in a
foul mood already from not having enough slept the night before, worrying
half the night that I might be making a mistake by sending her to her father.

Actually, I knew I was making a fucking huge mistake. But I wasn’t going
to relay that to anyone. Even this morning, as I buried myself in Elia’s
warmth, listening to her breathe, I thought about the cold bed I would return
to tonight.

She wouldn’t be there.

I didn’t want to think about what that would feel like. It was an unsettling
feeling.

“Aleksey?”

Shaking out of my thoughts, I looked down at my wife. She was anxious. I

could see it in her eyes. “Yes, dear?”

She gave me a small smile. “You had the oddest look on your face.”

“Just thinking,” I said, my words not far from the truth. Elia didn’t need to
know what I had been thinking or how much I wanted to put her back into
the car and forget I ever decided to do this. “Are you ready?”

Elia nodded and I glanced at Boris, who had that familiar grin on his face.
There was no one else that I would trust my wife to other than him. I wasn’t
about to send her back to her father without one of my men watching her. If
nothing else, Boris would keep me informed that she was indeed safe.

“You know what you have,” I told him.

His smile faded and he gave me a solemn nod, the unsaid words passing
between us. He was well aware of Elia’s pregnancy and the duty that now
fell on his shoulders.

Turning back to Elia, I framed her face with my hands, brushing my thumbs
over her cheeks lightly. “Do not go anywhere without Boris,” I told her. “I
need you to promise me that you won’t.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s going to be hard to pee with him watching.”
“Elia, I’m serious.”

“Fine, yes. I got it,” she sighed. “Now kiss me and send me on my way,
Aleksey. Before I climb back in that car and refuse to leave.”

I was going to miss the hell out of her. Lowering my head, I brushed my
lips over hers once, then twice. “If you need anything, Boris knows what to
do.”

Elia reached up and cupped my cheek, her eyes searching mine. “Be
careful, Aleksey. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Elia pressed her forehead to mine for a moment and I breathed in her scent
before she pulled away, every fiber in my being telling me not to let her go.
Things had been so good between us lately. My fucking life was better
lately because of her.

Instead, I walked back to the car where Sergei waited. He was the brigadier
who would take Boris’s place while he traveled to New York with Elia.
“Take me home,” I told him, shutting the door behind me.
He gave me a nod and the car pulled away, giving me a parting glance of
Elia climbing on board the private jet.

I could only hope I hadn’t made a decision that was going to destroy me in
the end.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Two
Aleksey

When I arrived back at the penthouse, I found my uncle and mother there.

My uncle was seated at the island in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey before
him, and Mother sat next to him. She had a concerned look on her face. One
that I didn’t want to deal with.

“Alyosha,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “I hope you don’t mind us
dropping by.”

“Of course not,” I said smoothly, walking over to the bar myself and
schooling my expression.

“Misha told me the good news, and I just wanted to see her myself. Where
is Elia?”

“She’s not here, Mother,” I replied. “I sent her home to New York so that
she might be with her father for a few weeks. Or did Mikhail Yevgenievich
forget to mention that?”

My mother looked crestfallen. “No,” she said. “No, he didn’t tell me that at
all.”

“There’s a lot of that happening nowadays,” I said as I poured a drink, my

hand tightening around the glass. “Wouldn’t you agree, Uncle?”

“I thought your lovely wife would be here,” he said casually. “I’m baffled
that you would send her to her father when she’s pregnant. I mean, traveling
in her condition is stressful for the baby, Alyosha.”

I turned my gaze toward him. “You can drop the act, Uncle.”

My uncle’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Alyosha?”

“It’s Aleksey Fyodorovich when I’m talking about business,” I growled,
reminding him that I didn’t care for the endearing name from his lying lips.

“Apologies.” He dipped his head. “But Raissa Antonovna is here. Is this

really the time for us to be discussing business?”

“It is.” I tossed my drink back bitterly. “Because I think this is an

opportunity for us all to be honest with each other.”

“Alyosha, what are you talking about?” Mother asked.

“Uncle Misha has plans to take what is rightfully mine.”

He stared at me for a moment before breaking out into a laugh. “Is this a
joke, Alyosha? Because it isn’t very funny.”

“I agree,” I said. “It’s not funny. But you must admit, Uncle, things look
awfully suspicious for you. I mean, Father dies, and you marry Mother
before his body is even cold in the ground. You forbid me from attending
his own funeral. You tell me that I’m to marry Elia Tarallo, and now you
accuse her of poisoning my thoughts. I just want an honest answer out of
you, Uncle. What are you planning?”

“Alyosha,” Mother said. “Alyosha, please. I know it was hard for you not to
attend your father’s funeral, but Misha and I felt that you would’ve taken it
poorly.”

“I would’ve taken it poorly?” I turned my gaze towards her. “Did neither of

you think that I might want to be at his funeral? To have some closure?”

“We just thought that…” Mother laced her fingers and shook her head.
“After that unpleasant affair with…with…”

Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me. The ghost returned, and I
stared daggers at my mother, daring her to say the name.

She looked up, and tears were swimming in her eyes. “With Svetlana.”
A single word, a single name, and that was all that it took to bring back
those horrible memories that I thought I’d forgotten but merely suppressed.
The screams. The smells. The feeling of Father’s heavy hands on my
shoulder as he whispered in my ear.

Let this be a sharp lesson to you, Alyosha. Never forget this.

“It was you?” I asked quietly. “You were the one who convinced him to
forbid me from attending Father’s funeral?”

“Alyosha, I know you.” Mother took my hand in hers. “I know how you
would have reacted. I’ve seen it in you since you were just a little boy. You
would’ve wanted to hurt your father. To curse his memory. And as much as
your father and I had our differences, I truly believed that he deserved a
singular moment of peace.”

“A singular moment you didn’t want me to ruin.” I snatched my hand from

her grip. “And how long had you been fucking him before Father died?”

“Aleksey, enough!” Uncle Misha stood up. “I will not have you speak to
your mother like this!”

“You are my uncle and my subordinate, Mikhail Yevgenievich,” I snarled.

“You have no right to tell me what to do. I know what you’re planning
behind my back.” I glanced back at Mother. “And maybe she knows it too.”

“Stop it!” Mother tried to grab my hand again, but I refused her offer. “You
are my son, my flesh and blood! You were once a part of me. Or have you
forgotten that, Alyosha?”

“I want you both to leave.” I turned away from them and fought to keep my
voice even. “Now.”

I half expected a protest of some sort. But nothing came. Not even a sniffle
from my mother. Years of responding to my father’s capricious whims had
taught her better than to argue. They’d taught her that compliance was the
only way.

Footsteps carried them to the door and I heard it close. Only then did I turn
around. And found my uncle was still standing inside.

“You’re a fool, nephew,” he said. “I would never go against your father,

against this Bratva, or against you. Even if you insult me. Even if you break
your mother’s heart.”

“Do you think that you’re swaying me right now?”

“No.” He boldly took a step forward, smirking. “I don’t think I’m capable
of doing anything other than making you hate me. Even if I’m completely
innocent. Even if I’ve tried to tell you how you’re fucking up everything
that your father was working for.”

“Then why don’t you tell me, Uncle?” I snarled. “The more you keep this
information to yourself, the less I’m inclined to trust you!”

“I had hoped to tell you and your wife in person.”

“Why not just tell me? I can tell her at a later time.”

Uncle Misha chuckled darkly. “You think there’s a later time? You think
she’s coming back? You handed the keys to the kingdom right back to our
enemy.”

There it was again. That same word he’d used to describe Elia’s family:
enemy.

“Do you think Ludovico truly ever forgave us? Or you?” he asked calmly.
“Don’t you think he was playing some long game? I mean, a daughter
whose best friend works in the DA’s office. A long-running feud that cost
him his only son. A chance to get even. He took a gamble, hoping that you
would be the same hotheaded fool that couldn’t unseat him in ten years, and
it fucking worked.”
He approached closer, until our noses practically touched. “Do you think
you’re the only heir with the right to inherit?”

“Then why her?” I asked. “Why did anyone—Ludovico included—agree to

this?”

My uncle’s hand smacked my chest. “Because Ludovico was weak and had
no choice! We had him by the balls! Everything that he had was going to be
ours. I thought you would be capable of fucking his daughter until she was
pregnant without catching feelings for her. But maybe those years in New
York turned you sentimental.”

“And what about the Bogatyr?” I asked, changing the subject before I got
too angry. “What does he have to do with this? Actually, a better question.
Who the fuck is he?”

“Some asshole without a reputation that came up faster than any of us

expected. Tried to kill your father multiple times,” Uncle Misha replied.
“Right around the same time you got sent to New York. We always thought
he was someone on Ludovico’s payroll who’d get the message once you did
your job. But he kept going. Even after you killed Ludovico’s son. We
needed something else. Something that would get his attention. I didn’t
want to risk seeing you die at your father’s funeral. It would’ve broken your
mother’s heart harder than you just did. So, I convinced your mother that
you would’ve been too pissed off about seeing your father even all these
years after…well, you know.”

“Svetlana.”

“Yeah. Svetlana.”

“The wedding…” I felt my heart drop away as realization dawned. “So all
of this was just…”

“A ruse.” He sighed. “Look, Alyosha. I’m sorry to have kept this

information from you. But I had to. The Bogatyr is still out there. He’s still
working for Ludovico. He killed your father. And unfortunately for us all,
you did the one thing Ludovico wanted you to do. You gave him exactly
what he needed. His daughter carrying our heir back to his house.” He
looked around the penthouse. “Like I said, Alyosha. You are a fool.”

“Tread carefully, Uncle,” I warned. “She is still my wife, and she’s still
carrying my child.”

My uncle laughed. “So she is,” he said, a glint in his eyes. “But heed my
warning. She’s a means to an end. And the moment you forget that is the
moment her father will bury us. Bury you. And when that happens, there’s
nothing else I can do to stop it.”

I pushed my rage down deep, replacing it with a cold, calculating smile that
had been known to make grown men piss their pants. “Get out,” I said. “Get
out or I’ll throw you out, and I don’t mean through the door.”

He held up his hands. “Of course, nephew.” He reached for the door before
turning back toward me. “All I want is for you to trust your family a little
bit more and your wife a little bit less. She might have spread her legs for
you, might have even screamed like a whore for you. But she’s never going
to forget what you did to her brother. Blood will always run thicker, no
matter how nice her hot little cunt may feel.”

Without waiting for me to respond, he yanked the door open and slammed it
shut behind him. I was left alone in the silence of my penthouse.

A million thoughts swirled around my head, and every one of them drove
me toward a single horrifying question.

What if Uncle Misha wasn’t lying?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Three
Elia

I was home.

I looked around the bedroom that had been mine for as long as I could
remember, trying to draw out the warmth that I had found back then. The
walls were still the same dreamy blue, so light that it looked white in the
right lighting.

The familiar white comforter that I had picked out years ago to match the
decor was still on the bed. The furniture was as white as the plush carpeting
under my bare feet.

Lacking were any personal effects, having been boxed up and placed in
storage after my wedding to Aleksey. But other than that, this room was
almost exactly how I remembered it.

The emptiness didn’t surprise me. That was how my father would have
preferred it to be: keeping everything neat and orderly without the
decorative frills, as he called them. He didn’t see the reason to have
anything sentimental in his life. Never had.

I hadn’t even seen him since I arrived about two hours ago, exhausted from
traveling. I chalked it up to the pregnancy and was thankful that the
distance between Chicago and New York was a short and manageable one.

Boris, true to Aleksey’s word, had escorted me all the way to this bedroom
before promising to be only a phone call away if I got into any sort of
trouble. I was glad that he was here with me. I wasn’t Elia Tarallo any
longer. I was Elia Korolev and married to my family’s worst enemy. I had
slept in the same bed as my brother’s killer, and I carried his child in my
belly.

One would’ve been enough for me to have a target within the Tarallo Mafia
itself. But two? I was almost surprised that I hadn’t been greeted at the door
by a gang of my father’s men, ready to make me a hostage. I hugged myself
tightly, suddenly wishing that Aleksey had come.

Just thinking about my husband made my chest ache. I already missed him,
which in itself was ridiculous since we’d just seen each other this morning.
Was it because I had spent practically every waking moment by his side
since our wedding night? Or was it something else?

Was it because I had real feelings for him?

Drawing in a breath, I looked in the mirror behind the door, deciding to

focus on my outfit and not the fact that I craved Aleksey the way I did. I
had gone for an understated look tonight: a sheer black shirt over a cami top
and a pair of skinny jeans. My hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
Father had already sent word by text that he wanted to have dinner together,
and I knew I had to go in there as Aleksey’s wife and not Ludovico’s
daughter.

He was never going to take me seriously, no matter what sort of title I had.
It was the truth of it all.

What he didn’t realize was that I had a hidden agenda. I needed answers to
my own questions, starting with the fact of why he didn’t give me Luca’s
pin. He knew what it meant to me, and he had no use for it.

Had he thrown it in the trash when Aleksey sent it back? Perhaps. It was
something he would do.

Glancing at my watch, I opened the door and made my way down to the
dining room, where the delicious smells of dinner filled the air. Even
though I was five minutes early, Father was already at the table, his phone
pressed to his ear.

“I don’t give a shit about who you have to call,” he barked into the phone,
not even looking up as I entered. “You make it happen, or I will forget that
you ever existed and everyone else will as well!”
I took my customary seat, pulling the napkin off the plate as I did so.
Household staff immediately swarmed in and I allowed them to pour me
both wine and water, not wanting to tip off my father just yet that I was
pregnant. I gave them a faint smile, looked at the salad that had been set
before me, and remembered the days when Father would only allow me to
eat salads at home.

He had been concerned, as he put it, about my figure and the fact that I was
“projecting” a lazy image of myself that was unbecoming.

As a result, salads became a way of life for months, until he was satisfied
that I looked my part and moved on to something else.

I’d hated salads in this house ever since then.

A few minutes later, he ended the call and placed his cell in the pocket of
his suit coat.

“Elia.” He greeted me with an almost bored tone to his voice.

“Father.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised he has sent you back so soon. I didn’t think he
would grow tired of you so quickly.”

I gripped my fork in my hand, keeping my anger under control. “My

husband thought I would like to come home for a visit,” I said, my tone the
same false pleasantry that I had used for years. “Was he wrong?”

His eyes finally met mine, and I saw the tightness of his mouth. “Of course
not. You are my daughter and my heir. You are welcome in my home any
time you would like.”

His home. The day he died, I would burn this damn house to the ground.
“Thank you, Father.”
“Had I known,” he continued as I stabbed at the salad with my fork. “I
would have invited some of our friends to join us. You are fortunate that I
was in town.”

“I’m sorry for not letting you know ahead of time,” I murmured and forced
myself to shove the lettuce into my mouth. The familiar empty taste on my
tongue nearly had me gagging, but I persevered. I was not about to show
my father weakness. “I’m glad to be home,” I lied.

He grunted and we lapsed into silence, the only sounds our silverware
scraping across the porcelain plates as we ate.

I left the customary amount of salad on my plate and pushed it aside,

wondering what would happen if I had brought my husband with me. Alone
with my father, I was terrified of what he might do or his next action. But if
Aleksey were at my side, I wouldn’t fear him so badly.

Sadness crept into my soul as I thought about Aleksey. What was he doing?
Was he worried about me like I was about him? Did he miss me?

“You haven’t touched your wine, Elia.” Father’s voice snapped me out of
my thoughts. Of course he would notice that.

“I have a headache tonight,” I lied, picking up the water instead. “From

traveling.”

His shrewd eyes locked on me and narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, Elia.”

I didn’t respond as I took a gulp of my water, my stomach clenching. There

was no doubt in my mind that he knew. He always had ways of knowing.
“I…”

He waved a hand in my direction, silencing me. “You’re pregnant, aren’t

you?”

And there it was. The way it had always been. He’d figured out my secrets
without so much as a single question. There was no point hiding any longer.
“Yes,” I admitted, keeping my shoulders straight. “I am pregnant.”

Unexpectedly, a smile spread across my father’s face as he settled back into

his chair. “You should be pleased. You have accomplished exactly what you
should have.”

The way he said that left me feeling gross and violated. I didn’t want to
think that was all that mattered to him: how I had been sold off like a
broodmare. And all for what? To advance his cause? To advance his goals?

Carefully, I pushed back the chair. “I don’t feel so well.”

“Sit.” He stood up, irritation on his face. “And eat.”

Shaking my head, I placed my napkin on my still-full plate. “I’m sorry,

Father. I can’t.”

“Unacceptable!” He slammed his palm on the table. “You will sit, and you
will finish your meal!”

I couldn’t take it any longer. “You know what is unacceptable? The fact that
you hid Luca’s pin from me! You knew that I gave it to him! You knew it
mattered to me! Why didn’t you give it to me when Aleksey returned it to
you?”

My father stared at me for a full minute. “What the fuck are you talking
about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” I shot back, clenching my hand into a
fist. “Just give it to me.”

That was all I wanted, but not because it was my brother’s. I wanted some
proof that Aleksey wasn’t lying to me about it. I wanted to believe my
husband. I wanted to believe that he had been truly remorseful for killing
my brother.
Because it would make what my life had become a hell of a lot easier.

“I don’t have it,” he finally said. “Korolev must have kept it as a trophy
after killing Luca.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He told me he gave it back to you.”

The slap came out of nowhere, my ears ringing and my cheek burning from
his hand. I stumbled back, blinking to clear the tears that had suddenly
welled in my eyes.

He pointed his finger at me like a gun. “Don’t you fucking dare call me a
liar!”

“Then at least let me see Luca’s grave!” I fought back, swallowing the
emotion in my voice. It wasn’t the first time my father had hit me, but
dammit, it was going to be the last. This would be the last time I was in his
presence if he didn’t give me what I wanted.

I was tired of doing his bidding.

“You will not disturb the dead because of some lie that your husband told
you.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” I answered. “I know it wasn’t!”

A short laugh escaped my father. “Then you are a bigger fool than I had
thought. If you came back to New York for this, then you’ve been sent here
on an empty goose chase. You should go back to Chicago, search his
belongings. I’m sure you’ll find the pin that you’re looking for, and you
will know who has really been lying to you.”

I snorted. His words couldn’t be further from the truth. “You have always
manipulated me,” I said softly, my cheek throbbing. “Even with Dylan.”

“So you want to dredge up the memory of every single dead person
tonight?” My father stepped forward. I fought the urge to shrink back from
his presence. “Do you not realize that I always protected you and your
brother?”

“Protected?” I countered. “Is that what you call it? You murdered Dylan.
You sent Luca to his death. And now you’ve married me to the man who
killed him!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” he bellowed. “Do you know what I
sacrificed by handing you over to Korolev? If I had been given a choice,
you would never have married the bastard.”

His words shocked me to my core. A choice? He hadn’t wanted me to

marry Aleksey? But he had signed the agreement. He had chosen to unite
us.

Right?

“You are my heir, Elia,” he added. “Do you really believe that I would have
given you away like this?”

He wasn’t wrong…And God help me, I believed him. My father had always
put the Mafia first, which meant that the Korolevs had forced him into this.

Oh God. Did Aleksey know? Did he know what had been on the table the
day that the agreement was signed?

Was he part of the plan to ruin my family? Had he truly deceived me?

“Go home to that bastard,” he finished, his shoulders slumped. I had never
seen my father so downtrodden before, and suddenly I was worried, very
worried. “Find out the truth from him. He took my son, and now he’s trying
to turn my daughter against me.”

I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. I had been so sure that my father
was the bad guy in this scenario, as he had been nearly all my life, but now,
seeing him like this, I felt small seeds of doubt start to infiltrate my mind.
What if—what if he was telling the truth and Aleksey was the one lying?

What was I going to do?

“When you find out the truth, you come back home to me and we will start
to plan the revenge that we owe Luca.”

After that, l quit the dining room, stumbling up the stairs to the safety of my
bedroom, even going as far as to lock the door. I debated calling Aleksey,
then Lana, but ultimately decided to call neither. Nobody else could know.
This wasn’t a conversation to be had over the phone.

I needed to see Aleksey’s reaction in person.

Slumping against the door, I tried to calm the sudden shaking that overcame
my body. I could be sleeping with a liar, a man who was better at
manipulation than my own father was.

It meant that I had bought into everything he had told me, everything that
he had done to make me turn a blind eye to what the truth truly was.

Oh God…I had trusted him. I had thought I could love him. I’d begged him
to fuck me…I’d begged to stay with him this morning. I had willingly
gotten on my knees for him.

Shaking my head, I pushed away from the door and headed to the
bathroom, stripping off the outfit as I went. It couldn’t be true. Aleksey had
promised me that I would be safe with him. He had told me that I could
trust him, no matter what. After all, if he had thought I might risk learning
the truth from my father tonight, would he have really sent me home like
this?

I turned on the water to the shower, and after testing the temperature,
stepped underneath the spray, letting it hit my sore body. I couldn’t jump to
conclusions, not yet. I needed proof of which way I should turn, and if my
father was refusing to admit that he had the pin, then I needed to prove that
Aleksey did not.
It was going to be the only way I could believe my own husband.

Pressing my forehead to the cool stone wall, I let the tears fall, knowing that
some of this emotion was because of my pregnancy. Was it wrong to hope
that Aleksey wasn’t trying to lie to me and that my father, the man who had
given me a nightmare of a life, was wrong?

Just when I thought that my life was starting to come together, it was now
falling hopelessly apart. I didn’t know what to do. If Aleksey had lied to
me, I was going to be devastated, even more now that I was carrying his
child.

I had to go back.

I had to see Aleksey and find out for sure.

No matter what the outcome might be.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Four
Ludovico
Earlier that day

I walked into my study and closed the door behind me out of habit. Even
though I knew nobody would disturb me here, I had no intention of being
caught by surprise.

After years of keeping my hands just clean enough to keep the law at bay, I
had gotten fucking good at hiding my hand until the right moment.

Walking over to my desk, I sat down in the chair behind it and pulled open
the drawer to retrieve what I came to get. Things were about to be set into
motion, and all I needed to do was give them that final necessary push.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text. A seed was about to be planted, and
soon that seed would grow into a tree in my favor.

It wasn’t long before the soft knock came at my door. I checked the time to
make certain that I still had a few more hours before my wayward daughter
showed up.

“Enter,” I barked out. The door opened, and one of my household staff
showed my associate in. He was the envoy of a mysterious benefactor
known only to me as the Bogatyr when we first met after Luca’s death.

There was no need to exchange names back then. He’d told me that the
Bogatyr and I were both after the same thing: to end the Korolev line in
revenge after they butchered my son.

Over the years, the Bogatyr had been nothing if not useful, always three
steps ahead of the law, the Korolevs, and anyone who might become a
threat against me. When Berkowitz cracked down on the city, it was the
Bogatyr who tipped me off. When the organized crime of the city got swept
up, my hands stayed clean.
So, I had held up my end of the bargain. Together, we’d schemed and
planned. I’d never met the man, but I knew he was a terrifyingly cunning
strategist.

And when he urged that I send my daughter—my sole remaining heir—to

the Korolevs, I had acted without hesitation.

Now, the Bogatyr had proved useful once again. He had warned me that my
daughter was coming home—unexpected and unforeseen, but not altogether
unwelcome.

His envoy now stood before me with his hands clasped before him. “Are
you ready for what comes next, Don Tarallo?”

“I am.” I nodded, reached into the drawer, and retrieved two items: an
envelope of money and a tiny pin that was all I had of my son. Such a small
thing, yet it felt unbearably heavy in my hand. And for a moment, I was
reluctant to let it go.

The man quickly thumbed through the money. Satisfied with the amount, he
tucked it into his pocket and picked up the pin.

“Will this work?” I asked.

He smirked. “Has the Bogatyr ever been wrong?”

No… I admitted silently. Never.

The man took the pin and clutched it in his fist carelessly and for a moment,
I fought the urge to wrest it out of his hand.

“I will let you know when it’s done.”

I stared at him. “See that you do.”

Without another word, he was gone. I slumped back in my chair, sighing. I

was alone. Luca had been gone for years, and Elia…I clenched my fist at
the thought of Aleksey Korolev putting his hands on my little girl. The
same hands stained with the blood of my son.

It hadn’t been easy to sign her away. But it was part of the plan, the
Bogatyr’s envoy had assured me. It would be how both of us got what we
wanted.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Five
Elia
The next morning

“You wanted to see me?” I asked tiredly at the doorway.

My father looked up and looked at me in the doorway. My face had bruised

from where my father had slapped me last night, and no amount of
concealer could hide it properly. I had also slept like shit all night, trying to
put together just who was telling the truth and who was lying to me.

This must be exactly what Father wanted me to do. All my life, he’d been
planting seeds of doubt in my own mind and gaslighting me until he was
the only person that I could believe. I wished I could say that it didn’t work.
But even now, I had my doubts about what Aleksey had told me.

He pushed up out of the chair and walked out from behind his desk. His
face was arrayed in a way that looked almost like contrition.

“I want to apologize for my behavior last night,” he said, surprising me. “I

was out of line.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. This wasn’t the father that I knew. “You never
apologize, much less to me.”

“Perhaps I’m turning over a new leaf,” he shrugged. “You are carrying my
grandchild, even if he or she will be a Korolev.”

My hand instinctively flew to my belly. Something in the way my father

said those words sent a chill down my spine. He must have another plan in
place, something that involved my child, and the only reason he was
apologizing was to make me more compliant.

He wanted something out of me. He needed something out of me.

“Don’t lie to me, Father.” I shook my head. “Just tell me the truth. What are
you after?”
“I’ve never lied to you.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “All my life, you’ve lied to me. And now you
sit there and dare to tell me otherwise?”

“You’re right,” Father said. “There is something that I want from you.”

I waited with bated breath.

“I want you to believe that Aleksey Korolev never sent Luca’s pin back.
And I can prove it.”

And just like that, my heart shattered again. He didn’t care about me. He
didn’t care about Luca. He just wanted to be right.

“You know,” I started. “All my life, I hoped that you might change. But I
know for a fact that you haven’t.”

“Elia, I told you,” he said. “I was out of line yesterday. I hadn’t expected to
see you or to hear you accuse me of being a liar so soon after coming home.
Well, I acted with my heart and not my head.”

He stood up, and I recoiled out of familiar fear.

“To make it up to you.” He beckoned me to his desk. “You can search this
desk, where you’ll find things that you were never meant to see. Letters to
your mother. Drawings that you and your brother made as children. But do
you know what I don’t have in there that you accuse me of having?”

I closed my eyes, and a small whisper escaped my lips. “Don’t.”

“Luca’s pin.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He took my hand more gingerly than he’d ever done, and I felt something
small and cold press into my palm. When I opened my eyes, I saw it was
the key to his desk.

“Then search it for yourself.”

My hands shook as I looked back at him. Was this a test? All my life, I’d
found myself tested by my father, but never like this. He never allowed me
anywhere near this desk except the other side of it.

“Go on,” he urged.

Trembling, I inserted the key into the first drawer and unlocked it. Within it
were papers and deeds of the different properties he owned all across the
city. Lana would have a field day with this… I thought. But no pin.

I unlocked the next drawer, and true to what he said, I found letters he had
written to Mother when they were young. Their different handwritings
stared back at me from the years—his were wild unkempt scribbles, and
hers were neat orderly lines. I placed them back. No pin.

The next drawer contained a gun and loose bullets. For a moment, I dared
to think that one of the bullets was the pin. But it wasn’t here either.

Finally, I unlocked the last drawer and gasped. He wasn’t lying. Pages after
pages of drawings from when Luca and I were kids. Uncoordinated lines in
crayon, markers, and colored pencil. Some I had forgotten. Others, I still
remembered as if I’d drawn them yesterday.

But still, no pin.

My father had been telling me the truth.

Trembling, I placed the key back on the desk and quickly walked away.

“Elia,” he called out to me.

I stopped at the door, fighting to keep the tears back as Luca’s voice
whispered from the deepest recesses of my mind. Tarallos are made of
stronger stuff.

“You always have a home here,” Father said, and drove the final nail into
the coffin. “You can always come home.”

I took a deep, shaking breath, not knowing how I might respond or how I
wanted to respond. All I knew in that moment was that I couldn’t stay in
this office. Because then I might never muster up the strength to return to
Chicago with this new horrific knowledge.

My husband was a liar.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Six
Elia

The jet taxied on the runway and I drew in a breath, my heart pounding in
my chest. I was back in Chicago, a rainy Chicago at that. The weather
matched my current mood. Nothing could lift the heaviness from my chest
or make me feel any safer. Not after my discovery.

I should have felt safe returning here. I should have felt like I was returning
home.

Instead, I felt like I was a raft being tossed about on a sea of uncertainty. I
didn’t want to believe my father. But he had proved that he was telling the
truth. He didn’t have Luca’s pin. At least not in his office.

So now, I had to search a second place. I had to confirm with my own eyes
that Aleksey had been lying to me.

“Welcome home, princess,” Boris announced from his seat across the aisle,
standing up as the jet finally came to a jerky halt.

I avoided his eyes as I undid my seat belt, hoping that he wouldn’t notice
any immediate change in me. I had done my best to look impassive and
unreadable, but something told me that Boris saw right through everything.

I wasn’t even sure if I could trust him. After all, he worked for Aleksey and
was one of Aleksey’s most trusted men. If I couldn’t trust Aleksey, then I
needed to have my guard up against him as well.

Suddenly I wished that I had called Lana while I was in New York. I had
resisted the urge to call her because I didn’t want to get her further involved
than necessary. But now…

The stairs were lowered from the plane, and I walked down them carefully,
Boris hot on my heels. To my surprise, Aleksey wasn’t waiting for me
outside with a car.
“Where is he?” I asked lightly as I reached the bottom step.

“He must be still busy. He told me that he would meet you back at the
penthouse,” Boris replied.

I tried not to let his words bother me as I walked to the car and climbed into
the cool leather interior. I had texted Aleksey to let him know that I was
returning home today. I’d told him that all was well, even though nothing
was.

He had only told me good night, and I’d spent the rest of the night lying in
bed, wondering what it meant. There was no follow-up text. He didn’t even
bother calling. It was almost as, if in the short time that we were apart, both
of us had remembered the circumstances of our marriage.

Had he realized that he was happier when I wasn’t here? I had thought we
were in a different place right before I left. But now, after my own
realizations, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

I hated that my father had gotten into my head! It was what he did best. He
poisoned people against themselves and made them believe that he was
their savior before he crushed them. I had seen his manipulations and been
the target of many instances of it my entire life.

Yet this…this didn’t feel like he was manipulating me. This felt genuine.
And that was what frightened me the most. Because now, as the car raced
out of O’Hare airport, I kept asking the same question over and over again:

Can I keep trusting Aleksey?

As much as I wanted to do so, I knew I wouldn’t be able to move forward

until I could confirm that he hadn’t been lying to me either. And there was
only one way to prove that.

My future and my child’s future all depended on it.

The car wound its way toward the city, and I tried to push aside the nagging
doubts starting to grow in my gut. What would I even say to him when I
saw him? Would he immediately notice that something was up with me?

Biting my lower lip, I pressed a hand to my stomach. If Aleksey had lied to

me about the pin, what else would he lie to me about? Did Luca really even
die like Aleksey claimed he did? Or did it happen as my father said—
Aleksey butchering Luca in the streets and leaving his body to rot?

When we arrived at the penthouse, Boris didn’t enter the elevator with me.

“It’s been a pleasure, princess.” He gave me a mocking bow.

“Thank you,” I muttered. He gave me a short nod before the doors closed
behind me. The elevator rumbled upward, and I prepared myself to see my
husband.

It was funny. When he’d sent me back to New York, I had begged him to let
me stay. And now that I was on my way up to see him, all I wanted was to
run far away.

But I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. I needed to find out for myself.

Straightening my shoulders, I took a deep breath and reached for the

strength that I normally reserved for meeting my father. What would I even
say to him right now? Hi, so it turns out that you were lying to me about
everything, so I need to search your desk? Somehow, I doubted he would
accept that so easily.

The doors to the elevator opened, and reality came crashing in.

“Elia.”

There was no smile on his face. His eyes were cold, and I knew something
had happened. Something had changed.

Oh God.
Forcing my feet to move, I stepped out of the elevator, laying eyes on my
husband. “Aleksey.”

I reached for him, but he turned away instead.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

He shook his head, but the coldness didn’t leave him and I felt my heart
slow in my chest.

“I’m glad you are home,” he said. But there was no warmth to his words
and no sign of happiness in the way his eyes searched me.

I took a breath. “I’m happy to be home.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and for a moment, they seemed to
harden. “And your father?”

“Still the same asshole.” I desperately wanted to break the tension in the air.
Should I ask him about the pin? Would he tell me the truth?

Would he even allow me to look?

Aleksey moved closer and my breath caught as he reached out for my face,
his eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

Crap! I thought I had covered the blooming bruise well enough, but the
makeup must have worn off from the humidity. “I—it’s nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” he answered, his voice laced with steel.
“Did he fucking hit you?”

I closed my eyes against the velvet brush of his thumb over the sore area,
letting some of his warmth seep into my cold skin.
“It doesn’t matter.” It never did. I had made the mistake of telling one of my
father’s staff about it in the past. She had vowed to get me out of the house.

Father had disappeared her, and I’d learned better than to speak up.

When Aleksey’s lips brushed the area, my eyes popped open. “He will
never hit you again,” he said against my skin. “Never.”

In these moments, I could almost forget the nervousness I had this morning,
when I had vowed to find out the truth once I got home.

This was the husband that I longed for, the one who seemed to care about
me, the one I had questioned my feelings for.

“Elia.”

We were interrupted by the shrill sound of a phone ringing and Aleksey

cursed, backing away from me. I had to gulp some air into my lungs,
attempting to pull myself together. How easy it would have been to forget
about the stupid pin and my father’s accusations!

I had to prove my father wrong. Because if he was right, I didn’t know what
I would do.

Aleksey walked over to the wall of windows. I made my way into the
kitchen and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. I could barely hear
what he was saying into the phone, but the curtness of his tone told me that
whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

I drank nearly half the bottle before he came striding toward me.

“I have to go,” he bit out. “There are issues that require my attention.”

I wanted to beg him not to go because I knew that the moment he left the
penthouse, I would be tempted by my own curiosity—my own need—to
find the pin. And if I found it, it would change everything.
But instead, all I said was, “All right.”

“Are you all right, Elia?”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Just tired. I have a small human sucking
up all my energy these days.”

Aleksey’s expression softened for just a moment. “I understand. Rest up.

I’ll be home soon. I promise.”

I felt my heart breaking at those words and forced out a laugh. “I look
forward to your return.”

Aleksey grinned. For a moment, everything was right between us. But then
his grin faded and he cleared his throat.

“I will see you later,” he said.

“Of course.” I gripped the water bottle tightly in my hand. “Be careful.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t. Instead, he

stepped into the elevator and disappeared from the penthouse. I didn’t know
how long I stood there, watching the closed doors to see if he would return.
But finally, I shook out of my thoughts, threw the water bottle in the trash,
and made my way into a place that I had almost taken to calling home.

If I was going to look for the pin, now was the time to do it.

I started in the bedroom, rifling carefully through his things and desperately
trying to ignore the way his cologne seductively assaulted my senses as I
did so. I found nothing.

Next was his office, a place I hadn’t been in since we had fucked on the
desk. It was nothing like the ornate one that my father kept, but it had a
sweeping view of the city, not that I had spent much time looking at the
view the last time I was here.
Tugging on the first drawer I opened, I pushed aside some papers and my
heart stopped.

There it was…The pin in its familiar detail. The demon face grinned at me,
as if mocking my naivety.

“Luca…”

My knees buckled and I fell into Aleksey’s chair, not wanting to believe
what I was seeing. The proof was right in front of me, but I still couldn’t
believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.

Aleksey had lied to me.

With shaking fingers, I reached into the drawer and pulled out the pin,
nearly dropping it in the process.

It was real. This was real.

“No,” I sobbed, dropping the pin on the desk. This couldn’t be real! How
could he lie to me like this? How could he lie to me about the very thing
that had threatened to rip us apart from the beginning? Aleksey knew what
my brother meant to me.

Had he really concocted a stupid fairy tale for me to let down my barriers?
Did he do all of this so that I might throw myself at him until he was the
only thing that I wanted?

Did he ever really give a shit about me?

Someone was screaming, and only when I covered my face to hide the ugly
sound bursting from my throat did I realize that it was me.

I was such a fool! Aleksey was no different from my father, no different

from his uncle. He was no different from any of those monsters!
I hated myself for the thoughts I had about him, the dreams about a future. I
hated that I had begged him for his kiss. I hated that I had allowed him to
fuck me.

I hated that I had fucked him back.

I hated that his baby was growing in my belly.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, crying into my hands, but once my tears
were spent, I calmly shut the drawer and picked up the pin from the desk.

There was only one course of action now.

I needed to confront Aleksey with proof and see what his excuse would be.

Would he lie to me again? Would he rage at me? Would he tell me that this
was some trick? My heart wrenched in my throat as I thought about every
possibility. Each one broke my heart just a little bit more than I thought was
possible.

I should never have trusted him. I should have stuck to my plan to hate him.
Because if I had hated him all along, this wouldn’t have hurt as much as it
did.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I pushed out of the chair and walked out of
the office, not bothering to put anything back from where I had disturbed it.

I didn’t give a fuck if Aleksey knew I had been snooping.

Because I had found exactly what I was looking for.

The truth.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Seven
Aleksey

“And she said nothing to you?”

Boris shook his head, stretching out his legs before him. “Nothing other
than thanking me. She saw him twice, and the first time there was a hell of
a lot of yelling. She stormed out of there. But the second time was a lot
calmer.”

I rubbed my jaw, my mood darker than ever. Ludovico had hit her. He had
put his hands on what was mine, marred her face and scared her. I saw it in
her eyes when she got home. Something had gone bad there, something that
she wasn’t telling me.

But what bothered me wasn’t just the fact that he hit her. It was something
else.

“I’m sorry, Alyosha,” Boris finished, a weary expression on his face. “If I’d
known he was going to hit her, I would’ve insisted on being there.”

“It’s not your fault,” I sighed. “You weren’t the one who forced her to go
back.” I had. And I shouldered that blame all on my own.

But now that she was back, something seemed off. Not just with her, but
with me as well. My conversation with my uncle had rattled me in ways
that I hadn’t expected. I didn’t want to think that Elia might be scheming
behind my back. It hurt to think that she was. It hurt even more to think that
Uncle Misha might be right.

The car pulled up to the penthouse and my gut clenched. Elia was inside,
and I had to face her eventually. Somehow, everything had gone to shit in
the span of just a couple of days. I’d sent her back to New York so that she
might be safe, and she had run back. But the woman who came back wasn’t
the same anymore.

I was left with more questions than answers, and that made me uneasy.
“Make sure the rest of the brigadiers make their rounds,” I told Boris. “I
don’t want any more trouble or unexpected problems. Otherwise,
someone’s ass is going to be mine.”

“Of course, Aleksey Fyodorovich.” He shifted against the seat. “I’ll see that
it is done.”

I nodded. The reason I had left Elia as soon as she returned was because
some up-and-coming idiot had thought it would be a good idea to sell drugs
in my territory without paying his dues. While entrepreneurs were expected,
and, to an extent, tolerated, thieves were not. So, I had spent the better part
of what should have been a happy reunion with my wife parceling out street
sentencing.

Terms were set, rules were clarified, and I had extracted my pound of flesh
for good measure.

Now, the dealer knew whose toes he’d stepped on. And if he ever forgot, he
only had to look at his missing finger to remind him.

“Make certain they know that I will hold them personally accountable for
any other infractions that make it to my ears.” I reached for the door handle.
“I expect transparency from the rest of them. None of this cloak and dagger
shit about the Bogatyr that my uncle mentioned.”

“Sounds fishy,” Boris agreed. “I mean, that’s an awfully convenient excuse

to drop on you. I’ve never heard of the Bogatyr, and none of the guys I
spoke to seemed to know about him either. Man’s a ghost.”

“Or completely made up.” I nodded.

“Exactly.”

I had told Boris about the full conversation with my uncle, both the one at
my father’s grave and at the penthouse after Elia left. He had done some
questioning on his own initiative and had come back with nothing but dead
ends.

Looking over at him, I caught his eye. “What about Elia?”

Boris rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. At this point, I
trust everyone about as far as I can throw them. And I recommend you do
the same. Something changed with her after talking with her father. I could
see it. You can see it, too. Be careful, Alyosha.”

“I will,” I said as I climbed out of the car.

Once I stepped inside the elevator and headed upstairs, I felt the oppressive
weight on my chest at what I was about to walk into.

When the elevator doors opened to the penthouse, I found it dark and still.
Frowning, I walked in. The place was deathly quiet, and a small hint of fear
slid down my spine.

“Elia?” I asked, pulling my gun from the shoulder holster. “Are you here?”

Keeping my gun down at my side, I crept slowly toward the hallway and
finally saw light filtering out of the seam at the bottom of the slightly
opened door.

“Elia?” I called out again.

A shadow filled the doorway and she stepped out. I breathed an inward sigh
of relief, holstering my gun. “Did you hear me the first time?”

“I was in the bathroom,” she said quietly, her voice taking on an odd tone.
“Did you take care of your business?”

I nodded, leaning against the wall but not approaching her. “Everything is
taken care of.”
She looked almost sickly. Her skin had an ashen appearance. Her eyes were
puffy and red-rimmed. Even her hair, usually combed and neat, looked
unkempt and wild. Was she just tired from the trip? Or was the pregnancy
starting to drain the energy out of her?

Or did something else happen? Something with her father that would lend
credibility to my uncle’s claims? I hated this second guessing, this need to
worry about what was going on under my own roof.

Who could I really trust?

My wife? My uncle? No one?

“Have you eaten?” I forced out instead, attempting to ease into the
inevitable and uncomfortable conversation that was about to happen. I
didn’t want to argue with her, but I needed to know where we stood.

Elia shook her head. “I can’t.”

There was that odd tone again. “Why is that?” I asked slowly. “Talk to me,
Elia.”

Her head snapped up, and I saw the anger vibrating in her gaze. “You want
me to talk to you? Truly? Fine. Let’s start with you telling me the truths
from the lies. How about that?” She hurled something in my direction.

I snatched it out of the air and felt metal bite into the palm of my hand.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Why don’t you look?” Acid dripped from her lips.

I opened my palm and looked down. Coldness washed over me when I saw
the demon face grinning at me. How…

I had seen this before. I had held this in my hand, clenched it in my fist.
“Where did you find this?”

“Oh!” She let out a harsh laugh. “Fuck you, Aleksey! You know good and
well where I got this from!”

It was my turn to shake my head, wrapping my hand around the pin. The
last time I had seen this pin, it was in the hand of Ludovico Tarallo. I
remembered pressing it into his palm and walking away. I remembered the
way he slumped into his chair. If he had given this to Elia, why was she
mad at me? This made no sense.

“Did your father give this to you?”

“You wish he did!” Elia started toward me before she stopped, her fists
clenched at her sides. “I found this in your desk drawer. You lied to me!”

What? “I didn’t lie to you!” I replied evenly, fighting to keep my own

indignant anger at bay. “I gave that to your father the day after your brother
died. I personally put it in his hands.” There was no fucking way that pin
had gotten into this penthouse by itself…

Which meant someone had indeed been here.

“Stop it! Stop lying to me!” she cried out, emotion lacing every word. “Just
tell me the truth!”

I couldn’t hold back my anger anymore. “I’m telling you the truth!” I
roared. “Why were you in my shit anyway, Elia? Did your father tell you to
go snooping around? Was this part of the plan?”

Her eyes widened. “How dare you!”

“How dare I?” She was the one who had called me a liar. She was the one
who had come back a different person. What did Ludovico tell her? “I sent
you home to be safe, and you returned a different woman. You go snooping
through my things without my permission, and now you accuse me of being
a liar when I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”
“Fuck you!” She turned around.

I snatched her arm and spun her back to face me. “Don’t you fucking walk
away from me!”

She tried to wrench her arm from my grip. “Let me go!”

“You’re hiding something,” I said darkly. “Aren’t you?”

Elia stared at me for a moment, her expression slowly morphing from

surprise to realization.

“You think I’m working for my father,” she said, not even bothering to hide
the disdain in her voice.

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at her. “Aren’t you?” I bit out. “It
would explain this entire change. What else am I supposed to think?”

Her mouth opened and then closed. “You fucking piece of shit,” she
growled. “You knew how much that pin meant to me! You knew that it was
the one thing that my brother…” Her voice caught, and my chest tightened
uncomfortably when the tears glimmered in her eyes. “And you made up a
fucking story about it. All for what? So that you could fuck me without a
guilty conscience?”

“I told you the truth!” I fought to keep the anger out of my voice. “I gave
the pin to your father. I don’t know how it got here. But it sure as hell
wasn’t because of what you think, Elia. I didn’t lie to you.”

Suddenly the bruise on her face took on a more sinister meaning. What if it
was punishment by her father? What if it was because she’d returned to her
father with the job half done: a baby in her belly, but not a drop of my blood
on her hands?

“Just say it, Aleksey! Say that you didn’t send it!”
“I did send it!” I shouted, feeling my ire rise once more. “I have never
fucking lied to you, Elia!” Someone had planted this in my office, and I
wanted to know who and why it had happened.

The Bogatyr is still out there, Uncle Misha’s voice whispered at the back of
my head. He’s still working for Ludovico. He killed your father. And
unfortunately for us all, you did the one thing Ludovico wanted you to do.
You gave him exactly what he needed.

And then another realization dawned on me.

What if the Bogatyr wasn’t a man…

I stared at Elia, my heart hammering against my chest. Could she be the

Bogatyr? It would all match up, wouldn’t it? What did I truly know of Elia
Tarallo? If the Bogatyr had emerged around the same time that I went to
New York, then how could I be certain that it was not Elia?

She’d mentioned how she and her brother would pretend that they were
their own dons, to plan and strategize since they were children.

She was the one who had told me to lie to Uncle Misha. What if this was all
just her elaborate plan?

“Who are you, Elia?” I whispered. “Who are you really?”

“I could ask the same of you.” Her expression changed. “You are trying to
distract me,” she accused. “Trying to blame this on someone else, aren’t
you?”

Finally, she wrenched her hand free of mine, hurried back into the bedroom,
and slammed the door shut behind her. I heard the click as the door locked.

I tucked the pin into my coat pocket and strode to the door, pounding my
fist against it. “Let me in!” I shouted. “This isn’t over, Elia!”
I might have killed her brother, but if Elia Tarallo was the Bogatyr that my
uncle had warned me about, then she had killed my father. A viper in my
bed, indeed.

I pounded on the door again. “Don’t make me break this door down!” I
wasn’t beyond doing so.

“Leave me alone!”

She was crying behind the door. I could hear it in her voice. As much as I
wanted to hate her in that moment, I couldn’t. I found myself torn between
the need to comfort her and the need to shake her until she believed that I
was telling her the truth.

Placing my forehead against the door, I drew in a breath. I was at a

crossroads here. “Elia, please,” I said. “Let me in. We need to talk.”

“No!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I told her, pulling away from the door and
positioning myself against the wall across from it. “Eventually, you’re
going to have to come out.”

And I was willing to wait as long as it took.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Eight
Elia

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, glaring at the door. Aleksey had gone
silent on the other side, but I knew he was still out there. He wasn’t a man
to give up so easily, and if he could figure out another way into this room, I
knew he would, and he knew it too.

My head hurt. My heart hurt. I wanted to believe that he was telling me the
truth, that somebody had planted the pin in his office. But I just couldn’t
believe it. Father had been telling me the truth the entire time. There was no
time for someone to have gone from New York to Chicago in the short time
that I was there.

“Elia.”

Aleksey’s voice was muffled, but I could still hear the weariness in his
voice. He’d accused me of awful things, of hiding things from him. As if I
was cooperating with my father and doing his bidding. Did he think that I
wanted this marriage?

I had been honest with Aleksey about how I was nothing more than an
unwilling participant forced into this, the same as him. How could he really
think that I was hiding anything from him?

“Elia, I’m sorry.”

I paused. Did I hear that correctly? Did Aleksey just apologize to me? I
didn’t think he was capable of that at all. I doubted that he’d ever
apologized to anyone before. My heart softened, not enough to open the
door, but just enough for me to be more willing to listen. There was hurt in
his eyes when I threw the pin and my accusations at him. Maybe…just
maybe…he hated this fighting as much as I did.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” he continued, sounding as if he was right

against the door. “I jumped to conclusions. Please, just open the door and
let’s talk about this.”
I stood, wrapping my arms around my waist, and eyed the door. Could I?
Could I trust that we would be able to talk—and just talk? Not scream and
accuse each other of awful things?

Aleksey wasn’t stupid, nor was he someone who was careless. If he hadn’t
given back the pin, the last place he would have kept it would be in a
random desk drawer.

Either I had to accept that he might be telling the truth, or I could continue
to believe that he was lying to me.

But no matter the end result, none of it would change the fact that I was still
married to him or that I was carrying his child.

Blowing out a breath, I crossed the room and opened the door, finding
Aleksey on the other side, his arm braced against the doorway.

“You don’t have a weapon in your hand,” he said. “I take it that you don’t
want to kill me?”

“Not yet,” I muttered, and sat down on the far corner of the bed.

Aleksey entered the room cautiously, as if I was about to spring a trap on

him. “Thank you for opening the door.”

“You said you wanted to talk.” I grabbed a pillow so I had something to

hold onto. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

He crossed the room and sat on the opposite corner of the bed, his hands
dangling between his legs. “I lost my temper earlier, and it was uncalled for.
I apologize.”

“Apology accepted. But that’s not what we’re talking about, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“The pin,” I told him gently. “I found it here. My father said that he never
received it.”

Aleksey closed his eyes and a soft scoff escaped his lips. “Of course he
would say that. I may have no proof of the day, but I swear to you that I
placed it in his hands personally. He threatened to kill me when I left and
warned me to never set foot on his property again. But in that moment, he
looked defeated, slumped in that chair. It was the first time that I saw him
for what he was: a father who had lost his son.”

The way he described my father matched up with how I had seen him
before I left. Tired, old, and defeated. And the threat that Aleksey had
heard…

It did sound like something my father would say.

Ignoring the tug on my gut, I rubbed my hands together. I was tired. “I don’t
know what to do here, Aleksey.”

“Neither do I,” he said after a moment. “I don’t like this between us. I don’t
like the secrets.”

Secrets? What secrets could I hide from him? He knew everything about
me. He saw everything I had to offer. We had so much more going on right
now, and the last thing we needed to do was fight.

“I have no more secrets from you, Aleksey; you know that.”

He looked at me, and something shimmered in his eyes. Suspicion?

Contrition? Whatever it was, it disappeared so quickly that it might never
have existed at all.

“Are you the Bogatyr?”

I scrunched my face in confusion. Boga-what? “I don’t know what you’re

talking about.”
Aleksey didn’t answer me and looked away, staring at the wall as if it held
the answers to the universe. After a while, he turned his gaze back.

“Who do you trust?” he asked. “The monster who sold you to me, knowing
I killed your brother? Or the monster who would never lie to you?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can trust either of them,” I admitted.

“Both are equally bad.”

“You’re right,” he sighed. “But know this, Elia. I would never hurt you..”

“You hurt me the day of our wedding,” I blurted out, remembering the
shame of that day. Not only had he come after me, but he had forced me to
suck him on the side of the road, watched me change into my dress, and
forced me to march to the wedding altar with his cum on my face. He had
humiliated me. And never once had he expressed even a hint of remorse.

“I hated you that day,” I said.

“I know,” he answered curtly.

“I still hate you occasionally.”

“I know,” Aleksey repeated. His hand reached out gingerly to brush the hair
away from my face. “Believe me. I tried to hate you too. I wanted to hate
you from the moment I found out I was marrying you, Elia.”

I couldn’t fault him for that. I had felt the same way.

“But then I saw you in New York,” he continued, dropping his hand. “The
night before our engagement party. You were impossible for me to look
away from. And each moment after that…you made me feel. You woke
something in me that I thought was dead. And somewhere along the way, I
realized that I couldn’t hate you, no matter how hard I tried.”

Tried as I might to hold it back, a smile hooked on my lips. He had

intrigued me that night. The way he took me in his arms and slowly leaned
in toward me. The panic that had seized my throat when I thought he would
kiss me. I was intrigued about him. He was supposed to be my enemy, yet
he set my heart on fire.

“You were irresistible for me,” Aleksey said. “You made me want to know
more about you. You are nothing like your father, Elia. No matter what
passes between us, no matter how much we hurt each other, I could never
bring myself to hate you.” He drew in a breath. “All I’m asking is that you
trust me. That you believe me.”

His words tore at my heart. “I want to believe you,” I answered after a few
moments. “Because the last thing I want to believe is that you are lying to
me about the pin. About everything.”

It was the truth. I wanted to believe that he had the best of intentions in
everything he did, that I didn’t have to worry about him scheming or trying
to manipulate me, but the seed of doubt had been planted. And its sprouts
were already poking out of the dirt.

The pin, that stupid pin, was a wedge driving us apart. No matter what he
said or did.

“Who is the Bogat…” I started. I couldn’t even say that word.

“The Bogatyr?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed. “I don’t know. An enemy, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” I asked, incredulous. “Who told you about him?”

“My uncle.”

“And you trusted him?” I felt my heart cracking at the admission. “You
were the one who told me you couldn’t trust your uncle. But in the span of a
couple of days, you took his word over mine?”
“I don’t know who to trust anymore.” Aleksey stood up. “So why don’t you
tell me about your visit with your father?”

I watched him remove his coat, then the weapons that he had tucked on his
person, placing them carefully on the bedside table for easy reach. It was a
ritual I had watched him do a few times since we were married.

But tonight, the familiar motions felt different. Tonight, they felt like a
threat.

“Come here.” Aleksey settled himself against the pillows and patted the
space next to him. “You look exhausted.”

Cautiously, I crawled into bed and he pulled back the covers so I could slip
under. His arm encircled my shoulders, and I found myself involuntarily
drifting to his chest to rest my cheek there.

“We argued,” I started. “He told me some things that I didn’t want to
believe.” Now I wasn’t so sure as to who to believe, and something told me
that Aleksey was struggling as well. “When did your uncle tell you about
the Bogatyr?”

“As soon as you left,” he breathed, stroking my hair.

Suddenly, things started to make sense. “They are trying to tear us apart,” I
said, lifting my head to look at him.

There was surprise that flared in his eyes before they narrowed. “Perhaps,”
he said.

I chewed on my lower lip. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but at least
the two of us were talking and not yelling at each other. It was an
improvement, but not much of one.

Someone wanted us to be apart, to be at odds with each other. And this

Bogatyr…this Bogatyr must be behind it all. But if Aleksey didn’t know
much about him, then there was no point in me asking.

“Tell me what else your father said,” Aleksey said.

“He knows I’m pregnant, obviously,” I rushed on. “He guessed it quickly.
He thinks that it’s a blessing.”

“Of course he would,” Aleksey muttered.

“He wanted me to believe that he never received the pin.” I continued. “He
let me search his desk. He never let me anywhere near that desk when I was
a little girl.”

I still wasn’t 100 percent sure that Aleksey was telling me the truth, but I
was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I had to let him see my
own logic here. Otherwise, we would tear ourselves apart.

“I don’t know what I can do to prove to you that I’m telling the truth,” he
said. His voice was heavy. “All I have is my word.”

His word. All we had between ourselves were words.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Aleksey inclined his head. “Always.”

I twisted my hands in the comforter. “Did you miss me?”

He planted a soft kiss on my temple. “Every second that you were away. I
never thought I could miss anyone as much as I missed you.”

Reaching up, I pressed my finger to his lips. “I want to believe you,” I

admitted. “Truly, I do.”

Aleksey pressed his lips against my finger. “Then tell me what it will take,”
he said. “Tell me what I need to do, Elia. And I will do it.”
My breath caught. He was willing to do anything? Removing my finger, I
decided to throw caution to the wind.

“Kiss me,” I answered. “Kiss me and show me that you are serious. That
you would never lie to me. That you will always be truthful.”

A light smile crossed his face and my heart skipped a beat. His hand came
up to caress my uninjured cheek, his thumb brushing over the tracks of tears
that had left lines on my skin earlier. Gingerly, he pulled me close and I
reciprocated.

His soft, warm breath hovered over my lips momentarily. My eyes fluttered
closed. His lips moved from my temple to my eyelids, pressing soft kisses
there. When he kissed the tip of my nose, my heart shook in response.

His lips moved to my jawline, everywhere but the one place I wanted him
to kiss.

He traced the column of my neck and I bit back a moan, opening my eyes
so that I could find a place to put my hands on his body. But still, I longed
for the kiss. For the proof.

As if he could read my mind, his lips finally settled over mine and I gasped
into his mouth, eager to devour him as much as he wanted to devour me.
My hand slipped into his hair and I pulled him closer, whimpering as he
nibbled on my lower lip. His kiss was gentle, far gentler than any other kiss
we shared.

This wasn’t a bruising kiss of lust, but one that assured me of who he was.
He pressed his mouth to the corners of mine, sighing as he deepened the
kiss.

His hand moved back up to my cheek and he pulled away, staring into my
eyes. “I’m going to show you how serious I am,” he stated softly, brushing
his thumb over my reddened lips. “I’m going to show you until you admit
that I will never lie to you. That I will always be truthful with you.”
“Then do it,” I breathed, my voice shaking with need.

Aleksey’s smile sent shivers through my body, and suddenly I couldn’t get
close enough to him. He pressed his lips to mine again, and the kiss turned
possessive. His tongue slipped into my open mouth as he tangled himself
with me. Somehow, I ended up underneath him, his mouth never leaving
mine, and the familiar feeling sang in my veins.

I wanted Aleksey. I didn’t care about my father, about his uncle, the
Bogatyr, or that stupid pin right now.

I wanted to feel him. I wanted to forget everything else, for us to be in our

little cocoon for a while.

The world could wait.

So, I kissed Aleksey back, letting the pent-up emotion come through with
each stroke of my tongue. This was where we belonged. Just the two of us,
two people who couldn’t get enough of each other.

This was where the dream remained, and for a little while at least, I could
live in that dream.

Aleksey kissed me thoroughly and completely, until I had to pull back to

draw in a shaky breath.

“Do you believe me now?” he whispered as I struggled to gulp in air. “Tell

me, Elia.”

I stared into his eyes, a thousand reasons why I should climb out of this bed
floating about in my head. My heart tugged at how he waited patiently for
me to answer, as if I held everything in the palm of my hand.

There was no reason for me to say the words. All he had to do was look in
my eyes and know that I believed him. Now and forever.
I felt like I would do anything for him, and that terrified me more than
anything I had ever faced.

What if I lost myself in him, only to learn that he’d been lying this entire
time?

What if there was more to his story? More to this arrangement than he was
letting on?

It was that worry nibbling at the back of my mind that made me hold my
silence. I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. I was still so confused
about what I had learned today. I couldn’t think anymore. I didn’t want to
think anymore. All I wanted was for him to keep kissing me, to kiss me so
hard that I might just forget it all.

A shadow passed over his eyes briefly before he dipped his head back to
me. His hands felt warm against my skin as our lips touched. Slowly he
reignited the fire inside me, the very one that he’d had absolute control over
since our paths crossed. And as much as I wanted to deny it, Aleksey could
get me to do whatever he wished in the sanctity of our bedroom.

That should be all that mattered between us. We shouldn’t allow others to
dictate the terms of our marriage. Yet we lived in a world where dictating
was the one thing that others around us did best.

And as he deepened the kiss, hands slowly moving down my body, I didn’t
know if either of us could survive this.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Nine
Aleksey

I kissed Elia softly, roaming my lips over hers with an aching tenderness
that I didn’t know I had in me. Her hands threaded through my hair, and I
teased her lips until she opened them to give me better access, sliding my
tongue inside the inviting recesses of her mouth. Kissing Elia was better
than any drug.

Elia made a sound deep in her throat when my hands gripped her hips,
lowering my body against hers so she could feel what she did to me. It was
always like this around her, that need to own and possess her. I knew she
wanted this as much as I did.

And I felt the pull in the moment. I wanted her to tell me that I was the one
in control. I wanted to be the one she gasped for, the one she looked at and
chose every single time.

When I told her that I could never bring myself to hate her, I was telling the
truth. I tried. God knows I tried. But each time, she found a way to push
through that. From the moment I nearly kissed her after those two thugs
tried to have their way with her to this moment now.

Maybe Elia was always supposed to be right here, underneath me, without
the interference of our families. Maybe we would always have come
together like this.

She broke the kiss, panting.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” I pressed my lips to her forehead

before I rolled off her and to the other side of the bed. “Take them off.”

Elia, panting, didn’t move. “Do you think you can boss me around right
now?”

I let out a low growl, staying in my spot. “If you want me to ease that wet
ache between your legs, Elia, you will do as I say.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath before I felt her rise from the bed. My
heart was hammering in my ears, every fiber in my being wanting to take
her against the wall, anywhere to soothe my own ache deep inside.

I didn’t think I could want her any more than I did right now.

“What do I get…” Her delicate fingers toyed with the strap of her tank top.
“If I take my clothes off?”

Relieved to hear the coyness in her voice, I reached down and gripped
myself. “This. You get this.”

Her cheeks flushed as her eyes followed my hand and when her tongue
darted out to wet her lower lip, I groaned inwardly.

“That’s an offer almost worth considering.”

“You have no idea.” If she didn’t start to take off her damn clothes now, I
was going to rip them off.

Finally, Elia’s hand drifted down to the hem of her tank top and she pulled
it off to reveal her breasts, heavier from pregnancy. In the dim light, I
marveled at the pink areolas, the nipples stiff from the cool air, and felt my
mouth water at the sight.

Elia teased me with the waistband of her shorts, finally pushing them down
over her ass and showing off the small slip of lace that covered her pussy
before kicking them away. “Is this what you want to see?” she asked, her
voice sultry.

I nodded. “Yes.” I wanted her hands on me, touching me, reminding me that
she wanted me.

She approached the bed and I moved in time with her, untucking my dress
shirt from my pants as I stood. I longed to touch her, but I didn’t.
Because if I did, this teasing would be over before it truly started.

Her fingers worked on the buttons of my shirt and before I realized it, she
was pushing the material off my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor.
Her breath hung hot over my skin, sending shivers down my spine. When
she reached for my belt, I stopped her, my jaw clenching.

“No,” I said tightly, the blood rushing to my lower half. “Touch me first.”

Elia looked up and I was lost to her eyes. For a moment, I thought she
might turn away or refuse to comply with my demands. But the moment
passed, and her pink-tipped fingers drifted over my skin. Her nails scraped
lightly over my shoulders in tiny circles before making their way down my
arms. Each touch was like a lick of fire that grew hotter by the second,
threatening to consume me, and making it far too easy to forget all the
unresolved questions between us.

When she reached my chest, she splayed her hand over my heart and I drew
in a sharp breath when I saw the wedding ring on her finger in the low light
of the room.

“You are mine,” I growled, reaching down to grasp her hand. “Forever.” I
owned her. She carried my name and my child.

My mark was all over Elia Korolev.

Instead of agreeing, she pried my grip from her hand. “We will see about
that,” she said quietly, before reaching out to kiss my pec. “Do you want me
to be owned by you?”

I threaded my hand in her hair and tugged gently until she was looking up at
me. “You know I do.” But I wanted to hear it out of her mouth. I needed to
hear it out of her mouth.

Elia’s lips pursed as if in thought, but she remained silent, her hand resting
on my belt buckle. Fine. We would continue the tug and pull of her words,
but both of us knew how this was going to end.
Finally, her fingers resumed their motions and made quick work of my
pants, shoving them over my hips to release my length before her. A pearly
drop of precum decorated the tip. Even in this dim light, I could see her
eyes widen in anticipation of what was coming.

“Get on the bed,” I told her, fighting the urge to bury myself inside her.
“And spread your legs.”

Elia did as I asked. Her body was quivering in excitement. She enjoyed this
as much as I did.

I watched as she lay on her back, splayed her legs apart, and pulled her
knees up to give me a good view of her wet center.

“Tell me you want me to touch you.” I slid my hand up to her knee, drawing
a soft moan from her lips. The scent of her arousal filled the air. Leaning
down, I pressed my lips on the inside of her milky thigh, but no further. She
closed her eyes and breathed, moaning.

I waited for her words, my fingers kneading her soft skin insistently. “Tell
me, Elia.”

Her eyes fluttered open, need shimmering in them. “Aleksey, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Good girl,” I murmured, my hand finally moving past the soft expanse of
her thigh to cup her wet mound. She gasped and arched into my touch, but I
held myself back. “Beg me.”

“Oh God,” she breathed, panting lightly.

I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Beg me,” I repeated.

“Touch me,” she begged, her hand pushing at my shoulder. “Touch me,
please.”

I dipped a single finger slowly inside her. She was drenched.

“Like this?”

“Yes!” she gasped. “Just like that.”

I loved it when she lost herself to her own pleasure like this—like she
couldn’t live without me. I positioned myself between her legs and knelt
down. Her legs parted further and her intoxicating scent tumbled forth,
beckoning me to lap up every drop of her nectar. I kissed my way down the
length of her thigh while my hand cupped her ass, squeezing as I gripped
the full cheeks.

Her breath quickened above me. Then, in a single fluid motion, I pulled her
to me and pressed my tongue against her wet, throbbing slit. She couldn’t
hold back her moan anymore and her fingers laced in my hair.

“Yes!” she panted, urging me on. “Just like that!”

I growled deep in my throat and swirled my tongue against her sensitive

nub before slipping it past her delicate folds. She rode my face like I might
pull away at any moment. My hands moved up to cup her breasts, and I
squeezed them possessively as her thighs clenched around my head.

The first shudder came quickly, far quicker than I had expected. The second
one followed soon after. By the time the third came, a loud wail burst forth
from her beautiful throat. She arched up off the bed before she collapsed
back, panting harshly as I kissed along her thigh

“Good girl,” I murmured as I straightened, looking down at the beautiful

mess I had created.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her body flushed with pink, and she looked
thoroughly fucked even though I hadn’t even begun. I pushed her knees
apart, taking my cock in my hand to tease at the wet, inviting entrance.

“Tell me that you are mine,” I growled.

Elia’s eyes opened and she looked at me. “No.”

That single word splashed me like a bucket of ice. I knew why she couldn’t
say it. She didn’t trust me and I didn’t trust her. What a fucked-up marriage
we were in.

“Tell me, Elia.”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, fanning her hair out on
the comforter like an ink blot.

“I won’t give you what you want,” I told her as I stroked my cock lightly,
my body taut with need. “Until you tell me you are mine.”

She stared back at me, but from where I was, it looked more like a glare.

I couldn’t step away from her, not with her like this. There was nothing else
between us except this. I could almost believe that we were going to be
together regardless of what others thought.

“Then tell me you want me,” I said instead.

Her eyes glazed over with heated intensity. “I do. I want you more than
anything else.”

That was enough for me right now. I pulled her hips to the edge of the bed
and teased her open with my cock.

“One day,” I told her, my own chest heaving as I pressed myself slowly into
her, enough so that she could feel every painstaking inch as she squirmed
underneath. “You will tell me that you are mine.”
She tried to reach for me, but I took her arms and pinned them above her
head against the bed as I sheathed the head of my cock inside her. Her hips
rose up to meet me, urging me to move, but I remained still.

“Tell me there will come a day,” I said.

“One day.” Her lips parted and she arched her hips upward, seating me even
deeper. “But not today.”

I took her mouth as I buried myself to the hilt inside her, feeling her
convulse around my cock. She returned my thrust with an aggressive thrust
of her own. When I tried to pull away from the kiss, her teeth grazed my
tongue, urging me to stay.

I continued to hold her wrists so that she couldn’t touch me. We were
fighting for control. I could feel it. Both of us were focused on making sure
the other suffered in the most pleasurable way possible. My free hand
roamed everywhere, tweaking her nipples and cupping her breasts as I
pounded into her. She squeezed her wet walls around me in rhythm to every
thrust as a familiar tension drew back between us.

Slowly, I felt her motions grow more erratic. Her breath quickened, and her
face reddened in the attempt. Her attempt to control me was slipping, and I
was on the verge of winning this.

“Aleksey!” she gasped as a delicious tremor hugged my cock, and the

warmth of her release coated my length.

“That’s it,” I said, continuing my thrusts. “Come for me, Elia. Come for
your husband.”

She cried out, fighting my hold on her wrists, but I held her in place,
picking up my thrusts. I was teetering on the edge myself, but I wanted to
see Elia wrung out before me. I wanted her to fall apart under my touch, my
body. I wanted her to be a helpless mess of pleasure.

To remember this and forget everything else.

She whimpered and gasped, and I felt my control finally slipping. My
stomach clenched, beads of sweat breaking out on my forehead at the pain
of holding myself back.

“You belong to me,” I gasped, my strokes becoming uneven. “Look at me!”

Elia’s eyes found mine and I picked up the pace, our bodies slapping
together in rhythm. Sweat rolled down my back, and I was forced to let go
of her wrists to get better leverage on the bed. Her hands reached out and
ran along the broad expanse of my back. Her head dipped forward, and her
lips closed around the sensitive spot of my collarbone.

A single tiny bite, and I lost all measure of control. Her name poured from
my lips as I poured into her.

Slowly, I started to feel my body come back to me, my legs shaking from
the force of my own orgasm.

Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me.

Why? Why did that memory have to surface now? I wasn’t going down that
fucking path with Elia splayed out before me, her body heaving from what
we just did.

Looking back at the bed, I found Elia looking at me. Finally, she slowly
rolled over and got up.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

I watched her sashay into the bathroom, letting out a slow breath.
Everything was so fucked up that I didn’t know what to say to her now or
where our marriage was going.

So many things still needed to be discussed between us.

So many questions still remained unanswered.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Forty
Elia

I looked at myself in the mirror, taking in the flush on my face. My entire

body was sated, and I felt like I could barely function. The need to sleep
was overwhelming.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

He had asked me to admit that he owned me, that I was his, yet there were
still so many unanswered questions between us that it was tearing me apart.

Did I really care? I shouldn’t.

And yet…

Warmth flared through me at the thought of what we had just done, wanting
desperately to feel it again. Maybe that was the best part of us, what we did
in the bedroom. So many marriages were built on less.

But a true marriage shouldn’t be built on only that. But this was never a true
marriage.

With a sigh, I washed my face and walked back into the bedroom, finding
Aleksey sitting on the bed. He looked up as I entered and my cheeks
flushed, realizing I had no clothing on. Aleksey’s eyes roamed down my
body, and I felt every searing look on my skin, wanting his hands to be
there instead.

“Elia,” he said, his voice low and sensual.

I walked toward him deliberately, my heart hammering in my chest.

Already my stomach was tightening with need, my breasts heavy and tight
for his touch.

“What are you doing to me?” he said softly as I stood between his bare legs,
noting that his cock was starting to stir where it had been flaccid against his
leg a moment before.

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I forced him back on the comforter. “I

want more, Aleksey.”

His eyes widened, but he allowed me to climb on him, positioning myself

over his cock. “I love you like this,” he said softly, his hands coming up to
cup my aching breasts.

Love. That word seemed foreign coming out of his mouth with everything
going on. Did I love Aleksey? Maybe at one point I might have considered
it. Maybe during one of our countless bouts, I might have even uttered it. I
wasn’t sure anymore. Everything I had felt before my trip to my father
could have fooled me into thinking that it was love.

But now? Now I wasn’t sure.

When his thumbs brushed over my hardened peaks, I gasped, my body

starting to shake with the need to have him inside me. His cock had come
back to life, and it pressed—hot and insistent—against my ass.

“Go on,” he said, his hands molding my breasts. “Take it, Elia. Take all of
it.”

Obediently, I lowered myself onto his cock and groaned as he filled me

completely, stretching the aching spots from earlier. It wasn’t pain I was
feeling. It was desire.

“That’s it,” he urged, surging his hips up to fill me the rest of the way. “Ride
me. Use me. Take what you want.”

Oh, I wanted him. I wanted all of Aleksey in more ways than one, but it
wasn’t the time or the place to discuss that particular want.

With a moan, I started to rock against him, feeling his callused hands on my
skin, teasing me in other ways that had my body on fire. A string of Russian
tumbled from his throat, adding to the wetness growing between us. I
rocked harder, trying to find that spot deep inside me to satisfy the ache that
wasn’t going away.

I felt powerful on top of him, like I could make him do whatever I wanted.
Aleksey’s hands slid down to grip my hips and I slapped them away. This
was my turn. Not his.

He chuckled, and I felt the sound rumble through my body. I placed his
hands on my thighs and pressed down with all my might to keep them there
while my hips rode him with reckless abandon.

He tried to take control, tried to lift my hips, tried to do whatever it took,

but I refused. My mouth found his as my wetness enveloped him. Our
tongues collided as our motions grew more frantic. I rode him hard, my
body shaking until I felt Aleksey’s semen flooding me. But even then, I
refused to stop, not until I got what I wanted.

Aleksey’s breaths grew ragged, and he could no longer fight back his
moans.

“Elia…” he gasped. “Elia, please.”

My hand covered his mouth while my legs wrapped around his back. He
could try to push me off, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Mercilessly, I kept
riding him, my body humming with pleasure and power. Helpless, he clung
to me and buried his face in the crook between my neck and my shoulder.
His tongue lashed my skin, but all it did was urge me on.

I wanted him to feel what it was like. To lose control. To break under me.

And then I felt it. The deep-seated release I was looking for. My fingers dug
into his back as a long shriek of pleasure punched out of my throat. I held
onto him for dear life as my body shook around his pulsing rod. Wave after
wave of hot, wet heat flooded the space between us as my eyes rolled into
the back of my head, dragging me under the surf of pleasure until it felt like
I was drowning.
The two of us clung to each other, panting, and I felt his cock slowly soften
inside of me.

Despite everything, we could still enjoy each other like this, without the
interference of anyone else in our lives. I knew the moment was fleeting,
but right now, I didn’t care.

I just wanted to forget everything else.

In this moment, I could forget who I was and who he thought I was. I could
forget that he might be lying to me about the pin, about everything.

But this wasn’t going to be forever. Reality would inevitably come crashing
down at any moment. As I pulled away from his sweaty chest, I realized
that reality was already back in play.

Aleksey watched me as I peeled myself off him, making another trip to the
bathroom to quickly catch my breath before exiting. When I returned, he
was seated back on the bed, a pair of pants already pulled on. I picked up
his T-shirt that was sitting on the chair and pulled it on, letting it fall to mid-
thigh.

An unspoken awkwardness rose up between us. And it felt like neither of us

knew where to go from here. The thought of that broke my heart. If only he
hadn’t asked me to go back to New York.

If only we hadn’t ripped open this wound that both of us had deceived
ourselves into believing had healed.

I walked over to him and he immediately made room for me. His forehead
pressed into my stomach. It was oddly vulnerable for him to show me this
side of him and tears threatened my eyes, my hands stroking his head.

“I hate this,” I whispered, threading my fingers through his hair. “I hate the
legacy we’re forced to uphold. For you. For me. For us.”
I felt Aleksey stiffen, but I didn’t apologize for my words. It was the truth.
We were forced to pay back the sins of our fathers—our families. Neither of
us would ever have a normal life, regardless of it.

It didn’t bother me that Aleksey wanted me to bend to him. Despite

everything, I still trusted that he wouldn’t hurt me, that he truly did want me
to be safe. If not in his arms, then in spite of being trapped by his arms.

“Me too,” he admitted quietly.

Aleksey’s words startled me out of my thoughts, and I looked down in time

to catch him as he lifted his head, naked emotion in his eyes.

“Maybe this doesn’t have to be this way,” I said. A terrifying and

tantalizing thought entered my head. The same one that I had nursed since I
was just a little girl. The same one that I thought about each time I endured
my father’s wrath. The same thought I had when I screamed and tore at my
hair when I learned of Luca’s death.

“Let’s run away together, Alyosha,” I said, cradling his face between my
hands. “Just you and me.”

Something shifted in Aleksey’s eyes. “What did you say?”

“Let’s run away together,” I continued, my breath catching in my lungs.

“Leave all of this behind. Our child could grow up free of this life. I can
call Lana. She can arrange something—anything. We could live a normal
life.”

“Elia.”

Tears clouded my eyes as I opened my deepest desire to him. I had spent

my entire life imagining that my family could be different. Where other
girls dreamed of being born into wealth and privilege, I wanted the
opposite.
I wanted a normal life with a normal family. A house in the suburbs,
sighing over phone bills. That was my dream. “Please, Aleksey. It’s a
simple life, but it’s one we could fill with love. We could be happy,” I
pleaded. Tears filled my eyes and before I could blink them away, one
escaped onto my cheek. “Please. Let’s run away together. You and me.”

Something akin to sadness crossed his face before a storm of rage replaced
it. Brusquely, he set me aside and rose from the bed.

His movements were stiff. I tried to reach for his hand, but he ripped it
away. And when our eyes met, I shrank back from what I saw. Hatred.
Loathing. Implacable rage.

Aleksey shoved his feet into a pair of loafers and walked to the door of the
bedroom.

“Never,” he spat. His voice was harsh, so harsh that I felt it slashing my
heart.

“Why?” I tried again, not wanting us to find ourselves at odds like we had
been earlier. “Why not? This is the best thing that we can do for ourselves.
For our baby. For—”

“ENOUGH!” Aleksey picked up his guns and tucked them into the jacket
he had thrown on.

The man who begged me to be his no longer existed. In his place was the
merciless face of the Bratva pakhan.

“Where are you going?” I prodded. “Please talk to me, Aleksey.” I didn’t
want him to leave and go wherever he was going like this. “What did I do
wrong?”

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he walked out of the bedroom and

slammed the door shut behind him. The frame rattled, and for a moment, I
didn’t know what had happened. My mind was fractured by the look on his
face and his reaction to my suggestion. Didn’t he want a life he could be
proud of? Didn’t he want our child to grow up differently than he and I
had?

Running to the door, I wrenched it open and raced down the hall just in time
to see the elevator doors shut.

He had left. He had walked out. He had left me.

My gut clenched and I fell against the sofa, tears pouring out in earnest. I
didn’t know what I had said wrong to make him react that way, but
whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

I couldn’t breathe, gulping for breaths to get the air into my lungs.
Something had angered Aleksey to the point where he thought he couldn’t
stay any longer. All I had done was try to paint the picture without this
cloud over our heads, and yet it hadn’t been enough.

Nothing that I wished for was going to come true, and now I didn’t know
where I stood with my own husband.

My trembling hand drifted down to my stomach, and I rubbed the place

where our child was resting.

Could there ever be love—true love—between us? Or was that never in the
cards for people like us? I dashed at the tears on my face, forcing myself to
get it together. A new resolve burned in me.

I had to figure out how to keep our child from being raised in this awful
life. I had to figure out a way to stop it from falling into the same trap as its
broken parents.

I was a Tarallo, and Tarallos were made of stronger stuff. And I would use
that strength to get through whatever stood in my way.

And if Aleksey didn’t come back…

No. I wasn’t going to think about that. He would come back, and when he
did, we would talk.

I would make him listen.

Because if we were ripped apart one more time, then I wasn’t certain that
we could ever be put back together.

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 Chapter Forty-One
Aleksey

I balanced the bottle between my fingers before lifting it to my mouth,

letting the liquid fall down my throat.

“Slow down, Alyosha,” Boris said as he reached for it. “That’s enough.”

“I will say when it’s enough.” I yanked the bottle back, the liquor sloshing
against the glass.

Boris eyed me, shaking his head. “What happened?”

I shoved the bottle to his face. “Shut up and drink with me. Eto moi prikaz.”

“You can’t order me to drink.”

“I am your pakhan,” I said bitterly. “I can order you to die.”

Slowly, Boris took the bottle from me and took a sip.

The sky was blurrier than usual as we stared across the empty pier. After
leaving the penthouse, I had called Boris and had him drive me here, as far
away from Elia as I could get. Even through the haze of liquor, I could still
hear her pleading voice mixing with the ghost of Svetlana’s.

Let’s fly away together, Alyosha. Just you and me.

She had no idea what the fuck she had done to me.

“Drinking won’t make it go away, Alyosha.”

“I didn’t bring you here to talk!” I snapped, hating how I felt about the
situation. What was she doing? What we did together had changed me,
made me care, made me feel. And in a single sentence, she had made me
remember.
I couldn’t deal with it. Almost the same exact words…The same exact
pleading tone.

I upended the bottle, sucking down the liquor before Boris snatched it away.

“Enough!” He tossed it to the ground, shattering it into a million little

pieces.

The haze of the alcohol enveloped me, and suddenly, I was ten years
younger. Suddenly, I was watching that horrible night in my mind again—a
night that I could never forget.

***

That night, I had gone so far as to make all of the necessary arrangements to
leave the world that my father had built behind for the exact kind of life
Elia had described. Except then, it was with Svetlana. She was beautiful,
and she was the only woman that I loved until Elia stepped into my life.

I truly thought that she and I could live a life far away from the path that my
father had laid out for me.

“Let’s fly away together, Aleks,” she had told me before that fateful night.
“Just you and me.”

But we didn’t get very far. I closed my eyes, and I could feel Father’s rough
hands dragging me out of the car. Boris had been with me then, and he was
forced to watch with me as Father handed out his judgment.

I fought. Oh, I fought like I’d never fought before. I begged my father to let
her go. Said that whatever sins I had committed, they were committed by
me alone. Whatever punishment he would parcel out, it would be mine to
bear.

That was the last night that I ever cried.

Svetlana had screamed when they pushed her to the ground. She kicked
when they ripped her clothes from her. She reached for me, but Father kept
me restrained so that our hands could never touch. Even as she reached for
me in desperation, begging me to save her.

And then his brigadiers lined up behind her. One after another.

“Let this be a sharp lesson to you, Alyosha,” Father had snarled in my ear
as he forced me to watch his men rape her while I struggled in vain to save
her. “Never forget this.”

And when it was all over, Svetlana lay sobbing on the ground, bleeding
between her legs. Bruises, cuts, and cigarette burns marred her face, arms,
and legs. She had been so beautiful, and Father had ripped it all away. That
was when Father added the final act of humiliation. He handed me a roll of
bills and told me to pay her and thank her for being a good whore.

That night, I tried to drink myself to death. And I would’ve succeeded had
Boris not been there.

Three months later, I was sent away to New York. I asked Father about her
before I left. He simply shrugged and told me she’d disappeared to the
streets like all whores did, and that she was in all likelihood, dead.

***

“Alyosha!” Boris shook me, and I returned to the present.

I couldn’t give Elia what she wanted. Because deep down, I was afraid that
Uncle Misha would punish her the same way Father punished me. If not
Uncle Misha, then it would be her father. Or this mysterious Bogatyr.

“Does this have to do with your wife?” Boris asked softly.

I sighed and looked up at the spinning night sky, the lapping waves at the
pier sounding like they were far away. Elia made me weak. I shouldn’t have
let my guard down around her.
“Do you remember the last night we did this?” I slurred. “Ten years ago.”

“Alyosha…” The fight slacked out of Boris. Understanding and sympathy

tinged his voice. “Let the past die.”

“I can’t, Borya,” I muttered. “She made it come back…she made all of it

come back.”

Looking over at Boris, I debated telling him what had happened between
Elia and me. All of it. I didn’t know what to do next, or if what I did was
going to be the right move.

For the first time in my life, I was unsure of myself.

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 Chapter Forty-Two
Aleksey

“Aleksey Fyodorovich,” a familiar voice called out behind me.

Boris scrambled to his feet, moving quickly for a big man. Slowly, I rose
with him and saw Uncle Misha’s familiar figure swim into view.

“What are you doing here, Uncle?”

“I could ask you the same,” he countered lightly. “What happened?”

I stared at my uncle. I shouldn’t be surprised that he could find me

wherever I was. It was the duty of every brigadier to know where his
pakhan was. Doubtless, Uncle Misha was just checking up on me.

“Have you been to my penthouse?” I asked lightly, not knowing why the
question tumbled forth.

Surprise filtered into his expression. “No, of course not. I heard that you
were out here and wanted to make sure you were all right.”

A mixture of emotions rolled through me. I didn’t know whether I wanted

to tell him to fuck off or to pull him into a hug.

“I am here to help you, nephew,” he said, his expression softening. “I’ve

always been here for you, Alyosha. And I will always be here for you, my
pakhan. I know I’m not your father, but that has never stopped me from
looking out for you.”

He sounded so sincere that I paused. Could I tell him? Could I believe him?
Or was this another ploy?

There was only one way to find out. Swallowing hard, I made a decision
that I hoped I wouldn’t regret. “You were right.”
He pursed his lips and sighed. “I’m afraid you are going to have to be more
specific.”

“I was a fool, Uncle,” I said tightly. “You were right. I trusted that viper in
my bed and nearly paid a price for it.”

Boris muttered a curse. Uncle Misha moved closer, reached out to clamp his
hand on my shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Alyosha,” he
said, his voice laced with sadness. “I truly am.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” I forced out, letting my bitterness come through in my

words. “You were just looking out for me. For the Bratva.”

“What happened?”

“She tried to get me to leave, Uncle. She tried to make me give all of this
up.”

“Suka blyat,” Uncle Misha spat. “She must’ve gotten instructions from her
father.”

“There’s more,” I said. “I asked if she was the Bogatyr.”

Uncle Misha’s eyes widened. “And?”

“She said she wasn’t. She said that she had no idea who that was.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don’t.”

“It’s not your fault Aleksey,” my uncle said as he dropped his hand. “You
were played from the beginning, as we all were. Ludovico is craftier than I
thought.”

I thought back to my interactions with Elia, thinking about all the times she
smiled at me, the times that she looked happy. I had been happy. Was it
really all just a ploy from her father? From the Bogatyr?

“We can make this right, though,” Uncle Misha finished. “We can end this
all. If Ludovico thinks he can fuck with our family, then we’ll make him
pay. We’ll avenge your father. We’ll make that bitch daughter of his know
what it means to hurt you.”

“What are you going to do?”

Uncle Misha smiled. “Do what we do best, Alyosha. Do to Ludovico what

he accused you of doing to his son. Butcher him in the streets and leave his
body for the dogs. But I need your help, Alyosha.”

“What help could you possibly need from me?” I asked, curious.

Uncle Misha took a deep breath, knelt before me, bowed his head, and
extended his palm. “One does not simply end a rival don so carelessly. I
will need your permission, my pakhan. I will need your men. All you need
to do is speak the word, and I will make the streets of New York run red
with the blood of Tarallos this very night.”

I glanced at Boris, who was listening to my uncle’s plan intently, a frown on

his face. I turned back to my uncle, kneeling and head still bowed. The
liquor pounded at my brain, and Elia’s face swam into view. She was the
current heir to the Tarallo Mafia. The child she carried was the next
generation for both our families’ legacy.

Without family, we had nothing. I had destroyed her life when I took her
brother. Now, she was destroying mine.

Let this be a sharp lesson to you, Alyosha, Father snarled behind me again.
Never forget this.

My throat worked as I stared at my uncle, knowing that he was sincere in

his words. My father’s death needed to be avenged, this was true. But had I
not sworn that I wouldn’t become like my father? But then again, was I not
the heir to the family business? Was I not the pakhan of the Korolev
Bratva?

How would it look if I didn’t make certain that the one person most likely
responsible for his death escaped justice?

“You did your duty,” Uncle Misha pleaded below me. “You got her
pregnant. Now give me permission to go do mine.”

Permission, I thought bitterly. As if he ever needed permission to do these

things. He, who hid so much from me. He, whom I suspected of treason for
so long. To think that he was the only one who had never stopped telling me
the truth.

“Permission granted, Mikhail Yevgenievich,” I finally said, my voice soft

but laced with steel. “Take my men. Go to New York. And do not return
until Ludovico Tarallo is dead.”

A feral smile spread across my uncle’s face as he stood, and he pulled me

into a tight embrace, patting my back with a clenched fist. “As you
command, my pakhan. It will be accomplished.”

I pulled away. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Of course,” he replied, straightening his coat. “Your father would be proud
of the man you have become.”

I inclined my head in acknowledgment as he turned to go. A sense of relief

washed over me when Uncle Misha disappeared back into the darkness.

“What the fuck?” Boris growled the moment we were alone again. “Have
you lost your mind?”

I turned to my oldest friend. “Go with him.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Go with my uncle, Borya.” I reached for my father’s voice. “Eto moi
prikaz.”

He clenched his jaw, and for a moment I thought he might punch me clear
across the face. I didn’t like pulling rank with him. But it was the only way
I could get him not to argue. Both of us knew this.

“Fine,” he said a moment later, his hands clenched at his sides. “I will do
this. But know that I strongly disagree with this decision of yours.”

“Tell me everything as soon as it’s done.” I nodded curtly. “You are still my
eyes and ears.”

Boris sighed, moving silently in the dark toward the direction that my uncle
had disappeared. A moment later, I was left alone on the pier.

I turned back to the dark water before me, wishing that Boris hadn’t
smashed the bottle that now lay in a million glittering pieces. I closed my
eyes and let the nightmares of the past overwhelm me in horrifying detail.

This is the only way, I lied to myself.

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 Epilogue
The Bogatyr

I pulled absentmindedly at the cuffs of my long-sleeved blouse, watching as

the rain slipped down the car window. It was sometime after midnight, and
the club Blindfold was packed. Each time the door swung open, loud bass
pulsated out of the building. A laughing crowd waited outside for their turn
to enter. The bouncers looked tired as they let in yet another stream of
scantily clad girls.

My finger brushed the scars of the cigarette burns in the palm of my hand
and I sighed. Once upon a time, I would’ve been there with them. And even
now, I still longed to be there with them—so pretty and beautiful and
unmarred.

But someone had taken those things from me. And no amount of longing
would ever bring those back.

I looked up at my reflection in the car’s vanity mirror and recoiled at the

familiar hideous visage—scarred and ruined—that had stared back at me
for ten years. A familiar hatred welled up inside of me.

“Fuck you, Aleksey…” I whispered. “Fuck you.”

I had wanted to kill myself that night as I lay there on the ground,
desperately trying to convince myself that the worst thing imaginable hadn’t
just happened. I closed my eyes, and a single tear rolled down my scarred
and broken cheek. I could still hear the laughs of his father’s men. I could
still feel the cuts and burns across my body. The searing pain between my
legs.

But nothing hurt more than when Aleksey pressed that roll of bills into my
hand and thanked me for being a good whore. Just as his father ordered him
to do. Like a beaten dog.

And in that moment, I filled myself with a new resolve—a new, undying
hatred. This hatred kept me alive, even after I learned that I could never
have a child because of the ordeal I went through.

I vowed that I would destroy him. His family. And everything he held dear.

A few messages carved into the corpses of Korolev men that I catfished and
fake threats that an arms dealer my father used to run guns for was
muscling into Chicago were all that it took. Fyodor Korolev was practically
champing at the bit to send his only son to New York in order to forestall a
threat that never existed in the first place.

And where Aleksey went, I followed.

Ten years, I thought bitterly. Ten years, I watched him from the shadows.
Ten years, I hoped that he might think of me.

And for ten years, I watched him fuck his way through New York, leaving a
trail of one-night stands behind him. Each one of them beautiful like I used
to be.

Did he ever give a fuck about me? Did he even care?

The death of Fyodor was the result of my own decade-long plans finally
coming to fruition. The dirty bastard frequently sought out pretty young
girls whenever his wife was busy fucking other men.

A single capsule of ricin, a bribe to the bartender at the right time, and
Fyodor died in his bed.

The world was none the wiser, yet his death had done nothing to sate my
cravings for vengeance.

As for Ludovico, the death of his son, Luca, had made him foolish. He was
willing to ally with anyone and do anything if it meant that he could hurt
the Korolevs.

When my envoy told him to hand over his daughter to the man who
murdered his son, he had done so without hesitation. He was a bastard, just
like Fyodor. All of these monsters were the same.

Me? I was the biggest monster of them all, because I made them fear.

“Madam, they’re here.” My envoy’s voice sounded beside me.

I opened my eyes and stared ahead. Another car had pulled up. I recognized
Mikhail Korolev in the driver’s seat. But it was the familiar face of the man
next to him that made my heart skip a beat.

Boris.

He had also been there that night Fyodor’s men destroyed me. He had been
forced to watch with Aleksey. To share his guilt.

He was always Aleksey’s shadow, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I

thought Aleksey might be here too. For a moment, I dared to imagine that
Aleksey might recognize me and hold me in his arms, begging me for
forgiveness.

The past is dead, Svetlana. I clenched my fist, digging my nails into my

palm.

The truth was…even after ten years of hating Aleksey Korolev, I still
wanted him. I hated that I couldn’t get him out of my mind. He haunted me
in my dreams. Dreams where I was whole and unbroken. Dreams where I
was still beautiful.

But he was married now. A marriage I had engineered, and one that he had
never wanted. His bride—as far as I could tell—wanted him like I had. So
much so that she’d gotten pregnant almost immediately after marrying him.
The knowledge of that shattered my heart all over again.

It was supposed to be my child, I thought bitterly. Not yours, you

undeserving bitch. It was supposed to be me. ME!
I kept my eyes trained on Mikhail and Boris. They were staring at the door
to Blindfold intently, waiting to see who might step out. I had tipped off one
of the Korolev informants in New York that this was where Ludovico was
going to be tonight. Ludovico had served his purpose, and now it was time
for me to tie up this loose end.

Savage anticipation thrummed through me as I watched with bated breath.

Ten years of planning were finally about to reach their culmination. My
vengeance was close. I could practically taste it.

I turned my gaze back at the door to Blindfold as it opened fatefully.

Ludovico Tarallo stepped out with two scantily clad girls on his arms. My
eyes narrowed at their pretty faces and outfits that I no longer dared to wear,
and I felt myself reaching back for the comfortable warmth of hatred.

In the other car, Mikhail made a motion. A smile curled upon my shredded
lips.

Once Ludovico was dead…then it would be time for me to drive the wedge
between Aleksey and his pretty little wife. And she was pretty. So pretty.
Petite, full-figured, with a face so innocent that I might almost hesitate to
destroy it.

Almost.

I would make her hurt like I did.

Would she scream like me? Would she beg him to save her like me?

Would he watch me ruin her the same way he watched his father’s men ruin
me?

There would only be one way to find out.

END OF BOOK 1

Elia and Aleksey’s story continues in book 2 – Unwillingly Mine

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRKDJBMZ
Available for free via Kindle Unlimited:

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OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER
SUVOROV BRATVA
DARK PROMISE
WICKED VOWS
CORRUPTED OATH

BELAYA BRATVA
CONQUERED BRIDE
BROKEN BRIDE
SINFUL BRIDE

MARCHETTI MAFIA
SAVAGE LIES
HATEFUL TRUTH
CRUEL DECEPTION

D’AGOSTINO MAFIA
BROKEN INNOCENCE
CHAINED POSSESSION
WOUNDED REDEMPTION

CAVAZZO MAFIA:
HEARTLESS PRINCE
MERCILESS KING
RUTHLESS ANGEL

FALIERO MAFIA
CAGED PRINCESS
BROKEN QUEEN
SHATTERED EMPRESS

KRYLOVA BRATVA
CAPTIVE
PRISONER
POSSESSION
IVANOV BRATVA TRILOGY
TAKEN BY THE BOSS
OWNED BY THE BOSS
HELD BY THE BOSS

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