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.

CONQUERED BRIDE copyright @ 2022 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.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CONQUERED BRIDE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
EPILOGUE
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CONQUERED BRIDE
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 CHAPTER 1
Naomi

It was my wedding day.

I had dreamed of this day since I was a little girl. I dreamt of what I would
wear. I dreamt about my father smiling at me with tears in his eyes as he
walked me down the aisle. I dreamt about my mother blinking away tears of
joy when she saw me in a veil that floated down my back, the gossamer
material caressing my bare shoulders. My best friend Ilsa would giggle and
carry on as she helped me put on the garter belt, and we would toast the
happiest day of my life with champagne and wine while my hair and
makeup were being done.

It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.

I drew in a shuddering breath and looked at the woman staring back at me

in the full-length mirror, searching for any remote sign of happiness in her
eyes.

There was none. I couldn’t even fake it, and as an actress, I prided myself
on faking just about any sort of emotion.

Instead, the woman in the mirror stared back with other emotions: dread,
apprehension, and fear.

My father wasn’t here. My mother wasn’t here. Ilsa wasn’t here. I was
alone, and the only person who had once accompanied me had already left
the room, her tasks complete.

Maybe it was for the best.

Because if they knew what lay in store for me, their hearts would break.
They’d beg for me to be released from the terrible fate that awaited me, and
if I knew anything about my husband-to-be, he’d force them to watch as he
claimed me at the altar.
I touched one of the curls draped over my shoulder, teased and styled so
solidly in place that a hurricane couldn’t move them. Outwardly I was the
picture-perfect bride. No expenses had been spared. The undergarments I
wore under the dress were lace and silk, probably the most expensive set I
had ever put on.

The dress, well, it wasn’t the one I would have chosen, but it exuded the
wealth and power that I was about to marry into.

But no amount of perfection could hide the ugly, horrific truth.

This marriage was a lie. And I was a captive bride in all but name.

It had all started when I was trying to help my best friend Ilsa, a detective
with the LAPD, and her husband Roman, don of the Marchetti Mafia, save
a young Russian girl—Sveta Orlov—who had been ripped from her family
at the expense of her maniacal father. Since I was the only one that Ilsa
knew who spoke Russian, they had brought her to me, and I had helped
concoct a foolproof plan.

Unfortunately, the plan had gone sideways before my part had come up.
Sveta had been killed. Ilsa and Roman had been forced to take down her
father by themselves, along with all who were involved.

I’d thought that would have been the end of it.

I was so wrong.

Now I was about to marry a monster.

Gavril Kirilenko.

The very name sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t know anything about
him other than he was dangerous and powerful. He had made me do
terrible, shameful things in the short time that I knew him. He had stripped
away my dignity and made me aware of just how powerless I was in his
hands.
The things he made me do…Oh God. I didn’t want to think about them.

And now, I was going to marry him.

What other choice did I have? I thought about telling him the truth, but
based on what he said to me, based on what he had made me do, I knew that
a worse fate than being his wife awaited me if he found out the truth.

And so, I had to pretend to be Sveta until I could find a way out of this. I
had no means of contacting anyone. My cell phone had been taken away
when I was kidnapped from my apartment a few days ago. Aside from Ilsa
and my agent, no one else was going to be looking for me.

Well…there was one other person. But there was no way in hell I wanted
him to find me.

Honestly, I had a pretty sad life outside of my social media pages. Those
showed a woman who enjoyed life, one who seemed to have it all: money,
influence, popularity, self-confidence.

In reality, I didn’t have any of those things. Most of the clothing I wore was
from thrift shops all around LA. I just knew which ones received the
leftovers from the production companies and celebrities.

Popularity was easy when you were going to all the places that everyone
else wanted to go to. I had the gift of gab, just about able to talk my way
into anything.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that I had a pretty face, or at least that was what
they told me. My long blonde hair was just like any other girl in LA; my
pale body helped me stand out among the fake tanners that I usually shared
an interview room with.

I kept my body in top shape because getting acting gigs required that I look
my best.
All that my looks had gotten me was a few B-rated films that had paid
enough for me to pay my rent in LA, but so far, nothing had panned out to
pay more.

A few of the gigs that my agent had found were promising, but now all that
was my past. I had missed those appointments. And if anything, Chuck had
probably written me off as another blonde bimbo lost to LA.

If he only knew that I was about to play the biggest acting role of my life.

The door opened behind me, and I lowered the veil, obscuring my features
from everyone. I had to do this. I had to make sure that no one believed me
to be anyone else other than Sveta, not until I could find a way to contact
Roman or Ilsa to get me the hell out of this mess.

Turning, I tried to portray the meek girl who knew nothing about the world
she had been thrust into. They knew me as a girl who spoke no English, and
it had proven difficult for me to maintain the air of speaking flawless
Russian.

Thank God for my electives in college or I would be screwed.

The man at the door held out his arm and I took it, keeping my hand from
trembling as I laid it on the sleeve of his suit coat. The church I had been
brought to earlier was one I recognized, the Holy Transfiguration Russian
Orthodox Church. It was one I had filmed a soap opera episode in once
before, a gorgeous sanctuary that would be on any bride’s most wanted list
for a perfect wedding day.

My dour-faced guide moved me before a set of heavy wooden doors, and

my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. This was it. There was no
turning back.

What would Ilsa say about this? Would she urge me on? Doubtful. She
would tell me that I was crazy and have Roman whisk me somewhere to
hide.
A sudden rush of tears assaulted my eyes and threatened to ruin my
makeup. I blinked them back, clearing my vision once more. I wasn’t going
to cry. Not today. I had already cried enough since I had been taken. Tears
didn’t solve anything, and they sure as hell weren’t going to get me out of
this.

The doors opened and I was forced to step forward onto the shiny lacquered
floor, looking up at the vaulted ceilings and ornate carvings that were at the
end of a long aisle. Surprisingly the wooden pews were packed with guests,
all standing and turning as the pipe organ music swelled. None of their
faces were familiar, and my heart wrenched in my chest.

I wanted my family here. I wanted my friends here.

Hell, I wanted a man who actually cared about me waiting at the end of the
aisle.

I wanted to feel happiness instead of emptiness and dread. I wanted to cry

tears of joy instead of tears of fear.

This was supposed to be a day I wanted to remember. Not a waking

nightmare I wanted to forget.

Somehow I made myself move down the aisle, my head held high, the only
sounds the music in the large sanctuary. No one spoke, no one whispered, as
if they were frozen in place, surprised that they were attending a wedding
after all.

The closer I got, the tighter the knots grew in my stomach. He was there,
waiting for a woman he thought he was going to wed.

Instead, he would be getting an actress that had no ties to any Bratvas. He

would be marrying a poor girl from a blue-collar family that could barely
rub two coins together some days, a woman who could give him none of the
power he was looking for.
Even if I did lose my life over this, at least the biggest joke was about to be
played on him.

I took the steps up to the altar and turned, my train cascading down the
steps behind me. Only then did I allow myself to look at my soon-to-be
husband—Gavril Kirilenko.

His hands were clasped before him, the silver ring on his right hand
catching the low lamplight. He was dressed in a black suit, his white shirt a
bright contrast to his tanned skin underneath. His dark brown hair was
slicked back on his head, exposing his wide forehead and a set of high
cheekbones dusted with the beginnings of a beard. Gavril’s eyes were
almost gray in color and as he gazed at me intensely, I fought the urge to
run back down the aisle screaming.

There was no warmth in his stare. No affection. No love. The only thing I
saw staring back at me was inky coldness. The man before me wasn’t a
kind man. I had already found that out in more ways than I’d liked.

I doubted there was a bone in his body that could even understand what
kindness was.

My heart wanted to hang onto the fact that Roman, Ilsa’s husband, had been
the same way. She had given me their complete, sordid tale and how he had
turned from a cold-blooded killer to a man that cared about her and their
unborn child above all else.

But as I looked at Gavril, I knew I couldn’t cling to that hope. This man was
born and bred to be harsh, and nothing was going to change that.

Least of all me.

A monster like him shouldn’t be so damn gorgeous. Gavril filled out his suit
nicely, from his broad shoulders to the tapered waist and everything in
between. As my eyes roamed over his impeccably dressed form, my
stomach tightened at the memory of what he was capable of.
A memory that I would never admit to liking.

Gavril was power, danger, and sex all wrapped up.

And in a few moments, he would be my husband.

No, I reminded myself. Not my husband. Not Naomi Spencer’s husband. He

was marrying Sveta Orlov.

The priest cleared his throat, and Gavril gave him a curt nod.

“Begin,” he said in Russian.

Thank God I had taken that Russian class in college. I thought it was a
useless elective years ago, and now, that useless class might be the only
thing that was keeping me alive.

The priest started, and Gavril took my hand in his. His touch was warm, and
I tried to fool myself into believing that it was reassuring.

But I knew better.

There was nothing soft about this man, nothing that was going to make me
feel at ease. He’d made me do unspeakable things before this day. And the
thought of what he’d do after his ring slipped on my finger sent a shudder
down my spine.

A few times I was forced to kneel before the priest with Gavril, keeping my
eyes downcast so he couldn’t see the indecision there behind my veil. I
wasn’t very religious and had only attended a handful of Catholic weddings
in my day, but never a Russian Orthodox one.

Everything was different, and I didn’t understand the protocol. Each time,
though, Gavril helped me rise, his hand tight on mine as if he knew my
thoughts.
What more could he expect? He was marrying me without my consent. Any
woman would want to run away from this madness!

“And now the rings,” the priest finally said, balancing two circles of gold
on his Bible. My breath caught as I stared at them, wondering why I
thought he wouldn’t wear one. Gavril didn’t seem like the type of man who
wanted to be known as having a wife, but then again, I wasn’t just going to
be a wife.

I was going to be a means to an end, a source of power for him. Little did
he know that nothing he was doing was going to help him in any way.

Sveta was dead. Her father was dead. Gavril wasn’t going to get anything
out of this marriage.

A bubble of laughter nearly escaped me at the thought, but I choked it back

as Gavril reached for the smaller circle. He took it and slid it onto my hand.
The ring itself was simple and elegant. I could see the scroll of designs on
the metal and realized it looked older than I first realized.

It was a family heirloom.

The cool metal immediately warmed on my finger, and even though it was
light and airy, it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Like a shackle that
bound me to him.

Forever.

My fingers trembled as I took the solid gold ring from the priest and turned
to Gavril. He held out his hand, and I hesitated. There were so many other
things I would have liked to do with the ring, and each one would have
resulted in my death. For a moment, I toyed with the idea that I could still
end this. That I could choose to go out on my own terms.

But powerless and wordless, I slid the ring on his finger, past his scarred
knuckle, until it rested at the base.
That was it. We were married.

I barely had time to draw in a breath before Gavril’s hand cupped the back
of my neck and pulled the veil back from my face. His eyes were dark with
intent.

I gasped right before his lips closed against mine, and his hungry tongue
pushed into my mouth, swallowing my small yelps of resistance. His rough
hand pulled me closer, and I felt his insistent heat throbbing against the thin
fabric of my dress—a promise of what was to come.

In sickness and in health.

Till death do us part.

I was his.

To own. To use. To ruin.

Forever.

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 CHAPTER 2
Gavril
One Day Earlier

I braced my hands on my desk and listened to Sveta’s rants as she was

escorted down the hall. I hadn’t expected her to react like that. I had
expected tears, maybe even some begging. But she had reacted to my plan
like a hellion, fighting my men and threatening to kill me.

Maybe she had more of Stanislav in her than I realized. I expected a woman
who would be afraid of me, one that would be crying for her father, a father
she never knew, to come save her.

Instead, I found a woman who had defiance in her eyes, and hell, it stirred
my cock nearly immediately. Were it not for protocol, I might have stripped
her then and there, bent her over and used her until she was a trembling
mess.

A woman with fire was dangerous, but also a hell of a good time.

In that moment, I almost wished that she wasn’t to be my wife. I didn’t

want excitement in my marriage. I didn’t even want to think about her other
than to finish my plan and have her give me a child.

That was I planned for her.

Now that I had her in my home, I wanted to marry her immediately to

ensure that my plan was going to stick.

Well, and to bury myself deep between her legs and make her scream until
her throat bled.

Taking in a deep breath to calm myself, I walked away from the desk to the
window that overlooked a small garden. The fountain shone in the evening
light. This home wasn’t to be our final stop, but it had been my compound
for the last few days as the time grew near to taking Sveta.
It was closer to the city than my mansion was and put me right where I
needed to be.

I had Sveta in my grasp. It was hard to believe that my plan had gone off so
flawlessly. Anatoly had done his job well. And now I was eager to move on
to the next step.

More importantly, I wanted to squelch any notions that I couldn’t pull this
shit off. I was always underestimated, and if Sveta thought that I was going
to take any leniency on her because she showed some fight in her, then she
was wrong.

They were all wrong.

Still, it didn’t matter what sort of person Stanislav’s daughter was. I wasn’t
going to change the course of my plans. For months I had thought about this
from every angle, trying to find some hole in it.

Even my brigadiers thought I was crazy for going this far. But it was a
necessary step. Fortune favored the bold, and this would be the boldest
thing any Bratva Pakhan did. With Stanislav and his son Dimitri’s deaths at
the hands of the Marchetti twins, the pieces couldn’t have fallen in place
better than they had. His Bratva—the Krasnaya Bratva—had no leader, and
no one was going to point them in the direction of power.

No one until me.

I would marry Sveta and assume my rightful place on top of both the
Krasnaya and Belaya Bratvas, so that I could assume the power I craved.

The power that I deserved.

A smirk crossed my face as I sat back in my chair, waiting for Anatoly to

return. He had been the one to grab Sveta from LA, following her into an
apartment that she’d been stashed in and bringing her to my home in the
city.
I wondered if she’d made as many threats toward Anatoly as she had to me.
The girl was a fighter, no doubt about that. From the moment she saw me, I
knew that she’d never love me. That she’d never be devoted to me.

Which suited me just fine.

I didn’t need her love. I didn’t want her devotion.

The only thing I wanted was to pry her legs apart and plant my child in her
womb. Once our bloodlines were mixed, then no one would be able to undo
it.

No one would be able to disavow my claim on the Krasnaya Bratva.

It was an age-old remedy to protecting bloodlines and conquering claims to

the dynasties of the past. Hell, families did it every day to ensure that they
were part of the elite. They married off their children like cattle so that they
could strengthen their empires.

What I would be doing was no different.

Whether my bride-to-be was willing mattered not. I’d have her dragged
down the aisle if need be.

If she played her role correctly, she wouldn’t even need to be in the same
bed as me. I didn’t need her to satisfy my lust. I had many others that would
jump at the chance to share my bed, and there was no doubt in my mind that
once I had Sveta a few times, I would grow bored of her.

No woman held my attention for long these days.

I certainly didn’t expect my wife to do so either.

Anatoly appeared a moment later, looking as if he had gone to war with a

tiger and lost. “She’s in her room again.”

I chuckled as I saw the red marks on his face. “Are you all right?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders in indifference. I knew personally that
he had suffered worse injuries before, from both men and women alike.

“She’s a fighter. That’s good. Maybe she will give you strong sons and
daughters.”

It was. I could appreciate her willingness to fight. It would serve her well in
her new life. “I want her transported to the mansion. She needs to prepare
for the wedding.”

Anatoly arched a brow. “Are you certain you want to go through with this?
Poroshenko, Puzanov, Kovyalyov, and the rest will not have kind words to
say about it. Especially since they know exactly what you’d do to their
Pakhan’s precious little daughter.”

I shrugged at the names of Stanislav’s brigadiers. “Leave that to me. Those

men understand protocol.”

“Join or die,” Anatoly finished the thought.

“Da.”

There were very few men who would be able to question my intentions like
this and live to tell the tale. Anatoly Danilov was one of them. Some would
call him a friend, and others would call him my private killer on a short
leash. The truth was somewhere in between. We had been through a lot of
shit together. He had been there when I had taken over, and he was the one
person I could trust with my life.

And most importantly, the man stuck to the thieves’ code. He had honor.
True honor—not the kind motivated by money or power.

I pushed away from the desk. “Make certain that the boys know that she is
not to be touched. Or I will deal with them personally.”
Anatoly chuckled. “I’m sure that was clear the first hundred times you said
that, Pakhan.”

A mirthless chuckle escaped my lips. “It never hurts to make sure that
orders are clear.”

“Koneshno,” he replied.

Despite his size, Anatoly was a year younger than I was. I had given him a
life he wouldn’t have had otherwise in Russia. I’d brought him off the
streets of St. Petersburg and elevated him here in the States. He was the
brigadier of brigadiers. A man who took care of the finer details, which left
me to handle the broader strokes of the Bratva’s businesses: imports,
exports, new business deals, and strategic marriages.

Even my own.

Speaking of. It was time to turn my attentions elsewhere now that Sveta
was safely under my roof. “Come, we have to go to the docks.”

Anatoly and I walked out of the home and to the waiting car, where I slid
into the leather seat with Anatoly flanking my right. Some Pakhans relied
completely on their guards and associates to protect them. And I knew that
Anatoly would give his life for mine.

Me? I preferred a more equal approach at times. I would do everything in

my power to keep Anatoly alive. He would never let me, of course, as his
job was to keep me protected.

While Anatoly was very handy with knives, I had my own already strapped
to various parts of my body, skilled in both hand-to-hand combat and
weapons training. I had been raised on the ruthless streets of post-Soviet
new Russia, where violence was the only language that people understood.

It was a life that no one in America could ever understand. I had killed my
first man when I was a teenager with nothing more than my bare hands and
a few seconds’ worth of time. And he had done his best to kill me.
The car pulled out of the drive and into LA traffic, a city that had become
my second home. While I preferred the allure of my homeland, there were
far more opportunities in LA. Here, I was the boss and could control my
shipments without the interference of the Russian government.

Also here were the Marchetti and Krasnaya Bratvas, two of my rivals that I
couldn’t very well just let rule LA without my interference.

And interfere they did.

“Shipments will come easier now that Krasnaya and Marchetti are in
disarray,” I remarked, stretching my legs.

“There will be trades up for grabs now,” Anatoly replied, crossing his arms
over his chest. “It might not hurt to expand and line our pockets with more
money.”

I frowned, thinking about the fall of the Krasnaya Bratva to the Marchetti
Mafia.

Stanislav had grown old, and in his advanced age, he had grown
complacent. That had been his downfall.

There was a moment that I thought Roman Marchetti would step in and do
exactly what I was planning to do. But then he’d started a war, all for a
woman, and nearly set all of Los Angeles on fire with that.

Fucking idiot.

There was no one who could make me step away from my destiny, no one
that could make me want to give up my Bratva and the power I was going
to get from marrying Stanislav’s daughter.

Still, I had to thank Roman for doing what he did. After all, he had rid the
world of Stanislav Orlov. Hard to believe that the man had done all that
work, lost all those men—his own twin brother among them—all for a
woman.

Well, no matter.

Once I put the ring on Sveta’s finger, even Stanislav’s staunchest supporters
would have no choice but to follow my lead.

I just needed to jump on my plan before anyone else found Sveta and did
exactly what I was planning to do. I doubted that with the chaos Roman had
left in LA, anyone would have thought to take the only surviving member
who could hold the key to folding the Krasnaya Bratva into their
organization.

But then again, until just a few weeks ago, nobody even knew that Sveta
Orlov existed.

Stanislav was an old-school man who had dodged the KGB. It didn’t
surprise me he could keep such things secret.

And now he was dead. And in a few more days, my plans would be
complete. I would let everyone know that I had married her. Then, I would
be stepping into the old man’s shoes and combining the two Bratvas
together. Krasnaya and Belaya—red and white—old foes back in Russia,
brought under a single roof.

It was almost poetic.

“You know,” Anatoly remarked as the car weaved its way to the docks.
“There is a good chance that both sides will just end up killing each other
the moment you announce the wedding.”

“The Krasnaya Bratva is on shaky legs at best,” I told him, watching as the
city passed. “And without a leader, they will be looking for some order,
someone to build them back up to their former glory.”
“Tell me how you are going to keep your wife from killing you,” Anatoly
smirked. “Because she doesn’t seem to be a fan of yours right now.”

I hid my smile. Sveta wasn’t a fan of me at all. But that didn’t matter.

In time she would come to realize that marrying me was the right thing to
do in her situation. The only thing she could do.

I would be her provider, and once I planted my child in her belly, her role
would be complete. Sure, she would stand by my arm on occasions when
she needed to and play the part of the obedient wife. But I would ultimately
cast her aside.

“She looked older than I thought,” Anatoly continued as the car passed
through the gates to the dock on the far side of town. “I thought she was
supposed to be young.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I bit out, straightening my cuffs and wiping my hands
on my pants.

I didn’t even fucking care what she looked like as long as she got pregnant.
Sveta had been hidden in Ukraine if stories were to be believed, and that
country was going to hell in a handbasket. It didn’t surprise me that she
would look older. War did that to people.

And at any rate, her father would have married her off anyway, using her as
a pawn to make him a successful business match to bring in more money
and alliances.

In this world, marriages weren’t built on love but on mutual interest. The
wives needed not be willing. They just needed to be fertile.

My marriage to Sveta would be no different.

The car slowed to a stop and Anatoly climbed out first, holding the door so
I could step out into the late afternoon myself, buttoning my suit coat as I
did so. The smell was ripe with the sea and fish, the sounds of seagulls
crying in the distance grating on my nerves.

I needed a drink and a few hours in bed, but business couldn’t wait. “We
need to look into alternate supply routes,” I finally said to Anatoly. “Give
them something to work for.”

“Who?”

I looked over at Anatoly. “The Krasnaya brigadiers—Poroshenko and the

rest of them—when they come to join us.”

If they didn’t, well, they wouldn’t walk the earth much longer. Like I said:
join or die. The simplest choices were the best choices.

Anatoly just shook his head and walked off to find those that were
supervising the shipment’s arrivals.

He thought my plan was shit, but it was so much more than that. My plan
was going to work, and in a few more days, there would be no going back.
In a few more days, I would have claimed Sveta, put my child in her belly,
and the name Krasnaya Bratva would never be uttered from anyone’s lips
ever again.

All without a single shot fired.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 3
Naomi
One Day Earlier

I schooled my emotions from those in the car as it wound up the steep

driveway high above the city. I knew that they expected a scared Russian
girl who had no idea what was going on, and it was hard to maintain that
persona.

Okay, maybe not that hard.

I was scared, terrified at what might happen in the event that the man who
took me found out that I wasn’t who he thought I was.

He didn’t look like the type that would laugh at a joke or even crack a true
smile. And whatever evil thing he had planned for Sveta? He was definitely
expecting it to go his way.

I looked out of the window, down at the twinkling lights below us. I had
briefly thought about putting up a fight with the guard that had come to get
me, noting that it wasn’t the one who had taken me to his boss earlier.

He had gotten a face full of raked nails, trying to get me to go back to that
prison of a room. He had glared at me immediately after, and for a moment
I thought he was about to do something terrible.

Instead, the guard had pushed me into the car and climbed in, either afraid
that I would shout out or bound by some instructions to make sure I was not
to be harmed.

Either way, I wasn’t getting out of this, not by myself.

The car pulled up to a large mansion that dwarfed all the houses I had
visited in my lifetime, and the door was opened for me.

“Come,” the guard said in gruff Russian, motioning for me to get out of the
car.
I climbed out into the balmy night, staring up at the mansion with some
trepidation. This was probably my new prison—rather, Sveta’s new prison
with her soon-to-be new husband.

It was all just crazy to think about what was going on and what the poor girl
would have had to deal with if she was still alive. I wanted to say that I was
made of stronger stuff than her, having lived through some shit in my life.

But Sveta? She was just a child! No more than seventeen when she was
ripped from everything she knew. If she were in my place, she’d be terrified
out of her mind.

Maybe it was good that she had died so that she wouldn’t have to live with
a monster who clearly had only one thing on his mind for her.

“Sveta Stanislavovna.”

The formal patronymic greeting almost caught me off guard. I turned,

remembering that was supposed to be my formal name, and saw a man
standing on the steps to the mansion. He was dressed in a severe gray suit,
his hair neatly combed back off his forehead. “Good evening. I’m Ivan
Popov,” he announced, nodding in my direction. “I’m Mr. Kirilenko’s
personal driver. Welcome to the mansion.”

I lifted my chin but kept my mouth shut, knowing that I needed to be

careful with how and to whom I responded.

Ivan didn’t seem surprised at my lack of response, gesturing toward the

door. “Please, if you will follow me,” he answered in beautiful Russian that
I could only wish came out of my mouth.

I glanced back at the car, thinking about running back in. But the guards
would only drag me back out. But at the same time, I knew that once I
walked into that mansion, it would be all over.

My life, my identity, everything.

It would be easier right now for me to walk off the nearest cliff.

Instead, I walked up the stairs and through the door, the smells of lavender
and roses filling my senses.

A wiry older woman was standing in the foyer, her pepper-colored hair
pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a
black dress with no adornment, reminding me somewhat of a nun without
her scarf.

“Good evening, Sveta Stanislavovna,” she said, her voice grating, and her
mouth pursed as if she had tasted something sour. “Welcome to your home.
I am Vera Pushkin, the maid and caretaker of this property. I hope you will
find it to your liking.”

Her voice was hollow, letting me know that she didn’t approve of me being
here and could not care less if I liked the place or not. I wondered just how
much they had been privy to the plan. “I want to go home,” I said softly, my
voice breaking.

No emotion flickered over her face. “You are home now, devushka.” Girl.

That was what I was reduced to.

“Come,” Vera said. “I will show you your room.”

Vera turned and started up the beautiful staircase that led to the second
landing, the wrought-iron railing scrolled with flowers and vines. A large
chandelier hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling above my head and the
floor was white marble, spotless enough that I could see my reflection in it.

Still, there was something sterile about the mansion, something that made
me wonder if the walls had ever heard laughter or happiness.

Swallowing, I started up the stairs, my hand shaking as it gripped the

railing.
Run, my conscience screamed at me, trying to get me to turn around.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Soon, I found myself on the second landing, looking down at Ivan, who was
watching my every step. Did he see something that would make me worry
that I was faking everything? I knew I was surrounded by people that were
going to do nothing but judge me, even hate me because of who my
supposed father was. They were going to do everything that they could to
follow Kirilenko’s plans, no matter at what cost.

I had no friends in this place.

The second landing’s floor was carpeted, so plush that my beat-up Converse
shoes sank into it with each step I took. This was opulence beyond measure,
a statement to something. Most people did it because they were
compensating for something they couldn’t have or didn’t have.

I doubted that Kirilenko was that sort of man. He didn’t look like someone
who was missing anything in his life.

I was marched down a long hall to the end, where a door stood open with
light spilling out from inside.

Vera pushed open the door wider. “This is your room.”

I stepped inside, and the sight took my breath away. A massive four-post
bed dominated the center of the room, covered in an ice-blue comforter that
made it look like it was a cloud. There was a sitting area off to the right,
near the open balcony doors, and another door to the left, which likely was
an in-suite bathroom or a walk-in closet.

The room was painted white, the carpet white, and the furniture a heavy
dark oak. It was a mix of elegance and masculinity.
“This is your washroom,” Vera continued, crossing over the room to the
door to the left and throwing it open. “Everything, you will see, has been
stocked in anticipation of your arrival. The wardrobe is full of clothing that
is your size, and the dresser is where you will find your underthings and
lingerie.”

I was vaguely listening to her, noting that the dresser was covered with
makeup and other feminine things that every woman would find in their
own room.

Holy shit…How long had Kirilenko been planning this?

“This.” Vera pointed to a button on the wall near the bed. “Is to summon
me. I have staff around the clock to see to your needs. Your meals will be
delivered unless the master wants you to dine with him. I will give you the
schedule of meals tomorrow.”

Master?

My head was reeling from what was happening. I thought the mansion was
going to be my prison. No, it would appear that I wasn’t even going to get
that. This bedroom was going to be everything in my life.

“Get some rest,” Vera said as she walked to the door. “He will be home
soon.”

I waited until she closed the door before crossing the room and trying the
handle.

It was exactly what I figured was going to happen.

I was locked in from the outside.

Panic started to rise in my throat, but I tamped it down, turning away from
the door. This wasn’t the time to panic. I needed to find a way out.
My feet took me to the balcony, and I stepped out into the night, gasping as
I looked out over the twinkling lights of LA below. It was a significant
drop. The balcony didn’t just hang over the grounds like I thought it would,
but over a sheer cliff.

Below, the inky darkness beckoned me to try.

To my right and left were the grounds, and even in the darkness, I could see
the guards patrolling the lawn. There was no sound coming from anywhere.

But that wasn’t the most startling thing. It was the barbed wire fence that
graced the property in the distance, the sharp edges peeking up over the
hills along the edge of the territory.

From the outside, the mansion probably looked just like the others: a high
stone wall encircling the property and hiding the interior from prying eyes.

But from the inside, it looked like a fortress capable of withstanding a siege.

Drawing in a breath, I clenched the stone railing between my hands,

wishing I had the balls to just jump off the balcony and pray I would go
quickly. It would be so easy to do.

Did Kirilenko plan this? Did he put me in this room so that I’d be tempted
to try? What would Kirilenko think if I did just that?

Would he even care?

No, I thought. He would care.

I would ruin his plans. And I was certain he had other plans lined up in case
I did something as foolish as this. Hell, maybe he even had another woman
to kidnap.

But then I thought about Ilsa, the child that she carried in her belly, thought
of my parents, and knew that I couldn’t give up.
I couldn’t jump. I had my true family to live for, and I knew that they would
be devastated if I was gone. Even more so, Ilsa would want to find out who
had made me jump, and I couldn’t ruin the happiness she had found.

I couldn’t. I would die ten times over rather than be the cause of other
people’s sorrow.

Turning away from the cliff, I went back inside, systematically opening the
wardrobe and drawers. As Vera had said, they were full of clothing. The
labels in the wardrobe alone must’ve been an eye-watering expense. To say
nothing about the designer shoes that were lined up just right at the bottom:
Louboutins, Louis Vuitton, and even some Stuart Weitzmans.

The drawers were full of expensive silk lingerie, from racy thongs that were
no more than dental floss to delicate gowns that slid through my fingers as I
touched them.

And designer bags—each one easily tens of thousands of dollars—in every

shape and size to complement the different outfits.

This was every woman’s dream wardrobe.

I shut the drawer and yanked open the rest, finally finding normal clothes in
the very bottom. Even here, the casual athletic clothing was luxury brands
like Lululemon.

I pulled out a set and walked into the bathroom, marveling over the stone
walk-in shower with multiple showerheads and a sunken tub that was big
enough for two. The image of a naked Kirilenko pushing me against the
shower walls as his rough hands forced apart my legs crossed my mind, and
I turned away.

My cheeks heated. I knew there would come a time that he would want to
consummate our marriage, to stake his claim on Sveta.

What would I do then?

I wasn’t a virgin, hadn’t been for a number of years, but given the
conversations I’d had with Sveta right before her death, I imagined she was
pretty green in the nature of passion and sex.

Which meant I would have to find some means to explain it or tell the truth.
My stomach knotted at the thought, and I removed my clothing quickly,
ignoring the full-length mirror on the wall as I did so. I didn’t want to see
myself, to see the woman who was living a lie.

After pulling my hair up and brushing my teeth, I climbed underneath the

fluffy comforter and lay in the dark, hot tears leaking out of the sides of my
eyes. I didn’t sob aloud, afraid that there might be bugs in the room,
listening to my every movement. It hurt to know that I might be looking at
my death at some point in the next few weeks.

Maybe the cliff didn’t seem so ominous after all.

** *

Morning came all too quickly. I barely opened my eyes as the door opened
and Vera marched in, carrying a tray of food. The smells made my stomach
rumble in agreement.

“Up,” she snapped, setting the tray on the bed. “The master wants to see
you downstairs within the hour.”

“I’m not a child,” I replied in Russian, barely remembering to do so at the

last minute.

“If you were,” she answered, “Then I would have a bigger problem with his
plans. I will come back for you in thirty minutes. Wear something
pleasing.”

She was gone before I could respond and I cautiously lifted up the silver
dome from the plate, finding steaming eggs and two slices of bacon along
with some fruit. There also was one slice of toast, perfectly browned, and a
small pot of coffee, with various creamers and sugars to put in it.
Heaven on a silver tray. God, I hadn’t eaten since I’d been taken.

Heedless of the time, I devoured the food and drank all the coffee before
finally rising from the bed and digging through the wardrobe to find
something that wasn’t going to show a lot of skin. I finally settled on a
romper that showed off my legs and bared one shoulder before crossing
over my breasts to gather at the other shoulder. With my hair down, I
looked like the woman he expected me to be:

A young, innocent Sveta, frightened and unsure of who this man was.

When Vera knocked on the door again, I slid on a pair of flats. “You look
like an American,” she sneered, motioning for me to hurry. “I suppose it
will have to do.”

I mean, I was. What did she expect me to wear? Stiletto heels?

Numbly, I followed her down the stairs and through the foyer, to a room
that was flooded with light. It would be a wonderful place to spend idle
days reading, but today there was only one thing that caught my attention.

Gavril Kirilenko stood in the center of the room, dressed in a suit with the
dress shirt opened at the neck. His hair was slicked back off his forehead
again, and I idly wondered if anyone had ever mussed him up before or
what he would look like waking in the morning. I spotted a tattoo of a
church spire peeking out from the V of his dress shirt, and for a moment I
wondered what other tattoos dotted his body.

A flush moved through me at the thought, and I looked away, my cheeks

red.

“There is no need to be embarrassed, Sveta,” Kirilenko said softly. “I will

know everything about you, every inch of your skin until you are marked as
mine. And you will do the same with me.”
My stomach clenched at the thought, the breakfast I had nearly coming
back to make an abrupt appearance. It wasn’t a horrible thought. Gavril was
a gorgeous man and, in another time, I would have been very interested in
having him in my bed.

But not like this.

As I turned my eyes back to him, I noted the racks behind him, and Vera
hovering in the distance. “What is going on?” I asked in Russian.

His expression didn’t change. “You are here to pick out your wedding
dress.”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 4
Naomi

A wedding dress. The words echoed in my head as blood pounded in my

ears. It was as if someone yanked out the world from under my feet. I
wanted to vomit on the buffed wooden floors.

Those should’ve been the happiest words I could hear. But instead, all I felt
was cold reality gripping its iron fist around my heart.

“The wedding is tomorrow,” Gavril replied, clasping his hands behind his
back. “And you need a dress.”

Tomorrow.

My head spun. I was having trouble breathing.

I clenched my hands into fists, taking his emotionless expression head on. It
was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I wasn’t Sveta, that he could
marry me and gain nothing. I could already picture his eyes growing dark
with rage, his expression hardening before his hands tightened around my
throat to squeeze the life out of me.

For one maddening moment, I imagined myself smiling through the pain
and spitting in his face as my final act of defiance.

It would be easy. Oh, goodness, it would be too easy to make that a reality.
All I had to do was tell him the truth about what he had already lost without
realizing. And then it would be over.

But I couldn’t force the words past my lips.

Call me a coward, but I didn’t want to die.

I did, however, want to get out of this wedding.

“This isn’t what my father wants,” I finally said, my voice shaking. “He
will never agree to this.”

Gavril looked at me curiously before a short laugh escaped him. “Agree?

Don’t you know?”

“Know what?” I asked in a small voice.

His eyes sparkled with glee, and my skin crawled. “Your father is dead,
Sveta,” he said in a flat tone, with no warmth or emotion attached to his
news. “It doesn’t matter what he planned or what he wants.”

I gasped, and tears sprang to my eyes. I already knew about the death of
Stanislav Orlov. But it was the cold and callous way that Gavril would have
told Sveta had she been standing here in my place. She might not have
cared about her father like a seventeen-year-old would, but to be told the
news by a man with a cruel smile on his face…

“You are evil,” I said softly, my heart going out to the dead girl.

He didn’t respond, instead moving closer to me until he had me pressed

against the wall. His hand reached out and I waited for him to hit me, but
Gavril only grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his gaze.

“You know,” he said, the woodsy scent of his cologne overwhelming my

senses. “You aren’t what I expected.”

I was tongue tied. Up close, I could see the small lines around his eyes, the
flecks of gold there that were just as hard as the rest of him. His cheeks and
jaw were covered with a dusting of a beard.

He looked like he should be on the middle of the runway and not a cruel
master intent on marrying an innocent woman against her will.

“What did you expect?” I asked lightly, deciding to challenge him instead
of remaining silent. “A meek girl who is afraid of you? Who’ll just roll over
at your command?”
His eyes widened just a little, and his fingers tightened on my chin. Clearly
I had surprised him.

But then he leaned in until his lips were mere inches from mine. “That was
exactly what I expected you to be, Sveta.”

I was fixated on his lips, marveling at how lush and full they were. My
breath caught at the sensual way each Russian word dripped off his tongue
like a teasing caress. There was an air of danger in his exterior, but
underneath the danger, there was a wicked attractiveness that made me ache
at my core.

I looked back up at his eyes and saw that he was staring. His lips parted,
and a surge of panic rose up. Was he about to kiss me? No. No, he can’t! I
felt my own traitorous lips starting to part, and I imagined him pushing me
against the wall, his rough hands tearing at my clothes as punishment for
not being afraid of him. His thumb brushed against the bottom of my lip,
and I felt a warm tremor slowly move from my stomach to the space
between my thighs. My breath quickened, and I felt my chin tilting up to
meet his lips.

Suddenly, Gavril released my chin and stepped back, straightening the cuffs
of his coat.

“Oh,” he answered with a dark chuckle. “I like that anger about you, Sveta.
But it will do you no good to fight me. I will get what I want. And in time,
you will beg me for it.”

His stare penetrated me to my core. My hands slowly rose up to cover my

chest, even though I was fully clothed. The smirk on his lips curled up even
further, and I clenched my thighs together, shamefully aware of the
slickness that was pooling between them.

“Take off your clothes,” he finally said. “I don’t have all morning.”
My face flushed, and my heart jumped to my throat. Take my clothes off?
In front of him?

“Why?”

Gavril arched a brow. “While you look very delectable this morning, you
can’t try on wedding dresses in that outfit. Vera has gone to the trouble of
procuring a team of seamstresses to make adjustments on what you picked
out. I tried to give them the best size I could, but the dresses must fit
perfectly.”

I was horrified. He really had thought about everything.

“Take your clothes off, Sveta,” he finished, voice thick and hard. “This is
not a request.”

Of course, he wasn’t. There wasn’t a dress in this room that I wanted on my

body. Especially not one that was bought and paid for by the man who was
going to trap Sveta in marriage and use her for his plans.

Well, he wasn’t staring at Sveta Orlov but Naomi Spencer, who was used to
being pushed around and could fight back just as well.

Fuck him and his plans. I wasn’t going to just go with them.

“No.”

The cruel playfulness disappeared from his eyes. “What did you say?”

I raised my chin in defiance, wishing I had worn my pajamas now just to

spite him. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest in defiance, but I
was going to stand my ground.

“I said no.”

Bracing myself, I waited. Was he going to hit me? Shoot me? Strangle me?
It didn’t matter.
Finally, he said, “Only Stanislav’s daughter would have the balls to talk
back like this.”

No, she wouldn’t, but he didn’t know that. “You can always let me go.”

Gavril shook his head, the hint of a hard smile playing on his lips. “Let me
lay this out for you, Sveta. If you do not agree to pick out a fucking dress
and play the role of blushing bride, I will give you to my guards. You put up
quite a fight against them. And I’m sure they’d be happy to repay that favor
and fuck you until you bleed.”

Fear swirled in my stomach, but I didn’t show it outwardly. “I will kill you
before you get the chance.”

Gavril’s laugh was grating, almost bordering on disbelief.

“Oh, I like you, Sveta,” he replied, reaching into his coat. I watched as he
pulled out a shiny, slim knife, and my heart stuttered in my chest.

Here it was, my death. I’d pushed him too far, and now he had no choice
but to kill me since I wasn’t going to be a willing participant in his plan.

Quickly I sent up words of thanks and apologies to the man upstairs, asking
him to forgive me of my transgressions and find my soul a home wherever
he thought was appropriate. I whispered my apologies to Ilsa, knowing she
would be confused as to what had happened and why, but I hoped that my
best friend knew I had gone down fighting, just like she had taught me to.

To my surprise, Gavril didn’t raise the knife in the air. Instead, he spun it in
his hand and pointed it at me, handle first.

“Do you really think you can kill me?” he asked lightly. “Then give it your
best shot, Sveta. Vera will be a witness, so that my guards will not exact
vengeance upon you should you succeed. And if you’re lucky enough to kill
me, then you will be allowed to leave.”
I glanced over to Vera, and she gave me a small nod, her expression almost
bored at what was going on between us. What had she seen in her lifetime?
Was she used to this horrible person and what he did to people? I had the
sneaking suspicion that if I did end up killing Gavril, she would kill me and
step over my corpse without a second thought.

Still, this was likely the only chance I would have. I could get my freedom
by just killing him. It would be my last chance to take back my life and get
out of this mess.

Besides, I held no special feelings for the man before me. If I killed him, a
lot of people would likely cheer me on for doing so. He must have ruined a
lot of people’s lives. And if we were being honest, the world was probably
better off without him.

So, I took the knife, the slim metal not as heavy as I thought it would be.
My palms were sweaty as I gripped it tightly, searching for the way I
wanted to attack him.

One shot.

That was all I would get.

It had to be the right one.

When I started toward him, Gavril’s eyes widened as if he expected me to

fall apart and throw the knife on the floor. My heart thundered against my
rib cage. With each boom-doom of my heart, my anger grew. I thought
about what he would have done to Sveta, to me.

He might not realize that he had the wrong woman. But he was going to pay
a price for it.

With a snarl I launched at his chest, the knife primed and ready to plunge
into his black heart.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 5
Gavril

I’d never been more entertained in my life.

Sveta launched herself at me, the knife aimed for my chest, and for a
moment, I thought about letting her stab me just to see if it would hurt.

The thought of Sveta stabbing me did hold a certain appeal, and left me
rock hard with need.

It wasn’t the fact that she was going to do me any bodily harm. It was the
fact that she was willing to do it. A nice reminder that she had Stanislav’s
blood running through her veins.

Just as she was poised to thrust the knife into my chest, I grabbed her wrist
and effortlessly turned her arm sideways. She cried out—partly from
surprise and partly from pain. One more twist and I could break her arm in
two, but that wasn’t my intention.

I wanted to see if she was really able to go through with it, and while others
would have been worried about their lives, I wasn’t.

Fuck, no. I was turned on by the threat to my life by her.

There was, however, an undercurrent of worry that I couldn’t shake. I had

been in this position before, and it had cost me a hell of a lot in the end. I
had let down my guard, allowed someone in, and they had tried to destroy
me. I wasn’t going to allow that again.

No one would get that close, not even my wife.

If Sveta wasn’t going to be my wife, if I didn’t already have plans for her,
then I would have snapped her neck and walked away without another
thought as to what I had done.
Instead, I let her arm go, my heart pounding in my chest with both anger
and the need to break something myself. Poor Anatoly would take the brunt
of what had happened here this morning when we sparred later.

“Commendable,” I said as I took the knife from her hand and threw it into
the wall. The handle reverberated as it buried itself against the plaster. “But
allow me to teach you a lesson: if you intend to kill, Sveta, you do not
hesitate.”

Her chest rose and fell with anger, and I saw regret in her eyes that she
hadn’t, in fact, killed me.

Good. I wanted her pissed off, because she wasn’t going to like what I was
about to do next. I had wasted enough time here. There was a shitload of
work left to do, and though I didn’t want a biddable wife, I sure as hell
wanted one right now.

“Quit being a brat and take your fucking clothes off,” I finished, stepping
back to give her room. Vera had worked her ass off all morning to get the
dresses together so quickly, and Sveta was fucking up my plans.

There was a moment of hesitation, and I silently hoped that she would
continue defying me. I wanted a reason to punish her. I wanted to peel that
romper off her body. I wanted to see her try to cover herself as I forced her
hands away.

To my surprise and disappointment, Sveta reached for the zipper on the side
of her romper and slowly pulled it down over her breasts. Lust hit me hard
and fast as her rosy nipples puckered in the morning air, goose bumps
breaking out over her body.

She didn’t look at all embarrassed by doing so, almost defiant that I was
making her do so, and another small measure of concern flooded through
me.

What sort of life had Sveta had? I figured she was untouched, but the way
she was peeling her clothing off her skin, I wasn’t so sure. She was
supposed to be a virgin, but the way she kept her eyes on me as her romper
fell to her feet told me otherwise.

Then there was the fact that her body already had the curves of a woman,
and my thoughts went back to what Anatoly said. This was not the body of
a girl who had been kept in obscurity overseas.

This was a woman who could tempt even the strongest of men with a
practiced wink and the swish of her hips. I allowed my eyes to travel down
from her breasts to her flat stomach and the vee in the middle of her thighs,
barely covered with a scrap of lace the color of the ocean. For a moment I
thought about having her remove that as well, but there was something
alluring at her keeping it on, the only part of her I wasn’t seeing today.

Tomorrow, however, would be a different story.

Tomorrow she would be my wife, and nothing would stop me from

claiming her body as my own.

From ripping those panties off her and tasting what belonged to me.

Sveta placed her hands on her hips, not bothering to cover her form, and my
cock ached to be buried in her warmth. My mouth felt dry, and I licked my
lips. Images of me pressing her against the wall filled my head. I could
practically hear her gasping under me.

I hadn’t wanted someone this hard in a long, long while.

Fuck, I needed to end this. “Go pick a dress and try it on,” I growled as
Vera stepped forward. “Now.”

Sveta walked past me to one of the racks that Vera had set up this morning
and flipped through the expensive dresses I had commissioned for her.
There were a variety of choices, from the raciest cut to a demurer look that
would still look sinful on her body. Hell, I didn’t care if she picked a
handful of them to wear for the wedding and the party afterward as long as
at the end of the night, it was me peeling it off her.
Vera, on the other hand, had questioned my every motive. She told me that
a woman, especially one like Sveta, didn’t deserve to have the wedding I
was planning. She didn’t like that I was flaunting her around, taking her
innocence for my own gain. Like Anatoly, Vera was the only other one in
my life that I listened to, respected even. She had been with me for a long
time, and nothing I was doing was likely surprising her.

Though I imagined she was damning my soul to hell with each move I
made.

Sveta pulled out a gown with a deep V that would stop right above the
dimples at her back. “What about this one, master?” she asked sweetly,
holding it up.

I arched a brow, the word master seemingly off coming out of her perfect
pink lips. While I wanted certain people in my life to call me that, I didn’t
want my wife to do so.

“Call me Gavril or Kirilenko,” I told her. “And that dress is a good pick.” It
would make every person at the wedding lust over her, but they would be
powerless to do anything about it. Exactly like I wanted.

She shrugged and held the dress out to look at, turning it to where the light
caught the shiny material. “I don’t like it,” she said right before she ripped
the neckline with her bare hand and threw the dress on the floor a moment
later.

Apparently, my fiancée wasn’t done being a brat after all. “Don’t.”

Sveta ignored me and selected another dress. “I don’t like this one either,”
she said before tearing it as well.

“Sveta, stop,” I growled as she threw it on the floor.

Sveta ignored me and grabbed another dress. “Or maybe this one?” she
asked. “I don’t like it either!”
Rip. Rip. Rip. One dress after another fell to the ground. Each more
expensive than the last.

I walked over there before she had a chance to rip the final dress and pinned
her against the wall so hard that the pictures rattled around us.

“You will stop,” I seethed, my eyes boring into hers. “And you will
apologize to Vera and her team for ruining their work.” While I wasn’t one
to have her antics piss me off so badly, she was ruining perfectly good
work.

Absolutely unacceptable.

“I will not apologize,” Sveta answered defiantly, lifting her chin. “And I
will not marry you.”

I reached up and pulled the knife out of the wall, watching as she quit
breathing as I pressed the cold blade against her throat, close enough that if
she fell forward, it would slice her delicate skin.

“You may act the brat with me,” I told her softly, my voice barely a
whisper. “But I will not allow you to disrespect my staff.”

This wasn’t just a play for me to show my dominance. I despised when

people disrespected those who were loyal to me. Loyalty and respect went
hand in hand, and if she were a man, I would have gutted her for her
insolence.

Sveta’s eyes dilated, her breathing coming out in shallow pants as I moved
the knife down over her breast, careful not to prick her flesh yet. If she
made one move, a dot of blood would appear.

I wasn’t even sure if she was breathing at this moment, likely wondering
what my plan was. Her breasts were full, more than a handful that would
spill over in my hand, but her nipples were high and proud and I moved the
tip of the knife to the rosy bumps, down her flat belly, and pressed it at the
edge of her clit.

“You will apologize,” I told her again, letting my voice drop to a low octave
that had grown men pissing on themselves. “Now.”

I could see how she wanted to defy me, but I was the one holding a knife to
a very vulnerable part of her body right now, and she didn’t know what I
would do.

Hell, I didn’t know what I would do if she acted out again. I couldn’t ruin
her or my plans, but I could make her pay for being a fucking brat. It would
be what was expected, and if she were acting out like this, who knew what
she would do before I could put that ring on her finger.

She had no other option. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I apologize.”

Her words sounded hollow to my ears.

“On your knees,” I said roughly, pulling the knife away from her body.

Sveta’s eyes flashed, but she lowered herself to her knees, her head bowed.
For a moment I watched her in the position of submissiveness, though I
knew she wasn’t anywhere close to be submissive.

For some reason that caused my cock to press painfully against my trousers.
What would it take to make her submit to me? Would there always be this
war between us, or would the day come that Sveta understood where she
belonged?

I didn’t think I would care to see that moment between us. Fighting with
her, having her defy me, brought a certain level of interest to this
relationship, and maybe I had been wrong all along to think I wanted her
meek.

“Apologize.”
Sveta looked up, defiance still burning in her big eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t accept your apology,” I finally said. “I want a proper apology.”

Her lips parted as I reached for the button on my trousers. Then realization
dawned in her eyes. She needed to learn a fucking lesson, and this would be
one she wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

As soon as I lowered my zipper, my cock sprang out, angrily seeking the

relief I had needed from the moment she had peeled her clothing from her
body. With a silent groan, I took it hot and heavy in my hand and stroked it
from head to tip. I was acutely aware of Vera silently watching every
movement, wondering if she was cursing me in her head for making her
watch this.

“Open your mouth,” I murmured as Sveta followed my every move with

her eyes. I could make her beg for my cock if I wanted to, but I would save
that for later, when we didn’t have an audience. “Or you will remain on
your knees until you do.”

To my surprise, she didn’t fall into hysterics like I thought she would,
another notch of surprise on the long list she was currently generating for
me.

Obediently, her lips parted. I curled my finger under her chin and rested the
tip of my cock against her soft, silky lips. A savage surge of pleasure shot
through me as she let out a shuddering breath against my throbbing head.

“Don’t you dare look away,” I whispered as I pulled her head closer and
pushed my way into her warm, inviting mouth.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 6
Naomi

There had been times I was scared in my life. Times that I thought I had
watched my life flash before my eyes and knew that I was going to die.

Feeling that knife pressed up against my throat, though, I knew I had been
close to death, too close. One misstep, one wrong move, and that knife
would have slipped through my skin like butter.

When Gavril had slid the knife down to my breast, I hadn’t been as scared
as I thought I would.

When he pressed its sharp tip against my clit, I was shamefully turned on by
the thought of danger before me. It was disturbing to think that I wasn’t
disgusted by the threat.

But it also warned me how dangerous the man before me was.

I wasn’t dealing with assholes from a club or even overzealous actors that
were looking to have a quickie with what they perceived as an eager actress
looking for her big break. Or with—and I fought back the shudder at the
very thought of the name—Jon.

No, Gavril was different.

I would bet my life on the fact that he killed men with his bare hands, that
he had held a gun more times than I could count, and did horrific,
unspeakable things in his struggles against the other organized crime groups
of LA.

I was on my knees in front of not only a power-hungry man but one that
would be my husband.

Now, I stared as his angry cock pointed at me from its small thatch of dark
hair, the head engorged with need. My stomach dropped when I saw how
big he was, something deep inside of me wound tight.
It wasn’t hard to see the deep V of Gavril’s body through the gap in his
trousers, how his muscles flexed as he moved his hand over his cock. I
swallowed hard. Even without touching him, I knew he was all muscle and
power, the epitome of a fine specimen.

“Open your mouth,” Gavril murmured above me, his hand stroking the
velvet flesh. Despite the panic that was setting in, I felt a bead of wetness
slowly roll down my thighs, hating that every moment in front of him was
turning me on in the worst possible way.

Every part of me wanted to fight back. Instead, my traitorous mouth

dropped open, and I felt him rest the throbbing head against my lips. His
musky odor—intoxicatingly masculine—overwhelmed my senses. And a
small pearl drop rolled down the tip into my open mouth.

His finger curled under my chin, tilting me closer to him so that there would
be no escape. The searingly hot head pushed its way past my lips and
slowly into my mouth.

“Don’t you dare look away.”

Without warning, he filled my mouth. I struggled to keep my mouth open

and breathe through my nose, but he was so large that he was stretching my
jaw even wider, the head bumping the roof of my mouth.

He tasted of salt and something darker, something that I was sure was
unique to him alone.

I didn’t have time to even get adjusted to the feel of him in my mouth as
Gavril thrust forward, and I nearly choked. But I didn’t dare look away.
Something told me that if I did, he would do something far, far worse.

Tears welled up from my eyes as he fucked my mouth. This was too much.
Too soon. If he wanted me to actually pleasure him, he was doing it wrong.
I reached up, trying to push him away from my face. The hot, salty head
rammed against my throat.
“No,” he grunted, grabbed my hands and held them above my head so that
he controlled the rhythm. “You don’t get a say in this.”

My jaw ached, and my head was spinning from the lack of air. Spit and
precum leaked out of the corner of my mouth. The floor started to bite into
my knees. A tear rolled out of my eye and I felt it rolling down my face,
beading at my chin for a precarious second and finally falling silently to the
floor.

I wondered if there was any other way of feeling as humiliated as I did right
now.

I couldn’t do anything. Gavril owned every part of this encounter between

us, and I knew this was how it was going to be in our marriage.

Our sham of a marriage that I didn’t want, and he didn’t know was going to
be the biggest sham of all.

Gavril set the pace, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth and somehow
avoiding my teeth. There was a moment where I thought about what would
happen if I bit down. But the way he held my hands over my head told me
that he could hurt me far more than I could hurt him.

So, I let him abuse my mouth and throat. I let the tears fall down my
cheeks, knowing that Vera was watching my humiliation.

This man will be my husband tomorrow, I thought, and my heart shattered.

I was wrong. He wasn’t just a monster.

He was the devil.

But as the humiliating thoughts crossed my mind and tears rolled down my
cheeks, another thought intruded into my head.
I wanted to take his cock in my hand, to show him that I could stroke him
near completion until he was begging me to stop.

I wanted him to pick me up, bend me over the nearby chair, and push his
thick cock past my dripping sex me until I couldn’t tell where I ended and
he began. Warmth spread from the depth of a pit in my stomach. A twisted
form of pleasure was bubbling up inside of me.

My lower half quivered with need, and I was well aware of the shameful
wetness between my thighs. I shouldn’t like this. I kept repeating. But
another voice in my head screamed, MORE!

I kept my gaze locked with his as he continued to punish my mouth

however he wanted to. Please, I begged him with my eyes. Please just cum
and let this be over. Please.

I also could tell that he was getting close; his other hand found its way to
my hair and held me in place as his hips thrust in and out of my sore mouth.
Panic gripped my heart and for a moment, I thought he was about to drown
me.

To my relief, Gavril pulled out and with a roar, he aimed his release at my
face. The warm spurt of his seed covered my face, neck, and hair, rolling
down in thick, sticky drops over my breasts. I didn’t dare move, my mind
still shocked and numb at what just happened.

My humiliation was complete.

It didn’t help my own aching need, but I wasn’t going to dare mention that
to him or to anyone in the room.

Gavril’s hand found a handful of my hair and yanked up until I was forced
to stand, my legs weak from being in one position for so long. His rough
fingers gripped my chin and forced me to look at Vera, who stood in the
corner, an unreadable expression on her pinched face.

“Apologize to her,” he growled, his fingers digging into my skin.

“I’m sorry, Vera,” I breathed, wondering what she thought about seeing me
like this. Was she happy that he did this to me? Did she feel bad? Did she
even care?

“I accept her apology, master,” Vera finally said.

Gavril let my chin go and stepped back, tucking himself back into his
trousers. “Pick out a dress, and I will see you at the church tomorrow.”

Reality came crash back down. Tomorrow…I would be wed to him

tomorrow. I opened my mouth to speak, but Gavril was already moving
toward the door at a clipped pace, disappearing before I could even utter my
first word.

For a moment I stared at the doorway, half wondering if he would make an

appearance again. My hands, trembling, slowly rose up, and I slowly felt
his sticky essence on my face, my lips, and my hair. My breath quickened,
and suddenly I found my vision blurred with tears.

My chest rose and fell in shuddering gasps as tears fell from my eyes. Did
that really just happen?

“Here.”

Vera’s single utterance broke through the silence, and I turned to find her
holding a towel toward me, her mouth tightened.

“Thank you,” I sniffled.

Her eyes widened, and it was only then that I realized I’d replied in English.

Vera didn’t respond as I toweled myself off, knowing that I still had some in
my hair. My hands trembled as I did so, waiting for her to say anything to
me. Now that my cover was blown, anything could happen.

“You still need a dress,” Vera finally said, sticking to Russian.

I turned, my cheeks aflame for what she saw. “I truly am sorry,” I answered
her in Russian. “For what I did.”

She inhaled deeply and exhaled before she bent down to pick up the ripped
dresses I had thrown on the floor.

“You must choose one, devushka,” she said softly.

This time I wrapped the towel around myself and walked over to the rack,
looking for any dress that caught my eye.

“This one,” I said softly, pulling a dress off the rack. It was lovely, one that
I would have picked myself if this wedding was one that I wanted.

Vera took the dress from my hands, motioning to the towel and tutting with
her lips. “Off,” she stated. “You need to try it on.”

I didn’t fight her, allowing her to drape it over my head and twist me
whatever way she wanted to for the fit. She muttered and fretted under her
breath, putting in pins here and there for measurements.

I stood motionless until she nodded at me to take it off and return it to her.

“It will be ready tomorrow,” she stated firmly, draping the dress over her
arm. “Others will come to help you do your hair and makeup.”

After that, Vera escorted me back to my room, still wrapped in a towel, and
locked me in. I collapsed on the floor the moment she did so, glad to finally
be alone so I could process what had happened today.

Oh God.

The tears started in earnest then as I lay on the floor. The same pit in my
stomach where I had experienced so much pleasure earlier was replaced
with something else. Something that sapped all strength from my limbs.
Something that made me feel worthless. Dirty. Used.
Broken.

I sobbed loudly at how Gavril had humiliated me in front of Vera and how I
had tried to stand up to him, only to fail.

Oh God.

This man would be my husband tomorrow.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Eventually, my tears ran dry and I realized just how cold I was. I slowly got
up and shuffled to the shower, turning it on until the bathroom was full of
steam. The panties went into the trash, and I stepped under the multiple
sprays, allowing them to assault my body and wash away Gavril’s touch.

Was I going to let him touch me tomorrow? What was I going to do if he

questioned the lack of my virginity? Surely by now he had questions. I
doubted that Sveta would have accepted a cock in her mouth so readily.

Sinking to the floor of the shower, I let the water beat my skin until it was
red and hot to the touch. But inside, I was cold. Cold with…what? Dread?
Fear? Shame? I hugged my knees to my chest and felt the tears welling in
my eyes again.

***

After what felt like hours, I got myself out of the shower and threw on some
comfortable clothing. Lying on the bed, I stared up at the ornate ceiling
above. There was nothing I could do now unless I felt like I wanted to
throw myself off the balcony and end it all.

Tomorrow I would be married to a man I didn’t know, pretending to be a

woman that he thought would bring him some measure of power.

He was going to kill me when he found out the truth.

Or he’ll do something far worse than kill you…a little voice whispered in
my head.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to close my eyes, to rest while I still

could. Tomorrow would take all my strength, every bit I had to get through
it. Plus, I had to make sure that I kept up my ruse and did not slip up again.

Because if I did slip up, it could be my life.

I slept fitfully. As the sun started to lighten the sky, I found myself up and
rifling through the clothing, trying to find the right undergarments to wear
with my wedding dress.

I felt like I was about to be led to my execution.

Vera came with my breakfast shortly after, finding me already bundled in a

robe, freshly bathed. “Eat,” she commanded, placing the tray on the bed.
“The hairdresser will be here soon.”

No words about yesterday. No words about my slipup, if she even noticed

that particular moment. Maybe she thought that I knew some broken
English and wasn’t concerned about it.

Instead of being excited about my breakfast, I was too nervous to eat it, and
the coffee tasted bitter on my tongue. After the wedding, would we come
back to this room, or go to another mansion that Gavril owned?

Would I call him Gavril even after what he had done? Right now, master
seemed more appropriate since he was about to own every part of me.

A burst of laughter escaped me. Not every part. The signature I would put
on the papers today would be Sveta’s signature, not mine. In the event that
he found out, we wouldn’t be married.

Not legally.
He would have no control.

Until he holds you down in your bed, the damn voice purred. Spreads that
aching pussy of yours and pushes that big, thick cock deep inside—

“Shut up!” I squeezed my eyes shut.

The door opened once more, and I watched as Vera and an army of women
stepped through, their hands full of boxes and the wedding dress I had
picked out.

My time had come.

Vera pointed to the chair before the mirrored vanity in the bathroom and I
wearily sat before it, allowing a woman to look at my tresses, clucking her
tongue as she did so. When she pulled out her shears, I shook my head,
stopping her.

“I don’t want it cut.” I hadn’t cut my hair in a long time, only trimming the
ends so that it would be the perfect length for my actress auditions.

Vera pursed her lips but nodded and the woman sighed, picking up the ends
and trimming them instead. I met Vera’s eyes through the mirror and gave
her a faint smile in return, glad that she had given me this boon for now.

For an hour I was primped and preened, my hair styled in a manner that was
going to be the perfect style for the dress I was wearing. My makeup was
lighter than I thought it would be, and the sweep of the red lip almost made
me smile, catching myself at the last moment to keep from showing any
sort of happiness today.

I wasn’t a bride.

I was a piece of meat being led to market.

Yet every single of these people thought that I was going to enjoy my
wedding day.
I hated it. My stomach churned suddenly, and I was glad that I hadn’t eaten
anything because I might not be able to keep it down.

After my hair and makeup were done, Vera waved them all away, meeting
my gaze in the mirror once more.

“You will be happy today,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You will smile and laugh and pretend that this is everything you’ve ever
wanted. And after the guests have all left, you will return and give yourself
to him. No fighting. No resisting. Let him have what he wants.”

“Of course,” I answered bitterly, meeting her gaze. “What choice do I

have?”

Vera’s expression didn’t change. “None, but that is how you will stay
alive.”

She walked off, and I kept the tears at bay.

No one was on my side.

No one at all.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 7
Gavril
Present Day

I straightened as I looked out over the crowd of people, keeping my

emotions schooled. The organ swelled behind me, the priest clearing his
throat every five fucking minutes like my bride wasn’t going to walk down
the aisle. Honestly, I would have shot him by now, but killing a man of God
in a church would probably be going too far.

Then again, my soul was already damned to hell. What was one more sin?

Turning my attention away from the priest, I took account of everyone that
was present for my hasty wedding. Anatoly stood to my right, the only man
that I had standing for me. My other brigadiers were scattered around the
church, having brought their wives or girlfriends to witness their Pakhan
getting married.

None of my family was there, of course. They were in Russia, and since it
had all been very quickly put together, I hadn’t thought about flying them
over. Besides, having them so close to me and my enemies was unwise.

After all, that was how Sveta had ended up in my hands. Stanislav had
made the ultimate mistake and put his daughter in the path of monsters.

Now, she was about to wed one.

Drawing in a slow breath, I stared at the doors at the back of the church,
fighting the urge to look at my watch. I would rather be anywhere other
than here right now, despite my grand plans coming together perfectly. Now
that I had Sveta in my presence, the thought of tying myself to her wasn’t
exactly the most exciting thing I could do.

Especially after yesterday. She had acted like a brat, nearly bringing me to
do harm to her so that she could learn that I wasn’t going to put up with her
disrespecting my staff as she had.
Still, I couldn’t deny the way my cock had felt in her mouth. There was a
moment that I thought she had done that before, but the tears streaming
down her cheeks and the way she had tried to pull back from my assault had
erased that particular concern.

My cock stirred to life, and I tamped it down, not wanting to stand in front
of everyone with a fucking hard-on. If nothing else, the wedding night was
bound to be interesting.

I was ready to defile her body, to have her tell me that she was mine and
remind her of who owned her for the rest of her days.

At the end of tonight, Sveta would only speak my name, the name of her
husband, and tomorrow, I would take my rightful place as the head of both
the Krasnaya and Belaya Bratvas.

For that reason, I had extended the invitation to some of the brigadiers of
the Krasnaya Bratva so that they could be witness to the change in their
organization. Of course, I had plenty of security to protect everyone that
was loyal to me, to discourage any of them from even thinking about
stealing my bride away.

If someone did decide to take advantage of the situation, I was ready to take
them down.

There was no doubt, however, that Sveta would walk down that aisle any
minute. I had given explicit instructions to drag her down to me if there was
a need to do so. And if I needed to threaten her into repeating her vows,
then I would do so as well.

She wasn’t going to fuck this up for me either.

One way or another, she would be my wife.

The doors opened, and I felt a small tremor of excitement shoot through me
as a silhouette appeared in the doorway, flanked by one of my guards.
Though she was still far away, I knew it was Sveta.
They made their way down the aisle, every person rising to their feet in
reverence for the bride and her escort. Idly I wondered if she was thinking
about her father or her family being there for her wedding, if she was about
to burst into tears, or if she had resigned herself to the fact that she
belonged to me.

Her head was held high the closer she got, her face obscured by a veil that I
would pull back at the end of our vows to seal our marriage with a kiss.

Still, I wasn’t immune to the way she looked in the dress she had fucking
picked, the strapless number showing off her impressive cleavage and small
waistline. I had already gotten a glimpse of what awaited me tonight, and
hell, it was going to be difficult to get through this day without taking her in
some dark closet somewhere.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sveta stood next to me at the
altar, a cloud of vanilla following in her wake. I reached out and grasped
her hand in mine, feeling the slight tremor in her touch.

The tremor made me smile inwardly. She was afraid of me.

Good.

She should be.

I squeezed her hand, not to give her any sort of comfort but to let her know
that she was mine. Looking over at the priest, who was clearing his throat
nervously, I gave him a sharp nod. “You may begin.”

The priest opened his book. “Dearly beloved.”

I didn’t let Sveta’s hand go as he started his prayers for our devotion to each
other and the love that we were to have for Christ as a married couple. His
words washed over me, and I wondered what Sveta was thinking about this
day. Surely she didn’t expect me to live by any rule that the priest was
going to place on us today.
I had no intention of the act of marriage or love. All I wanted to do was
impregnate her and solidify myself at the top of the ladder.

Still, I helped her kneel when we were told to kneel and take the blessing,
listening to the priest’s questions that were required to sanctify our
marriage.

“Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to
each other in marriage?”

I heard Sveta’s sharp intake of breath, and my own breathing ceased to

exist. If she started to show out now, I wouldn’t know what I would do. She
wasn’t here of her own free will.

Not even close.

“I am.”

Good girl.

“I am,” I added, realizing that the priest was waiting on my response as

well. She wasn’t going to run screaming from the church. She was going to
follow through with this wedding, likely because she knew her life
depended on it.

“Will you honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”

“I will,” I told him, though I wanted to laugh at the thought. Honor another?
Honor a woman at that? I would respect her as long as she respected me and
expect nothing less than her complete devotion to me.

“I will,” Sveta said quietly, her words barely heard through her veil.

“Will you accept children lovingly from God and bring them up according
to the law of Christ and his Church?”
This was one I could answer easily or at least the first part of the question. I
was more than willing to accept any children from this union. “I will.”

Sveta’s hand started to sweat clasped in my own and I gave her another
squeeze, more to tell her to answer the question. “I will,” she finally said,
her voice coming out in a squeak.

The tension between my shoulder blades started to ease, and I helped her
rise to her feet for the next part of the ceremony. I wasn’t going to be an
asshole, well, not completely. After all, I had to show the Krasnaya Bratva
that Sveta would be treated respectfully as my wife. She would be the wife
of the most powerful man in LA and would be expected to act accordingly.

I wouldn’t be able to keep her hidden all the time, as I would have to show
her off occasionally for their sake, and something told me that Sveta was
going to thrive under my tutelage.

She would be the consummate hostess.

We moved on to the vows, which Sveta repeated in halting Russian,

stumbling over a few of the words toward the end. Up close, I could hear
the emotion in her voice, waiting for the moment that she would start to
back out of the wedding and I would be forced to make her comply.

Sveta didn’t, however, and with each portion of the ceremony, my tension
eased even more. We were almost there. She was almost my wife.

“The rings,” the priest finally said, pulling out the rings I had given him
earlier. “Gavril Kirilenko, repeat after me.”

I took the ring from the priest, my thumb rubbing over the intricate scroll
stamped into the gold. It was an unusual ring, with an unusual background,
but I wasn’t going to share that with Sveta now.

“Sveta,” I started, holding the ring poised over her finger. “Receive this ring
as a sign of my love and fidelity.”
I pushed the ring onto her finger and pressed my lips to her hand, my eyes
catching hers from behind her veil. They were wide and full of terror, which
only had my cock responding in ways that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Let
her be frightened of me. Let her be terrified. I thrived on fucking fear.

The priest cleared his throat, and I dropped her hand so that she could take
the ring, her fingers brushing over my hand to take it in hers. Was she
curious as to why I would choose a wedding ring? Many men in my
position did not wear one, but I wanted everyone to know that I had gone
through with my plans and wed my enemy’s daughter.

It was a symbol of the white surrender flag for Stanislav’s men, knowing
that I now owned them all and nothing more than that.

“Gavril,” she started, holding the ring poised over my finger now. “Receive
this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.”

Fuck. I loved her saying my name like that, all throaty and lust filled though
I knew it was my own wishful thinking.

No matter. In time her voice would be lust filled as she begged for my cock.

Sveta didn’t kiss my hand like I did hers and let it fall to my side before
turning her attention back to the priest, as if she were waiting for the next
step.

But that was it, the last step to making us man and wife in the eyes of God
and the church.

Without waiting for the priest to declare us, I slid my hand behind Sveta’s
neck and yanked up her veil, exposing her face for the first time since she
walked down the aisle. Fuck, she was gorgeous. I had forgotten how
beautiful she was, and my cock strained against my trousers. The next few
hours were going to be torturous, but they were necessary.

I crushed my lips against hers, feeling her start of surprise as my tongue

plundered her mouth, making the final mark on her. I pulled her close to let
her have a taste of what awaited her later.

She wore my ring, had my last name, and now she would be mine in
everything tonight.

I couldn’t wait.

When I tore my mouth from hers, Sveta looked slightly dazed, her lips red
from my bruising kiss. Extending my arm, I waited for her to take it before
turning us both to the waiting crowd. Reluctantly the applause came, and I
grinned, knowing that their applause was more because I would demand it
than them being happy for me.

Sveta stood next to me and said nothing, her hand clutching my arm, and I
wanted to shout to the heavens that my plan had finally come to fruition.
“Come, wife,” I said softly. “We have a party to go to.”

I led Sveta down the aisle and to the waiting car, allowing her to slide in
first before I joined her. Anatoly followed close behind, sliding into the
passenger seat, and we were off, back toward the mansion where we would
receive our guests for a dinner that would likely rival any sort of royal
dinner if Vera had anything to do with it.

A flash of gold caught my eye, and my grin grew as I looked at the gold
ring on my finger. Sveta was my wife. I could do anything to her, and no
one would stop me.

No one could stop me. “Tell me,” I finally said, dropping my hand and
resting it on my knee instead. “Did you enjoy the ceremony?”

“Does it matter if I did?” she countered, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.

“Of course it does,” I said lightly as anger flitted through my veins. I could
have fucking married her in my bedroom before I fucked her hard, yet I had
taken the steps that were necessary to ensure that this marriage was a real
one. She should be grateful for what I had done.
“Then I did,” she said flatly, her gaze focused on the passenger window and
not on me. If it weren’t for the way she was clasping her hands tightly, I
would have thought she was just trying to please me.

Instead, she was pissed off at me, and that piqued my interest greatly. I
wanted to test the waters even more, but there were other pressing matters.
So, I left the matter alone. There would be plenty of time later at the
mansion.

I took her arm and forced her to look at me.

“You will play the happy bride,” I reminded her, my fingers digging into
her upper arm. “You will laugh and remain gracious that I have taken you as
my bride.”

Her gaze narrowed, and I half waited for her to snap back at me. When the
fire died, I felt strangely disappointed that she was backing down just as
quickly.

“Yes, husband,” she said tightly. “I will not embarrass you.”

I wanted a fight from her, and she had refused it. I let go of her arm and
opened the door, finding Anatoly already waiting outside to escort us to the
terrace where the reception would be held.

“Already having fun, I see,” he murmured for only me to hear.

I buttoned my coat, ignoring him, and reached in to help Sveta out. After
ensuring that her dress was straight, I led her to the terrace, where our
guests had already arrived. Vera stood off to the side as we entered, the soft
strains of the small quartet orchestra playing in the background. I didn’t
know what Sveta thought about the long table set up, the soft glow of the
candles matching the romantic backdrop of the LA hills. The smell of roses
was heavy in the air, intermingled with the smell of fish and filet mignon
that would be served with dinner.

But first I wanted to dance with my new bride.

The moment we reached the dance floor, I spun Sveta around, pressing her
against me until she could feel my raging erection in her stomach. “Dance
with me, wife,” I murmured, clasping her hand in mine.

Sveta stiffened in my arms, but she swayed with me, her hand resting on my
shoulder. It was hard to ignore how well she fit against my body, how her
head brushed my chin as I expertly turned her around on the dance floor. I
might have been a bastard, but I hadn’t grown up without the finer points in
life, including the proper way to dance.

“Smile,” I reminded her, my lips grazing the outer shell of her ear. Her
smell was intoxicating, and I wanted to devour her right where we stood.

She shivered in my arms, and I grinned against her skin. Everything was
going to plan. I couldn’t imagine that things would go so well or that Sveta
would now become complacent with the fact that she was my wife and after
tonight, I would own everything that was her.

The song ended and I stepped back, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the
back of it and look like the doting husband I was planning to be in the eyes
of her father’s former army. “For you, my dear,” I murmured.

Sveta’s gaze locked onto mine and I saw the concern in her depths, but
there was something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She
was going to be less of the doting wife and more of an enigma for me,
someone that I wanted to break gently so that she would understand that I
ruled this marriage, not her.

I escorted her off the dance floor, only to find several of the Krasnaya
Bratva brigadiers waiting in the wings. Instinctively I pulled her close to my
side, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Have you come to wish us well
in our marriage?”

The oldest one, Konstantin Poroshenko, stepped forward, and dipped his
head. “We have, Pakhan. As you are already aware, we have no means of
fighting your forces now that our leader is gone and we are directionless.”
I fought to show my satisfaction at the news. That was what I had been
anticipating, that the Krasnaya Bratva would come crawling to me with
their tails stuck between their legs, looking for someone to rescue them.

“And we have come to pay our respects to the daughter of our former
Pakhan,” he continued, his eyes on my wife. “Please accept our deepest
apologies. We failed to protect your father.”

Sveta regarded him with interest before she also inclined her head, choosing
not to speak directly. That pleased me. “My wife accepts your apologies
and your allegiance,” I answered for her, tightening my grip on her waist.
“And I welcome you into the fold of my Bratva. I see a great partnership
between the Krasnaya and Belaya in the future. We must stick together to
ensure that generations after us have a rightful place in LA.”

The murmuring caused me to smile, but I moved past them, escorting Sveta
to the table that had been set up for us. Vera hovered over us as we sat
down, barking out orders to fill our wineglasses and providing my favorite
vodka as well. I stood, picking up my glass, and the guests fell silent.
“Thank you for coming to our special day,” I said smoothly, lifting my glass
in the air. “I consider all of you valued members of our family and hope that
you will accept my wife into your arms as well.”

The chorus of agreements filled my ears, but I turned my gaze to Sveta,

who was holding her glass as well. “And to you,” I said, low enough for no
one else to hear. “I hope you realize that this union is the culmination of my
planning, of tireless work to provide you with security for the future.”

Her eyes searched mine, a spark of intelligence showing in their depths

before she snuffed it out. “And what of happiness?” she asked softly.

Bending down, I brushed her lips over mine. “Happiness comes with
obedience, dear Sveta,” I whispered against her lips. “And as long as you
are obedient to me, devoted only to me, you will have everything you could
possibly want in life.”
I wouldn’t expect anything else from her other than planting a child in her
womb and giving me the key to my future. Once that was accomplished,
well, there wasn’t much else I would need her for.

A rousing cheer of “GORKA!” rose up from the crowd. The traditional

wedding toast. Gorka, I thought. Bitterness. For vodka is bitter, and
marriage is sweet. But the only sweetness I wanted on my tongue was what
was between Sveta’s legs.

Straightening, I drained my vodka in one gulp and sat myself beside my

bride. There was a load off my shoulders at what I had accomplished
tonight and what part of my plan was now accomplished.

I was going to enjoy the next part, which would be to get Sveta pregnant as
soon as possible. There was still the threat that she could be taken away.

But if she was carrying my child, then it would be nearly impossible to

deny that I had a right to take over what was her birthright.

A smirk crossed my face as I picked up the vodka bottle and poured a

measure full in the glass that sat by my plate. It was time to celebrate, time
to toast what I had completed when others said that I couldn’t.

I had done this, not anyone else.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 8
Naomi

I pushed the food around on my plate, unable to eat another bite of the rich
meal without throwing it back up. I thought that the wedding would be the
most nerve-wracking part of today, but sitting beside my “husband” and
watching him proceed to get drunk was perhaps worse.

It wasn’t because he was drunk. No, I was kind of hoping that he would
have too much to drink and would delay the whole consummation for at
least one night so I could figure out how I was going to explain to him that I
wasn’t a virgin.

It was the fact that he could be violent. I had seen it before, and with the
amount of alcohol he was consuming, there was no doubt that he wasn’t
going to be the man I had wed today.

Not that I knew him at all.

Gavril Kirilenko was a man shrouded in brutality, but also there was a
measure of intrigue I was finding with him. It had all started with the
moment yesterday where he thought it was better for me to suck his cock as
an apology than to do anything else. What kind of power trip did that give
him?

What sort of man didn’t give a shit about who was around to just do that?

I didn’t find him as forthcoming or as easily read either. Gavril was clearly
a man who liked to be in control at all times, given that he had mentioned it
to me repeatedly throughout our reception alone. He wanted Sveta’s
devotion to him. He wanted her to know that there would be no one else.

Had that happened to him before?

Rubbing my forehead, I pushed my plate away and reached for my wine,

taking a small sip. I wasn’t a wine drinker much, but if ever I needed liquid
courage, I needed it now.
Gavril stood suddenly, holding up his hands and quieting the people that
were left. I was amazed at how he could do that so effortlessly, how he
commanded a room in ways I hadn’t even seen Roman do before.
“Friends,” he announced, his voice booming over the outdoor space. “It’s
time for you to leave, and time for me to take my bride upstairs.”

A lump appeared in my throat as, nearly immediately, people started to

gather their things, the scrape of chairs across the flagstone surface filling
the air. No one looked my way as they filed out either and once the last
person had rounded the corner, Gavril reached out with his hand. “Come,
Sveta,” he said, his eyes bright and face flushed from the alcohol he had
consumed. “It’s time.”

I wanted to balk at his hand, to refuse to take it, but with him the way he
was, I was scared, no, terrified, of what he might do next.

So, I took his hand, allowing him to help me up.

“Her room is ready,” Vera stated, appearing out of nowhere. “I can help her
tonight.”

“No,” Gavril barked, pulling me to his side, his strong body leaning on me.
“She is my wife. She will spend the night in my rooms.”

Vera’s eyes widened. Clearly that wasn’t something that happened very
often. What did he have in his rooms?

A wall of weapons?

A torture rack?

Dead bodies?

A bubble of laughter nearly escaped me, and I had to swallow hard to keep
it from coming up to the surface. Whatever Gavril was hiding in there, I
was about to find out.
“Yes, master,” she answered, lowering her head. Gavril didn’t acknowledge
her as we strolled past, his pace clipped and hurried. I wanted to tell him to
slow down, but I knew he wouldn’t listen, and my heart hammered against
my chest wall at what awaited me tonight.

We took a hard right once inside the house, bypassing the stairs and moving
to the back side of the house, where a door sat closed. Gavril released my
hand long enough to touch his watch to the lock on the outside and I heard
the door pop open, only furthering my curiosity.

Good God, what did he have in there that needed to be locked up?

The lights came on the moment we stepped over the threshold, and I found
myself in the midst of a small sitting area with dark leather furniture and a
large TV over an unlit fireplace.

Gavril’s private domain.

I turned to find him shutting the door with a solid click, his hands already
ripping at his jacket. “Take it off,” he growled as he threw the tuxedo jacket
on the floor, loosening a few buttons on his shirt.

My hands shook as I reached for the veil, dislodging it from my hair and
placing it on the chair to my right. Next I stepped out of my shoes, the
wood floor cold under my feet. I didn’t dare look at Gavril as I reached for
the zipper on the dress, letting the silken material puddle at my feet until I
stood there in my strapless bra and silk panties.

Goose bumps danced across my skin, but it was nothing compared to the
vise on my lungs, finding it difficult to breathe properly.

“Stop,” Gavril commanded.

I let my hands fall to my sides, forcing myself to look up at him. “Who do

you belong to?” he asked, his voice deadly calm.
“Y-you,” I forced out in Russian, my tongue thick in my mouth.

No change in his expression. “What purpose do you serve being here?”

“I—” I started, my mind racing with what he would want to hear. What
purpose did I serve to him? I knew he probably wasn’t looking for a partner
to share in his power, his position.

Was he just looking for a woman to warm his bed or something else? “You
want my father’s Bratva,” I finally said. “Having me gets you that.”

Gavril smirked. “Lovely Sveta,” he said in a slow, velvety breath, the sound
coating my skin like a silken caress. “I want so much more than that.
Having you doesn’t give me what I want.”

He took a step closer to me, and I fought the urge to back away. He moved
like an animal stalking his prey, measured and in control even though he
had consumed an exorbitant amount of alcohol.

“What I want is a child,” he finally said, his eyes flickering to my stomach.

“A child with both bloodlines.”

Oh shit. Realization dawned on me at what he was playing, what he was

trying to claim. It wasn’t Sveta; it was the generations he wanted to have.

“With you carrying the heir to the Krasnaya Bratva,” he continued, heedless
of my internal panic. “Then your father’s men, your men, will come to me
willingly.”

So, I was nothing more than a vessel for his future. No, Sveta was that
vessel, and I didn’t have a lick of her blood coursing through my veins.

When Gavril grabbed my arm, I didn’t fight him, my thoughts scattering as

to what to tell him about who he truly had forced into marriage. He was
going to kill me.
He moved into the next room and before I had time to react, he threw me
onto the biggest bed I had seen, the comforter already pulled back to reveal
black sheets ready for us to dirty up.

I tried to scramble away, but Gavril grasped my knees and forced my legs
apart, his hand reaching in to tear the scrap of lace I had put on this morning
and cast it aside. My entire body went still, and I forgot to breathe as he
stared at me, his gaze feral.

“Mine,” he hissed as his hand crudely slipped up my leg and touched me.

Heaven help me, I was already wet for him, the anticipation building inside
at what he might do. I had experienced rough sex before, but the way he
was looking at me, I felt like he could devour me. His fingers probed my
slick entrance before roughly shoving inside, causing me to cry out at the
intrusion. I knew what he was after, what he thought he would find, and
when he didn’t, confusion dawned on his face.

“What the fuck?” I heard him mutter, pulling his fingers out of me, coated
with my wetness.

But not blood like he expected to find.

For a split second, I thought about lying to him again, telling him that I had
broken my hymen riding a bike or something like that. Then again, at some
point, I would have to come clean.

“I’m not Sveta,” I blurted out in English, catching his angered gaze.

“What?” he barked out in perfect English himself, his hand clenching my

inner thigh. There was still a thick burr of Russian in his accent, making
him sound unbelievably sexy even though he was royally pissed off now.
“What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m not Sveta,” I tried again, wetting my dry lips with my tongue. “I’m
Naomi Spencer. I was used to bait Stanislav into thinking that his daughter
was still alive, but she was killed.” The words just came tumbling out, and I
watched as Gavril’s face grew redder by the second. He had been duped,
but in all fairness, I hadn’t asked to be kidnapped.

His jaw clenched. “Who else knows about this?”

Every word came out in biting fashion, but I refused to cringe. I had dealt
with worse in my lifetime. “Roman Marchetti and his wife. Everyone else is
dead.”

Gavril backed away then, shoving a hand through his hair. This wasn’t what
he had planned for tonight, I was sure of it. “That fucking bastard!” he
shouted.

I did cringe then. After all, I was the only one in the room that he could take
his anger out on, and there was no doubt that he was pissed off, the veins
bulging out of the side of his neck, his face red with anger.

I was going to die in this bed tonight.

But then he looked down at me, still half naked on his bed. “It doesn’t
matter,” he said as he reached for his trousers. My mouth went dry as his
heavy cock sprang forth once more and he grabbed my ankles, dragging me
to the edge of the bed.

“W-what?” I gasped as he slid between my thighs, his cock probing at my

entrance. He didn’t care about who I was?

Gavril leaned down. “Tell me who you are,” he said, coating the tip of his
cock with my wetness.

“Naomi,” I forced out, every thought scattering from my mind.

My husband gripped my face with his rough fingers. “Wrong. Tell me who
you are.”

I let out a whimper as he slowly thrust between my legs, the tip of his cock
feathering my swollen clit. My body betrayed me, arching up to take him
closer still. I couldn’t think. Gavril was filling every sense with his smell
and his touch.

“My name is Sveta,” I finally let out in Russian. “Sveta.”

He pushed hard, and I screamed as he filled me to the core in one swoop. I

panted as my body adjusted. I felt every inch of his swollen cock inside of
me as he started to move. I wanted to push him out of me, to give myself a
minute, but a small piece of me wanted to pull him even deeper until I
couldn’t breathe right.

When he pulled back, I whimpered, my hands reaching out blindly to grab

something, anything to ground myself on this bed, in this moment. What I
found was the comforter, just in time to clench my hands in its softness
before Gavril pounded into me again

Being filled by Gavril…I had never felt so complete. This was everything I
wanted when he had face-fucked me in front of Vera. To give in to his
power. To let him take control. To not know where I ended and where he
began.

His pace became relentless, his fingers digging into my hips as he urged me
higher. “Tell me your name,” he growled.

“Sveta,” I panted, feeling the pressure build. His hips ground into mine,
sending waves of pleasure against my clit. A whimper escaped my lips as I
clung on helplessly as he used me. With every thrust, I felt the pressure
build deep inside of me. A whimper. Then a moan. And slowly, I felt
myself losing control.

His thrusts grew more forceful, and he pushed as deep as he could inside of
me.

“Sveta,” he snarled, his cock pumping like a piston. “My Sveta.”

I knew why it meant so much to him, but it wasn’t going to change the
ending. I wouldn’t be giving him what he wanted, and the thought terrified
me. My legs started shaking. My eyes blurred as tears clouded my vision.
But whether from pleasure or pain, I could no longer tell.

“Please…” I begged. But I didn’t know what I was begging for anymore.
Part of me wanted him to stop, and another part wanted him to keep going.
The warmth in the pit of my stomach returned and I clung to it, knowing
that there was nothing else I could do.

I reached up to touch him, but his rough hands pinned mine down into the
bed above my head. His face hung above me. I was reaching closer and
closer to my peak.

The first twitch came almost unbidden, and then came another. And
another. Faster. Faster. Until suddenly I found myself arching into his hard
body. An intense heat radiated from deep within and traveled from the tips
of my fingers to the roots of my hair. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I
could barely even see. All I could do was instinctively wrap my legs around
him as he continued to use me.

“Please,” I begged again. I clenched around him. Even with his brutality, I
still had managed to find my own release.

“Fuck!” he shouted. Not even a second later, Gavril let go himself. I felt his
cock swelling inside of me, and a warm sensation flooded my depths. For a
moment, I couldn’t process what was going on as he continued thrusting,
pushing his seed deeper inside.

He knew the truth, but he still had sex with me and came inside me. It
doesn’t make any sense.

Then a realization hit. He could still be getting ready to kill me. He had no
use for me, and me pretending that I was Sveta wasn’t going to give him his
ultimate goal.

Panic set in as he pulled out, his cock shiny from my own release, and I
watched as he tucked it back in to his trousers, his movements angry and
jerky. He was pissed off.
When he was done, his glare found me.

“Not a word to anyone,” he growled. “Or I will slit your throat.”

I gave him a short nod, letting him know I had gotten the message. I wasn’t
about to betray anything right now if it meant that I could remain alive.

He didn’t respond but walked away, leaving me in the bedroom, and a

moment later, I heard the door slam shut.

He had left me in his domain. I was still alive.

For a moment I lay there, staring up at the ceiling in silent horror and shock.
I had told Gavril the truth about who I was.

He now knew I wasn’t the woman he needed, the plan he had apparently
constructed to take control of Sveta Orlov and what her father had
maintained in his lifetime. He wanted a child, the one thing that no one
could turn their back on when it came time for him to take over Stanislav’s
Bratva.

I had never been in a position that could truly cost me my life, with a man
who was my husband but wasn’t.

For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know
how to go about ensuring my life or what would happen to me in the next
hour.

I drew wrapped my arms around my legs and curled up on the bed. My

breath quickened as the familiar warmth faded like it had yesterday,
replaced with the other familiar feeling.

Again and again, our vows echoed in my head, and all I could think was of
how Gavril had broken almost every single one:
Did I come here freely and without reservation to give myself to him? No. I
had been forced to marry the devil against my will.

Would he honor me as my husband for the rest of my life? No, he had

defiled me and nearly broken me in his bed.

Slowly, my trembling hand reached down to my sore pussy, and I winced.

There’s one vow he kept. And at the thought of our final vow, I felt a sting in
my nose.

Tears came, transformed into sobs, and refused to stop until I was crying on
my marriage bed as my husband’s seed slowly oozed out of me.

As I cried, a part of me wondered if Gavril could hear me on the other side

of the door.

A part of me wondered if he cared.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 9
Gavril

I looked out over the twinkling lights of LA, a task that usually soothed me,
but this time it only pissed me off.

How could I have screwed this plan up so fucking badly?

Taking a long draw of my vodka, I let the fiery liquid burn a path to my
stomach, not caring that I had consumed far too much alcohol tonight.
Normally I didn’t like to. I was a man who liked to keep his head clear and
his thoughts direct. I hated men who got drunk, knowing that they could
make a mistake that could cost them their lives.

Tonight, though, I drank for the sheer fact that I had accomplished all that I
had set out to do, as well as to quench some of my need for my wife. All it
had done was get me to a place that her scent, her looks had driven me
nearly insane, and by the time I had gotten her into my room, all I wanted to
do was sink myself into her virginal canal.

A short laugh escaped me. Well, the fucking joke was on me. There was
nothing virginal about Sveta.

No, that wasn’t Sveta. All the concerns, all the questions I had in my mind
from the first time we had met now made sense. The woman lying in my
bed wasn’t Stanislav’s daughter. She was a consummate actress, one that
spoke fluent Russian and did bear a resemblance to the deceased.

Another swallow of my whiskey didn’t make me feel any better, and I

hurled the glass toward the distant lights, satisfied when I heard the glass
shatter somewhere in the dark. I was surprised that she had come clean so
quickly, likely not sure how to handle the fact that I could tell she wasn’t a
virgin. Truth be told, she could have lied to me, told me any story about
how she lost it, and I would have likely believed her.

Naomi Spencer. The name didn’t ring a bell, but it wasn’t her name any
longer. I couldn’t very well come out and tell everyone I had been duped,
that Sveta was dead and gone. If I did so, then the Krasnaya Bratva would
turn their backs on me, and I would be looking at a war.

They believed she was Sveta, and that was all that mattered. Naomi Spencer
would play that part, whether she fucking liked it or not.

“Fuck me,” I muttered, all my earlier elation now just a stupid dream. I felt
like a fucking fool for thinking that it would be this easy to take over
Stanislav’s Bratva. I didn’t blame Anatoly, of course. He couldn’t have
known that it wasn’t Sveta. That had been the last place we had tracked her
to, and hell, she did look a lot like her.

I envisioned her gleaming pussy, the way she had haltingly looked at me
with lust in her eyes, and my cock twitched to life. Fuck. At least she would
be a good fuck if nothing more. I could only imagine what she could do if I
took my time, bringing her to the pinnacle of her orgasm before letting her
down and making her beg for me to do it again.

I would get something out of this marriage, and it would be Naomi

warming my bed.

And I was going to follow through with my other plans as well. No one
knew save Marchetti that she wasn’t Sveta, so there was no harm in
continuing the ruse of implanting a child in her womb and parading her
around in front of her loyal Bratva. That was what they wished to see, and I
was going to give it to them.

Once the baby was born, I would claim it as my own and get rid of my fake
wife. It hadn’t been the plan before, but now that she held the secrets that
could bring my plan down around my ears, I would have to dispose of her.

Until then, I would enjoy Naomi in my bed.

At least she wasn’t without fight. I remembered being shocked at how she
seemed to be so defiant at first, how she’d tried to kill me yesterday when I
gave her the opportunity. Now all the pieces were falling into place as to
why she really would want to see me dead, and perhaps I should have killed
her when I had the chance. Sveta would have probably been meek, scared,
willing to do whatever it took to make me happy, and I would have been
fucking bored with her.

Hell, probably even the sex would have been boring, almost like a chore.
Even though my plans were going down a different path, I couldn’t help but
think that this was going to work out to my advantage. I would have a
woman at my side who had a strong will, a woman whose genes, the fight
in them, would pass on to our child.

Perhaps it wasn’t all that bad after all.

“Master.”

I turned to find Vera standing in the doorway of the terrace, her thin body
framed by the low light within the house. “Vera, you should be in bed.”

She walked out to where I was standing, wringing her hands, and I hid my
sigh. While Vera was loyal, I swore that God had put her in my path to
damn my soul at every turn.

“Your bride,” she started, catching my attention. “She is crying.”

“She’s crying because she’s young and not used to the rough sex,” I lied
smoothly, slicing my hands through my hair. “She will get used to it.”

Vera arched a brow, clearly displeased with my answer. “I found her in the
hallway, unable to find her room. She seemed hurt.”

A moment of panic sliced through me, but I pushed it aside. While I had
been rough with Naomi, it clearly wasn’t her first time, and I doubted that
any part of her was truly hurt.

Perhaps a bit stunned. Frowning at my sudden change of thoughts, I cleared

my throat. I didn’t give a shit whether she was crying or not. She had lied to
me, pretended to be someone she wasn’t, and now she had nearly fucked up
my plans.
She was lucky that I hadn’t done anything worse to her. “She will be fine,” I
reiterated. “But I’m certain you will mother her to death and make it all
better for her.” While Vera wasn’t the soft type, she sure hovered enough as
it was.

Vera’s lips twisted, and it was evident that she didn’t like my answer. “A
crying wife is no good, master.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at her. “And why is that?”

“A crying wife is unhappy,” she replied evenly. There was no tremor in her
voice as she bluntly told me what I had done wrong, and I knew I wouldn’t
see very much by way of emotion in Vera. Unlike the others, I had never
seen Vera afraid of me before, no matter how pissed off I was. There were
rumors that she had been brought up in a Russian military household, but I
hadn’t confirmed that fact. “An unhappy wife will become an unfaithful
wife.”

Unfaithful.

That was laughable at this point now. Hell, I thought I was marrying a
moldable, inexperienced wife, but now I had clearly an experienced woman
in my home. A woman I didn’t even know anything about but would find
out everything about before the sun rose on another day.

“And an unfaithful wife is a dangerous wife,” she added in a low voice. “A

wife who is willing to do whatever it takes to get out of a marriage she is
unhappy in. She will trade your secrets with your enemies, find ways to rid
herself of you, and then where will you be, master? You will be in danger.”

I rubbed my chin with my hand, thinking of her words. I hadn’t thought

about that before, but she was right. Any person, and not just a woman,
would try to find a way out, and naturally they would move toward the
enemy. Knowing who Naomi was now posed a huge threat to my plans, and
if she told anyone else, I would lose everything, even my life.
“Love her,” Vera urged. “Do not give her a reason to stray.”

I snorted. Love her? I had no interest in the word. Love was a weakness.
Love didn’t exist in realms like mine. “You are a fool, woman.”

“You don’t understand,” Vera explained, coming to stand next to me,

looking out over the night as I was before she interrupted me. “She needs to
feel as if she is cared for, or she will start looking elsewhere for that feeling.
If you wish to keep her as your own, then you need to show a measure of
care for Sveta.”

Rage flared in my chest again. That wasn’t Sveta, but Vera didn’t know
that, and I wanted to ensure that she continued to not know. I had to keep
the secret close to myself so that the chances of it being leaked were only to
a few select group of people.

Word was going to get out that I had married Sveta as it was already being
circulated through our channels. That had been part of my plan, to put the
rest of the Bratvas on notice that I was making a claim to the defunct
Krasnaya Bratva.

Now there was a concern that once Marchetti found out, he would know
that the claim was false. But if I could trap Naomi into marriage with a kid,
then I wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Withholding a child from his
or her mother was enough to keep a woman in line. “I’m not worried,” I
told her. “But I will take your suggestions under advisement.”

Vera dipped her head. “Thank you, master. That is all I ask.”

I didn’t respond as she walked away and disappeared back into the house.
One thing that Vera did state truthfully was that Naomi could be used
against me as a weapon. She could be taken by my enemies and held so that
I would comply with whatever demand came about. Any boss that decided
to marry and carry on his bloodline ran that risk. When Naomi became
pregnant with my heir, she would be at a higher risk of being taken.

Sveta or not, she had taken a great risk in becoming my wife.

Letting out a slow breath, I ran a hand through my hair. Fuck. I was
married. It was still hard to believe, especially after I had sworn off tying
myself to any woman for the foreseeable future. Of course, having the
opportunity to wed Sveta had been an option that I couldn’t turn away.

Now look where it had gotten me, a cruel twist of fate that had fucking
backfired in my face.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the house. I would have to figure out
how to live with a woman that wasn’t the woman I wanted to be with, to
continue to hide her identity from everyone so that I wouldn’t lose
everything I had planned.

Vera wanted me to love Naomi, a very dangerous woman not only to my

livelihood but to everything I wanted to achieve.

It wouldn’t have been the first time that I had loved a dangerous woman and
nearly lost everything.

With a growl, I stalked back into the house and to my suite, finding the
rooms empty. The only proof that Naomi had been there was the mussed
comforter on my bed and the faint scent of vanilla in the air. I didn’t know
now how I ever thought that she was Sveta. All the signs pointed to
something being wrong with Sveta, and now that I knew the truth, all the
pieces fell into place.

Now I had to deal with my own fucking consequences.

Later that night, after I couldn’t go to sleep, I looked up Naomi, finding a

long list of social media posts and even her blog. Every moment of her life,
she had documented, clearly one of those up-and-coming influencers that
LA thrived on. I flipped through her pictures, finding a smiling woman in
various establishments around the city, some with her arms around famous
shoulders that resided in LA.
What I didn’t see was the same person twice, either male or female. It was
apparently clear that she didn’t have a large group of friends, which boded
well for me. No one would be looking for her, expecting her to be
somewhere she wasn’t. Sure, people would wonder why her social media
channels had gone dark suddenly, but if it was anything like the rest of LA,
they would chalk her up as a passing fancy and move on to someone else.

Sitting back in my chair, I stared at the screen, contemplating my next steps.

I couldn’t just ignore her now. Nor could I hope that I had knocked her up
with our tryst tonight, completing my mission.

I also needed to remind myself that Naomi Spencer didn’t exist in my

world. She was Sveta, Sveta Kirilenko, wife to the most powerful man in
LA, and anytime we were out in public or around my staff, I would call her
that.

I shut down my computer and climbed into my bed, staring up at the

ceiling. I had a fucking wife. I could go to her room right now and fuck her
senseless or until I fell asleep, and no one would care. I could do anything I
wanted to, and she would have to comply with my every wish. The very
thought had me reaching for my cock, finding it hard and ready for another
round.

Gripping it lightly, I stroked the soft flesh. I wouldn’t go back to her

tonight. I would let Naomi get used to her new role and the shit storm she
had caused for me before I would visit her again, ensuring that she knew
what her role was and what my plans entailed. I did plan to get her
pregnant, not as Naomi but as Sveta.

The familiar pull on my groin started to build and I groaned, my hand

moving faster now. I hadn’t been this hard or had this much need in a long
time, longer than I cared to admit. My dalliances were few and far between,
but none had put me in this situation before.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I felt the pressure build, smearing the pre-cum on

the head as I moved my hand over it. When my orgasm did hit, it came with
a vengeance, spurting out all over my hand and onto the comforter.
If this was any indication of what was to come, I was going to like this
marriage business.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 10
Naomi

I woke to the sunlight streaming through the balcony doors, my head fuzzy
and my body sore in places that hadn’t been that way in a long time.
Wincing, I pulled myself up to a seated position, rubbing my head lightly.
My eyes felt gritty from the tears I had shed until I fell asleep, disbelieving
of what I had gotten myself into.

I really should have tried to stop it when I had the chance. It was one thing
for me to marry Gavril and become his wife.

It was completely another situation for me to marry him and give him a
child that was meant to carry Sveta’s bloodline. That was something I
couldn’t do, no matter what anyone thought.

Sighing, I threw back the covers and took care of my bathroom needs
before staring at myself in the mirror.

I saw a familiar broken woman who barely knew herself years ago staring
back, before Ilsa saved me and pulled me back together.

Well, that and a lot of therapy. A bubble of laughter escaped me as I thought

about my therapist. Not even she could help me with this mess.

Walking back into the bedroom, I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was
only a little after six in the morning. I doubted that Vera served breakfast
this early, nor was I brave enough to walk out of this bedroom by myself
and run the risk of running into my husband.

Well, Sveta’s husband. I didn’t know if Gavril realized it or not, but we

weren’t really married. While I knew I served a purpose for him right now,
the name that had dried on the marriage certificate was Sveta’s, not mine.
Everything was a sham.

Just because I needed to know, I tried the doorknob and found it locked
again. It seemed that even being Gavril’s wife didn’t allow me the liberties
that it should.

The balcony doors, however, were unlocked, and I wandered out into the
early morning sunshine, letting it warm my face and arms. The view was
just as spectacular as I remembered it, with a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean
in the far distance. This was mine.

Well, I had a claim to it at least. I doubted anything was mine, really. Not
the clothes or even the ring on my finger.

I had lost all ownership to my body and my freedom by marrying Gavril.

A sigh escaped me as I wrapped my arms around my waist, staring out into

the distance. It wasn’t the first time I had thought I lost my freedom, or my
sanity for that matter.

I shivered as I lay on the ground, the pavement biting into my cheek.

But I didn’t dare move. If I moved, they might think I was still awake and
come back to do the things that they had crudely whispered to me when they
had picked me up and put me here, telling me that they were going to come
back and really give me a good time.

Not that I could move. I was almost certain that I had been drugged
somehow, my head fuzzy and my limbs feeling as if I was moving through
water. I wanted to cry out, to call for help, but my tongue was thick in my
mouth, not able to form the words I needed.

One of them leaned down, his breath foul with the beer he was drinking.
“God, you are fucking gorgeous,” he said, his hand wandering over my hip
before squeezing my ass hard. “I bet you suck cock real well with those lips
of yours.”

“She would have to find yours!” another called out, the laughter filling the
air a second later.
“Maybe she should warm up on the trainer!” a third voice said, laughing.
“Because we all know that you are hiding a worm in your fucking pants!”

The guy before me disappeared, and I heard a scuffle in the background,

followed by laughter and the sound of breaking glass. I knew I was in some
sort of parking lot, but everything else was fuzzy, including my vision and
the way that I processed anything.

I was terrified. Going to that party off campus tonight had been a mistake, a
big one, one that could cost me my life. I didn’t know who or how many
guys were behind me, but I know they didn’t just intend on teasing me then
letting me go.

They were going to rape me.

A shudder coursed through my body, and tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want
to be here. I didn’t want to go through whatever they had planned for me. I
wasn’t that kind of girl. Sure, I dressed confidently and flirted a little, but
what girl didn’t in college?

I felt, well, helpless, unable to do anything other than lie on the ground and
wait for whatever fate was going to happen.

I shook out of the memory to the sound of someone walking into my

bedroom. Maybe I was wrong, and Vera was an early riser with breakfast.

But as I moved into the room, I drew up short as I saw my husband standing
there, impeccably dressed in a suit that conformed to his muscular body.
“Good morning.”

I kept my arms wrapped around my waist. “Good morning.”

“I’m going to work,” he said, clasping his hands before him. “And will be
gone all day, but I will be home tonight.”

I really didn’t know why he was telling me this or what I was supposed to
do with myself in the meantime. A part of me wanted to ask him to take me
with him, just so I wouldn’t be trapped in this room alone all day. “Okay.”

“You have free rein of the house,” he continued. “With the exception of my
suite. Vera is at your beck and call, as well as the rest of my staff, but I will
tell you that you need to be Sveta, not Naomi. That is who they think you
are.”

His words irked me. No mention of what happened between us last night, or
how he had left me sobbing in his suite, scared that I was looking at the rest
of my life with this brutal man. He hadn’t been abusive, but just, well,
indifferent to my reactions, to my needs.

God help Sveta if she had really been alive. I was almost certain that she
would have been terrified of what happened last night. I was glad that I
could take her place for that reason alone. Gavril was clearly a man who
liked to be in control and that included the bedroom.

How was I going to live the rest of my life like this?

“Do you understand?”

Gavril’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I realized he was

watching me carefully, his expression devoid of emotion. “I understand,” I
stated, knowing I had no other option. If I told anyone who I truly was, then
I would be in serious danger for ruining his plans.

He gave me a single nod. “Good. If you do what I say, we will have no

concerns between us, Sveta.”

No concerns? I had a lot of concerns, mainly how he was planning to

continue to pull this off.

And what happened to me when the truth was finally brought to light. What
would happen if we went out and someone saw me, recognized me for who
I was and not as the part I was playing? What would Gavril do then? How
would we get past that?
He turned to go, and I sucked in a breath. “Wait.”

Gavril stopped and looked at me. “Yes?”

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked. “I mean, as your wife.” I wasn’t

someone who liked to be idle. I was always doing something, whether it
was entertaining my social media followers or going to interviews.

Surely there was something as his “wife” that I would be required to do.

“Obey me,” he finally said, turning and walking out without another word.

Dumbly, I stared at the open door, realizing he hadn’t closed it behind him.
Obey him? That wasn’t what I was talking about!

“Crap,” I muttered, tears crowding my eyes before I blinked them away. So,
he didn’t expect me to do anything right now, but what would happen when
he came back and resumed his husbandly duties?

My body heated at the thought, and I pressed my hands to my cheeks. I

wasn’t going to deny it. Even though the sex had been pretty much one
sided, it had been good, and I had been horribly turned on by it. His
roughness, the way he had commanded my body and not allowed me a
moment to think, to breathe; that was new to me.

And not completely terrifying.

Groaning, I dropped my hands and walked back into the bathroom, turning
on the shower. There was something wrong with me. There had to be. I
couldn’t hate and want the man at the same time.

Could I?

I thought back to what Ilsa had told me when she started really liking
Roman, how his abruptness and overall terrifying nature had only made her
want him more. God, how I wished that I could talk to her now! She would
never believe what I had gotten myself into, likely would want to try to get
me out of it with Roman’s help.

I didn’t think that Roman and Gavril were friends.

If she could endure everything that she had gone through, then I could ride
this out myself until I could find a way out. This marriage wasn’t meant to
be, and I was only on day one.

The steam started to fog up the bathroom, so I stripped off my clothing and
stepped under the spray. Until I could find a way out of this mess, I was
going to have to do my best to survive whatever Gavril threw at me. I
would have to dig deep down and hide the feelings of the past so that I
could focus on surviving.

That was what I was: a survivor.

I was going to find a way to get through this with my sanity and my body
intact.

In some ways, I was glad that Gavril knew who I was now. I no longer had
to pretend with him. He was about to find out who Naomi Spencer truly
was and that I wasn’t a girl who just laid down and took it.

He was going to rue the day that he took me.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 11
Ilsa

“Ugh. Who would have ever thought it would be this hard to get out of
bed?”

My husband Roman slid his arm around my expanding waist and pulled me
flush to his hard body, pressing his lips against my shoulder. “Who said you
had to get out of this bed?”

I sighed happily, interlacing our fingers together. “I mean, I have to get out
of the bed. The designer is coming for the baby’s room in like an hour.”

His chuckle stirred the hair around my ear. “You can always tell him to fuck
off.”

I turned in his arms, gazing at his handsome face. “No! Do you not realize
how hard it was to get an appointment with him? He’s the premier designer
on the island.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled with laughter as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

“Fine, but you could just stay in bed with your obscenely gorgeous husband
instead of some stuffy designer. Just think of the things I could do to you.”

My toes curled, my entire body flushing at the thought of what Roman did
to me, and against my better judgment I rolled out of bed, my feet touching
the floor. He stretched his hands behind his head, and I whimpered inwardly
at the sight of his well-formed chest, the way the sheet rode low on his hips.
God, one tug and I would be feasting my eyes on his.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled softly. “Or I will be pulling you
back into this fucking bed, Ilsa.”

“Fine,” I sighed, reaching for my phone.

Still no response. I checked to make sure I had service before replacing the
phone back on the nightstand. “She still hasn’t called me back.”
“I’m sure she’s busy,” Roman responded, looking over at me. “It’s only
been four days, Ilsa.”

But it wasn’t like Naomi not to at least drop me a response. We had been
friends for a number of years, and she knew that I worried about her. “I
don’t know.”

“Stop worrying yourself,” Roman interrupted, his gaze narrowing. “It’s not
good for the baby.”

“You’re right,” I answered, though there was still the nagging voice in the
back of my mind that this wasn’t like her. She had only gone dark once, and
by the time I had found her, well, it hadn’t been good. Thinking back to
when she left the island, I tried to find something, anything that told me that
she wasn’t happy and found none. “Maybe I should get someone to swing
by her apartment and make sure she’s okay.”

Roman pushed himself to a seated position, his muscles rippling with the
movement. “What you should do, wife, is put your clothes on, or I’m going
to drag you back into this bed.”

I smirked, seeing the challenge in his eyes. Would there ever be a time I
regretted marrying him?

No, I didn’t think so. “All right, I’ll go get ready.”

But as I walked to the bathroom, I couldn’t push aside the worry I felt in my
gut. Naomi had been through a lot in her lifetime, but she had always been
there when I needed her. Maybe Roman was right. Maybe she had thrown
herself into her work and was just busy right now or had lost her phone and
would text me the moment she got a new one. It wasn’t unheard of.

I just, well, I didn’t want her to think that I was going to push her aside now
that I had this wonderful life with Roman and our child on the way.

Tomorrow, I told myself as I turned on the shower.

Tomorrow I would have Roman send someone over to her apartment and
just make sure the building wasn’t on fire or something.

Naomi was fine. I was freaking out over nothing.

I had to be.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 12
Naomi
Three weeks later.

I clung to Gavril’s muscular back—not daring to look up at his face—as he

drilled into me. I knew what I would find if I did: a man whose expression
remained stone cold, with jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the painting
above the bed as he silently used me.

For the last three weeks, this had been our routine.

Sometimes, he took me against the wall or bent over the chair in the corner.
I think the only place he hadn’t fucked me was in the shower. But it was
probably only a matter of time before he did.

I felt a slight tremor go through his body and knew he was close. Sure
enough, a few seconds later, Gavril groaned and I felt a familiar wet warmth
flood inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut as he emptied himself to the last
drop. Soon he would leave, having accomplished what he had come into my
room to do.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy it. Gavril was a skilled lover, probably one of
the best I had ever had. He knew how to hit the right spots. He knew how to
make my body respond.

But this was just sex, not lovemaking. There was no foreplay, no giggling in
the dark, and whispered words of what he wanted me to do.

Not that I needed it. He could literally walk into the room, and I would
grow wet with anticipation.

He’d trained me like a man would train a dog.

“You could never be Sveta,” he growled as he rolled off me, sitting on the
side of the bed. “She would never have taken to sex with me like you have.”
And the snide comments. Always there’d be snide comments as he finished.
I steeled myself against the sharp barb, not allowing it to take hold in my
heart or my soul. Gavril loved to throw out some sort of parting comment
before he left, to remind me of what I had gotten him into and the
ramifications of my decisions.

I felt his weight shift off the bed and opened my eyes, heart speeding up just
a tad as his glorious ass sashayed across the room toward the bathroom.
Unwittingly, I bit my lower lip as I focused on his sculpted muscles shifting
with each step.

A part of me wanted to bound after him, to touch every part of his body and
see if I could find some sort of softness in Gavril. And another part
desperately wanted him to do the same to me.

To touch me like he cared for me.

To touch me like his wife, and not just a set of holes.

I watched him until he disappeared before I pulled the sheet over my naked
form before the goose bumps came.

I only saw him at night, no matter the hour. On some nights, I wanted to
wait on him in the foyer like a good little wife would, but I never did.
Instead, every night, I would wait in my bedroom until he opened the door
and spread my legs open.

Sometimes he wanted it slow, almost like a strip tease. He’d sit in that chair
in the corner, a drink in his hand and those hard eyes, watching me slowly
peel away my clothing. Then he’d stand and order me to get in position.

Other times he would rip my clothes off my body, fling onto the floor the
expensive dress or lingerie I had donned, and fuck me until I was limp to
his touch.

There wasn’t one way I preferred over the other.

I also didn’t know where my life was going or why. I knew what Gavril
wanted. He wanted to get me pregnant, but why? I wasn’t Sveta. What if
someone got smart and demanded some sort of paternity test on our future
child?

Then they would know, and all of this would have been for naught.

I wondered if Gavril was just trying to save face at this point, to not have to
turn around and tell everyone he had been fooled all along.

Sighing, I tucked the sheet around myself as I felt the familiar sensation of
Gavril’s semen slowly oozing out of me while his scent lingered in my
nose.

I stared at the perfect room that had become my prison and wondered. How
much longer would I be trapped here? Was Gavril ever going to let me out
of this ivory tower, or was he going to wait until I was fat and pregnant so
that he could show me around to his enemies, show that he had put his baby
inside of Sveta Orlov?

The door to the bathroom opened, and I pushed aside any sort of thoughts
as Gavril came out, walking over to grab his pants from the floor.

“Have you eaten?” he asked brusquely.

“I have,” I said. “Have you?”

Gavril ignored me and shoved his legs into his pants. “Are you afraid of
me, Sveta?”

Not Naomi. It was never Naomi to him, and that was what hurt the most.

I wanted Gavril to see me as a person. I wanted him to see me as me. Not

the person he was forcing me to become. I was an actress stuck in the
absolute worst role of my life.
“No,” I forced out, realizing that he was still waiting for me to answer. I
straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. “I’m not afraid of you.”

There was the merest hint of a smile on his gorgeous face before it
disappeared and he grabbed his shirt. “One day you will be.”

I didn’t answer as he walked out of my bedroom and closed the door behind
him. Only then did I draw in a breath.

I didn’t like that he was probably right. One day I would be scared of him,
but it wasn’t going to be today.

Yawning, I threw aside the sheet that smelled faintly of Gavril and sex and
walked naked to the bathroom. The tiles in the shower were still slick and
warm. I closed my eyes under the hot water. Another night of sex that
would just repeat itself tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.

Maybe this was more than just a job. Maybe this was like one of those
endless loops that never stopped, and all I was going to do was be used until
I served my purpose.

And once I gave him what he wanted, what would happen to me?

***

The next day, I walked down the stairs to the first floor of the mansion. I
was tired of staying in my bedroom. The door wasn’t locked, so Gavril
wasn’t expecting me to stay inside forever.

Or maybe he did. And if he did, then I had just failed another test. But I was
tired of being a prisoner. One way or the other, I was going to live here until
I got pregnant and birthed his child. And if that was the case, then I might
as well get to know my surroundings.

The mansion was gorgeous, a Spanish-style home that had large vaulted
ceilings and exposed beams in the kitchen and dining room. Every room I
walked through spoke of the wealth that Gavril apparently had. The
furniture was all custom made—rigid, harsh lines that reflected his
personality.

There was only one room that looked comfortable, a small study I found
facing the lush garden that surrounded a sparkling pool.

Why couldn’t he have put me in this room? I thought bitterly. This was a
room I could have spent a lifetime in.

Vera found me right before lunch, her hawk-like eyes assessing me. “Would
you like to take your luncheon on the terrace today?” she asked in Russian.

“Sure,” I answered, giving her a little smile. I needed some allies in this
mess I had found myself in, and why not start with the one person who
understood Gavril the most? “Can you tell me more about this room?”

Vera looked around the study, shrugging her thin shoulders. “It’s a room
that no one frequents.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was looking for.

“Is the pool ready to swim in?” It wasn’t a large pool, more like one of
those spa pools, but I was also trying to engage Vera in a discussion, at
least.

“Everything on the master’s grounds is usable,” she said, turning and

leaving the room before I could ask anymore questions.

That had gone well.

Still, the pool was too much of a draw for me. After lunch, I walked back
upstairs to change into a one-piece swimsuit and grabbed a towel from the
bathroom. I let out a long breath when I stepped out into the warm
afternoon.

Sure enough, the water was just as warm and I felt a rush of excitement as I
lowered myself into the crystal blue water, realizing the only visibility to
the pool was through the study’s French doors.

Even above me, there wasn’t a window to be seen, and I finally allowed
myself to let down my guard. I was sure that the guards were within
earshot, everyone knowing where I was right at this moment, but I didn’t
care. For just a moment, I could pretend. Pretend I wasn’t Gavril’s wife.
Pretend that I enjoyed this place.

I sank until my body was fully submerged and tipped my face to the
sunshine, soaking up its rays. I imagined I was in the cold waters of the
Pacific. I imagined the sound of gulls as they skimmed over the sapphire
waters. I imagined the crash of the waves even though the pool water was
still. And for a brief, giddy moment, I thought I could smell the salt.

When I was still Naomi Spencer, I would head to the Pacific Ocean just to
watch the waves crash in and let the din take away whatever was bothering
me.

This was a close second. Unfortunately, I couldn’t have it take away

everything that was bothering me. What that was going to take, I didn’t
know.

I don’t know how long I stayed in the pool, the water never cooling around
me, but when I opened my eyes after sunning the last time, I found Gavril
standing a few feet away, watching me. He was dressed in his customary
suit, the collar open and exposing the tanned skin I knew was underneath
there.

He had a pair of dark sunglasses on his face, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but I
moved over to the side of the pool anyway, resting my forearms on the
concrete.

“Welcome home, my love,” I said softly in Russian, knowing I was still

playing a part.

“Wife,” he answered, pulling off his sunglasses and tucking them into his
suit pocket. “I see you found the pool.”
“Am I free to move around the mansion?” I asked lightly, hoping that he
wasn’t upset that I had done so. Now that I knew the pool was here, it was
going to be hard to stay out of it. “My door wasn’t locked.”

He made no move to come closer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his
pants. “Of course,” he murmured. “This is your home too. You are not a
prisoner here, Sveta.”

The hell I’m not. “Thank you.”

My words seemed to surprise him, and I was glad. I wanted to find common
ground with him to not make this miserable and for him not to look at me
like a piece of meat.

Did he have any softness in him? I didn’t know, and honestly, I doubted it.
But he was my husband, whether I wanted him to be or not. So it wasn’t
like I had a choice.

If I displeased him, he would teach me a lesson.

If I ran, he would hunt me down.

If I defied him…Well, what was the use of thinking about things that
wouldn’t happen?

Finally, Gavril moved toward me and held out his hand. “Come, Sveta,” he
said softly, his eyes betraying no emotion. “I’m going to take you out to
dinner tonight.”

If the pool had been any deeper, I would have drowned, my knees
weakening in the water. “What?”

“Dinner,” he continued, a tease to his voice. “At a restaurant.”

Who was this man, and what had he done with my husband? “You want us
to go out in public?”
A flash of emotion slid across his face and then disappeared. “Of course I
do. They need to see you happy and healthy.” He paused as he searched for
the right word. “Unharmed.”

“Oh,” I replied, feeling foolish. He didn’t want to spend time with me at all.
He just wanted to show everyone else that I was okay. That I was still alive.

I pushed myself out of the water and found Gavril there nearly immediately,
holding out the forgotten towel to wrap around me.

“Get dressed,” he replied, his hands sliding down my shoulders to my upper

arms, his touch drawing a shiver from me in return. “Wear something
worthy of a Pakhan’s wife tonight.”

I turned in his touch, my eyes finding his. “What if I’m recognized?” I

asked, suddenly concerned.

We were still in LA, a place I had spent most of my adult life in, and I had
been known in certain circles. I could only play Sveta for so long.

Gavril dropped his hands and took several steps back. “Play your part,” he
murmured. “And you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Oh, I had plenty to worry about.

***

“Wow,” I said as the car pulled up the winding drive, pausing before the set
of sparkling double doors. “This place has people on the waiting list for like
a year.”

To my surprise, Gavril chuckled, waiting for someone to open his door. “It’s
good to know you can be surprised, Sveta. But how would you know such
things?”
I shut my mouth as his reminder slid into my core. Sveta wouldn’t know
those sorts of details about this restaurant or much of LA. I gave him a short
nod, and he did so in return as the door opened and he stepped out, looking
sexy in a dark suit and an equally dark sapphire blue silk shirt underneath.

My insides had quivered when I had come down the stairs at home to find
him waiting for me, his eyes perusing over my choice and seemingly
accepting it.

For tonight, I had chosen a sleek blue cocktail dress that had most of the
back missing and only two thin straps holding the front panel over my
breasts. The dress had a long slit that crept up to the top of my thigh. I had
paired it with some classic black heels and one single silver pendant that I
had found in the jewelry drawer.

My hair was simple, my makeup natural, and I felt like a million bucks
walking into the most sought-after restaurant in LA, the envy of every
woman there because of the man at my side.

Gavril was greeted immediately, and we were shown to a small, intimate

table in the corner with an unobstructed view of the skyline. Gavril pulled
out my chair and I gave him a small smile as I sat, clasping my hands in my
lap.

To my surprise, for like the hundredth time in the last hour, he leaned down
and his lips grazed my temple. “I will be back. I’m going to choose a wine
from the cellar for our dinner tonight.”

Good Lord. What sort of man was he? All I could do was nod, and he
walked off with one of the restaurant staff, disappearing from view a
moment later.

I could still feel the imprint of his lips on my forehead as I looked around
the restaurant, hoping that I wouldn’t see anyone that I recognized.

Everything here was picture perfect, from the pristine white tablecloth to
the low lighting. In another life, I would have felt like something special
was about to happen if someone had brought me here.

Well, this was sort of special, I guessed. Gavril had me out of the mansion,
clearly not at all worried that I was going to slip out of the door when he
turned his back.

God! His ego and self-confidence!

I turned my attention back to people watching, my blood freezing in my

veins as I noted a familiar face among the tables.

No, not him. Anyone but him.

My throat went dry as a bone, and I forced myself to swallow. I blinked,

and the face morphed into someone unfamiliar. Sweet relief flooded
through me as I realized it wasn’t Jon at all, but some random man that had
seen me staring, his interest piqued.

Forcing my eyes back to the table, I prayed that he wouldn’t come over
here.

I was glad it wasn’t Jon. Not because he knew who I was. But because I’d
spent years trying to avoid him. And no matter how far I ran, he always
found me.

Gavril had asked me if I was afraid of him, and I hadn’t lied. It wasn’t him I
was afraid of. He could do all sorts of things to me, and it wouldn’t hold a
candle to what Jon had done.

I forced myself to relax and reached out for my glass of water.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

I didn’t dare look up, hoping that my silence and all around ignoring him
would make the stranger go away.

“You look familiar. What’s your name? Don’t I know you?”

I certainly didn’t recognize him, but the nervousness still settled in my
stomach. What if he did recognize me and started calling out my name?

What would I do then?

My hand flexed against the table, but I forced myself to remain staring at
the plate before me, my heart hammering in my ears. He had to leave before
Gavril came back, or I was going to be in trouble, likely him thinking that I
had somehow brought this upon myself.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” the man tried again, his fingers touching the back of
my hand. I flinched at the smoothness of them tracing over my knuckles,
revulsion rising in my throat.

What sort of man thought he could touch a woman like that, especially
someone who they didn’t even know?

And just then, a hard, familiar voice rang out.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 13
Gavril
Moments Before

“We are very pleased that you and your lovely companion decided to join
us tonight. It’s an honor to have you in my restaurant.”

I listened to the rambling of the restaurant owner in my ear as he walked me

down to his personal wine cellar below the restaurant. As we descended, the
chatter of the restaurant was slowly drowned out and replaced by the hum
of the dim lights overhead.

When I had decided to take Naomi out, there was only one place I was
going to bring her to, a place that would give her maximal benefit to be
seen by the elite of LA. The waitlist usually took years to clear out. But I
was on another list. I’d done the owner quite a number of favors over the
years—both legal and illegal. And seeing as how I supplied most of the
rarer bottles in the cellar, he knew better than to deny me entry.

We reached a heavy wooden door, and he pushed it open, the automatic

lights flickering on and revealing row upon row of dusty bottles in the dim
light. He led me to the selection of reds and I picked up a bottle, looking at
the label before setting it back on the rack. My own mansion held an
impressive selection itself. I liked to enjoy a fine bottle in lieu of vodka at
dinner.

Not that I ate much at home. Normally I was working, either at one of the
clubs or conducting the business to keep the Bratva afloat.

Something told me that I would be eating more meals at home in the

coming months.

“This one,” I told him, showing him the label. A peninsula red from the
Southern Rhone Valley of France. Aged fifty years. Easily a fifteen-
hundred-dollar bottle.
“Excellent choice,” the owner stated, nodding his head. “Shall we get back
to your companion?”

“My wife,” I corrected him.

His eyes widened. “My apologies, Pakhan! Please accept my sincere well
wishes on your happy union.”

I was going to need more than wishes to pull off this plan. Grabbing the
wine by the neck, I started back. The owner followed, hot on my heels, and
took two steps at a time in an effort to close the distance between us.

When we finally arrived back at the restaurant floor, I saw Naomi still
seated where I had left her, but someone else was at the table.

Fucking touching her.

I watched through a red sheen of anger as the fucker’s fingers touched the
back of her hand, saw how pale her face had gotten, and nearly hurled the
bottle at his fucking head.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” I asked as I slammed the
bottle on the table.

The fucker touching Naomi looked up, surprise filtering through his
expression. I was on him in a second and pinned his head against the table
so hard that the entire place setting rattled.

Silence detonated in the place like a bomb. But all I heard was the buzz of
rage in my ears. I wanted to see the man who had dared touch my wife
bleed all over the fucking white tablecloth.

He fell to the floor, his head in his hands as I placed my foot on his back. I
flexed my own, ready to rip out his spine.
“Gavril. Gavril, no.”

Naomi’s terrified voice reached me, and I forced myself to look at her. She
was as white as a sheet. “Please,” she whispered in Russian. “Please don’t
do this. Not here. Not in public.”

She knew. She knew what sort of rage lived within me, almost like she
could read my fucking mind about what I was going to do.

That unsettled me, but the fear in her eyes did something far worse that I
hadn’t anticipated. It was fear for me, not because of me.

Fuck.

I ran my hands through my hair, smoothing the locks and my nerves all at
the same time.

“My wife has asked me not to rip your spine from your back tonight,” I told
the man, who was trying and failing to get to his feet. “You can thank her
for saving your life.”

When he didn’t say anything, I kicked him hard in the ribs, satisfied at the
sound of a bone breaking under the force.

“I’m sorry! Okay?” he groaned, grabbing his side and trying to move out of
my range. “Fuck, man! Are you insane?”

I wasn’t done. “Ask her forgiveness.”

“Gavril,” Naomi started, but I silenced her by raising my hand.

Grabbing the back of the man’s neck, I forced him to look at Naomi.
“Apologize to my wife Sveta for touching her without her or my
permission.”

The man literally trembled in my grasp, but now that I had commanded the
entire restaurant’s attention, I couldn’t very well let him walk out without
some humiliation first. I was exerting my power.

And fuck, it felt good.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, spittle flying from his mouth.

I moved my hand to his shoulder, squeezing hard enough until I felt the
crack of the bone underneath.

“I said beg,” I told him. “Try again.”

“I apologize for touching you, Sveta,” he said, his voice a notch higher
from the pain he was likely feeling right now. “P-Please forgive me.”

“Kiss her fucking shoes,” I growled, pushing his face toward Naomi’s feet.

At first I thought he was going to refuse, but in the end, he did as I asked,
pressing his lips to her black heels. There were a thousand other ways I
could make him humiliate himself, but we were in public and I had to show
some restraint.

I let go of his shoulder and stepped back to watch as he scurried away past
the onlookers that stared in rapt attention. A few of them quickly put away
their phones, clearly filming what had just happened.

I didn’t fucking care.

“Mr. Kirilenko,” the restaurant manager said, sweat dotting his forehead.
“Please forgive me. That man will be barred from the restaurant. For life.”

“Good,” I said, an easy smile gracing my lips now. My blood was still
drumming through my veins, and I wanted to fuck Naomi so hard that she
saw stars, but I had promised her a dinner, and that was what she was going
to get.

So I turned back to my wife, finding her watching me with wide eyes. Some
color had come back to her cheeks, and she didn’t look thoroughly
disgusted by what had happened.

Interesting. “Are you okay?” I asked, straightening the cuffs of my jacket.

“I am,” she replied softly.

The staff scurried around me, righting the things on our table, including a
new tablecloth, and I sat down across from her, waiting until they had
poured the wine before handing her a glass. “Try this,” I offered, holding it
out to her.

She took the glass, her fingers brushing over mine and sending my mind in
the same direction it had been when I had watched her walk down the
fucking stairs tonight. I wanted her. We almost hadn’t made it out of the
mansion. It had taken every ounce of my being not to ravish her in the back
of the car before arriving.

And now, I wasn’t sure if I could get through dinner without doing so.

I watched as she lifted the glass to her lips, taking a small sip of the red I
had chosen for tonight. “It’s good,” she finally said, her pink tongue darting
out to lick the remnants.

The sight went straight to my cock, and I had to adjust my position on the
chair as it pressed painfully against my leg. “Good,” I forced out, grabbing
my own glass and settling back in the chair. “Try the filet mignon. It’s the
best you will ever have in LA.”

If my sudden change in demeanor bothered her, Naomi didn’t show it, and I
took a long sip of my wine, watching her as she watched me.

She was mine. If she didn’t know it by now, the display I had put on tonight
was my means of marking her to everyone that might even be considering
saving Sveta from her monster of a husband. There was very little doubt in
my mind that there were pockets of those that were still loyal to Orlov, who
wanted to rescue his daughter from the life she had been thrust into and
bring the family name back to rights.
I had accomplished two things tonight, and the fucker that had touched
Naomi had been an unwilling participant in a plan I didn’t even know I
needed. One, it had allowed me to exert my own dominance over someone
in front of an audience. Hell, I hadn’t been able to do that in a long while,
and the last time I had, the person hadn’t walked out of there alive.

Two, it had shown that I was willing to go to great lengths for my wife.
Either people would think I cared greatly about her or that there was
something else I wasn’t telling people.

Leaning forward, I touched her hand from across the table, letting my
fingers erase where that fucker touched her. “Tell me,” I said, watching
every small movement. “Did you know him?”

She shook her head, not breaking my gaze. “I did not.”

I stared at her for a few more minutes, satisfied when I didn’t see any thread
of doubt in her depths. “Good,” I told her. “Because I would hate to have to
kill him for something he thought he knew.”

Her eyes widened, but I was already settling back into my chair, the
epitome of a man out on a romantic evening with his wife. But I had been
prepared to kill the man. I was a man of my word.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Naomi ordered the filet as I
suggested, and I nearly spent myself in my pants watching her
enthusiastically enjoy her meal, not afraid to eat in front of anyone.

I didn’t want her to be a shrinking violet in that manner. While I was almost
certain Sveta would have sat there and picked at her food, this was one little
slip I was glad to allow.

Besides, nothing pissed me off more than allowing good food to go to

waste.
By the end of the meal, I was ready to get away from the prying eyes of
those around us and back to the mansion.

Standing, I threw my napkin on my plate and held out my hand. “Come. It’s
time for us to go home.”

Naomi didn’t fight me, instead sliding her hand into mine and allowing me
to pull her up from her seat and directly into my arms. Without thinking, I
leaned down and brushed my lips over hers, a fleeting kiss that was meant
more for display than anything else.

Still, with her lush body pressed up against mine, I knew she could feel the
outline of my cock pressing into her stomach, giving her an indication of
what was going to await her when we got back.

Pulling back, I tucked her to my side and we walked out to the waiting car.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 14
Naomi

I sat beside Gavril as the car started to wind its way down the interstate,
heading back to the mansion. I was pleasantly full from dinner, and he had
been right; the filet had practically melted in my mouth with each bite.

But the filet wasn’t the only star in the room tonight. No. The bigger one
had been my husband and what he did. All throughout dinner, we had been
watched by the restaurant, presumably because everyone was waiting for
Gavril to do something else they had never seen before.

Truthfully speaking, I did too. I had seen a familiar flash in his eyes after he
dispatched that man. For a brief, terrifying moment, I was convinced he was
about to bend me over the table and take me there.

And I would have loved it.

He hadn’t, of course. Instead, he had been unfailingly polite to me and the

waitstaff, even waving off the owner’s offer of a free meal because of his
troubles.

It was like he had done a complete one-eighty in a day, and now I didn’t
know who I was dealing with that was sitting right beside me.

Our thighs were touching, but Gavril’s hands were elsewhere, one on his
other thigh and the other resting just above my shoulder on the back of the
seat, so close that I could have him touch me if I wanted to. He hadn’t said
two words to me since we had gotten into the car, and I was dying to know
what was going through his mind.

What he thought was going through mine.

So I did the unthinkable. I slid over until my head was resting against his
chest, his steady heartbeat drumming against my cheek.
“What are you doing?” he said in a low voice, making no move to push me
away.

I pressed my hand against his silk shirt, finding myself far more
comfortable pressed up against him than I should be. “I’m resting my head.
Is that okay?”

He didn’t respond, but his arm slipped from the seat to around my shoulder
and he held me there as if to say that it was okay.

I snuggled against him, breathing in the subtle spice of his cologne, the
same intoxicating smell that lingered on my sheets once he stepped out of
them. It was wild and strong, like he was. I felt my body thrum and shifted
closer to him, fully aware of the wetness slowly creeping forth between my
legs.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “For tonight.”

“Which part?”

A smile curved my lips. “Both. The dinner and what you did.”

I didn’t dare lift my head, not wanting to see his face if he was going to
reject my thank you. His measures were a bit extreme, but he had done it
for me. That had to mean something about our relationship.

Was I growing on him?

I didn’t know, but he’d made me feel safe in that moment. He’d made me
feel protected—a feeling that hadn’t been part of my vocabulary for quite
some time.

He’d shown me that he wasn’t the sort of man to just let things go, and he
had chosen to handle it in the old-fashioned way of brute force.

It was simultaneously amazing and incredibly attractive.

Still, part of the problem was that I had thought Jon had been there. It
wasn’t the first time I had thought I had seen him, picking him out in
crowds or at the mall, even on one of the sets that I had been working on at
the time.

Each time it felt like my privacy was being violated, like he could walk up
to me and I would go back to the scared girl from that night and every night
after until Ilsa saved me. She’d forced me to go to a therapist, to get
professional help after what had happened, and while I had thought I would
find it completely embarrassing, it hadn’t been.

It had been the best thing I had ever done for myself. At the therapist’s
coaxing, I had grown into a more confident woman, nearly untouchable
until Gavril had come into my life.

Now, well, I wasn’t so sure I could handle anything thrown at me, but then
again, did it even really matter?

I had Gavril, my own dark knight in shining armor.

I felt a primal need to thank him somehow, and words just didn’t feel like
enough.

So I lifted my head and caught his hooded gaze looking down at me. What
had those eyes seen? What brutality had his hands dealt with? I had seen his
body, though fleetingly, and it was covered in scars and tattoos.

Gavril had gone through something horrible in his lifetime.

“What?” he asked roughly, as if he was guarding every word that came out
of his mouth.

“You know I mean it,” I said softly, wishing I could speak to him in English
instead of Russian—as Naomi instead of Sveta.

While it was just the two of us in the back seat, there was still a guard in the
passenger side and a driver, both separated by a dark sheet of glass that I
imagined wasn’t soundproof. If they heard me talking in English, then there
was a good chance the gig would be up, and I would be dead.

He raised his hand, pushing the hair out of my face. “I know.”

Two words that could shatter my heart. I didn’t like how that felt. I didn’t
like how I had gone from thinking about throwing myself off a balcony in
order to get away from him to snuggling with him in the back of a car.

My mind couldn’t process it.

So I pressed my lips to his, feeling his start of surprise before his hand was
winding around the back of my neck and holding me against his lips. His
kiss wasn’t as brutal as others had been, though it wasn’t long before he
was taking control of our kiss. His tongue entered my mouth, as if trying to
memorize every corner and recess. I was lost in the kiss, my lips parting
and allowing him deeper access.

A quiet moan fluttered forward from my lips, and heat slowly started to
pool in my gut. But this time, it was hotter and brighter than it had been in
the past. Something was shifting between us, something that I couldn’t put
my finger on it. But it made me want to climb onto his lap, to tease his cock
out and impale myself so that he would fill me.

I was a wanton for him and him alone. Fuck how or what we were doing.
He awoke something deep inside that I didn’t even know existed.

I shifted myself over onto his lap and he allowed me to do so, his long
fingers stroking the indentions on my hips as he grasped them lightly. I felt
his hard length between my thighs, the material of his pants chafing my
sensitive thighs.

This was far more intimate than anything we had done so far, more of me
initiating something than him just fucking me for a point.

I didn’t know what I was doing, but it felt right.

Breaking the kiss, I leaned back slightly to see his face, my harsh breathing
intermingling with Gavril’s. I traced the high forehead with my eyes, down
to the sloping, arrogant nose and the dark lashes that framed his hard but
impressive eyes. His sensual mouth was wet with our kiss, and I traced the
lower lip, feeling the fullness against the pad of my finger. I couldn’t
believe he was letting me do this, touch him like I was. I fully expected him
to stop me, to take control, but he wasn’t.

I didn’t know this side of Gavril.

In the darkness of the car, he looked even more dangerous, the shadows
dancing over his high cheekbones dusted with dark hair. He reminded me of
a viper poised to strike at any moment, and for some reason, that excited
me.

“Gorgeous,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt gorgeous in his eyes at this moment. Once we stepped out of this car,
who knew what would happen, but right now, as the car moved through the
city, sending flashes of light through the windows, I felt gorgeous.

I watched as my hands slipped down to his silk shirt as I slid from his lap,
barely able to fit in the small space between the seat and his legs. Gavril let
his legs fall open to give me more room, and I sank to my knees before him,
my hands finding his length straining against his pants. My throat went dry
as I traced him with my fingers, realizing he must be painfully hard.

What had done that? Was it because he got off on the power?

Was it me?

I hoped I affected him like he affected me. I hoped that he lay awake at
night, long after our sex session, and thought about more between us.

Maybe I should give him something to think about.

My nipples hardened under my dress as I reached for his belt buckle,
waiting for him to stop me. Instead, Gavril lifted his hips to give me better
access, and in the span of a few moments, I had him freed, his cock jutting
out from his body proudly.

“So powerful,” I murmured as my hand roamed over his throbbing flesh,

brushing over the engorged tip to find a pearly bead of pre-cum smeared
there. My eyes met Gavril’s, and I could see the clench on his jaw. He was
barely hanging on as it was, and the thought that I had him literally in my
grasp sent me on a power trip. “Beautiful, even.”

Gavril’s body jerked, my fingertip tracing the vein on the underside of his
cock, careful not to score the sensitive skin there. What would it be like to
have full control of Gavril?

I doubted he allowed anyone to have full control of him.

Would I be his first?

Leaning forward, I traced that same vein with the tip of my tongue, tasting
his musk and saltiness as he groaned above me. His hand fisted in my hair,
but he made no move to force me to take his cock, not like before.

I hadn’t given him oral since that day with the wedding dress debacle, but
now he was giving me some leeway with what I wanted—what I wished.

How far could Gavril be pushed?

How far would he let me control this?

How far before both of us lost control?

My tongue moved up to the head, greedily lapping up the evidence of what

I was doing to him, My eyes found his, and the intensity of his gaze made
me squeeze my legs together to stop myself from coming. Every fiber in my
being begged me to climb on top of his delicious cock and ride him until we
were both sweaty and spent.
Not yet. I didn’t want to take him in the back of a car like this. I wanted
room to call out his name in English when he made me shatter. To grasp a
handful of bedsheets or grab ahold of his muscular back as he took me. To
lose myself as he flooded my insides with his essence.

Because the look he was giving me? He was going to do exactly that.

Whatever I was doing to him right now, Gavril was going to give it back to
me tenfold, and I would welcome it. A tiny voice in the back of my mind
told me that tonight would be different between us, either both on a power
trip for what happened at the restaurant or something else.

A more naïve person would have almost called it love.

When I pulled back, his hand tightened in my hair, urging me to return.

“That was just a taste,” I murmured, forcing myself to remove my hands
from his body. “Of what will be waiting for you at home.”

His nostrils flared. “Home, Sveta?” he murmured. “Is that your home?”

It was Sveta’s home but not mine. I pushed that particular thought away as I
rose awkwardly and took my place on the seat next to him. “Of course,” I
said in Russian. “Where else would I be?”

Gavril seemed happy with my response as he tucked himself back into his
trousers. “You are a tease, wife.”

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” I replied.

His eyebrow arched. “Oh?”

Feeling bold, I let the hem of my dress ride up my thigh, my hand reaching
over to take his scarred hand and press it between my thighs. There was no
mistaking the slickness coating his fingers. He brushed his fingers across
the soaked scrap of lace, and I let out a small, fitful gasp of pleasure.
“And this is your dessert.”

“Well then,” Gavril said as he removed his fingers from my dripping wet
center, bringing his fingers up to his lips. “You won’t begrudge me an early
taste.”

My breath stuttered in my chest as I watched his fingers enter between his

lips, and he licked them clean.

Oh God. What had I done?

A grin crossed his lips and he extended his arm once more, placing it on my
shoulders and pulling me to his side. I breathed in his scent. My body was
acutely aware of the way the material of my dress touched my skin. He had
set every nerve alive with that one move. The touch had meant to tease him,
but right now, I felt like I was the one being teased.

Never before had I felt this bold with another man, without a hint of fear in
my depths. I thought Jon had ruined me for all other men. Until I met
Gavril, I thought I couldn’t find any satisfaction in any sort of relationship,
sexual or otherwise.

My friendship with Ilsa was the one solid thing I didn’t have to worry
about.

Now there was Gavril, and I didn’t know what that relationship was going
to be like, but tonight was the first glimpse that he wasn’t going to be
concerned if Jon ever showed up.

He had protected me from a random stranger. If he only knew what I had

endured at the hands of a man I thought had loved me before. A shiver shot
through me, and Gavril’s arm tightened on my shoulder.

“Cold? Anxious?” he asked, his lips brushing the tip of my ear.

I looked up into his face, into his hard expression, and gave him a small
smile.
“Excited,” I breathed.

I couldn’t lie. He had done something to me, and all I wanted to do was to
go home, to the only home I knew, and explore that feeling full circle.

Gavril might not call out my name tonight, but he wouldn’t forget who gave
him pleasure.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 15
Gavril

The car pulled up in front of the mansion, and I let out a slow breath. That
had been the longest fucking drive of my life after Naomi had gotten off her
knees before me, looking as if she had found the secret to immortality in my
cock.

Presently my cock was pressed to my thigh painfully, begging for release,

and had come close when I had touched Naomi’s wetness between her
thighs, tasting her on my lips.

Tonight, nothing was going to stop me from having her the way I wanted to,
as many times I wanted to. I had been holding back with Naomi, reminding
myself of my prime goal of getting her pregnant so that it would solidify
my fucked up plans.

I hadn’t taken a moment to enjoy her, to see how far she could be pushed
and what she could do in the bedroom.

That was going to change.

Opening the door, I reached in for Naomi, grasping her hand and helping
her out of the car. “Go to your bedroom,” I told her, brushing her hair back
from her face. “I will only be a moment.”

She nodded, and I watched as she walked into the house, growling softly as
I watched her ass move with each step. She was going to be the death of me
today.

Pulling out my cell phone, I hit the number I was looking for.

“Yes, Pakhan?” Anatoly answered, the phone barely ringing once.

“There was a man tonight,” I told him. “At the restaurant. He disrespected
my wife. I want him found and taught a lesson.”
While I had done a good job of humiliating him, I was far from done with
making sure he understood what he had done and what I thought about it.
This was personal now, and whatever fear he had put in Naomi was going
to be paid for in blood.

“What lesson do you want?” Anatoly asked. “Fatal?”

“No,” I answered. “Take a piece of him. Make sure he understands that it is

going to the Pakhan of the Belaya Bratva, who will be watching him.”

Anatoly chuckled. “You got it, boss. I will be in touch.”

I ended the call, a small grin crossing my face. That made me feel better,
and now I would be going in to fuck my “wife” in a dozen different ways.

Vera was standing in the foyer when I entered the mansion, wringing her
hands as usual. “Good evening, master,” she stated, inclining her head. “I
trust you had a good night out?”

“I did,” I answered, my eyes flickering to the second landing, where I knew

Naomi was waiting for me. “I do not wish to be disturbed tonight unless it
is a dire emergency.”

“Of course,” she answered, a frown on her face. “I will let everyone know.”

I didn’t respond and turned toward the stairs to climb them two at a time.
Blood roared in my ears with each step. When I finally arrived at Naomi’s
door, I found it partially open.

For me.

I pushed it open and stepped inside. Naomi was waiting for me near the
bed. She had exchanged her dress and heels for a racy set of lingerie in
black, the lace barely covering her high breasts and the V-shaped shorts
emphasizing her perfect creamy thighs.
I kicked the door shut with my foot as I stripped off my coat, throwing it in
the nearby chair so that I could remove my cufflinks, sliding those into my
pocket. “I see you got comfortable without me.”

Her lips pursed as she combed her hair over one shoulder. “It’s time for you
to do the same, husband.”

She still spoke in Russian, keeping to what I had asked her to do, but a
piece of me wished she would speak in English. While I wanted to see
Sveta before me, I only saw Naomi.

What the fuck did that mean?

I wasn’t sure, nor did I fucking care at this point. “Not yet,” I finally
replied, crossing the room to close the distance between us. “You promised
me dessert.”

Her skin flushed, and there was a certain bit of nervousness in her eyes,
which only made me more intrigued at what would happen tonight.

She reached for the hem of the flimsy top she had on, but I shook my head.

“No. I want to unwrap it myself.”

Her hands fell to her sides as I brought one of my own up to cup her cheek,
letting my thumb brush over her soft skin. She sucked in a breath with each
movement, her chest rapidly rising and falling in anticipation, and it pleased
me greatly.

And we were just getting started.

I brought her close to me, until there were mere inches between us, and I
swore I could hear her loud heartbeat in my own ears. I let my lips brush
over her temple, then her ear until she was shivering in my grasp. I traced
her jawbone, and she angled her head to give me access to her neck, where I
latched my lips on her bounding pulse.
“Gavril,” she gasped, her hand sliding into my hair.

My other hand moved down to her shoulder, easing the strap down her arm
to expose her breast to the cool air. I heard her moan, and it was like liquid
fire straight to my groin. My lips traveled down to her collarbone, tracing it
with my tongue before I dropped to one knee, coming face to face with her
rosy-tipped nipple, begging for my touch.

“Krasivaya,” I said harshly, using my scarred hand to grasp it lightly, my

calloused thumb brushing over the sensitive skin. There was nothing I
didn’t like about Naomi’s body. I doubted the real Sveta would have ever
satisfied me as Naomi had so far.

I took the bud in my mouth, suckling hard until I elicited a whimper from
her, barely acknowledging the fact that her hand was still in my hair.

I welcomed the pain of her tugging against my scalp and rolled down the
other strap so that I could feast on her other breast.

My hand brushed the waistband of her shorts and I tugged on them, keeping
my mouth latched on her breast as I pushed them down her slick thighs
until they were on the floor and she was bared before me. I could smell her
arousal and my cock flared, wanting to be buried in the wetness I had felt in
the car.

Not yet.

My hand slid up her calf until I was pushing her legs apart, Naomi’s own
hands coming to my shoulders to steady herself. I tore my mouth away,
staring at her dripping pussy. “Part your lips for me,” I murmured, licking
my lips. “I want to see your clit all swollen and hot for me.”

Her hands slid from my shoulder, and her trembling fingers spread her lips
apart, exposing her swollen nub to my eyes.

It was a beautiful sight. Her pink lips glistened with her own need, and I
longed to taste her nectar.
I grasped her clit between my lips and heard her shuddering gasp from the
touch. My tongue was there to soothe her immediately. Her taste flooded
my mouth, so uniquely her and addictive. Like sunshine and fine wine
mixed together, the perfect complement to a long day.

Gasps turned to pants. Pants turned to moans. And soon her voice grew
husky and ragged. Her fingers dug into my shoulders at what I was making
her feel.

I lapped at her swollen clit, feeling it pulsate as my tongue drew slow,

torturous circles. Naomi was close, especially the way she was mewling
above me, arching against my tongue to give me better access. I had to slide
my hand to cup her ass to hold her still.

When my other hand slid up her parted thighs and I pushed a finger into her
tight sheath, she nearly jumped out of my touch. “Oh God,” she breathed as
I slid into the wet warmth. “Oh God, I’m close.”

There was no mistaking how close she truly was, but I didn’t stop, torturing
her with my finger and my tongue until she cried out my name, her body
jerking with her release. I caught her as her knees buckled, laying her on the
bed and stepping back so I could feast my eyes on what I had caused.

Her entire body was flushed from her orgasm, and her lips parted from
pleasure. Hair covered her eyes, and I watched with feral satisfaction as her
perky nipples rose and fell with her irregular breaths.

I hadn’t seen anything so fucking beautiful in a long time.

With a growl, I pulled my shirt over my head and shucked my pants in rapid
succession before kneeling between her thighs. My cock was already
leaking pre-cum again, and I knew I wasn’t going to be long myself once I
felt that wetness.

Finally, Naomi’s eyes fluttered open, and the haze of pleasure reflecting in
them had me grinning. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name,”
I told her, my hand sliding up to her knee. “You will never remember
another person between your thighs like this.”

Her eyes widened as I poised myself at her entrance, guiding myself in until
I couldn’t push any longer. She clenched around me and I gritted my teeth,
my own need nearly taking my breath away.

Fuck! When was the last time I had wanted a woman like this? I felt like a
damn schoolboy with his first pussy tonight.

“Gavril,” she gasped as I seated myself against her, throwing her legs over
my shoulders so that I could go deeper.

“Fuck me,” I growled, sweat starting to dot my forehead. I hadn’t even

moved yet, but it felt like I was running the marathon quicker than
anticipated.

I started to move then, and she screamed out my name as I brought her to
another orgasm quickly and effectively, feeling her quiver around my
aching cock as she flooded it with her release. I didn’t stop, knowing she
had teased me enough, and soon I felt my balls tighten, my own release
rushing to meet hers.

“Naomi,” I grunted right before I poured into her, the world ceasing to exist
around us. She screamed my name and I panted, surprised by the
lightheadedness that had hit me.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 16
Gavril

I stayed buried deep inside her until my legs started to cramp and I rolled
off, falling into the bed with her, our breathing harsh and the only sound in
her bedroom. I couldn’t do that again if I tried, not right now anyway. I felt,
well, I felt at peace for a few moments.

Then reality started to set in, and I realized what I had done, what I had said
in the heat of the moment. I had called her by her real name.

Why didn’t I feel immediate anger?

Why the fuck did it feel right?

I didn’t know how long I lay there next to her, but when she whimpered, I
sat up, my entire body feeling as if it had been hit by a train.

Naomi didn’t say anything as I walked to the bathroom, as I did every time
after our sexual interludes and cleaned myself up, splashing water on my
face to calm the fuck down. My blood was still roaring through my veins
and I needed a drink, but my body was sated.

Far more sated than I had expected it to be, and it was because of what that
woman did to me without even realizing it.

I ran a hand through my hair, staring at the man reflected back at me in the
mirror. For a moment, I dropped my facade, allowing worry to bleed
through my expression. I had fucking forgotten why I had brought Naomi
here in the first place, calling her name out in a fit of passion. In that
moment, she wasn’t just a vessel for my fucking kid.

She was something more, and that was what bothered me the most.

I had to be careful not to let her get close. That was not the intent when I
had married her that day. She wasn’t going to be part of my life, part of me.
I wouldn’t allow it.

Pulling my shit together, I walked out of the bathroom and found Naomi
curled up on her side, the sheet pulled up over her and her breathing slow
and even. How about that? I’d fucked her to sleep.

A wry smile crossed my face as I reached down and pulled the forgotten
comforter up over her shoulders, careful not to wake her. A tightness pulled
at my chest and I stepped back, pulling on my pants before striding out of
the room before I could do something else fucking stupid.

I didn’t give a shit about her. Sex was sex, and she was good at it. It was
enough to satisfy me, more than I could have had with the real Sveta.

And the stunt at the restaurant, that was because someone had dared touch
what was mine. Naomi was mine, even though she wasn’t Sveta, and she
could very well be carrying my child at this very moment.

That was the only reason I had seen red and reacted as such.

The hallway was quiet as I moved into my own suite, directly to the crystal
decanter that waited on the sideboard in my small living room area. I
poured a healthy dose of vodka and threw it back nearly immediately, not
even grimacing as the liquid burned its path down to my stomach.

In fact, I welcomed the pain, setting the glass aside for now. It was a stark
reminder that I had a plan with Naomi, not the simple fact that I had wanted
to be married. She was posing as Sveta so I could take the helm of what was
left of her father’s Mafia. I had worked my ass off to make sure this plan
was in action, and that was what I wanted.

Nothing more.

“Fuck,” I swore as I headed toward my bathroom for a good shower. I

would sleep like the dead tonight, courtesy of the one thing that I didn’t
want but somehow found myself craving.
Naomi was going to be a problem. I could easily tell that, but I wasn’t
willing to let her go just yet. As long as no one knew she wasn’t Sveta, my
plan remained intact.

But the moment the secret came out, I would have to make a decision about
her future. Until tonight it would have been easy, but now I wasn’t so sure.

For the first time in my fucking life, I was leading with something other
than my cock, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 17
Naomi
A Week Later

I dove under the water, holding my breath and pushing myself in the
direction of the wall. Under the water, everything was muted, and it was
easy to forget where I was or what I was doing. For someone who had been
forced to be extremely busy all her life, I was struggling to find things that
made me happy. I had no phone, no computer, nothing to entertain me
during the long days except working out and swimming.

If nothing else, I was going to be in the best shape of my life.

Cresting the surface, I pulled in a deep breath, the air fragrant with the
numerous flowers that were blooming in the midafternoon sun. The garden
was easily my favorite place in the mansion, that and the study. At my
request, books and writing materials had been brought in to keep me
entertained, and I had selected a comfortable leather lounger as my own.

Other than that, my nights were filled with my husband.

A shiver shot through me despite the warmth of the day, and I knew it
wasn’t because I was cold. Ever since the night at the restaurant, something
had changed with Gavril. No longer did he come in to fuck me.

No, he took his time, either initiating or having me initiate. But he always
made sure I had an orgasm before he started penetrating me.

The end, though, was always the same. Gavril never stayed, not once. His
smiles were more smirks when he didn’t look so intense, and I had yet to
hear him really laugh as if he was enjoying himself.

There was so much more that I wanted to see and hear him do, so many
layers I wanted to peel back, but he wasn’t letting me.

It was like one wall was down, and I had come upon twenty more.
Why did it mean so much to me? I really didn’t know. Maybe it was
because I felt safe, protected with Gavril.

I knew I shouldn’t. He was a dangerous man, someone who could snap his
fingers and kill someone just because he wanted to. That alone should have
me scared to even spend time with him.

Yet I found myself looking forward to the evenings, waiting with bated
breath to hear Gavril’s low voice downstairs, the nervous pit of my stomach
having me rechecking my clothing or lack thereof.

I was…well, I was happy in that moment.

Sighing, I pushed through the water to the other side, smirking as I saw the
tips of a familiar pair of boots at my eye level.

Looking up, I caught Gavril crouching down, his hands on his thighs.
“Enjoying a swim?” he asked lightly in Russian.

Always in Russian. “I am,” I answered, resting my forearms on the side of

the pool. “Care to join me?”

He arched a brow. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

My fingers drew little circles in the concrete. “I doubt the lack of clothing
has ever stopped you, Gavril.”

His eyes lit with challenge and a slow smile crossed his handsome face,
causing my stomach to tighten in response. “You’re right,” he said, tugging
on his coat. “It’s never stopped me before.”

I swallowed hard as he pulled off his clothing piece by piece, his eyes never
leaving mine, and by the time his tanned skin was glistening in the
sunshine, I was nearly panting.

My husband was gorgeous. I didn’t care if he wasn’t truly my husband, but

Sveta’s on paper. He was mine. It was my hands that touched that body, my
lips that caressed that cock that was already rising hard and ready from his
body.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Or at least I didn’t think there was someone else. When would he have the
time or the stamina to keep up with two of us?

Gavril entered the water and I pushed away from the side, watching as he
stalked toward me. “You are frowning.”

It wasn’t a question. I shook my head. “Sorry, I was thinking of something

unpleasant.”

A smirk appeared on his face. “I can’t say that I have ever had a woman
frown at me when I’m naked before her.”

That big ego. Rolling my eyes, I fell into his arms, winding my own around
his neck. “Perhaps you should have more frowns thrown your way. Then
your ego wouldn’t be so huge.”

He grabbed me hard and I let out a squeal of laughter, surprising us both.

“Do it again,” Gavril said softly.

I cocked my head to the side. “What?”

“Laugh.”

His soft request warmed my insides. Had that been the first time I had
laughed with him? Probably so. There hadn’t been much to laugh at these
days. “I can’t just laugh on command and have it be normal.”

His fingers trailed over my skin until he found a particularly sensitive area
over my ribs. “Let’s see what I can do then,” he stated before he was
tickling me.
Oh my God, Gavril was tickling me! A burst of laughter escaped me, and I
tried to push his hands away. “Stop!” I ordered between the laughs. “Gavril,
please!”

A true grin cracked his normally hard expression, and I felt my insides melt.
He looked younger, smiling like that. “All right,” he finally said, ceasing his
assault. “Since you asked so nicely.”

My laughter subsided, and we stared at each other, his cock pressing into
my stomach. I knew what he wanted, and heaven help me, I wanted the
same thing.

I couldn’t get enough of Gavril either.

Something feral came over his face and he captured my lips, and I
instinctively tightened my hold on him. This was where we were our best.
Moments like this didn’t happen often. They were fleeting reminders that I
wasn’t in this marriage for the right reasons, and neither was Gavril.

But when his lips hit mine, I forgot about the stupid plan or the fact I was
pretending to be a dead woman.

And in this moment, we weren’t Gavril and Sveta.

We were Gavril and Naomi.

His lips tore from mine and latched onto my neck instead, and I wrapped
my legs around his waist as he backed us up toward the steps. Our touches
became frenzied. His hand found the tie on my bikini top, loosening it and
letting it fall into the water. I grasped his cock between our bodies. “Sit,” I
gasped as his lips trailed kisses over my shoulder. “Sit, Gavril.”

He stopped long enough to do so and I shucked my bottoms, rising above

his waiting cock. We hadn’t done this position before and I waited for him
to stop me, knowing he preferred dominance in the bedroom.
When Gavril didn’t, I lowered myself onto his cock, groaning as he filled
me to the core.

“Yes,” I heard Gavril growl, his hands going to my hips. When I was
seated, I opened my eyes, seeing the same burning intensity in his. “Give
yourself to me, Sveta,” he said roughly, his hands reaching up to mold my
breasts to his liking.

I whimpered and pretended that he’d called me Naomi instead. He had done
it that night after the restaurant. And never again since.

It stung. No doubt about that. But I also knew I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t
pretended to be Sveta in the first place.

I started to move against his cock, rocking back and forth as the pressure
built in my lower stomach. Every scrape of my sensitive regions over his
hard planes was like torture, but I kept doing it, crying out his name as the
orgasm hit me hard and fast.

“Fuck,” Gavril growled, lifting his hips as he drove into me, the water
slapping around us. In that moment, I didn’t care who was watching or how
much noise we were making.

It was too good not to. “Please,” I begged as I met him thrust for thrust.

His hand moved down the length of my body. “What are you begging for,
Sveta?” he murmured as he tweaked one of my nipples, sending sparks of
want spiraling through my veins.

“I want you,” I gasped as he slammed into my core, achingly close to my

G-spot. “I want you to come inside me, Gavril.”

He leaned forward, his teeth grazing my chin. “Your wish is my command,

wife.”

Gavril picked up his movements, and soon we were both crying out into the
afternoon as he poured into me. I collapsed against his chest, my heart
beating rapidly in my chest as I tried to pull myself back together.

Good Lord, at this rate, I was surprised I wasn’t already pregnant.

“Well,” Gavril murmured, his hand coming up to stroke my wet hair. “I

think the pool has become my second favorite place in the mansion.”

“What’s your first?” I asked drowsily, too drained to even lift my head.

“Your bed,” he said simply, and my heart melted even further.

***

The next day, I was reading in the study when Gavril walked in. “You’re
early,” I said, putting my book aside and giving him a soft smile.

He didn’t return it, though it was rare that he did outside of sex. “Would you
care to go for a ride?”

My heart lodged in my throat. I was so ready to be out of the mansion for a

little while. “Yes, let me grab my shoes and I will be ready.”

He inclined his head, and I raced up the stairs to my room, gathering a pair
of slip-on shoes and my sunglasses. I was already dressed in a loose-fitting
floral tunic that reminded me of summer and a pair of white shorts, and
though I didn’t have any makeup on, I doubted that Gavril would wait for
me to put a full face on.

So, I opted for a tube of lip gloss and a quick swipe of mascara before
heading back downstairs. Gavril opened the door and we walked out into
the sweltering summer heat, escaping into a waiting car a moment later.

I clasped my hands in my lap as the car wound down from the hill and to
the interstate, wondering where we were going. Honestly, I was too afraid
to ask, and in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if this could
be my final ride.
Quickly, I pushed away the thought. I didn’t think so. I didn’t peg Gavril as
a person who gave up that easily, and not without allowing for some time.

Besides, I didn’t think he was that unhappy right now, but again, he wasn’t
the easiest guy to read.

Soon we were pulling up to an airfield. “Have you ever flown in a

helicopter before?” he finally asked as the car pulled up to a sleek black one
parked on a helipad.

“Once,” I admitted, eyeing the machine. I had flown once before with
another social media influencer to a party right outside of LA. That time I
had been pretty wasted and didn’t remember half the flight. “Is that what we
are going to do?”

Gavril climbed out of the car without responding and I did the same,
finding him waiting at the end of the car for me, his hand extended. I took
his hand and he led me to the helicopter, where he handed me a pair of
headphones. “Put these on.”

I did as he asked and Gavril slid a pair on as well, adjusting his microphone
before helping me into the passenger seat up front. “Where is the pilot?” I
asked lightly, keeping the nervousness out of my voice.

Gavril chuckled and to my complete surprise, he hopped into the other seat,
starting to flip switches.

“You’re flying this thing?” I asked.

He nodded and went back to his preflight checks, communicating with the
tower off in the distance. Considering my life was in his hands, I refrained
from asking any other questions until we were pulling away from the
ground, the helicopter moving up and forward into the late afternoon sky.

I felt my stomach leave with it, swallowing a few times to regain control of
my body as Gavril took us higher over the city, the deep blue Pacific in the
far distance. Once he had the helicopter leveled out, I tore my eyes away
from the scenery below and focused on him instead. “This is amazing.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “I thought you would enjoy the
ride.”

“I really thought you meant a car ride,” I admitted, clasping my hands in

my lap. “When did you learn to fly?”

“You know what they say,” he replied instead, his eyes on the windshield
before him as we flew through some low-lying clouds. “The wealthy are
always looking for something to beat.”

I shook my head, but it was hard to keep the grin from my face. “Will I ever
learn all there is to know about you, Gavril?”

His smile faded, and I realized I had overstepped in my questioning. “I

apologize,” I said into the microphone attached to my headset. “I shouldn’t
have said that.”

“No,” he replied roughly, his hand tightening on the controls that kept us up
in the air. “It’s fine. There are many things you don’t know about me, many
things I’m not willing to share.”

I guess the same could be said of me. I wasn’t willing to tell him that the
woman he thought was tough really wasn’t, that she was afraid of a devil
constantly snapping at her heels.

I would never tell him how that night had made me feel, how embarrassed I
had been. “I understand.”

He looked over. “Would you like to learn how to fly this thing? I could
teach you one day, if you would like.”

Though it wasn’t at the top of my list, I nodded anyway. “Sure, I’m always
up for new things.”
We flew up over the city for nearly an hour before Gavril touched the
helicopter back down on the helipad, shutting off the engine. “I won’t get
out and kiss the ground, I swear,” I joked as I removed the headset. “But
this was wonderful. Thank you so much.”

Gavril removed his headset before leaning over to brush his lips over mine.
“You’re welcome.”

Flustered, I waited for him to open the door before climbing out, my legs a
bit wobbly. Gavril was right there to catch me, tucking me to his side with
his strong arm, and I leaned against him, savoring the moment.

I was supposed to hate him, to not want to be this close to the monster who
had taken me.

But right now, I didn’t hate Gavril at all.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 18
Gavril

“And the other shipments are on time. I think that by the end of the week,
we should be fully stocked and ready for delivery.”

I drummed my fingers on my desk as Anatoly droned on in his report,

filling me in on every shipment that had come in over the last week.

Right now it felt like the last fucking year for as long as he had been
talking.

“Tell me,” I answered once he stopped to take a breath. “Don’t you ever
think about just typing that shit in an email and sending it to me?”

Anatoly glowered at me over the paper pad in his hands. “You know that
emails can be traced and used against you if they are found in a court of
law.”

Fair enough. Still, I arched a brow. “Have you been watching CSI again?”

“Respectfully, Pakhan.” He sighed, placing the pad in his lap. “Fuck you.”

I chuckled, glad to have a moment of just fucking around. The last few days
had been extremely tense, so much so I felt like I had spent more time on
the phone than sleeping. We’d had a couple of ships stopped by customs,
and that had created a shitstorm from there, forcing me to open up my
wallet to pay my way out of the mess before the FBI could get wind.

Probably the reason I was testier than normal was that the issues had pulled
me away from Naomi’s bed, and I hadn’t been properly fucked in at least
five days.

It sucked. “So,” I said instead, stopping my fingers momentarily. “Where

does that leave us?”
Anatoly squinted at the paper. Normally, I would have given him shit about
not wearing his prescription glasses, but I just didn’t have it in me right
now. Besides, the fucker deserved a month-long vacation for what he had
been able to move around for the Bratva over the past week.

Without him, I would have been fucked.

“We should be okay,” he finally said, clearing his throat. “I’ve had the ships
map out another route for now, one that hasn’t been hit in some time. I think
we need to continually shift the routes for the next month or two until the
heat dies down.” He rubbed his forehead, suddenly looking exhausted. “I
think it’s all the shit that has happened over the last few months that has
everyone up in arms. And those fucking fools in Moscow certainly haven’t
made things easier.”

I couldn’t agree more. Between Orlov’s death and the shit that had gone
down with Marchetti, the Bratva was in a state of mess. Me taking the helm
with my wedding to “Sveta” wasn’t going to straighten it out overnight.

To say nothing about that dwarf in the Kremlin beating the drums of war.

“I have more,” I said, holding the best for last.

“Oh?” Anatoly asked, arching his brow.

“Vladimir Surov called me,” I started out, thinking about the phone call I
had gotten earlier. “We are needed at home.”

Anatoly looked surprised. “Now? You think now is a good time to be

heading there?”

I blew out a breath, turning to stare out over the city. “I don’t have a fucking
choice. The shipments are coming in, and before I can allow it to roll out, I
need to inspect it.”

Surov was my man in St. Petersburg, Russia, my birth home and where the
Belaya Bratva had started out. Normally I handled everything over the
phone or through various video conferences, but these shipments were
coming through Ukraine and the Caucasus. And they were too important
not to lay eyes on them first.

“And your wife?” Anatoly asked softly, pushing out of his chair. “What of
her?”

Another thought I had been thinking about all fucking day. I could leave her
behind, knowing that she would be well taken care of by my closest guards
and Vera. I could even leave Anatoly, even though I needed him to be at my
side when I returned to Russia in case shit went down.

He had an ulterior position in the Bratva. In the event that something

happened to me, he had been instructed to shut everything down and
destroy any thought that I had been walking on this earth.

And now he was also charged with getting not only Vera but also Naomi
somewhere safe.

I couldn’t afford to leave him here.

“I’m going to take her with me,” I finally decided. Maybe it was selfish of
me to want to have her at my side, but she was my fucking wife. It was time
that she met the rest of my family, though I had to admit I was nervous
about that particular part.

“Well, you are the boss,” Anatoly finally said. “That should be a happy
reunion then. Before you just show up with a woman on your arm whose
wedding they weren’t invited to, I hope you prep them. Especially Maria
Afanasyevna, charming woman that she is.”

I ignored Anatoly’s barb at my mother. “They know about her,” I answered

darkly.

I had sent word that I had wed Sveta Orlov to cement our family’s name
and fortune, but the woman that lounged in my mansion right now wasn’t
Sveta. I doubted that my mother or my sisters had ever met the real one, but
I had no real desire to explain things to them.

“I will make the arrangements then,” Anatoly finally said. “It will be good
to see home.”

I didn’t answer, and when he left, I turned toward the desk, where paper
littered the surface, begging for my attention. I was fucking exhausted, and
the only thought I had was heading to the mansion. Going home was going
to be draining; I was well aware of that particular bit of information, but it
was necessary.

I couldn’t ignore this.

So, I left the office and winced as I walked out into the sweltering heat of
the LA afternoon, climbing into my own personal Porsche instead of letting
a driver take me home. Occasionally I liked to forgo the formalities of
having guards and drivers for the sake of my own sanity and the peace and
quiet that I needed.

Hell, I needed to do a lot more thinking than I cared to admit, and all signs
right now pointed to the woman who had occupied my thoughts greatly.

On the nights I made it home late, I eased into her bedroom, thinking about
climbing into the bed next to her and losing myself in her warm, willing
body. It wouldn’t be hard to be a selfish bastard, and I knew that Naomi
would open her legs for me. She couldn’t get enough of me, and the feeling
was mutual.

But I couldn’t bring myself to wake her, instead making sure the covers
were over her body before throwing myself into my bed and leaving before
the sun was up. Even Vera had given me a once-over on the rare occasion
she had seen me leave, likely thinking poorly of me for abandoning “Sveta”
like some heartless monster.

My jaw tightened as I zoomed through traffic, heading toward the mansion.

This was the cost of my dreams, of a future that would put me on top of the
fucking world. I knew the sacrifices. I knew what I had to do, and before
Naomi came into my life, it hadn’t been an issue.

And now? Now, she filled my thoughts more than I cared for her to do. She
made me feel, made me want to spend time with her outside of our
arrangement.

I wanted to put a smile on her face. I wanted to hear her laugh.

My hands clenched the steering wheel, the bite of leather into my palms. I
didn’t like the way my thoughts went, not at all.

That hadn’t been the plan, yet Naomi was slowly working her way into my
life, and I felt, well, I felt helpless. This wasn’t some fucker who was
screwing me over. That was an easy fix that would take very little effort to
make go away.

Naomi was my wife, well, at least in the eyes of everyone that had been at
our wedding or had seen the splash of tabloids. There were pictures,
pictures that were grainy but not hard to tell that I’d had the same blonde at
my side on two occasions now: once at the restaurant and once at the
airfield.

That was the original plan.

By the time I pulled the car up to the mansion, I had the entire conversation
planned out in my head. I was sure that Naomi would have a great deal of
questions, questions that I wasn’t ready to answer, but I didn’t have any
concerns about her not going.

After all, she knew I held her life in my hands, and at any moment I could
squash it. That hadn’t changed.

Had it?

I would treat her no differently than the plans I had with Sveta. If she
couldn’t give me a kid by the end of the year, I would have to come up with
something else, and the plan had always been to tuck her somewhere out of
sight, claiming she was sick or some shit so I could move on.

I was married to my position first.

The woman was supposed to come second and be nothing but a part of a
plan.

Vera was hovering near the door when I walked in. “Good evening, master,”
she stated. “I hear that you will be leaving soon.”

“I am going home for a few weeks,” I told her. “I trust you will look after
the house?”

She inclined her head. “Of course.” Her eyes flitted upward. “And Sveta
will be joining you?”

I started up the stairs. “She will.” I didn’t wait to hear her response as I
made my way to the second landing, finding Naomi already walking out of
her suite.

“Gavril,” Naomi stammered haltingly. “I thought I heard your voice.”

My eyes traced her face, then moved down her luscious body, my cock
swelling. Hell, I was starting to think it never went down these days. “Good
evening, Sveta.”

A shadow crossed her eyes though her serene smile remained. It was a look
I had seen many times, like she couldn’t stand for me to call her by another
woman’s name.

Again, part of the fucking plan.

“I have news,” I rushed on, crossing my arms over my chest. “We are going
to St. Petersburg.”

Naomi’s eyes widened. “Florida?”

I fought against the smile that twitched on my lips. “No. Russia.”

“Oh wow,” she breathed, understanding dawning on her face. “I’ve never
been to Russia.”

“St. Petersburg is my birth home,” I explained. “I need to go for business,

and I want you to come with me.”

“Um, okay, sure,” she replied, her Russian stuttering a bit, clearly surprised
that I was even asking. “I don’t have a passport though.”

“Not an issue.” I could have her one in a matter of hours.

Naomi let out a little laugh. “Of course not. Maybe I should have asked for
a million dollars instead.”

That was why I needed her to come with me. Not only was she safer by my
side in Russia, but she was entertaining in more ways than one.

“Pack your things. Call Vera to help. She will know what sort of clothing is
appropriate for a Pakhan’s wife in the old country.”

“Is it cold there?” she asked, biting her lower lip. I groaned inwardly at the
sight, wondering what Naomi would do if I stepped forward, taking that lip
between my teeth instead.

Fuck. Either she was good at teasing me, or she really didn’t know what she
was doing.

“No,” I said, the word sharper than I had anticipated. “St. Petersburg is the
most beautiful city in the world during the summer.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Then I will get some things together.”

I stepped closer, reaching out to brush her hair off her cheek. “You do
understand that you will be going as Sveta. It is imperative that we continue
the plan.”

Her eyes dimmed. “Of course,” she murmured. “The plan.”

My chest tightened suddenly, and I stepped back. “Good.”

She nodded and I walked out of her room, shoving my hands in my pockets
as I made my way to my own suite. As much as I wanted to throw Naomi
on the bed and fuck her until I couldn’t see straight, there were things that I
needed to do to prepare for our trip. I had to ensure that the operations
continued here in my absence because this wasn’t going to be a quick trip.

***

That evening, instead of working, I walked into Naomi’s suite, followed by

Vera with some of the household staff carrying trays of food. Naomi looked
up from the book she was reading, surprise on her face. “What is this?”

“Dinner,” I stated as Vera and her staff set the food up on the balcony. “I
thought we could have dinner together tonight.”

She closed the book and stood, tugging on her shirt. “Of course. I mean,
that’s very kind of you.”

Kind. I fucking hated the word, but I motioned with my hand for her to lead
the way, passing Vera and the staff as we did so.

We stepped out into the balmy night and settled into the comfortable
furniture, a table between us. “Your view will be a great deal different in a
few days,” I remarked as I picked up my already full wineglass.

Naomi looked out over the night, her expression distant. “I can’t wait to see
somewhere different. I always wanted to travel but never had the money for
that.”

I leaned back in the chair. “You are my wife now. Whatever you wish for,
Sveta, I will give it to you.”
“That’s very generous of you,” she murmured.

Another fucking word that didn’t describe me. “You are my wife, Sveta.
The future mother of my child. You will be cared for, and when the time
comes, have everything at your disposal.”

Naomi drew in a breath before she looked at me, her eyes holding emotion I
didn’t want to experience. “Is that what you would have told her, Gavril?”

“Of course,” I said automatically, though the words didn’t feel the same
coming out of my mouth as they had in my head. “You knew what you were
getting into when you married me, Sveta.” Leaning forward, I smirked. “Do
not forget what this is truly about.”

Naomi picked up her wineglass, shuttering her expression as she did so. “To
us,” she announced, holding up her glass. “And the future that is awaiting
us.”

I lifted my glass as well. “To our future.”

Whatever the fuck it was now.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 19
Naomi

I fidgeted as I watched the scenery pass by, wondering exactly where we

were at this moment and what we could be flying over. I knew I could pull
it up on the small screen embedded in the plane’s wall next to me, but
honestly, I was too scared to touch anything.

When Gavril had told me that we were going to Russia, I thought we would
fly commercial.

Why I didn’t know. I mean, I was flying with a Pakhan, a very powerful and
wealthy man who could fly his own damn helicopter at that.

Flying commercial was beneath him.

The private jet was honestly amazing. I hadn’t flown like this before, the
sleek white and black interior matching Gavril’s hot and cold nature. We
weren’t alone for this flight, though. The guard who had taken me the first
time was also with us, though he was sitting near the cockpit, minding his
own business. Anatoly was his name, and Gavril had told me that I could
trust him.

I really couldn’t even trust myself right now, especially not the feelings I
had swirling around inside. It wasn’t about the trip or the fact that I was
about to see another part of the world. No, that I could handle.

What I couldn’t handle was my growing feelings for the man seated across
from me, currently tapping away on his phone. Since we had taken off,
Gavril had spent much of his time on his phone, sometimes speaking
harshly into it in Russian and other times typing away.

I really would hate to be the person on the other end of the phone.

Whatever reason we were going to Russia for, it wasn’t just for a pleasure
trip. Something was wrong, something he hadn’t told me about.
Not that I expected him to do so.

Clearing my throat, I picked up my bottle of water out of the holder and

took a drink. Honestly, I was excited about going to see where Gavril was
born and meet his family. I wanted a chance to put some pieces into place at
what had made him the way he was. He wouldn’t be able to hide his family
or what they might say about him, and I wanted to peel another layer back
about what made him tick.

I wanted to know my husband.

It was a futile cause, of course. Gavril was never going to let me in, would
never let me get truly close to him.

Besides, I was expendable. I might be playing the part of his wife now, but
it didn’t mean that I would be there forever. Once I served my purpose and
gave him the child he wanted, he would likely either kill me or tuck me
away to be forgotten.

He might have promised me the world on the balcony that night, but I knew
he didn’t mean it. He had no intentions of making me truly feel like a
Pakhan’s wife or at least one that was cared for. I really didn’t need the
flashy lifestyle or the ability to travel the world.

I just wanted to be loved. That need had stemmed from my time with Jon
and time with my therapist after the fact. She had told me long ago I was
going to always crave the things I thought I couldn’t have, and love was one
of those things.

For the longest time I thought I wasn’t worthy of love, mainly due to the
horrible way I had been treated by Jon and what he had done to me.

Now I knew that wasn’t true, but watching Gavril as he all but ignored me
today, I had serious concerns that it might still be true. I wasn’t going to get
love and affection out of him. I wasn’t going to have the fairy tale ending
that I imagined.
This marriage wasn’t going to produce any of that, so why was I having
feelings toward Gavril? They had come out of nowhere the night he called
out my name, reinforced that afternoon in the pool, where he had let down
just a tiny bit of his guard to me.

It had me seeing things that weren’t there before.

Finally, Gavril placed his phone on the armrest next to him and picked up
his drink, eyeing me over the rim. “You should get comfortable,” he said.
“We have a long way to go.”

“I am comfortable,” I said with a faint smile. “I will rest in a little while.”

He took a drink, the ice clinking in his glass, and I felt his gaze sear into
mine. “There is a bed in the back,” he finally said, placing his glass in the
cupholder. “For you to stretch out.”

I let out a sharp laugh, unable to help it. “You’re joking, right?” I had seen
the door when I had sat down, but I thought it was a bathroom or
something.

Gavril smirked. “No. I fly in comfort and style, especially halfway across
the world.”

A bed. My cheeks heated at the thought of us both going to that bed, joining
the mile-high club before we got to Russia. Gavril must have noted my
cheeks because his eyes grew heated. “Would you like to see it?” he
murmured, tapping his fingers against his knee.

“Maybe later,” I answered, clearing my throat. “Why is it so important that

we go to Russia now? Don’t you have pressing matters in LA?”

Some of the heat faded, and his jaw clenched. “There is a shipment that
requires my attention.”

“What sort of shipment?” I asked lightly, curious to know what sort of

business Gavril truly was involved in. I knew what I had read on him back
before he had become my husband, but I was sure there were things that not
even the papers and the feds knew about.

Besides, it had to be something very important that would require a trip to

Russia like this.

His expression hardened. “Nothing that you need to be concerned with,

Sveta. That is my fucking business.”

Gavril didn’t elaborate and I swallowed, looking away from the harshness
of not only his expression but also his tone. He hadn’t been harsh like that
in a long time, and it sent a shiver down my spine, a stark reminder of what
sort of man my husband was.

“Forgive me,” I murmured, refusing to meet his gaze.

He didn’t respond and I bit my lower lip, staring out into the fading light of
another day, obscuring my view of what was below us. It didn’t matter. I
was never going to be treated as an equal in Gavril’s life. Heck, I wasn’t
even myself in his world. He didn’t say my actual name. He didn’t even
really treat me as a wife, a partner. It was never his intention to do so.

I was a pawn in his game. I knew that, and perhaps Gavril was reminding
himself as well. We could have all the sex that he wanted to, but it would be
nothing more than sex between us.

After a while, Gavril stood and extended his hand toward me, his
penetrating gaze betraying no emotion. “You are about to fall asleep sitting
up,” he said. “Come on. Let me show you the bed.”

As much as I wanted to ignore his hand, I knew that Anatoly was listening
to us. He would expect me to be submissive to my husband, to be Sveta,
who wouldn’t tell Gavril no for any reason.

So I placed my hand in his and allowed him to help me out of my seat,

leading me to the back of the plane where he opened the door and revealed
a bed, running lights built into the ceiling to illuminate the space. “You can
rest in here,” he stated as I moved into the small space. “No one will bother
you.”

I turned toward Gavril. “What about you?” I asked, even though I felt like
an idiot for doing so.

He seemed surprised by my question. “I will rest in a little while.”

Disappointment threaded through me, but I didn’t let it show. He hadn’t

slept with me up until now; why did I think it would be any different?

“All right.”

Gavril stepped forward, brushing his lips over my temple. “Sleep, Sveta.
You will need your strength.”

“Good night,” I said softly as he walked out, shutting the door behind him.
A well of tears threatened to overcome me suddenly, and I pushed them
back. Now wasn’t the time to cry about things I couldn’t control. Gavril
was right. I needed to pull myself together and remain strong.

I had no doubt that I would need it.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 20
Gavril

I was home.

I sat next to Naomi in the car as it wound through the streets of St.
Petersburg, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of the place of my birth.
I could practically hear the gentle sloshing of the Neva as it wound its way
through the city. It had been at least a year since I had come home, too busy
with the Bratva to come and visit.

It was like nothing had changed. A swirl of memories assaulted me with

each turn of the car, remembering things about my childhood and then
ultimately my teenage years that my mother thought I would never get out
of without dying first.

She had always said that I was hardheaded and on a path to the devil, and
her description of my life wasn’t far off even now.

I was on a path, a destructive path that would lead me right to hell. My soul
was too far gone to be saved, and no amount of prayers was going to
change that.

Still, I knew she prayed for my soul each night, and that was enough.

Naomi was silent next to me, but I could tell that her eyes were soaking in
everything as we passed. From the time I had helped her off the jet, she had
been taking in her new surroundings, likely full of questions she was afraid
to ask.

In fact, we hadn’t said more than two or three words to each other since she
had woken and that worried me. I fucking hated that I was worried about
my wife. That was not the intention, nor would it serve as anything good.

So why did it bother me so much? Why did I want to pull her to my side, to
whisper words of encouragement in her ear?
The car finally pulled through the wrought-iron gates that protected my
family’s property, and I drew in a breath. I should have prepared Naomi
more for this meeting.

The car drew to a halt in front of a large, sparkling fountain, the water
trickling down gracefully from the stone vase in the center. Well-manicured
poplar and maple trees lined the circular drive, and despite the fact that it
was close to midnight here, staff were scurrying about, likely preparing the
house for my arrival.

The door opened and I stepped out, buttoning my suit coat before joining
Naomi on the other side of the car. She had changed clothing on the plane,
wearing a pair of leather pants that framed her ass that stuck out from
underneath the green blouse she wore.

It didn’t matter what she wore. Nothing would be good enough. It never
was.

Still, I reached out and grabbed her hand, wrapping mine around it.

“Remember,” I said softly into her ear. “Russian only.”

She didn’t respond and I walked us up to the open door, stepping inside the
home. It was on some historical record somewhere, old-world Russia
coming out in the decor and the structure. Many times I had tried to sell the
place, but my mother refused to even entertain the idea, stating that it was
one of the more stately homes along the Neva and a memory of what our
family used to be.

So I left it alone.

“Wow,” I heard Naomi remark as we walked through the foyer and to the
formal living room, where the furniture was older than our ages combined.
The less formal living room was in the back of the house, but this one was
used for receiving guests.

“Gavrushka!”
Aleksandra was the first one to reach me, throwing her arms around my
neck and squeezing me hard. “You made it! We have been waiting all day
for you to arrive.”

“You might have,” Katarina exclaimed as she joined us, bumping her sister
out of the way so she could hug me next. “But I haven’t.”

I returned her hug. “What have you been doing then, dear sister?”

She pulled back, a frown on her lovely face. “Making money! I’ve been
trading cryptocurrency.”

“Crypto?” I echoed, arching a brow. “Don’t you need to understand

something before you trade it?”

She scoffed. “So? When has that ever stopped you, Gavrushka?”

She had a point. I reached out and tugged Naomi to my side, watching as
my sisters took in the woman that I had brought with me. I hadn’t brought a
woman into this house in many, many years, and they had both been far too
young to remember that. “This is my wife, Sveta.”

Their eyes rounded. “You got married?” Aleksandra exclaimed. “And you
didn’t tell us?”

I nodded, feeling Naomi tremble at my side. “You will treat her as you
would treat me.”

Katarina rolled her eyes. “We will treat her better. Are you an American?”

The moment of truth. I didn’t change my expression and neither did Naomi.
“She is, so her Russian is rusty. Be patient with her.”

“Your brother thinks my Russian is horrid,” Naomi responded in flawless

Russian, even with a convincing St. Petersburg lilt. It shocked the hell out
of me and I stared at her, dumbfounded at how she had changed her voice
that quickly.

Aleksandra laughed, pulling Naomi into a hug. “Oh, he always thinks the
worst of people! Welcome to our home. I can’t wait to find out all about
America! Gavrushka says that I have to be eighteen to join him in America,
so I have only one more year.”

“Lucky you,” Katarina responded. “I have three.”

I should have never made those deals with my sisters. Mother was never
going to allow them to come to the States, knowing that once they did, they
wouldn’t want to leave.

Hell, I hadn’t.

“Well then,” Naomi responded as Aleksandra released her. “I guess we

should prepare the guest bedrooms just in case.”

“Oh, I like her!” my younger sister laughed, looking at me. “You are very
lucky to have her, brother. Very lucky indeed.”

“I understand he can be a bit difficult,” Aleksandra added, rolling her eyes.

“But he is not entirely without hope.”

I gave her a dark look. Now my own sisters were ganging up on me.
“Enough.”

“That is the truth!” Katarina said as she tucked her arm into Naomi’s. “But
he can be taught to be civil. I swear it. After all, he’s put up with us for his
entire life.”

I watched my wife and my sisters smirk at each other, that familiar tug on
my chest intensifying. A person looking in from the outside would believe
that I had married my wife with my sisters’ blessing and not under some
twisted scheme.
“Do you have any family?” Katarina asked.

I shot Naomi a look, but she only smiled sadly. “I had a brother once,” she
said. “But he died.”

Immediately my sisters comforted her, and I loosened a breath. She had

remembered. I would have to thank her later, but this was only the tip of the
iceberg for her.

She still had to meet my mother. “Has anyone come looking for me?” I
asked instead, catching their attention once more.

Aleksandra’s mouth pulled into a frown. “Yes,” she answered, finally

turning her attention back to me. “An older man came by earlier, asking for
you. I told him you hadn’t arrived yet.”

I reached out and mussed her hair, earning a shriek from her. “Good, good.”
That was Surov, likely making his appearance known so that I would know
he was ready to talk. “I need a favor.”

All three of them looked up at me and I caught Naomi’s eye, finding myself
lost in her depths. When I had shown her the bed on the jet, I had every
intention of joining her, but the moment we walked in the room, I backed
off, not wanting to share that intimacy between us with anyone.

There were the pilots, the flight attendant, and Anatoly on board. Though
the walls were soundproof, knowing that they were all within earshot had
stopped me from stripping off her clothes and giving us both something to
sigh at.

That and there was a hell of a lot of work to do before my arrival. I had
calls to make, meetings to set up, but none of that would have mattered if
she had asked me to stay.

She hadn’t, and I knew why. I had been harsh with her when she had asked
about my shipments, about my fucking business dealings. A small piece of
me had wanted to spill everything to her so she could see what sort of
monster I truly was, but I had refrained.

The last thing I needed was to have her try to run from me while we were
here. She was safer in LA than she was in Russia, and I was going to have a
hell of a time protecting her.

Besides, she didn’t need to know about my business dealings right now.
While I had trusted her so far, I hadn’t given her a lot of insight into my life
and the things I oversaw. That was private information, information that
was only for my inner circle, and the moment I let her into that realm, there
was no turning back.

“I need for you to take your sister-in-law and keep her company,” I finally
said. “And don’t get her into any sort of trouble.”

“She’s safe in our hands, Gavrushka!” My sisters giggled, and I gave them a
true smile. I would do anything to keep them safe.

And now my wife was one of those people.

Fuck.

“Tell Mama that I will be back for dinner after work,” I finished as I closed
the distance between Naomi and me, brushing my lips over hers lightly.

I felt her start of surprise, but before she could react, I pulled away. Naomi’s
lips were parted slightly, a flush coming over her cheeks, and I thought for a
second about dragging her into one of the many bedrooms in this palace of
a home and fucking her against one of the walls.

It had been too long between us, almost a full fucking day since I had
buried myself in her body and just let go.

Instead, I leveled a gaze at my sisters. “I mean it. Keep her here in the
house.”
“You’re the worst!” Katarina rolled her eyes before she made shooing
motions at me. “Go! She is fine with us.”

I looked at my wife. “I will be back.”

“I will be fine,” Naomi insisted. “Be careful.”

Both my sisters sighed, tucking their arms in hers. “You are so lucky to
have Sveta,” Aleksandra said with stars in her eyes. “She’s too good for
you.”

An unfamiliar thread of pride shot through me as I winked at them and

moved back toward the front of the house, where Anatoly waited patiently
for me.

“I take it that your sisters approve of Sveta?” he asked lightly as we walked

out of the house and to the car we had just climbed out of.

“A bit too much,” I admitted before sliding in.

He took the seat up front and the car pulled around the fountain to exit, the
house being left in the rear-view mirror as we pulled out onto the main
road. Once the house was out of sight, I let out the long breath I had been
holding in. We had just arrived in Russia, and already I wanted to leave. It
wasn’t because of my family.

It was because I was worried about keeping Naomi safe and our secret
secure at that.

I thought back to what Aleksandra had said about me being lucky to have
Naomi. She wasn’t wrong. I had played around with the thought myself,
how she hadn’t decided to expose me to everyone she came across before I
could silence her.

Naomi had become Sveta, and for that I was a lucky bastard.
A thought hit me square in the chest. I was thinking of her as Naomi again.
Hell, since I had learned the truth about who she was, had I ever really
thought about her as anyone else?

No, and that could be a problem, a fucking big one.

Clearing my throat, I looked out of the window. Now wasn’t the time to
think about Naomi or Sveta or anything to do with my personal life. I had
business to attend to while I was here, the sole reason I had come home to
begin with.

I had to get my head on straight for this meeting and all the others that
would follow. I was the Pakhan of the Belaya Bratva.

It was time to start acting like it.

“So?” Anatoly asked as the car drove through the streets of St. Petersburg.
“Are we about to go see Surov?”

I smirked, wiping my palms on my pants. “Did you think we’d be doing

anything different?”

Anatoly chuckled, shaking his head. “Just wanted to make sure, boss.”

My smirk remained. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be home for

a little while, to ground myself in what I was and what I used to do, how I
got started. There were all sorts of memories here, good and bad, but all of
them had made me into the man I was today.

Maybe they would help me be reminded of what I was fighting for, why I
had done what I had to get to the pinnacle of the career I wanted.

That was far more important to me than anything else in my life. I had
fought, scraped, and clawed my way to the top.

I just had to stay there.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 21
Naomi

“Come on! There is so much to show you!”

I looked at Gavril’s departing form until I couldn’t see him any longer,
having the strange desire to call him back and not have him leave me here
alone. It wasn’t because of his sisters. They were definitely different from
their brother, but I could still see the family resemblance.

Aleksandra was tall and thin, with long dark hair that brushed her lower
back in perfect long curls. She was dressed casually in a pair of joggers and
a T-shirt but walked around effortlessly in stiletto heels as if she were
wearing sneakers.

Katarina had dramatic blue eyes to match her dark hair, though hers was
fashioned into a chin-length bob that swayed as she walked. She was the
livelier of the two, as the younger one usually was. Her hot pink pants and
bright yellow pullover clearly showed off her personality.

They were both a surprise, and it had been clear to me that Gavril doted on
them, his demeanor completely different when they had greeted us.

I allowed them to pull me down the hall, ogling the expensive wallpaper
and super old knickknacks along the way. Even the oil paintings looked like
something that should belong in a museum. “This place is lovely,” I
remarked as we passed through.

Katarina’s nose wrinkled. “Lovely? It’s full of old shit.”

“Language,” Aleksandra warned her sister, shooting her a look. “If Mama
hears you…”

Katarina promptly ducked her head, and I was intrigued. Gavril’s mother
was here? Would I meet her?
Suddenly, I was super nervous. It was one thing to fool Gavril’s sisters, but
what about his mother? Would she see through our ruse immediately? I
mean, she had to be upset about the wedding already.

Me being here probably wasn’t going to smooth over anything.

Still, I let the girls pull me through the house, showing me their mini suites
along the way. The house itself was like a bunch of small interlocking
apartments situated on the banks of the river. Walking through it, I almost
felt like I was transported back in time.

“This is mine,” Aleksandra stated as she pushed open a door, revealing a

functional sitting room littered with books and papers. “Sorry,” she said
apologetically, a dimple appearing on her cheek. “I’m looking at options for
college.”

I returned her smile. “That’s a very exciting time.”

She blushed, pulling the door shut. “Mama wants me to stay in Russia for
my studies, but I’ve been looking at colleges in the US as well. Since
Gavrushka told me I could join him at eighteen, it makes sense for me to
want to attend college there. Well, that was before you came along.”

I reached out and laid a hand on her arm. “You are still welcome to our
home,” I replied, hoping that I wasn’t overstepping my boundaries. It would
be refreshing to have someone with her exuberance around the mansion,
and I would love to show her around LA, to immerse her into American
culture one day. “I would love to have you come.”

“Let me show you my room,” Katarina butted in, grabbing my arm and
moving me through another set of doorways until we reached hers. She
pushed it open, and I smiled as I saw the hot pink rug and mood lighting
that was strung throughout her living room. “See? Isn’t it awesome?”

“It’s fun,” I said honestly, returning her bright smile. “Are you an artist?”
“That’s right,” Katarina stated proudly. “I’m the creative one. Aleksandra is
the fashionista, and Gavril is musically inclined.”

That floored me. “What?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Katarina asked. “Of course, he wouldn’t. Oh, that
lout! It’s not cool to admit that you can play five instruments, is it?”

I couldn’t imagine Gavril seating himself behind any instrument, to be

honest, but it was yet another layer that was my husband that I had peeled
back. “We haven’t discussed much about our personal lives.”

The sisters’ eyes rounded, and I silently cursed myself for giving them a
reason to question our marriage. “So it was love at first sight then,”
Aleksandra sighed dramatically, placing the back of her hand on her
forehead. “I knew it. The moment I saw you two together, I knew that my
brother was in love with you.”

I almost snorted, pulling it back at the last moment.

Love.

Love wasn’t in the equation of this marriage, and whatever the young girl
saw wasn’t love.

It was more like a warning so that I wouldn’t screw up and reveal the truth.

“Let me show you where you will be staying,” Katarina replied, tugging me
further along the hallway. “You can have Gavrushka’s apartments. Mama
always makes sure to have the cleaning staff keep it ready for whenever he
comes home.”

I realized that they talked a lot about their mama, but no mention of their
father. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I swallowed it. It wasn’t
my business to question his sisters, and likely their father was just like all
the other men in some position of power: off living another life while his
family was at home, oblivious to what was truly keeping their father and
husband away.

Katarina skipped down the hall ahead of Aleksandra and me, and I stopped
briefly at the bank of windows that lined the hallway, giving me a glimpse
of the river outside. My watch told me it was well past midnight, but the
sky was lit up like it was the afternoon instead. Lush greenery covered the
land between me and the river, and I could see moored boats of all different
shapes and sizes tethered to the docks in the distance.

It was lovely.

With a sigh, I moved on through the open door and halted as my eyes
landed on the shiny black piano in the middle of the living room. “This is
Gavril’s?” I asked, running my fingers over the surface.

“It is,” Aleksandra replied softly. “So is the cello. There’s a violin
somewhere around here.”

I moved to the bench, trying to picture Gavril seated there, his long fingers
moving over the ivory keys as gracefully as he moved over my skin. It
wasn’t that I didn’t believe the girls; it was just hard imagining the man I
knew doing something so, well, out of character.

“He has taken lessons all his life,” Katarina replied, her eyes staring at the
piano wistfully. “I can’t believe he hasn’t played for you yet. He would
spend hours playing for us when we were younger.”

“He could have played for the Mariinsky Theatre,” Aleksandra added. “He
was that good. Maybe Gavrushka will take you while you are here.”

I didn’t respond, my heart wrenching in my chest. There were so many

things I didn’t know about Gavril.

“You will stay here,” Katarina finally said, falling on the leather sofa. Like
the other apartments, Gavril’s matched his mood and style, with dark
leather furniture and a large TV mounted on the wall over a fully stocked
bar.

Deep down, I couldn’t help but wonder how many people had seen this
apartment with him, namely of the female form. Had he ever brought
someone back to share this place with him, to play the piano and show off
his many talents?

A spurt of jealousy rose deep down, and I clamped my mouth shut to keep
it from spewing forward. Of course he had. He must have. Gavril was not
just a man of power. He was a man of danger, a man who had needs.

“If your brother wants us to stay here, then we will.”

Katarina suddenly rose from the couch, her eyes wide before she cast her
gaze submissively at the floor.

I watched as Aleksandra did the same, and when I turned, there was a
woman in the doorway, glaring at us. She had dark hair peppered with gray,
severely pulled back off her face and fashioned into a bun at the nape of her
neck. Her clothing was rich with color, her short jacket a deep emerald
green with gold embroidery, matching her deep gold pants. Diamonds
twinkled at her ears and throat, not to mention the large ring on her left
hand.

The scowl, however, was completely and utterly Gavril’s.

“Sorry, Mama,” Katarina said quietly, her head still bowed. “We were too
loud.”

The woman continued to stare at me, her cool gray eyes assessing every
inch of my skin, and I suppressed the urge to shiver under her gaze.

Yet another trait her son had gotten from her. “I’m Sveta Stanislavovna,” I
finally stated, stretching out my hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, and thank
you for allowing me into your home.”
She glared at my hand and I started to sweat under the light sweater I was
wearing, dropping my hand awkwardly to my side.

This woman could melt ice with her stare.

“Maria Afanasyevna.” She took my hand in a light grip.

I felt like I should curtsey or something, but I remained perfectly still as she
looked over my shoulder at her daughters. “Dismissed.”

Both girls wasted no time in leaving the room, squeezing past their mother
without another word.

Maria looked back at me, her eyes assessing again. “You will take tea in my
solarium. Come.”

I was so exhausted, the change in time zones and then the sweet but
overbearing interactions with Gavril’s sisters having sucked the life out of
me, but I wasn’t about to tell his mother no.

After all, she didn’t look like a woman whom you dared to say no to.

Obediently, I followed her further down the hall, desperately trying to

recognize something so I could find my way back once she was done with
me.

That is, if I survived this tea.

Finally, she turned into a room of glass, the windows overlooking the river
below at all angles. The furniture was wrought iron and surrounded by quite
a few green plants. The smell of soil hung heavy in the air. I doubted that
she tended to the plants.

A tray with a samovar sat on the table between two chairs.

“Sit,” she commanded, her voice filling the space.

I waited until Maria took her seat before I took mine, not wanting to break
some sort of etiquette rule I didn’t know about.

She promptly poured the tea and handed me the porcelain cup, the steam
escaping from the hot liquid. Gavril’s mother didn’t offer up anything extra,
not even sugar or honey, and I kept from grimacing, doubting that it was
one of those flavored teas that I had tried before.

At least it wasn’t black coffee.

“I am not a fool,” she finally said after several minutes, her cold eyes still
on me. “You might have fooled my girls because they are children. You
might have fooled my son, who is too stupid to see. But you cannot fool
me. Not a drop of Russian blood flows in your veins, much less Stanislav
Orlov’s.”

Oh my God. What else does she know?

I clenched the cup and its saucer tightly in my hand, wondering what was
going to happen next. Did they shoot liars on the spot? Why couldn’t Gavril
wait until he had introduced me to his mother before running off to do his
business? He was going to come back to a dead wife.

Still, the way she had coldly addressed her children to me, a stranger, didn’t
sit well with me. It was only after hearing her clipped tone that I realized:
she didn’t speak; she issued orders.

“Your daughters are lovely,” I started out, knowing my voice was shaking.
“And your son is brilliant. You should be proud of your children.”

“I don’t need you telling me to be proud of my children.”

Her gaze sharpened, but I refused to cringe. What sort of wife would I be if
I just let her bash him like that? He wasn’t the most perfect person, but
Gavril wasn’t stupid.
“Do you know what my son does for a living?” Maria asked, lifting her cup
to her lips.

I didn’t answer her. Honestly, I really didn’t know all of it. I knew why he
had wanted to marry me, but other than that, Gavril hadn’t shared a lot of
information about his business.

“Of course you don’t.” Maria finished her sip, a smirk on her face. “Gavril
thinks that bringing an American whore to me is going to make me forget
everything that our forefathers have done before him? He might allow his
cock to lead him this time, but he’s not going to ruin everything that we
have done. He will not dishonor our family like this.”

I opened my mouth, feeling downright pissed off that she thought Gavril
was ruining what his forefathers had done. I mean, who even spoke like that
these days?

“I see you have questions,” she replied, surprising me. I watched as she
placed her teacup back on the tray and folded her fingers in her lap. “And I
will tell you what you need to know. Our family was once a great family of
Russia. We dined with czars and married into royalty, led Russia’s armies
from one victory to another.

“And all of it came to an end when the Bolsheviks came. They did not like
the fact that we were their betters. So, they stole what rightfully belonged to
us. Burned what they could not take and killed those who dared to resist.
The ones who lived fell into the hands of the communist state. First Lenin’s
Cheka, then Beria’s NKVD. After torture and endless false letters
confessing supposed crimes against the people, they disappeared into
Stalin’s gulags, hidden among the sea of trees in Siberia.

“There, they were worked to the bone. The weak died, and the survivors
were forced to become a part of the Vory v Zakonev.”

The confusion must have shown on my face, for she shook her head,
muttering under her breath, probably for me to drop dead so she didn’t have
to explain anymore.
Her mouth was drawn into a tight line, and her voice was barely a whisper.
“Thieves,” she said in English. “We became thieves.”

The way she said it made me feel like I was stupid, but I bit my tongue. The
woman clearly hated me, but I didn’t want to give her a reason to hate me
any more than she already did.

“When the Soviet Union collapsed, we started again.” She returned to her
native Russian. “The generations that were left picked up the pieces and
reforged the Kirilenko name in Yeltsin’s and then Putin’s new Russia. It
wasn’t without sacrifice, of course,” she continued, anger stretching over
her expression. “There were others that rose with us, others like your so-
called father.”

Maria spat out the last word like it was poison. I didn’t know why she was
feeding me this information. Maybe she was trying to scare me away.

Given everything I had gone through over the last few weeks, she was
going to have to try harder.

Maria stood suddenly, and I hurried to place my cup on the tray. “My
husband was killed a decade ago,” she replied, reaching out to touch the
leaf of the nearby plant. “In a crossfire that should not have taken his life.
That forced my son, my only son, to step into a position that he wasn’t
ready for.”

My breath caught as I thought about Gavril, grieving the loss of his father,
now forced to assume control of his family’s empire. No wonder he was
like he was today. It wasn’t just because of his cold mother but because of
the weight that had been on his shoulders at such a young age.

“My son wasn’t ready,” she seethed, dropping her hand, something ugly
crossing her face. “I had to keep him alive, to keep my girls from being sold
for their innocence.” She turned to me. “So, I sold myself to my husband’s
scheming brigadiers to keep my children alive, taking the brunt of what
needed to be done. When the time was right, I killed the men who defiled
my body. And I took delight in making them hurt.”

I drew in a sharp breath as her words slid over me. It wasn’t too far off from
what I had endured, and suddenly I realized that I was in the presence of a
very dangerous woman.

Maria lashed out with her hand and grabbed my arm painfully, her perfectly
manicured nails digging through my sweater.

“Do not betray my son,” she said softly, her voice laced with steel. “If you
do. You will not fear the Bratva coming after you. You will fear me.” Her
cruel smile had my knees weakening. “And I can make you hurt in ways
you can’t even imagine, devushka.”

I believed her. It wasn’t the way she said it—more so the look in her eye.
She would do whatever she wanted to me without giving it a second
thought. Her conscience would not be heavy with her sins, not for her
family’s sake.

“I won’t betray him,” I forced out, looking her in the eye. “I’m on his side,
your side. I want to protect him just as you do.”

As I said the words, I realized I was telling the truth. I didn’t want to see
Gavril hurt and had a sneaky suspicion of why. I could keep on lying to
myself, but the truth was there, and I didn’t know how I felt about it,
honestly.

Maria laughed bitterly and finally let my arm go. “Words are cheap.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. “I swear to you then,” I answered, my voice
wavering from fear of what this woman could do if it came down to it. I
would sit and process all of this later on and probably be terrified, but right
now, she needed to see that I could stand toe to toe with her. “That I am not
out to hurt your son or your family.”
“We shall see, devushka.” Maria just smirked, moving toward the door.
“Come. I will show you back to where you can await my son.”

***

Once alone, I crumpled onto the sofa, my heart hammering in my ears.

Maria was the most frightening woman I had ever encountered, and now
she was my mother-in-law. Some people said their mothers-in-law were
devils or monsters, but I bet no one held a candle to her.

Drawing in a breath, I rested my head against the sofa, suddenly drained.

I hadn’t liked the way she had put her family down. But after hearing how
she’d traded her body and dignity to ensure their survival, I couldn’t
necessarily be upset with her. If what she had said was true, she had given
everything to keep her family safe, to keep the Kirilenko name at its fullest
potential so that Gavril could have that position one day.

A strong woman, if not terrifying.

God, I wanted Gavril to come back. I wanted to see him, to have him wrap
me in his arms so I wouldn’t feel so alone at this moment. It hurt to know
what this family had endured, but also the fact that Maria didn’t believe our
story.

I needed to talk to Gavril, to warn him about what his mother knew so that
he could figure out what he wanted to say.

So that we could figure out what we were going to do.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 22
Gavril

I walked into the building, Anatoly at my heels, and ignored the men
gathered. Word had gotten around that the Pakhan was back in Russia, and
my whereabouts were now public knowledge.

In a sense, the streets around the car were clogged with people, some
wanting to talk to the Kirilenko leader for business or patronage. It always
happened whenever I came home that people who wanted money, drugs,
women, or a business alliance would find me and try to discuss matters.
Sometimes I set up meetings with a few worthy men or women, trying to
keep the peace among my own people before heading back to America.

Tonight, I wasn’t there to do that. “Pakhan,” one of the men near me said,
inclining his head. “Right this way.”

Anatoly moved to my side, his hand touching the gun at his hip as we
moved to the elevator, piling in a moment later. While we were on our
home turf, it didn’t mean that the threats stopped there. There were rivals,
even in St. Petersburg, that would love nothing more than to get their hands
on me.

The elevator moved effortlessly up to the second floor and opened to an

opulent room with dark red walls and even darker flooring. A man stood at
the window, turning as we entered.

“Good to see you, Pakhan,” he replied, giving me a nod. “I am honored you

came in person.”

“Surov,” I replied, returning his nod. “I hope that my trip here is fruitful.”

“It should be,” Surov answered, motioning to the table where a bottle of
vodka sat and two glasses. “Shall we?”

I seated myself in the chair, and Surov did the same, pouring us both a
healthy swallow of vodka. “To a good shipment,” he announced, holding up
his glass.

I held mine to his until the glass clinked together. “A good shipment.”

We both took a drink before settling our glasses back on the table. “They
arrived yesterday,” he continued, resting his arms on the table. “All healthy
and a good mix. Ukrainians, Georgians, and even some golden-eyed
Chechens. No one under sixteen, as requested.”

I nodded. “Good. I will want to inspect them, of course.”

He smirked and pulled out his phone, sending a quick text before placing it
back in his pocket. “Of course. After all, it is your money and reputation on
the line.”

It was both of those things. The shipment was a group of women, no older
than twenty but no younger than sixteen. They would be moved to the
States for distribution however I saw fit. It was a transaction I had done
numerous times, all with the same process and results.

The elevator dinged, and I watched as the women moved out into the room,
nearly filling it up. There were a few who met my eye, lifting their chins in
defiance and reminding me of another woman in my life.

Others ignored me altogether, looking elsewhere, and there were a few that
stared at their feet, visibly shaking.

My chair scraped across the floor as I pushed it back, standing. Surov

joined me as I walked to the first girl, grasping her chin lightly to stare into
her eyes. “Open your mouth,” I told her.

She had no choice but to do so. I inspected her teeth before releasing her
chin.

“Turn around.”
Meekly, she did as ordered. There were some in the business that were
brutal to their shipments, forcing them to strip so that they could inspect
everything about them. Some would even take certain liberties like testing
for virgins since those fetched a higher price.

I didn’t need any of that. All I wanted was healthy ones, and a simple look-
over was sufficient for now.

Once I had gone down the line, I looked back at Surov. “Acceptable.”

He grinned, likely already seeing the dollar signs that he would get paid for
a good shipment. “Excellent.”

I looked back at the women, a mixture of worry and unease in my gut. I had
done this many times, but this was the first time I wanted to send them back
downstairs, back to their rooms and back to their families. Some reminded
me of Naomi and what she would think if she knew what I was doing.

It had never bothered me before, but right now, I didn’t like myself. “Send
them away.”

Surov clapped his hands, and the women filed back to the elevator as I
assumed my seat at the table, pouring more vodka into my glass to burn
away the unease in my gut. Once we were alone again, save Anatoly
lounging in the corner, Surov turned to me.

“I’ve heard that you are bringing together the Krasnaya and Belaya
Bratvas.”

“Not bringing them together,” I told him, picking up my glass. “I’m

absorbing the Krasnaya. They will cease to exist.”

“Righting the wrongs of history?” Surov laughed, draining his glass. “Well,
that should be an interesting development.”

“These women are a part of my plan,” I told him. “A show of good faith to
the remaining brigadiers so that they can see that they have nothing to lose
in this new union of ours.”

I would give the women to those that had given their loyalty to me during
the wedding and afterward, hoping that I would bring others on board once
word spread. Some were just greedy, wanting more than they deserved, but
I needed to not have them stray.

Not until I could ensure that they were on my side and loyal to my cause.

“I heard of your wedding,” he replied evenly. “My congratulations once

more.”

I frowned, thinking about Naomi and how I had left her to fend for herself
against my family. My sisters would do nothing but overwhelm her with
their questions, as they did me whenever I came home to visit, but I was
more worried about my mother. She wouldn’t have waited until I got back
for me to properly introduce Naomi.

No, my mother would want to seek Naomi out for herself, in some twisted
test to see if she was worthy of the Kirilenko name.

I shouldn’t have left her. I also couldn’t have brought her with me, but just
knowing that I had pretty much given her to the wolves didn’t sit well with
me.

“Pakhan?”

Realizing Surov was talking to me, I cleared my throat. “Send me a copy of

the cargo manifest,” I said, not caring what he had said. “And I want the
women delivered safe and unharmed. If there is any injury on them, if they
do not have sufficient water, food, and air in that container, I will hold you
personally responsible.”

Surov didn’t respond as I pushed back my chair for the final time to stand.
Anatoly was there in a minute, and if he saw anything different about me,
he didn’t comment as we rode down the elevator and climbed back into the
car.
 ***

By the time we returned home, I was itching to find my wife, to ensure she
was safe and unharmed. I found her in my apartment, sitting on the sofa,
and for a moment, I soaked in the sight of her, feeling some of my anxiety
lessen.

When she turned her tear-stained face to me, my anger fired.

“What happened?” I demanded.

Her arms were wrapped around her middle as she rose from the sofa. “Your
mother is what happened. She isn’t a nice person, Gavril.”

I knew it. I didn’t even know what she had done, and it didn’t surprise me.
“What did she say?”

With a sob, Naomi hurried across the room and I caught her in my arms, not
caring about whether or not she took my action another way. “Tell me,” I
said gently, my hand running down the length of her back.

She did, her words muffled as she pressed into my chest. I caught that my
mother had told our sordid family history, pretty much calling Naomi a fake
and a whore who was only out to get me. With each confession, I could feel
the noose getting tighter around my neck, wanting to berate my mother for
what she had done to make Naomi feel “welcome.”

That bitch.

Finally, after her words ran dry, I pulled back to look into her eyes. “You
understand that you are my wife. No one, and I mean no one, is going to
hurt you.”

“Is it true?” she whispered, her eyes searching mine. “What she said?”
I wanted to lie to her. For the first time, I wanted to lie about who I was and
who my family was. But I couldn’t. Not to her. Not now.

“Yes.”

Naomi sucked in a breath. “Oh God.”

I framed her face with my hands, desperate to try to make her understand
that she was mine. I was going to protect what was mine. “I will defend you
with my life,” I said softly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheeks
with my thumbs. It was the only vow I could give her.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 23
Naomi

I heard the words coming out of Gavril’s lips, but more importantly, I saw
them reflected in his eyes. He truly would protect me.

Not Sveta, but Naomi Spencer. Even if he didn’t say it, I believed that was
who he was talking about anyway.

So, I stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips over his, wanting to be close
to him again. When we were having sex, we were on the same page.

He groaned and took over the kiss, though his movements were gentler than
they had been in the past.

Almost like he cared.

Tears sprang to my eyes, but I refused to shed them, forcing myself to focus
on Gavril’s kiss. His lips roamed over mine, seeking, tasting each and every
corner until I gasped and he swept in, dominating the play of our tongues.

His hands slid around me, and he held me against him, kissing me until I
had to pull away, breathing heavily. “I haven’t seen your bedroom yet,” I
panted, earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, let me rectify that,” he answered, tugging one arm loose to lead me
toward the open door. Unlike all the others I had seen, his bedroom was
more modern, still sleek with the dark color choices that I was certain his
mother had nothing to do with.

The comforter was red, blood red, but I didn’t have much time to look at
anything else because Gavril had me in his arms again and was kissing me
like he was a starving man. When I tried to grab for his cock, he captured
my hand, bringing it up so that he could tear his lips away long enough to
press a kiss to my wrist. “No,” he murmured.
He intended to take this slow when all I wanted to do was bend over and
take it roughly from behind.

What a strange turn of events.

Gavril reached for the hem of my sweater and tugged it over my head,
exposing my lace bra underneath. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes
heating with passion.

“Please,” I begged him. “Please say my name.”

Arching a brow, he took a step back. “What do you want, Naomi?” he

whispered roughly.

I warmed at the sound of my name on his lips.

“You,” I admitted, my body on fire for his touch. “I want you. I need you.”

He seemed to understand what I was saying and nodded to my clothing.

“Take it off.”

I quickly did as he asked, watching as he also disrobed until we were both

naked.

“How do you want me to have you?” he asked, his cock jutting out from his
body. “Tell me.”

I whimpered at the sight, my lower half flooding with wetness. “I want you
to bend me over and fuck me from behind.”

Gavril’s eyes grew darker and more intense than I had ever seen before. I
could trust him. I knew in my heart that he wouldn’t hurt me.

He had said himself that I was safe with him, and it was time for me to start
believing it. “Bend over the bed, Naomi,” he replied, taking his cock in his
hand and stroking it lightly.
My legs were shaking as I moved to the bed and did as he asked, feeling the
softness of the comforter brush across my already erect nipples. Every part
of my body tingled with what was going to happen, and I tried to find the
fear or terror in my thoughts.

I found none.

Gavril came up behind me and his hand traced my spine, cupping one curve
of my ass. “You are perfect in every way,” he said as his fingers danced
over my skin, dangerously close to my wet center. “You are mine.”

I was his. It was more than just being married to him. I was his in so many
ways that it scared me.

Gavril nudged my legs apart and I felt him probe my entrance with his
fingers, stroking the swollen flesh until I was moaning under his touch. I
didn’t care who heard us or if his mother was standing at the door, watching
her son fuck me hard.

At this moment, this was between us, and that was all that mattered.

“You are so wet,” Gavril replied, his fingers tracing my slit from front to
back, dragging his fingers through the wetness. “So ready for my cock. Are
you ready for my cock, Naomi?”

“Yes,” I breathed, pushing against his hand. “Please.”

“I do love it when you beg,” he said, his cock replacing his fingers. I
groaned as he pushed into me, my body welcoming the intrusion greedily.
This was what I wanted.

This was what I needed.

“Fuck,” he growled, sheathing himself all the way in. “I can’t.” He didn’t
finish as I clenched around him, holding him in place before he could move.
I wanted to savor the moment, the feel of his cock all the way inside me,
touching me to the core.
When he did move, I felt my walls tremble with need, the scrape of his
silken skin against mine nearly too much to bear. I arched against Gavril
and his hand found my breast, gripping it painfully. “Fuck, yes,” he said as I
met him thrust for thrust, my body shaking with need. “Come for me.”

One more thrust, and I gasped his name as my entire body fell into
shuddering warm waves. My legs shook against the bed as he shoved into
me. The pleasure was too much, and when he pulled at my hair, I shook
even more.

“Yes,” I cried out, the sound of our bodies slapping together only fueling
the flames.

I felt safe, but also, I felt powerful. Gavril made me feel so many things.

His pounding brought me to another orgasm, and I felt myself flood his
cock, wishing I could turn around to look at his expression as I did so. His
movements became frenzied, and I knew he was close.

His hands slid to my waist and he pulled me back against him, my name on
his lips as he stiffened and poured inside me, my heart pounding in my ears.

My body was slick with sweat, and when Gavril rested on my back, I could
feel the same sheen of sweat on his body. Good God, what had we done?

For a moment we didn’t move, my body pressed into the comforter, his
cock still inside me, and I was afraid to even utter a sound, not wanting to
spoil the moment. Gavril, even in his dangerous and powerful self, was
healing me, and he had no idea that he was doing it.

Finally, he groaned and pulled away, leaving me to force myself onto my

shaky legs. He thrust a hand through his hair, the scruff of his beard
standing out more in the dim lighting.

“You must be exhausted,” he murmured.

“You too,” I answered, finding my sweater and sliding it on. “Care to try
out the bed for a few hours?”

He gave me a single nod, and my heart leaped in my throat. Gavril was

going to sleep with me. “Give me a second.”

I watched as he walked into the bathroom before I hurriedly located my

underwear and climbed underneath the covers, sighing as I felt the softness
of his mattress fold around me. I was exhausted horribly. I didn’t have any
strength left in me. What were the next few days going to bring here?

What was Gavril going to say to his mother? That worried me the most. The
last thing I needed was the woman hating me even more, but Gavril
deserved to know what he was up against once they talked.

I was almost asleep when I felt Gavril climb into bed next to me, his weight
causing me to roll his way. His arm reached out and pulled me to his side,
and I sighed as I laid my head on his shoulder, not believing that we were
really lying in bed together.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice rough.

I closed my eyes against the onslaught of sudden tears.

“Yes.” There were more things to worry about than me being comfortable
right now.

I was more worried about the emotions tugging my heartstrings, the feeling
of needing to protect him not only from the world but his own family.

“Me too,” he said softly, surprising me.

Oh God. What the heck was going on? I wasn’t going to survive this. I
wasn’t going to come out with an intact heart once this was all said and
done.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 24
Gavril

“Everything is in place with the shipment. It will leave today.”

I held the phone to my ear, staring out of the bank of windows that gave me
the best view of the river as the sun rose. “If anything is wrong with that
shipment when it arrives in LA, I will hold you personally responsible.”

“Of course, Pakhan.” Surov laughed. “I will not fail.”

I ended the call before he could say anything else and tucked my cell phone
back into my pocket. I had thought bringing Naomi here would be good for
her. But now, after what she’d told me last night, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Sighing, I let my shoulders slump momentarily and drummed my fingers

against my thigh. So much was riding on this shipment. Not only my
personal future, but the future of the Belaya Bratva as a whole. I needed the
Krasnaya brigadiers to be on my side, and delivering this shipment of
women to them was going to be the only olive branch I would extend.

A token of goodwill so that they would believe I was looking out for their
best interests.

Because the last thing I needed was a coup from within.

I took a sharp breath and stared at the languid waters of the Neva as the
endless summer sun teased the horizon.

Had my father stood in this very spot and contemplated his next steps? Had
he worried about his own future? His family’s future?

For the first time in a very long time, I missed him.

This entire house was full of ghosts. The happiness was muted because of
my mother and her tyrannical ways. And as much as I would have loved to
take my sisters back with me when we returned to LA, she would never let
them go. She’d seen enough in her years to abandon the naivety of trust.

She’d swallowed her pride to keep us alive. And she’d do anything to keep
my sisters from falling into the same trap she had.

Which meant she would never let them do anything that didn’t fit into her
view of what our world and our lives were supposed to be like.

I should have expected her to interrogate Naomi. No one could ever live up
to my mother’s expectations. The sheer horror on Naomi’s face had told me
everything I needed to know.

What have you told her, Maria Afanasyevna? I wondered. Did you tell her
how you sold your body for your children? Did you threaten her with that
familiar cruelty every Russian woman knows?

I’d heard those stories more times than I would have liked, especially when
she felt the need to remind me that it had been she who had put me in this
powerful position, not my father. And each time she would remind me of
the grim reality of our people: a thousand years of suffering in our veins,
and every generation must have its due.

But she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered. I had my own fucking pain.
We all did.

Turning away from the circling sun, I walked back into my apartment and
moved to the bedroom. My apartment was my sanctuary. It was off-limits to
my mother, both in visiting and decorating. And for better or worse, she
respected these boundaries.

Naomi would be safe here, but I couldn’t keep her cooped up in the
bedroom forever. My mother would find other ways to force me to conform
to her will.

When I approached the bed, Naomi was still curled under the comforter. A
peculiar tightening crossed my chest as I gazed down at her. Somewhere
along the way, she had become Naomi and not Sveta to me. Maybe it was
the driving need to protect her or the fact that she met me on even ground
with the same insatiable thirst I had.

Maybe she had been put in my path for a purpose bigger than I had
imagined.

Either way, she was mine. I wasn’t about to give her up to please my
mother. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Easing into the bed beside her, I brushed the hair out of her face and was
rewarded with the crinkle of her nose as she slumbered on. She made me
feel things, things that I shouldn’t feel. It was more than just the animal
satisfaction of sex. I knew that for a fact.

But the very thought that she made me feel terrified me. Because to feel
was dangerous in my world.

Taking her as my wife was dangerous enough, especially since everyone

still believed she was Sveta Orlov. As Sveta, she could be used against me
as a pawn by my enemies, or worse, as a pawn to destroy my Bratva. But it
would be manageable. The rules of the game would be the same as they had
always been.

But Naomi Spencer? Naomi Spencer could rip apart everything my family
had suffered for.

A different Gavril from just a few weeks ago would have given her up
without a second thought. Maybe even put a bullet in her brain to tie up the
loose ends.

But now?

That was no longer an option. I was too driven by my plans to have it all.
And now I was suffering the consequences of that decision in more ways
than one.
A thousand years of suffering in our veins, indeed.

I ran a possessive hand down her back, savoring the feel of her soft skin
against my calloused hands. Her eyes fluttered awake and dreamily focused
on me. For a moment, she gave me a soft smile and I wanted to climb back
into bed with her to grow that smile into those addicting breathy sighs I
craved, or the throaty cries of pleasure each time I buried myself deep
inside her.

My cock pressed against my pants, but I willed it down. We didn’t have

time to fuck right now.

“Good morning,” she said sleepily, snuggling against the pillow, her hand
reaching out to grasp mine. I let her, and swallowed a few times to tamp
down my racing heart. Fuck me. What I wouldn’t give for her to touch me
like this for the rest of my life.

“It’s time to get dressed,” I said instead, dropping my touch from her body
and dislodging her hand from mine. This wasn’t the sort of union I wanted
between us. This was something that I wasn’t sure I could deal with. “We
are due at breakfast.”

Naomi closed her eyes, and I watched as she stretched like a cat.

“It’s with your mom, isn’t it?” she finally asked.

The distaste in her voice nearly brought a grin to my lips, and I stood
abruptly to hide it from her. “She will be there, yes.”

“She doesn’t like me,” Naomi replied as she swung her legs over the side of
the bed. “And I think the feeling is mutual. I’m sorry, Gavril. I know she’s
your mother. But she’s horrible.”

I put some distance between us, mainly because if I came close to her again,
there’d be no way we’d leave the bedroom today.

“She can be difficult,” I said.

Naomi laughed softly as she located her suitcase and pulled it on top of the
bed.

“Difficult is having to go without In-N-Out for a week in order to get the

role you have always wanted to play. Your mother is on a different level.”

I smiled, unable to help it. “I’m certain you can handle her.”

She shot me a look as she pulled out some clothing. “I’m not so sure. I
think she eats small children for breakfast.”

The laugh escaped me before I could rein it in, and Naomi’s eyes widened.

“You did it again,” she said. “You laughed.”

“I did not,” I said immediately, feeling a dull flush of embarrassment creep

over my face. “A Pakhan does not laugh.”

Naomi walked over to me, still wearing one of my T-shirts she had thrown
on last night, the hem barely scraping the top of her thigh. My cock roared
to attention at the thought of stripping off the T-shirt and finding her naked
underneath.

Wet and ready for me.

“No,” she accused, pushing a finger into my chest. “You laughed. Do it

again so I can record the sound for when you decide to go big bad Bratva
boss on me.”

Fuck, she was infectious. I grabbed her finger lightly and brought it up to
my lips, watching as her eyes grew heated as I rubbed my tongue against
the pad of her finger. “What if we do what we did last night instead and
record that?”

Her lips parted. “Gavril, we aren’t going to get to breakfast on time like
this.”
“You’re right. We won’t.” I dropped her hand. “Get dressed, and if we
survive breakfast, then I will take you out on the river.”

I wanted some time alone with her, and now that we were in this house, my
mother’s ears and eyes seemed to be everywhere.

“Really?” Naomi asked. “Just the two of us?”

“On one condition,” I replied, walking to the door that connected the
bedroom to the living room. “You need to get dressed.”

I didn’t wait for her response, wondering why the hell I felt like I was
walking on clouds at making her happy this morning.

Or teasing her.

Or laughing with her.

She was supposed to be a tool.

And now she was going to be my ruin.

When she walked out, I gave her outfit a cursory glance before leading her
to breakfast. I had been told that we would be in the formal dining room
this morning. When we arrived, it was clear that we were late.

“Good morning, Gavrushka,” Katarina said brightly from her chair, her
plate already full of food. “And Sveta.”

Naomi’s hand tightened in mine, and I gave her a brief squeeze as my

mother looked both of us over, her sharp eyes betraying nothing.

“Good morning,” I said as I led Naomi over to the chair, pulling it out for
her. “I trust that you are all well?”
“What about you, Gavrushka?” Aleksandra stated, arching a brow. “Are
you well? Did you get enough sleep last night?”

Naomi’s cheeks pinkened and I scowled at my sister, knowing full well

what she was going after. It had been a long time since I had brought a
woman home. And we hadn’t exactly been quiet last night.

A long time. “I slept like a baby,” I told her, winking as I took the seat next
to Naomi.

My mother cleared her throat. “Eat. Before it gets cold.”

My sisters dutifully did as they were told, but I lounged in the chair instead,
watching as Naomi was handed a plate.

“Gavril,” my mother stated firmly, displeasure on her face. “What about

your breakfast?”

“I’m waiting for my wife to eat her fill,” I told her, and poured a cup of
coffee for myself. “She needs it for strength.”

Naomi coughed and reached for her water, but I kept my eyes on my
mother. She wanted to intimidate my wife, but I wasn’t going to let her. I
wasn’t going to let her feel like she had some sort of power over me either.

I was no longer the child who clung to her skirts whenever I skinned my
knee. I was the Pakhan of the Belaya Bratva. And it was high time she was
reminded of that.

“Enough,” my mother barked. “Eat.”

“Konechno, Ma,” I replied. But inwardly I smirked as I rested my arm on

the back of Naomi’s chair so that my fingers could graze the bare patch of
skin at the nape of her neck. I felt her shiver under my touch, and it made
me feel like a fucking king.

Because that was what Naomi did to me.

She made me feel.

***

“This is your boat?” she asked as I helped her board my boat.

“One of many,” I told her. It was one of many smaller boats I owned,
perfect for cruising down the canals of the Neva.

That, and I didn’t need any additional staff to do so.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said.

I went through the checks, watching out of the corner of my eye every
move that Naomi made. She had changed into a blousy top and a pair of
shorts that showed off her already tanned legs, her hair down around her
shoulders, and a big pair of sunglasses on her head. The weather was warm
enough for a bathing suit, but I didn’t think I could take the tease of her
having wear one right now.

After undoing the ropes that kept the boat tied to the dock, I fired up the
engine and backed it out from the dock and steered it toward the open
waters of the canal. The wind whipped at my hair, and I felt some of the
tension ease from my shoulders as we got further away from the house.

Naomi came to sit next to me in the passenger seat. I waited until we were a
good distance away from the other boat traffic before I idled down the
engine and reached under the wooden cabinet next to me for the fridge.

She arched a brow as I handed her a beer, topping off the top for her. “You
really have thought of everything, haven’t you?”

I sat in the captain’s chair as the boat bobbed in the water. “I’ve been
known to be prepared for anything.”
Naomi laughed, tipping her beer toward me. “Well then. I can’t complain
about that, nor can I let it go that you look like a normal person right now.”

It was my turn to arch a brow. “A normal person?”

She gestured toward the clothing I was wearing. I had traded the suit for a
pair of khaki shorts and a gray T-shirt, my loafers beaten up from many
years of wearing them. I also had on a pair of aviator sunglasses, but unlike
Naomi, I was still fully armed, an array of knives tucked into my shorts in
case we came across someone who might want to do us harm.

Anatoly had balked at me going on the boat alone. But I wanted to be alone
with Naomi for a little while, to return the smile to her face after my mother
had tried to erase it.

“I am nowhere close to a normal person,” I finally said.

This elicited another peal of laughter from her. “You know. Normally, I’d
agree with that statement. But why didn’t you ever tell me that you were a
musician?”

Fuck. My sisters had been running their mouths again. “Because it didn’t
matter.”

“You were apparently supposed to be famous,” she continued. “Why didn’t

you continue with your music, Gavril?”

I slid a hand through my hair, staring out over the water. “Because it didn’t
fit any longer. Those thoughts died with my father.” I remembered the day I
had destroyed my cello in a fit of rage, hating that the future I had dreamed
of was nothing but that. A dream.

I hadn’t picked up an instrument since.

She took a sip of her beer, and we sat there for a few minutes in silence.
“This is nice,” Naomi finally said, tipping her head back to let the sun on
her face. “I could live like this forever.”
I watched her, realizing I could give her that. I could keep that smile on her
face like it was now. “You should see this place in the wintertime,” I said
softly, my eyes roving over her form. “Sometimes you can see the auroras
across the sky.”

Naomi eyed me, her lips parting. “Really? I’ve never seen them. There was
a time that I was going to go to Alaska to see them, but the trip fell through.
God, I bet they are gorgeous.”

“They are,” I replied, my throat working. “And maybe you can come this
winter to see them.” Once the words left my mouth, I found myself
surprised. Bring her back? Was I implying that I wanted to bring her back
as my wife again?

The words were not lost on Naomi either, and she cleared her throat. “I
think I’d like that.”

“Then we will do it,” I blurted out.

I would do anything to make her happy, I realized. And a splash of cold

reality doused me.

This was more than just her satisfying me in bed. More than her giving me
what I wanted from my plan. More than her making me feel.

This was something deeper.

And that was far too dangerous.

For me and for her.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 25
Naomi
One week later

I turned in different directions in front of the mirror, checking my outfit.

“I think it’s great,” Katarina said, her legs swinging as she sat on the side of
the bed. “You look great. More than great, actually. You look hot.”

“Gavrushka will not be able to keep his hands off you,” Aleksandra added,
winking. “Not that I think he ever had a problem with that.”

I blushed as I turned to the two younger girls. They weren’t far off from the
truth. Despite my cold one-on-one meeting with Maria, my time in Russia
had been nothing but amazing. Gavril was incredibly attentive, taking me
on boat rides with just the two of us or taking me out to dinner so that I
could see more of his home city.

And St. Petersburg was truly a beautiful city. Growing up, I had imagined
all of Russia to be a dreary, gray place. But Gavril had shown me a city that
was vibrant and alive. And under his watchful eye and careful guidance, I
could almost have believed that we were in America.

Tonight, we were going to the Mariinsky Theatre, the very place that he had
once had aspirations of playing in. I was looking forward to seeing his face
when the music started and how different he would be.

But at the same time, I didn’t look forward to being Sveta again tonight.

When it was just the two of us, either in the bedroom or on the boat, I could
be Naomi. And he didn’t try to correct me when I spoke English, even
calling out my name a time or two himself.

But in public, I had to resume my role, even if all I wanted was for him to
see me as the woman whom he hadn’t expected to be with. All I wanted
was for him to admit that I was the woman who could love him.
If only he would let me.

Ugh. I was in love with Gavril, and it terrified me. How I would give
anything right now to talk to Ilsa! She would know exactly what to say, to
either tell me to run or reassure me that it wasn’t a bad idea to fall in love
with a Bratva Pakhan.

My stomach fluttered wildly as I smoothed down the lace top, an off-the-

shoulder number that stopped right above my belly button, leaving a patch
of skin before the black satin skirt fell gracefully to my feet. Instead of
black pumps, I had chosen a fiery red pair of heels to match my lipstick. My
hair was swept over to the side in riotous curls.

I did feel hot.

The door to the bedroom opened and Gavril walked in, his intense gaze
roving over my body and igniting me from within.

Just a single look. That was all it ever took to cause my stomach to tighten.
That was all it ever took for my nipples to harden under the strapless bra I
was wearing and my lower half to flood with slick wetness.

“Well, Gavrushka?” Katarina demanded of her brother. “What do you

think?”

“Gorgeous,” he said in that satiny smooth accent of his. “But she’s missing
something.”

“I am?” I asked, biting my lower lip nervously. “Is it the shoes? Are they
too much?”

He shook his head and walked closer to me, reaching into his pocket to
withdraw a flat box. “Here,” Gavril replied, handing it to me. “For you.”

Surprised, I took the box from him and opened it, gasping as I saw the
contents.
“Gavril…”

“You can’t go to the theater without diamonds,” he murmured, pulling out a

diamond pendant the size of my pinky finger. “May I?”

I nodded, unable to find the words to properly thank him, and he settled the
pendant against my bare skin, his fingers brushing the back of my neck
before he stepped back. “Put the rest on,” he told me.

“Diamonds,” Aleksandra sighed, resting her chin in her hand. “You know
how to woo them, dear brother.”

He chuckled as I fastened the diamond studs in my ears and the diamond

bracelet on my wrist, my fingers shaking. I didn’t even want to think about
how much I was wearing tonight. Way more than I myself could afford, that
was for sure.

Katarina jumped from the bed and handed me my clutch. “Have fun.” She
grinned and hugged me before doing the same to Gavril. I watched the three
siblings embrace, and my heart wrenched in my chest.

I loved his sisters. They were genuine and clearly loved him. I imagined
there were very few people who truly cared about Gavril in this way. And
that thought made me want to make this work, regardless of how our fake
marriage would end.

Gavril held out his hand and I took it, saying goodbye to his sisters before
walking through the house and out to the waiting car. Anatoly was there,
and he gave me a nod as I passed. “Good evening,” he stated. “Sveta
Stanislavovna.”

And just like that, I was no longer who I was, but the role that I was forced
to play.

“Good evening,” I murmured. “It’s good to see you.” I knew nothing about
Gavril’s right-hand man, but Anatoly was the one who was going to protect
him when I wasn’t there, and that was all that mattered to me.
I slid inside the car, and Gavril followed me. The door closed a moment
later. Gavril was dressed in a full tux, bowtie included. He almost reminded
me of James Bond.

He caught me staring, arching a brow as the car started to move. “What?”

“I—you look nice,” I blurted out, my cheeks on fire. This man was mine.

His lips lifted into a dangerously sexy smile, and his hand found mine,
wrapping around my fingers. “You take my breath away,” Gavril said in a
low voice. “It makes me want to throw your skirt over your head and fuck
you hard, Sveta.”

My heart sank as he said the name, even though my body warmed at the
thought. Was I always going to be Sveta? Would our children even know
me as who I was or who he wanted me to be? It was almost as if this past
week together had meant nothing to him.

If Gavril noticed my silence, he didn’t say anything. But he also didn’t let
go of my hand all the way to the theater, even helping me out when we
arrived. “Is this it?” I asked, staring up at the stately building before us.

“Yes,” Gavril supplied as he led me up the short flight of stairs and into the
lobby.

“Oh my God,” I breathed as I looked at the stunning architecture before me.

“This is beautiful.” It was clearly a very old building, the stately beauty
withstanding the test of time.

Gavril slipped his arm around my waist, and I leaned into him. If I must be
Sveta, then I would play the part convincingly.

“Come,” he said after a few minutes of letting me soak in the grand

entrance. “Let’s go to our seats.”
I allowed Gavril to lead me up the stairs to the second level, and we were
escorted through a velvet curtain to a cozy private box with a full view of
the stage below. I moved to the railing and looked down, shocked that not
only was I going to take in the performance tonight, but I was going to do it
in style. “This is your private booth, isn’t it?” I asked, turning back to
Gavril.

He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets as he watched me

through emotionless eyes. “It is. The Kirilenko family are patrons of the
arts, and our patronage comes with perks like this.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if he was a patron because of his lost chance to
perform here. “Can I ask you a question?”

He inclined his head. “Of course you can.”

I closed the distance between us. “Will you let our future children be part of
the arts, or will you also require them to turn away from their dreams?”

Gavril’s jaw clenched. “What do you think, Sveta?”

Sveta. Sveta. Sveta.

I hated that name with a passion!

“I think,” I said softly, flicking the imaginary lint from his broad shoulder.
“That you will allow them to follow their dreams.”

His eyes widened just a hair, and I touched his cheek before turning back to
the chairs that were in the box. I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to
be his father or his mother. He could challenge the norm.

Gavril joined me as the lights dimmed and the music swelled, quieting the
crowd. When the curtain rose, the orchestra began tuning from the pit.
Strings and brass and woodwinds rose in a cacophony of notes until they
harmonized. Finally, the conductor took his place, raised his hands, and
silence descended into the theater.
Then the lights dimmed and the music rose, softly at first, each note
deliberate and fraught with emotion.

When the dancers moved on stage, I found myself caught up in the action
before me, gasping as they moved gracefully, almost as if they were
floating through the air.

“What do you think?” Gavril’s lips found my ear, his breath sending shivers
down my spine.

“It’s lovely,” I breathed as I felt his hand slide under my skirt and touch my
bare knee. “What are you doing, Gavril?”

He chuckled, his lips touching my bare shoulder. “Relax and enjoy the
show, my love.”

My throat tightened at his term of endearment. Was he speaking to Naomi

or Sveta? I wanted to believe that he was speaking to Naomi at this
moment, and that thought gave me hope, hope that I didn’t know if I could
hold on to.

His long fingers brushed over my center, and I parted my legs to give him
better access, my nipples tightening painfully. My breathing became ragged
as he slid his finger past the small scrap of lace and directly into my wet,
inviting warmth.

“You must remain quiet,” he whispered, hot breath tickling my ear. “Or they
will make us leave.”

I clenched the armrests with my hands as Gavril started to move his finger,
his thumb pressing against my swollen numb lazily. He seemed to play me
like an instrument, his skilled fingers brushing over the aching parts of me
while his finger moved in and out of me to the tune of the music, pushing in
with each crescendo and pulling out in time with every decrescendo.

“Gavril,” I gasped as I felt the heat start to build. “Please.”

“Please what?” he murmured, his beard chafing my shoulder as his other
hand slipped underneath my bra, rolling my sensitive nipples between his
devilish fingers. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…I want,” I told him, biting my lower lip to keep from crying out.

“Tell me.” He bit my shoulder lightly, the sensation sending goose bumps
rising through my body. “Tell me what you want.”

My legs fell open and he thrust in and out of me lightly, teasing me closer
and closer to the edge.

“I want,” I gasped. “I want to come all over your fingers,” I answered in a

rush of breath.

Gavril’s low growl sent shivers down my spine. “Then come. Embrace it.”

His finger buried deeper inside of me as his hand pressed against my

swollen clit. His other hand continued to massage my breast, and I felt a
tremble from deep within my core. A whimper escaped, and he crushed his
lips against mine to silence my moans.

I was helpless to stop him. We were in a public place, yet it felt so right.

I opened my legs further to give him better access, and the music picked up
the pace. His tongue darted into my mouth as his scent filled my nose. He
devoured my cries of pleasure as my trembles grew out of control. My ears
began ringing as the orchestra swelled in time with my own orgasm. A
rousing round of applause rose up as I slumped into my seat, whimpering
and gasping for breath.

“Gorgeous,” he said as he removed his fingers from me and licked them

clean. I reached for him, but he just smirked and captured my hand,
pressing a kiss to the back of it before resting it on his knee. We sat like that
for the rest of the performance and by the time we got in the car to leave, I
could barely keep my hands off him.
“Anatoly,” he barked as I slid into the cool interior. “Find another way
home.”

Anatoly chuckled, and I felt my cheeks heat. “Yes, Pakhan.”

Gavril shut the door and raised the privacy panel as the car started to move.
I slid my shoes off before straddling him and cupping his face with my
hands.

“That was beautiful,” I said softly, feeling the scrape of his beard against
the palm of my hands. “Thank you.”

Something shone in his eyes before it was blinked away. “Which part?” he
asked smoothly, that arrogant smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes before leaning down and brushing my lips over his. “I want
more,” I stated, biting his lower lip lightly. “I want to have you.”

His hands drifted down to the strip of skin visible. “Then have me.”

I didn’t believe him. I wasn’t going to have him. I could claim him as my
husband, as mine, but I would never completely have Gavril, and I didn’t
know how to process that.

So, I kissed him with all the pent-up frustration and passion that was inside
me. Gavril allowed me to take the lead, his tongue sweeping over mine
lazily as I worked on the belt at his trousers. I wanted to strip him so I could
kiss every inch of his body, but we didn’t have that sort of time.

I wanted him in me.

When I pulled him out, Gavril pulled away from my mouth. “Careful,” he
growled as I brushed my thumb over the tip, finding it slick with pre-cum.
“If you keep doing this, I’m afraid things will get very messy.”
“That’s exactly what I want,” I answered before grazing my teeth on the
underside of his jaw. I removed my hand long enough to pull my panties
aside before I lowered myself onto his hard cock, burying him deep inside
me. Gavril hissed as I did so, his hands tightening on my sides. I moaned
and he captured my lips with his, his kiss more feral than it had been before.

I rocked against him and brought myself to another earth-shattering climax,

Gavril’s mouth moving from mine as he shuddered against me. A gush of
warmth flooded me, and my sex clenched greedily around his cock,
drinking in his essence.

“Fuck,” he whispered against my shoulder. “I wanted that to last longer.”

I let out a shaky laugh, breathing in his scent and filtering my fingers
through his thick, dark hair. “You can make it up to me then.”

Gavril lifted his head and for a moment, there was no hardness in his gaze,
but more of a challenge. “You can count on that.”

The car suddenly stopped, and I unwound myself from his lap, barely
sliding back into the seat beside him before the door was opening. There
was no hiding what we had done. The entire car smelled like sex.

Gavril waited until I was able to slide on my shoes and join him. Together,
we walked into the house, only to be approached by his mother the moment
we were inside.

“A man from the American Embassy is here,” she hissed, clearly upset she
had been dragged out of her bed to entertain a guest. “He is asking for you.”

I watched as my husband slid on his mask of indifference and headed to the

receiving room, his stride confident and nothing like the man who had just
fucked me in the back of the car.

When he became this man, I hated it. I hated that he felt the need to hide
himself from everyone else, and wondered if anyone ever truly knew Gavril
Kirilenko.
Still, I followed him into the receiving room and found a short man with
glasses waiting, his suit rumpled due to the lateness of the hour. “Mr.
Kirilenko,” he greeted Gavril. “I apologize for the late visit, but some
urgent business has found my desk.”

“Go on,” Gavril replied, almost bored.

The man cleared his throat, his eyes dancing nervously to me. “There’s a
woman who has been reported missing from the States, and I see you are
traveling with an American yourself.”

Gavril’s eyes flickered over him, hardening to the point of madness. “My
wife Sveta is not an American.”

The man’s mouth rounded. “Are you certain?”

Gavril let out a small, humorless laugh. “Am I certain of what? That she is
my wife?”

Not to be deterred, the man pulled out a single photo, my driver’s license
photo at that. I felt my heart sink.

“This is the missing woman in question. Naomi Spencer,” he said, his gaze
on me. “She bears an uncanny resemblance to your wife there.”

Oh God. I maintained my composure the best I could, but inside I was

falling apart. It was my worst nightmare coming true, the very thing that
Gavril had warned me against. If they found out who I was, then he
wouldn’t need me any longer.

Gavril didn’t bat an eye or even look at the photo. “I’m afraid you are
mistaken. Now, my wife is tired, and it’s late.”

“But—” the man started.

Gavril raised a hand to interrupt him. “Allow me to remind you that this is
not the United States. This is Russia. You enter my home in the dead of
night and disturb our night with baseless accusations. You declare that my
wife is an American woman when she is anything but. And if you think you
can use this as an excuse to detain her or take her away from me, I will have
no problem escalating a diplomatic incident between our two countries. Do
I make myself clear?”

The man stared at Gavril, weighing his options. After a while, he nodded
and said, “Very well. I’m sorry for this intrusion. If you have any
information about Naomi Spencer, please contact the embassy at your
earliest convenience. Now if you’d like me to leave behind my number, I
can certainly do so.”

The two talked for a few minutes longer, but I wasn’t listening any more, a
sinking suspicion starting to take shape in my mind.

There was only one person who could have gotten to the embassy.

Only one person who would want to go through all of that effort to find me.

Only one person who I’d spent years running and hiding from, but who
always—always—found me, no matter where I ran.

Jon.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 26
Gavril

I was fucking furious underneath my cool facade. I knew I couldn’t kill the
little man before me, but I wanted to snap his fucking neck for even coming
to my house and attempting to garner information.

He looked over at Naomi once more before tucking the paper back into the
folder he had been carrying. “Well, I will bid you all a good night.”

“I will walk you out,” I told him.

He nodded and I walked him to the door, ensuring that he got back into the
car he had come in before shutting it firmly behind him.

Fuck.

My mother was waiting in the receiving room when I made my way back,
along with a pale-faced Naomi.

“Bed,” she commanded my wife. “I need a word with my son.”

A word. She wanted a word?

She was going to get a fucking word from me. I walked over to Naomi,
took her hands, and found them trembling.

“Go on,” I told her softly, pressing my lips to her forehead. “I will be there
soon.”

There was a flash of fear in her eyes, and I realized that it was fear for me.
She was afraid for me. “It’s fine,” I added. “I’ll be fine.”

“All right,” she said a moment later. “I will be waiting.”

I waited until Naomi had left the room before pulling the door shut and
turning to face my mother.
“Talk.”

She let out a hard laugh. “What are you thinking, Gavril?”

“Naomi Spencer is the name she uses in America,” I lied smoothly, crossing
my arms over my chest. “To keep others from knowing her true identity.” It
was the best I could come up with, but I wasn’t about to tell her the truth.

My mother just shook her head. “An American whore has my son by the
balls.”

“That is my wife you are talking about. The mother of your grandchildren,”
I growled. “Watch what you say.”

She marched up to me and before I could stop her, I felt the sting of her slap
across my face.

“You ungrateful whelp!” she said bitterly. “Have you forgotten what I have
done to put you where you are?”

“Could I ever forget?” I shot back. “You seem so fond of reminding me

every time you see me, Maria Afanasyevna.”

She took a deep breath, and her eyes brimmed with anger.

“The mother of my grandchildren,” she spat. “Is that what you want,
Gavril? To play house with your whore?”

“I will warn you one last time,” I growled. “Do not call her that!”

“You dare tell me what to do? You dare to talk back to me?”

I drew to my full height, glaring at my mother. “I’ve let you run things far
too long. Perhaps it’s time that I correct that.”
Her eyes widened. But this time, when her hand came for my face, I caught
it swiftly and held her wrist in midair.

“Stop it!” I was tired of her hitting me, tired of her thinking that I was the
scared little boy that would do her bidding whenever she commanded. I
wasn’t scared of her, not anymore.

“I’m the Pakhan,” I continued, squeezing her wrist just enough for her to
wince. “I’m the head of the Belaya Bratva, not you! And you will respect
my position, or you will not be part of it.”

“Is that true?” she asked defiantly, her eyes hard. “A Pakhan is cold and
ruthless. A Pakhan bows to no one, yet all I see before me is a dog lapping
between the legs of his whore.”

I dropped her wrist and she stepped back, rubbing the reddened area. She’d
called my bluff. I’d warned her, she’d tested the warning, and I had
ultimately done nothing.

“If you truly want to be the Pakhan,” she stated, her mouth twisting. “Then
you need to start showing me.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you!” I shot back. I never should have
brought Naomi with me. I should have kept her in LA.

She let out a hollow laugh. “You have to prove everything to me, my little
Gavrushka. Everything. Everything I’ve given you, I can take away in the
same breath.”

“Then do it.” I stepped forward. “But don’t you threaten me again. You will
stay the hell away from my wife. You will treat her with the respect she
deserves!”

“Deserves?” My mother met my gaze and stepped forward. “What does she
deserve? The house of your father? The fruits of our labors? Our family
name? What has she done to earn any of those things?”
“The same things that you have!” I roared.

Silence descended, and instantly, I knew I’d crossed a line. My mother’s

posture slackened, her jaw dropped in disbelief, and tears welled up in her
eyes. For the first time in my life, I realized just how tiny and frail she was.
Suddenly every crease and line on her face stood out in stark detail. Every
strand of white hair became visible. In a moment, she had aged decades
before my eyes. And I felt my heart ache, knowing that I had hurt her in a
way that no man ever had.

“Leave,” she closed her eyes and whispered.

“Mother.”

“I said.” Her voice was calm and soft, but her bottom lip trembled as she
spoke. “Leave.”

Obedient, I turned with my hands balled into fists and walked away. Before
I shut the door, she spoke again.

“Go to your whore,” she sniffed. “Go to your whore and ask her why the
embassy came to our home. She is keeping secrets from you.”

I turned and walked out of the room, clenching my hands into fists as I
stalked down the hallway lit by the deathless sun that hung low over the
Neva.

***

Naomi was waiting in the living room when I entered my apartment,

shutting the door behind me with a soft click. “I thought I told you to go to
bed,” I said roughly as I ripped off the bowtie from around my neck,
throwing it into the chair.

She rose from the sofa. “What happened?”

I stripped off my coat next and threw it so that it could join the tie. “None of
your concern. I want to know why the embassy would care about a missing
American.”

The visit wasn’t common. If Naomi had been a senator’s daughter or some
high-society princess, I could understand, but nothing in her background
suggested either, and I wanted to know who would be looking for her.

“Who did you tell?”

“No one,” she answered, throwing up her hands. “I have no means to tell
anyone even if I wanted to.”

I stalked toward her, and she shrank back, causing me to pause. “I’m not
going to hurt you.” Even agitated as I was, I wasn’t going to take it out on
Naomi.

Something flickered in her eyes before she looked away. “I know.”

Was my mother right about her? Was she keeping secrets from me?

Could Naomi ask me for anything, and I would be powerless to turn her
down?

“Then tell me,” I said. “Why was that man here tonight?”

Naomi looked down and became silent. It took me a few moments before I
realized she was trembling.

“I had a stalker,” she finally said, wrapping her arms around her waist and
not meeting my gaze. “From college. He, well, he has ways of finding me. I
didn’t think he could find me here, in another country. But clearly, he did.”

Motherfucker! I felt a feral rage rising inside of me. I wanted the man dead.
I tamped down my desire to kill a man I didn’t know and set my jaw.
“Anything else?”
She shook her head, her face becoming even more ashen. “No, that’s the
only thing I can think of. I should have told you. But I really thought he
wouldn’t be able to find me. Not when I’m with you.”

Some of the fight left me and I sighed, raking my hand through my hair. “I
am sorry for scaring you.” If that was all it was, it could be easily remedied
once we went back home.

She finally met my gaze. “I hate that this ruined our night. I heard you and
your mother fighting.”

She looked so vulnerable standing there that I couldn’t help but reach out
and pull her against me, letting her head fall to my chest.

“No,” I said. “Don’t apologize. This didn’t ruin anything for us. It’s done,
and we won’t ever think of it again.”

Her entire body shuddered, and Naomi buried her face in my shirt, as if she
was finally giving herself up to me. I held onto her, resting my chin on top
of her head and stroking her back lightly with my fingers. “I will protect
you,” I finally said after a few minutes. “From whatever may come. You
must believe me.”

She answered by burying herself deeper into me, so I held her. Whatever
came our way, I would protect her. My mother was wrong. Naomi was no
whore. She was my wife. She might not be Sveta, and she might not bring
me the birthright that belonged to Sveta, but Naomi was mine, and I would
never let anything harm her.

Finally, she pulled back, giving me a small smile. “Can we just go to bed?”

I smoothed my hand over her hair. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

I wasn’t going to leave here even though there were likely a hundred other
things that needed to be done.
She nodded and extended her hand to me. I took it gingerly and allowed her
to lead me to the bedroom. There she stepped out of those heels I had been
watching all night and reached for the diamond pendant.

“Leave it on,” I said huskily. I liked the look of her draped in my fucking
diamonds.

Naomi dropped her hands and fumbled with the clasp on her skirt, letting it
fall off her body a second later. My eyes were drawn to the red lace at her
center and my cock roared to life again, deciding that it was far from done
with her tonight.

When she stepped closer, I knew that she held me in the palm of her hand.
“What do you want?” I asked roughly.

She gave me a little smile. “I want to finish what we started. To strip you of
all your clothing and kiss every inch of your skin,” she murmured as her
fingers worked on the buttons of my dress shirt. “To have you.”

“Even now?” I forced out, feeling every single nerve stand at attention.

Naomi looked up at me, her eyes deep pools that I could drown in.
“Especially now.”

With a growl I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head,
reaching for my pants to divest myself of them in rapid succession. The
moment they slid past my hips, my cock sprang out, heavy with need, and
Naomi licked her lips. “That was quick.”

I let down my guard and truly grinned at her. “You wanted it, you got it, my
love.” The endearment surprised me yet again, but it was the truth. She was
my love, the only fucking thing that mattered right now.

Instead of responding, her hands went to my chest, smoothing the scarred

skin there. “Will you ever tell me what happened?” she asked lightly as her
fingers traced a deep gash on my left pec.
“Does it matter?” I asked. No one had ever asked me about them before.

Her lips replaced her fingers, and I sucked in a breath. “Of course it does,”
she answered, her eyes colliding with mine. “Someone hurt you, Gavril.”

I let out a hollow laugh. A lot of people had hurt me, both physically and in
ways I would never tell her about.

“They won’t hurt me again.”

Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but I covered it with mine, clasping
her hand to my chest. What she was doing to me wasn’t what I had
bargained for, and had she been the true Sveta, none of this would be
happening.

I didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified.

***

Later, after I had fucked her so thoroughly that her voice was hoarse from
crying out my name, she lay against my chest, my fingers tangled in the
mess of her hair. And as much as I feared admitting it, this felt right. Naomi
at my side felt right, like I had something more to my life, to my future than
just being the Bratva’s Pakhan.

But as the tender feelings rested deep down in my soul, my mother’s words
came back to haunt me. She wasn’t wrong either. I wasn’t being cold and
calculating like I was supposed to be. I was indulging in feelings that I
didn’t know still existed.

I felt like I was two different people.

Naomi mumbled something in her sleep, and I pulled her tighter against me,
not giving a shit right now if she thought me weak and soft. In stolen
moments like this, I could let my guard down, pretend that there wasn’t a
fucking world out there waiting to destroy us.
Come the morning, things were going to have to be different, however. I
just hoped that Naomi could understand that.

But as I drifted to sleep, I thought about losing her and everything we had
built.

And that thought terrified me.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 27
Naomi
Two weeks later

“I don’t care what anyone says. When I go to America, I want to see the
Hollywood sign.”

I smiled at Katarina. “You can see it from the highway. It’s not hard to miss.
And it looks smaller than you think.”

“Well, I could not care less about the Hollywood sign,” Aleksandra replied
haughtily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I want to see the actual
sights, eat the local food. I’ve always wanted to try a real taco.”

The girls launched into an argument about which was more important—
tacos or the Hollywood sign—and I just shook my head, staring out of the
window as the city of St. Petersburg passed by us in a blur. I couldn’t
believe it when they said that they wanted to take me shopping. I was more
shocked that Maria had given them permission to do so.

I didn’t mind being with the two of them. I loved Gavril’s sisters. They
were extensions of his family and were always full of exuberance that his
mother didn’t have. They had made my time in Russia pleasant, and I was
willing to do whatever it took to keep their friendship even after we left.

Gavril had left me his black card this morning on the nightstand to use. It
wasn’t like I needed anything, but I wanted to pamper his sisters for their
kindness, and I doubted he would say much about it.

Not that he talked much to me these days. That night after the theater, he
had made love to me like a man on the verge of death—like he would never
do so again. And since that night, he’d gone back to being the cold,
calculating Pakhan that I’d married.

“Well, I’m closer to eighteen,” Aleksandra finally said, giving me a small

smile. “And I can’t wait to visit you in America and send my sister all the
pictures of all the tacos I’m going to eat.”
Katarina crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “It’s not fair. We
should just be able to go back when you do. It’s not like Mother would miss
us.”

That caught my attention and I looked at her. “Why would you say
something like that?”

“Mother hardly gives us any attention other than to say what we’re doing
wrong,” she answered, tears gathering in her eyes.

I knew that their lives were probably unconventional given the way that
Gavril had clearly been raised, but I hadn’t expected them not to feel their
mother’s love.

“She loves you in her own ways,” I said gently. Even though I didn’t like
the woman, I had to tolerate her, and I wasn’t about to badmouth her in
front of her own children.

Aleksandra snorted. “As if. She doesn’t want us to have any kind of fun. It’s
always the same thing. Do this. Do that. Listen to me; I’m your mother! It’s
so boring.”

“That’s because your family has enemies,” I added. “And she just wants
you to be safe.”

“We do get out though,” the older sister added with a sly smile.
“Occasionally we will sneak out to see our friends. Mother always catches
us, but it’s worth the slap on the hand. She doesn’t want to ruin our beauty
by slapping us in the face like she does with Gavrushka.”

I was horrified, my heart breaking at what these girls went through, but in
the back of my mind, I could understand why Maria would want to keep a
tight control over what they did as well. I didn’t condone the slapping, but if
one of Gavril’s sisters was taken, she could be used against the family. I
wagered that he would do whatever it took to get her back, and Maria
would do whatever it took to make the kidnappers suffer.
“Listen,” I told them. “I know you feel like your mother is overbearing, but
she isn’t without good reason. Your brother is a very powerful man, and at
any time, you could be taken to spite him.”

Katarina swallowed hard. “I know. But why can’t they both just let me have
my own life? I don’t want to be powerful. I just want to be free.”

I was inclined to agree with her. Over the last two weeks I’d wondered what
my life would have been like if Gavril was just a regular person who I had
met at a bar or nightclub. The money, I didn’t care about, nor did I care
about the lifestyle.

But I was worried about Gavril. He was going to break my heart in the end.
I was fully aware of that.

“You will learn one day,” I finished. “When you have children of your
own.”

“Are you and my brother going to have children?” Aleksandra asked

suddenly, a sly smile on her face. “Because you guys are doing it enough to
have an entire brood.”

My cheeks flamed at the thought of what they might have heard coming
from Gavril’s apartment and how it had slowed recently. Sure, we still had
sex regularly, but the warmth wasn’t there. The fun was gone, almost like
he was back to doing his duty to get me pregnant and nothing more.

I hated it. I hated that coldness. I hated that he wasn’t there when I woke up
in the morning so I could give him a smile to start his day.

I hated how he turned over once he was finished at night and didn’t even
bother to cuddle with me as he had, almost like he didn’t care if I was in the
bed or not.

I hated this side of Gavril, almost like someone had flipped a switch and the
monster I married was back.
“We don’t do that,” I said lamely, causing the girls to crack up with
laughter.

“So, do you want children?” Katarina asked as their laughter died down. “I
think you would be an awesome mom. Much more fun than ours.”

“I, well, yes,” I replied, thinking of the time before I had been kidnapped. I
had wanted to be a mom eventually, to have a child that loved me
unconditionally. “Do you want to be aunts?”

“Yes!” they chorused together.

I smiled, though inside I was dying a little. That had been Gavril’s ultimate
goal after all, to get me pregnant so he could pass our child off as Stanislav
Orlov’s heir. I doubted his plans had changed. He needed it, based on what
he had told me.

I just…

I hoped he would see that when I did become pregnant, it was more than
just a pawn in a game. It would be his child, his heir, the one thing that
would love him beyond measure. I could already picture a dark-headed son
with the arrogance of his father or a lovely, bright-eyed girl who would
have my sass.

What sort of life were they going to have?

What sort of life would I be looking at?

“Can I ask you a question?” Katarina asked as the car finally pulled into a
parking lot.

“Sure,” I answered, looking for my purse. “Anything.”

“Why do we call you Sveta when your name is Naomi?”

I froze, looking at both girls. “What?”

They exchanged glances themselves before Katarina rushed on. “We

overheard that embassy worker that night. He called you Naomi.”

I swallowed, carefully considering how to answer her question. I wanted to

scream at the top of my lungs that I was Naomi and that Sveta was dead.
But I knew that the moment I did that, I would be betraying Gavril’s trust
and opening his secret up to the world.

But I was tired of lying. I was tired of being the person who had this heavy
secret on her shoulders and was forced to bear it alone.

“I tell you what,” I said, lowering my voice. “Would you like to call me
Naomi?”

They both nodded, their eyes widening. “You mean like a code name?”
Aleksandra asked, her voice hushed.

It was my turn to nod. “Exactly. Like a code name. It can be our little
secret.” It would be a measure of truth that I could leave with them, hoping
that if the truth ever came out one day, they would realize what I’d trusted
them with today. “But you cannot tell your mother or your brother or
anyone else for that matter.”

“We won’t,” both girls replied together. “Promise!”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I gathered them both into a hug, hoping that
for a little while they believed that someone cared about them. I would
sacrifice my own life to keep them safe from harm. “I love you two.”

Finally, I pulled back, dashing at my eyes. These days I was more

overemotional than normal. “Come on. Let’s go spend some of your
brother’s money, shall we?”

***
Later, after an exhausting trip with Gavril’s sisters, I dropped the packages
onto the sofa and sat down, rubbing my aching feet. It had been an exciting
day with them, and since I’d never had any sisters, I really enjoyed their
company.

I could live with Maria hating me as long as her daughters didn’t.

The door opened and Gavril walked in, his eyes finding mine. “I didn’t
expect you to be back so soon,” he stated.

“What did you expect?” I asked lightly, my chest tightening at how

exhausted he looked. I knew he had business to conduct in Russia, but it
was almost like we had fallen apart after the embassy man had shown up,
and I didn’t like it at all. “For us to spend all your money?”

Gavril didn’t even crack a smile at my teasing, and my hope started to

wither.

“I really enjoyed spending time with your sisters,” I continued, not wanting
to give up just yet. “They are wonderful girls.”

Gavril just stood there, and I forced myself to stand and move toward him,
feeling more like his prey that he was watching. “You look tired.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s been a long day.”

I finally reached him, knowing that I had to somehow patch this widening
gap that was growing between us. “Why don’t you go get in the shower?” I
said. “And I will get some food for you.”

Gavril stared down at me and for a moment, I saw bleakness in his gaze.
This man, this powerful man with the world on his shoulders was worried
about something. Was it me? Was he worried that something was going to
happen to me, or was he planning on doing something to me and that was
why he was slowly distancing himself?

I hadn’t given him a child yet. At any point he could get rid of me.
“Fine,” he finally said. “A shower will be good.”

I watched as he brushed past me and moved to the bedroom, hearing the

shower start a moment later. I waited until I knew he was sold on the
shower before I started toward the bathroom myself, stripping off my
clothing as I did so. The bathroom was already starting to steam by the time
I opened the door, catching Gavril standing under the steady stream of
water, his head bowed. When my hand touched his scarred back, he
trembled.

“What are you doing, Naomi?” he whispered.

Oh God. Something was really wrong. “I’m going to take care of you,” I
told him, keeping emotions out of my voice for now. I had never seen him
like this before, never this bleak.

He didn’t answer, so I reached around his large body and grabbed a

washcloth, lathering it up before sliding it over his skin, first his shoulders,
then down his back and over his ass. Once I reached his feet, I stepped
back. “Turn around.”

He did so slowly and I found his body tense, his eyes watching me warily
as I started soaping up his chest. “Tell me what to do,” I begged as I slid it
over his taut abs. “Tell me what you need.”

When I reached his cock, he hissed, and I stilled. He was hard and ready as
always, nudging against the washcloth insistently.

So, I washed him carefully before allowing the washcloth to fall to the
shower floor, my hand tracing over him lightly. “Naomi,” he murmured, his
hand joining mine and urging me to pump him faster.

I did as he wanted, making a fist and sliding up and down in the ways I
knew he liked. “Are you going to cum all over me?” I asked lightly,
meeting his gaze. “Are you going to dirty me up, Gavril?”
His eyes flashed, and his hand gripped mine even more. “Is that what you
want?” he asked roughly.

“Yes,” I replied, working him faster. “I want you to cover me.”

He swore under his breath and soon the ropy strings of his release covered
my stomach and breasts, washed away under the warm water almost
immediately. For a moment I kept my grip on him, letting him finish all the
way until he removed his hand from mine. Before he could say anything, I
reached out and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him against me.
“Just let me hold you for a minute,” I said against his wet skin.

Gavril shuddered, literally shuddered in my grasp before his arms went

around me and he held me against him, his hand moving into my hair. For a
moment we stood under the steady stream of warm water, holding each
other, and I fought back the tears in my eyes. I didn’t know what was going
on with Gavril, but I wasn’t going to let him shut me out. We had to be in
this together.

Finally, I backed away and Gavril shut off the water. “Go get on the bed,”
he ordered, grabbing a towel and handing it to me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because,” he said, his eyes brightening with intensity. “I want to return the
favor.”

My breath left my lungs, and I felt my knees weaken as I toweled off,

walking naked to the bed and climbing on. Gavril was there in an instant
and before I could say anything, he was lowering himself between my
thighs.

“What are you doing?” I gasped as his hands slid up my thighs and pulled
them apart. “Gavril.”

A wicked grin crossed his face, and he blew on my wet center. “You
promised me dinner.”
When his lips touched me, I closed my eyes and succumbed to the familiar
feeling of him worshipping my body.

Later, after we had exhausted ourselves, I lay in the circle of his arms. He
had gone quiet again, but he hadn’t made any move to leave, and I tried not
to hold him in the bed, afraid that once he did leave, we would go back to
the coldness.

“We are going home.”

His words were a low murmur against my shoulder, and I turned to face
him. “What?”

“We are going back to LA,” he said, his eyes finding mine in the darkness.
“Tomorrow.”

“All right,” I said after a moment. “I will be ready in the morning.” As

much as I hated to leave his sisters and this beautiful country, I was ready to
get back to a familiar landscape in LA.

His arms tightened around me, but he didn’t say anything else, and I waited
for him to fall into sleep before the tears came, wondering what the hell was
wrong with him.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 28
Gavril

I twirled the ice in my glass, debating whether or not to have another drink.
We were still hours away from LAX. Naomi was sleeping in the chair
across from me, but I couldn’t shut my body down.

Hell, I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since we had returned from the
Mariinsky, and my body was starting to feel it. It was funny. Every time I
returned to St. Petersburg, I wanted nothing but to leave. But each time I
decided to leave, I wanted nothing more than to stay.

This time would be no different. And there was no way I could ignore the
growing tension that awaited me back in the States.

The shipment was due at the docks soon, and I wanted to be there to hand it
off to the brigadiers, to show them that I was serious about bringing them to
my side and the lengths that I was willing to go to ensure their loyalty.

I couldn’t trust anyone else with that shipment. Too many things had
happened over the last few months for me to hand it off to anyone.

So, I was taking Naomi home. I didn’t think she was too happy about it.

She had shared a tearful goodbye with my sisters, promising them that we
would be back soon to see them.

We, she had said. Not me.

That single word left a tightness in my chest that hadn’t eased since we left,
and I didn’t know what to do about that.

Looking over, I couldn’t help smiling as I heard Naomi let out a soft snore
as she slept. She was fucking gorgeous, wearing the diamonds I had refused
to let her take off and covered under the blanket I had draped over her hour
ago. I was glad that she was getting some rest, but deep down, I wanted to
see her smile, to know I hadn’t fucked anything up with my distancing.
She hadn’t given up herself. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what she had done in
the shower the other night. She was trying to close the gap between us, to
pull me back into the fray.

And for a moment, it had worked. I hadn’t wanted anything other than her
hands on my body, the soft look in her eyes that told me she gave a damn.

She was soothing the beast inside me, making me feel like I fucking
mattered to her. She wanted to take care of me.

Was this what love felt like? I ran a hand through my hair roughly, my eyes
on my wife, and reminded myself that the name on our marriage certificate
wasn’t hers. It was Sveta’s.

But Naomi was mine. She was my wife with every thrust of my body
against hers, every time she cried out my name, and every time her nails
dug into my back.

My wife had charmed my sisters, making them feel like a family again after
everything that my mother had tried to destroy inside of them.

My wife knew when I was fucked up on the inside. She could pull it out of
me and make me beg for more of her love.

She made me fucking happy, and I hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time.

There was, however, something that she wasn’t telling me about this stalker
shit. I should have forced the words out of her when I asked her about it,
but she had looked so scared. And in that moment, the only thing I wanted
was to protect her at all costs.

I didn’t know shit about this faceless man that I was up against, but he
wasn’t going to get anywhere near Naomi. The moment he exposed
himself, I would crush him and make him wish he had never heard of her
name.
That was what I could do for her. Naomi had only scratched the surface of
what I could do, whether in Los Angeles or in Russia.

And there was so much more that she didn’t know.

I hadn’t shared that part of me with her yet. It was the ugly side of my
business, the one that would bring disgust into her eyes if she knew what
her husband dealt in. I couldn’t imagine Naomi turning a blind eye to
human trafficking or what I was going to do to those women, but it was part
of me.

It was part of the business.

Still, I had tried the cold shoulder that my mother demanded, and it had
failed miserably. Naomi was just too good at detecting my bullshit.
Somehow, I had gravitated to her without even realizing it. With her, there
was no pretending that I didn’t give a shit. Hell, she had no idea how many
times I had watched her sleep over the last two weeks, seated in a chair in
the bedroom with a glass of vodka so that I wouldn’t disturb her. I had
watched her toss and turn, her hand reaching to my side of the bed while
her voice softly murmured my name out in her sleep.

I had watched her withdraw from me when I started pulling away. I saw the
confusion and hurt on her face as she couldn’t figure out what was going on
with me.

Last night had been the final straw. I couldn’t—I didn’t want to be cold to
her any longer and when she had climbed into the shower with me, I knew I
couldn’t push her away.

Fuck the cold Pakhan. What would I have if Naomi decided to turn the
tables, to become a woman like, well, like my mother? She would become
bitter, suspicious, and ruthless. Like a wolf who must chew its own leg off
to escape a trap.

I had seen it time and time again with some of the other leaders over the
years, watching as their wives became mute dolls on their arms, their eyes
lifeless and unemotional.

I didn’t want that to happen to Naomi. Once upon a time, I’d married her
with a single goal in mind, but now, the options were limitless.

But only if I let her in.

The thought made me nauseous, and I had to swallow to force it away. I

looked out the window at the endless open sky, and my mind wandered.

There was a time when I’d trusted another woman with everything I had.
She had known all my secrets, my fears, what made me happy, and what set
me off. She’d brought a smile on my face and made me forget the monster
that I usually tried to be.

And it had come crashing down in the end. She had nearly destroyed me—
so thoroughly that it was a small miracle that I was able to find a shred of
decency with Naomi these days.

Still, if I closed my eyes, I could see the brilliant sapphire eyes that had
brought me to her to begin with, how they lit up whenever I saw her. She
had been my own little secret—the sole person who’d meant more to me
than anyone else in my life.

And those same eyes had pleaded with me in her final moments. Her lips
had moved and whispered words of false apology that fell on deaf ears.
Even after everything she had done, I’d held her as tears streamed down my
cheeks as the brilliance had faded, dimmed, and finally gone still.

It was the last time I had cried over anyone.

Since that day, I had vowed to never let anyone get that close again.

Yet here I was, desperately trying to shove the door closed that Naomi had
kicked wide open.
I couldn’t let her get any closer. I couldn’t let her take me to that place
again.

“What are you thinking about?”

Naomi was sitting up in her seat, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

I turned my attention back to her. “You, of course.”

That got me a full smile in return, and my heart hammered against my rib
cage in booming thuds that only she could elicit.

“You are so full of it,” she laughed, stretching her arms over her head.

I placed my glass in the armrest holder. “I’m not full of anything, thanks to
you.”

Her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment, and I found myself liking the
look on her. When it was just us, just Gavril and Naomi, things were right
with the world.

“Sleep well?” I asked.

She rubbed her eyes and looked out of the window. “Where are we?”

I shrugged. “Somewhere over the Arctic Ocean. We are about halfway

there.”

“Ugh,” she sighed. “As much as it’s nice not to fly commercial, I don’t care
to see a plane for a long while.”

“Even if I take you to the Maldives or to Paris?” I teased, surprised at how

natural it felt to tease her.

Her lips curved in a smile. “Well, you might convince me to get on a plane
then.”
“Next time, then.”

She looked around. “What else have you been doing since we left?”

“Nothing,” I admitted. “Just watching you sleep. But if you are going to be
awake now, I can show you some excellent in-flight entertainment to pass
the time.”

The jet had a selection of brand-new movies that had just barely hit the
theaters, including every show known to man. I wasn’t a big TV or movie
watcher, but I definitely wouldn’t have a problem watching her enjoy
herself.

Naomi pushed the blanket aside and unbuckled her seat belt, rising on her
bare feet. “I can think of other ways to pass the time,” she murmured as she
slid into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

For a moment I looked at her, wishing that things were different, that I
could be the man she deserved in her life. I was a monster, one who had
taken her from her life and forced her into this one. Yet I didn’t want to let
her go.

Her eyes narrowed. “You are thinking far too much about something,
Gavril.”

I slid an arm around her, my fingers finding the edge of her shirt and
caressing the skin above the waistband of the leggings she was wearing.
“It’s nothing.”

She arched a brow. “I doubt you’re ever capable of thinking about nothing,
Gavril.”

Leaning forward, I brushed my lips over hers as my hand slipped under the
sheer material to caress her perfect round ass. “Maybe I’m just thinking of
how hard I want to fuck you right now.”
Naomi smirked and bit her lower lip. “Maybe I was thinking the same
thing.”

I nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent. “Then what are we waiting for, Mrs.
Kirilenko?”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 29
Naomi

I couldn’t help it. When he made reference to me being his wife, it did
something to me. There was no one around right now, no reason for him to
pretend, but I felt like Gavril was looking at me as Naomi, not Sveta, and
that thrilled me to no end.

After weeks of him being cold and distant, I didn’t feel it right now. He was
warm, teasing even. And I wanted to freeze time for moments like this.

Gavril’s lips were on my neck, lightly sucking on the sensitive spot right
below my ear, and I shivered. “You like that,” he murmured against my
skin, his hand now flattened against my side. “Don’t you?”

I played with the slightly curling ends of his hair at the nape of his neck,
angling my neck to give him better access. “I like a lot of things you do, Mr.
Kirilenko.”

His hand roamed up my side underneath my shirt, finding the lace edging of
my bra. “Do you now?” he asked. “Care to share?”

I gasped as his hand moved to the front of my chest, cupping my breast.

“How about I tell you when you do something wrong instead?”

He chuckled. “I have no doubt that you will.”

Leaning down, I took his earlobe between my teeth. “Is that bedroom still in
the back?”

Gavril hissed through his teeth. “It is.”

My stomach tightened with need, but I forced myself to get off his lap,
crooking a finger at him to follow me. Right now, I needed to feel him all
over me, to hang onto what we had done in the shower last night and not
lose Gavril to whatever horrors awaited us when he got back to LA.
Thankfully, he must have felt the same because he undid his seat belt and
followed me to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Would you
care to join me in the mile-high club?” I asked in my most sultry voice
before bursting into laughter. “I’m sorry! I’ve always wanted to say that.”

A rusty laugh escaped Gavril and I basked in it, watching as his face grew
youthful, the harsh edges evening out. This was the Gavril I wanted to
know.

“I hate to tell you.” He wiped a hand over his face. “This won’t be the first
time for me.”

Of course it wasn’t. I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Well,” I replied as I closed the distance between us, my fingers working

the buttons on his shirt. “But it will be for me.”

His eyes were filled with warmth as he gazed down at me, his hand coming
up to cup my cheek. “In that case,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over
my cheek. “Let’s make this moment one to remember.”

My heart flipped over in my chest, but I focused on my task, succeeding in

getting his shirt off so that I could touch his bare chest.

Last night had been about what he needed.

Now, it was about what I wanted.

I wanted this to be an experience he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. When I

reached for his belt, Gavril quirked a brow. “Are you trying to get me
naked?”

I stood on my tiptoes, brushing my lips over his. “It’s my favorite look on

you.”

Another laugh. Each one I locked in a little box inside my heart, treasuring
it. When he laughed, it meant I was making him happy, and that was all that
mattered to me.

I succeeded in getting his pants off and pointed toward the bed. “Get on the
bed.”

Gavril didn’t object, and I got a good eyeful of his finely sculpted ass as he
did so. Quickly, I shed my own clothing and climbed on top of him, his
cock butting against my stomach.

“Beautiful,” he said, his large hands cupping my breasts, molding them to

his liking. “Absolutely beautiful. Look at you.”

“And you,” I murmured, my nails sliding down his chest, over the scars that
made Gavril who he was. “Perfection.”

He chuckled, his eyes warm. “I think we need to get your eyes checked.”

“I’m serious.” I shook my head. “Everything about you is perfect.”

Even his soul that he tried so desperately to hide. I had seen glimpses of
him, his true self with his sisters, and it was nothing like the monster who
married me.

Something crossed his gaze that had my chest tightening, but I leaned down
and captured his lips with mine, our kiss slow and unhurried, like we had all
the time in the world. I savored his lips and his tongue like I was starving. I
wanted to drown myself in him—in my Gavril, my husband.

His hands roamed from my breasts to my shoulders, then down my back, a

gentle pressure against my skin that sent goose bumps all over my body.
Gavril was the first one to break the kiss, his breathing as harsh as mine
was. “I need you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. “I
need you so fucking badly, Naomi.”

My soul sang at the use of my name, and though deep down I knew that I
would be Sveta when the plane landed, it meant the world to me that he saw
me.
Me. Naomi Spencer. A second-rate actress who needed to find another
profession.

Me, the one who was likely in love with him, and it terrified me.

“What’s wrong?”

I realized that Gavril had pulled away to look at me, worry in his gaze.
“Nothing,” I answered, giving him a little smile. “I was just thinking about
you, about us.”

Some of the worry eased from his eyes, and I distracted him by lifting my
body upward so that I could slide down on his cock. “Fuck, Naomi,” he
groaned, his hands going to my hips. “You are so tight.”

I gasped as I fully sheathed him inside, letting my body get used to the
intrusion. My pussy was already wet with both anticipation and need. And I
let out a whimper of pleasure as I started rocking against him.

“That’s it,” Gavril urged as he allowed me to ride him. “Come for me,
love.”

Love. That was what I felt for him. I loved him.

I quickened my pace, my hips moving almost on their own—driven by an

animal need as my body indulged in every detail of our coupling. His hands
found my hips and took control. The pressure from my arousal grew inside
of me and I fell into him, holding on for dear life.

“Yes,” I whispered. And the whisper became louder. And louder. And
louder until it became a long-sustained note. “YES!”

Suddenly, our weight shifted and I found myself upright as Gavril picked
me up. He held me in the air as his cock drove deep into my core. Waves of
pleasure crashed across my body as his mouth closed around mine. Our
tongues danced as he fucked me, and I could feel the lust for him deep in
my body. My legs wrapped tighter around him, driving him to touch me in
places that no man had ever touched. To make him claim me like no man
could ever claim.

Suddenly we were falling, and the bed enveloped me as the two of us fell
into crumpled sheets. I looked up from underneath him, staring up at his
gorgeous profile. With one long move, he pulled out of me, only to plunge
back in.

“I love—” I gasped as he filled me to the core. “I love this.”

Why? Why did I say that? I wanted to say I loved him—I did love him. But
somehow, I stopped myself. The admission was both exciting and terrifying
at the same time. Was it because I knew that one day he would crush my
heart? That was why I didn’t say the words aloud.

Right?

Gavril halted and I forced myself to look at him, reaching up with my hand
to cup his cheek. “Please,” I begged. “Please don’t stop.”

He took my hand, interlocked it with his, and brought it over my head. “I

want to hear you scream my name,” he murmured, giving me another stroke
of his cock. “It will be the only name you ever scream like that.”

I whimpered as he buried himself to the hilt, sending another delicious

wave of pleasure rippling upward from my core. My hips rose up to meet
him, to urge him deeper, and he obliged.

I felt vulnerable to him as arousal flooded my body. My pussy made wet,

hungry noises as Gavril drilled into me. The weight of his body pressed me
deep into the bed, and his scent overwhelmed my senses. His hands found
their way to my shoulder, holding me down as he fucked me harder and
faster. My body started to shake as he moved inside of me. The smell of sex
filled the air. I was dimly aware of my own cries of pleasure.
Then it came. The first wave of orgasm crashing into me. My pussy
clenched as my back arched up from the bed. Gavril pushed me back,
fighting to keep his cock inside of me.

“Look at me!” he ordered, and I obeyed.

Our eyes met, and I saw the desire burning in his eyes.

“Gavril!” I cried out, not caring if someone could hear. His entire Bratva
could be on the other side of the door, and I wouldn’t care.

His eyes bored into mine, and I felt his pace quicken. I was in heaven. He
showed no signs of stopping, and in that moment, I never felt more
complete. I didn’t want it to end.

His grip on me tightened. His cock grew harder.

Suddenly, Gavril let go of all control. With a savage roar, he pumped into
me one last time as a surge of wet heat surged into my core. My pussy
clenched instinctively, milking him for every last drop until he had nothing
left and finally collapsed on top of my body. He tried to pull out, but I held
him there and found myself smirking with savage pride as a ragged gasp
escaped his lips. Each time he tried to pull away, I tightened my own grip,
refusing to let him leave.

My heart hammered in my chest. My body was slick with sweat. We had

fucked and had sex in the past.

But never on this level.

My hands were shaking when I moved them to his back, tracing the skin
between his shoulder blades. I had nearly told Gavril that I loved him. What
would he have done?

Would he have been happy that he had finally succeeded in getting me to

fall completely for him so he could make me do whatever he wanted?
Or would he have taken my words to heart, realizing that he was worth
being loved by someone, someone who truly cared about him?

I really didn’t know which way it would have been taken by Gavril, but I
wasn’t ready. Maybe it was the fact that Jon had found me in Russia even
though I had avoided him for nearly a year on my own. Maybe I couldn’t
love anyone completely and with my whole heart.

Trust was a huge factor in a relationship, and though I cared for Gavril
greatly, I wasn’t 100 percent sure I could trust him.

Finally, Gavril grunted and rolled off me, pulling me against his body.
“Sleep,” he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

I reached down and dragged the blanket on top of us, wrapping my arm
around his lean waist. “You too. You need your rest.”

For a moment I thought he was going to pull away, but after a few
moments, he sighed heavily and held me tighter against him. Gavril’s
warmth was hard to ignore, and it didn’t take long before I felt my eyelids
start to droop.

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, pressing my face into his chest.

“Never,” he said softly, his hand finding mine and clasping it to his chest.

It was the last thing I heard him say before I slipped into blissful darkness.

***

“Naomi.”

I swatted at Gavril’s hand on my shoulder and groaned. “Hmm?”

“We will be landing in ten minutes.”

I cracked an eye open, seeing the sunlight bleeding through the fabric on
the window. I had slept hard, my body exhausted yet comfortable on the
bed that was in the back of a freaking jet.

Oh God. I sat up abruptly, clutching the sheet to my naked body. Gavril was
seated on the bed next to me, fully dressed in one of his expensive suits
sans the tie and looking damn near impeccable with his perfectly styled hair
and a shadow of a beard on his face.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” I hissed, taking the sheet with me as I
hunted for my clothing strewn about on the floor.

He chuckled, but it wasn’t as open as it had been earlier. No, his laugh was
guarded and that hurt my heart. “You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t
want to interrupt.”

I shot him a look as I pulled on my leggings. “It would have been nice to be
more presentable.”

Gavril stood and straightened his cuffs. “Sounds like someone needs her
coffee.”

What I needed was a few more hours of sleep, but given that we were
almost home, I could delay that for a while.

The word struck me as I reached for my shirt. Home. We were going home
to the mansion. Did Gavril think of it as home, or was it just another way
for him to show off his wealth, his power?

Was I his home?

“I will be waiting outside,” Gavril was saying as he opened the door. “Feel
free to join me before the plane actually lands.”

Instead of throwing something at him, I stepped into the small bathroom off
the side of the bedroom. One look in the mirror and I groaned, trying to
finger comb my hair. At least I looked well rested, some of the color back in
my cheeks, though I doubted all of it was from rest. Traces of lust and sex
were still on my face, and I quickly dipped a finger between my legs and
found that I was still wet just thinking about what we had done.

I pulled my hair up in a high ponytail and grabbed the side of the sink when
a sudden bout of nausea hit me out of nowhere. My hand tightened on the
metal edge. I forced myself to swallow a few times, trying to get it to pass.
Was it because we were changing altitudes or the fact I hadn’t eaten?

Or was it something more? Something telling me that I didn’t want to be

back in LA?

I turned on the water and grabbed the washcloth that had been placed by the
sink, wetting it to run over my face and the back of my neck. Whatever it
was, it had to go away. I wasn’t in the mood for throwing up today.

The nausea dissipated as I felt the landing gear lower and hurried to the
main cabin, where Gavril was already seated. After slipping on my shoes, I
fell into the seat next to him, buckling my seat belt.

“Record time,” I said lightly.

The wheels touched down just as the last word left my mouth, and Gavril
arched a brow. “Not a minute too soon either.”

Sticking out my tongue, I was rewarded with a sexy grin from my husband.
I had to keep this going. I had to keep this lightness between us because I
was so afraid that if I didn’t, I would lose him completely.

Once the plane taxied to the hangar, Gavril stood and I gathered my bag,
following him to the pilots, where Gavril greeted them both with a firm
handshake. He then took my hand and helped me down the stairs to where a
dark sedan was waiting. “Ivan,” I replied warmly as I saw Gavril’s driver,
Ivan Popov, waiting by the back door.

“Mrs. Kirilenko,” he acknowledged with a warm smile of his own.

“Welcome back.”
“Ivan,” Gavril replied, coming up behind me.

“Pakhan,” he responded, inclining his head as he opened the door.

“Welcome home.”

I slid inside and Gavril followed, Ivan shutting the door behind us. Gavril
immediately pulled out his cell phone, and I tried not to lose the hope that I
had found earlier. Of course he had things to attend to. I couldn’t be the
center of his attention all the time.

I just wished that the happiness could have lasted just a little longer
between us.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 30
Gavril

I answered the texts in rapid-fire succession as the car sped through the
familiar streets of LA toward the mansion. Naomi was silent beside me, and
I wondered if she had apprehensions like I did about being back.

What we had in Russia or even in the jet was far different from what we had
here, and surely she had to be worried about it.

Hell, I was worried about it, about losing that laughter in her voice, the look
in her eyes whenever she looked at me.

Last night, I’d thought she was going to tell me that she loved me. When
the words had left her mouth, for a moment I had felt the elation sneak in. It
wasn’t because I had finally won; I had taken everything she could give me.

No, it was because I thought she had found a way to love me, to break
down my barriers and worm her way into my fucking heart.

Hell, she was already there.

Instead, she had said she loved me pounding into her.

Any other man’s ego would have been blown, but I wanted more. The
disappointment had threaded through me to the point that I’d thought I
might leave her in the bed, even when I had told her I wouldn’t.

The vodka hadn’t drowned that disappointment as well as I had hoped, and
by the time I had woken Naomi, I was itching to get off the jet.

And now here we were, silent once more.

I glanced over at her, finding her staring at the passing scenery with interest.
There was something different about her. Maybe it was the happiness she
had found with my sisters, but her hair seemed to have more bounce than
normal. Her breasts had seemed to feel heavier in my hands last night, and
there was a different kind of softness about her.

Happiness looked good on her, and I vowed silently to keep it on her for as
long as I could.

Especially if she was going to jump my bones every chance she got.

Grinning inwardly, I turned my attention back to the texts. One was from
Anatoly, making sure that I had landed on time. He hadn’t even batted an
eye when I told him he would have to fly commercial, since I wanted to
spend some time alone with my wife, but I had very little doubt that he
would rag me about it next time he saw me.

Another text was from Katarina, wanting to thank me for bringing Sveta
with me for them to meet. I read her gushing words and sent back a text to
let her know we had gotten back safely. Naomi had really done a number on
my sisters as well, but she truly seemed to care about them and that made
me happy.

There were also a number of texts about the shipment and how it had been
delayed because of bad weather.

Fucking great. Now I would have to wait a few more days to placate the
Krasnaya brigadiers.

That wasn’t what I wanted to happen, but it was all that I could do for now.

The car finally pulled in front of the mansion, and I let out a small sigh of
relief that we had arrived safely and without incident. Even though I thrived
on danger, I sure as hell didn’t want it when Naomi was with me.

“We are home,” she whispered softly in Russian. I had grown so used to her
speaking in English while we were alone that it almost sounded unfamiliar
to me.
Such a simple little thing. But the mere reminder of our ruse, of our pretend
roles, left my stomach churning uncomfortably.

“We are,” I told her instead as the door opened. “Welcome home.”

She gave me a nod and I stepped out, finding Vera waiting for me.
“Welcome home, master,” she said. “I trust that your trip went well?”

“It did,” I answered as Naomi came to stand by me. I didn’t reach out to
take her hand even though I wanted to.

“Mistress,” Vera stated, inclining her head. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Vera,” Naomi replied with a gentle smile on her face. “It’s
good to be back.”

Her voice was neutral, but I could see her hands shaking despite how she
tried to hide them by gripping her bag. What was she worried about?

Was she worried about the same things I was?

Instead of asking, I turned to Vera. “Sveta is to have full control of the

household staff,” I told her. For a moment, disapproval flashed on Vera’s
face and disappeared. “She has the right to make any changes she sees fit.”

It was time that she took her position as my wife—a true position with real
power. But more than that, I wanted to show her that I trusted her to do so.
During our time in Russia, I’d found that she didn’t feel like my wife at all
without a share of my power. This would be the first step to show her that I
was serious about this marriage—even if it was a dead girl’s name on our
certificate.

“Of course,” Vera replied. “I will inform the staff that Sveta Stanislavovna
will be in charge from now on.”

“Of course, I will still need you to help me,” Naomi added, shooting me a
look. “You know everything about this house. I wouldn’t dare take that
away from you, Vera.”

That seemed to mollify Vera a little, and she cleared her throat. “I will get
the mistress a list of the staff and their occupations immediately,” she said.

“No exceptions,” I reminded Vera as I placed my hand on Naomi’s lower

back. “If she wants to change the color of the mansion, she can do so.”

Vera had worked for me for a long time, but I could easily see her twisting
my words to suit her own purposes.

Though I knew she was loyal to me, her loyalty to Naomi was unproven
yet. And I suspected that it would take some time for Naomi to take full and
total control in our household.

Our household. The words didn’t fill me with dread like I thought they
would. Instead, I hoped that this would work, that Naomi would stick with
me no matter what happened in the future.

“Of course, master,” Vera bowed. “I will pass along the information.”

I nudged Naomi to move forward into the house.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a low voice.

“We will talk about it later,” I told her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her
forehead. “Go on upstairs. I will be up in a minute.”

Naomi looked at me with some surprise, but she gave me a nod and walked
up the stairs, her ass swaying with each step.

I watched her all the way up before turning to the waiting Vera.

“I want food delivered to Sveta’s suite,” I told her. “And we are not to be
bothered for the rest of the day.”

Vera smoothed her hair with her hand. “I will see to it at once, master.”
She didn’t ask any questions, and I didn’t expect her to. Not that I would
tell her the reasoning for my actions. I didn’t want to let the good feelings
disappear just yet.

I needed this time with Naomi for my own fucking sanity if nothing else.

After grabbing a few things from my suite, I walked up the stairs to hers.
The shower was running as I stepped inside. Need flashed through my
veins, but I didn’t act on it. Instead, I dumped my stuff in the chair and
pulled off my jacket. It was already lunchtime, and even though I hadn’t
gotten a lot of sleep on the plane, I didn’t feel like crashing just yet.

What the hell was I doing?

I walked over to the balcony doors and threw them open, stepping out onto
the sun-drenched balcony. There was a shitload of things I needed to attend
to now that I was back in LA. But a part of me, the below the belt part,
wanted to hold off just a little longer. Maybe I was being selfish, ignoring
the very things my mother had warned me about, but I didn’t give a shit.

It could wait.

***

“Oh my God, are you serious? Like you’ve never seen this movie before?”

I stole a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in Naomi’s lap. “Nope.”

She stared at me like I had grown two heads. “I mean, it’s a classic, Gavril!
Everyone has seen Vacation.”

“Everyone but me,” I added, throwing a few pieces of the salty snack in my
mouth.

Naomi rolled her eyes and I grinned, unable to help it. Outside it was a
monsoon, the rain lashing against the balcony doors and effectively ruining
our afternoon.

Maybe not ruining it. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon
than lying in bed, the room darkened and this stupid-ass movie on the big
TV. For two days we had been holed up together, getting the meals
delivered and doing things like normal couples did. We had watched a lot of
TV, and little by little Naomi had given me insight into her life. She had
told me about the acting jobs that I had effectively screwed up for her by
kidnapping her, how she had gotten started, and how she made herself
influential.

I hadn’t returned the favor. I still hadn’t told her anything about me, but
what I couldn’t say with words, I had tried to tell her with my touch, with
moments like this one where I tried to let down my guard and just be Gavril
to her.

It was difficult for me to do that. All my life I’d had to be ruthless,

powerful, and strong.

With Naomi, I didn’t have to be, but I didn’t know how else to be anything
else.

She had taken it in stride, keeping our conversations light and not asking
questions when I could clearly see them in her eyes.

“We are going to have to expand your movie selection,” she finally said,
putting the bowl aside. “I mean, I feel like you are missing out on so much
culture, Gavril.”

I reached for her, pulling her on top of me and grinning as she squeaked.
“Why should I?” I murmured as she pushed at my chest. “When I have you
to tell me all about it?”

She laughed, swatting at my chest. “Gavril Kirilenko, did you just make a
joke?”
“Perhaps.” Again, something I wasn’t used to doing. I let her straddle my
body, placing my hands behind my head in a relaxed pose. “What do I get?”

Naomi’s hands rubbed down my chest, tracing a familiar path to my

abdomen. My cock strained against my joggers as she did so, even though
we had just fucked a few hours before. I couldn’t get enough of her, and
Naomi’s sexual appetite had kicked up a notch as well during our time
together.

It was everything I could have asked for in a wife. She was everything that I
could have asked for.

Her fingers drifted to my sides. “What do you want, my Pakhan?”

My grin faded. “Don’t ever call me that.”

Some of the laughter died in her eyes, and I slid my hands up her bare
thighs.

“Because I don’t want to be that to you,” I added, hoping that I would say
the right shit to explain myself. “I’m not your Pakhan. I’m your husband.”

“It is just a word to me,” she whispered. “It’s not who you are.”

When she said shit like that, it made me never want to go back to any of it.
In her eyes, I felt like, well, I felt normal.

Just a regular fucking guy who was in love with his wife.

Who the fuck would have thought I would be in love with anyone again?

“I know,” I finally said, realizing she was waiting for me to answer her.

Naomi leaned down and silenced me with a kiss, her hands coming up to
cup my face. I lost myself in her touch, her lips roaming over mine with the
familiarity that I had come to know. Even with all my faults, she still
wanted to be with me.
I had to make this work, because I didn’t want to think about the alternative
without her.

***

The next afternoon, Naomi watched as I strapped on my watch, tightening

the strap before sliding a hand through my hair.

“Do you really have to go?” she asked softly, the sheet sliding off to reveal
a creamy, inviting shoulder.

My hands ached to touch her, but I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t leave the
bedroom for a long time. “I’ve got business that needs my attention,” I told
her, grabbing my cell phone from the bedside table. “It can’t be put off any
longer.” My cell phone had been blowing up with texts, one in particular
letting me know that my shipment had arrived, and it was time to unload it.

I had to be there for that, so I had asked Anatoly to call the Krasnaya
brigadiers and have them meet me at the docks so that they could bear
witness to what lengths I was willing to go to have them securely on my
side.

Naomi pouted. “You spoiled me too much then.”

Chuckling, I bent down and kissed her hard. “You’re right. You are
spoiled.”

She pushed at my shoulder, but there was a smile on her face when I
stepped back. “I will be back in a few hours,” I said as I walked to the door.
“Feel free to stay naked until then.”

“We will see,” she called out. “Gavril.” I turned and found Naomi now
biting that lower lip. “Be careful, all right?”

Her words wrapped around my fucking heart, and I forced myself to exit
her room before I said something I wasn’t ready to give her or us. I didn’t
know why I hesitated to tell her how I felt.

Maybe it was because there was still a measure of trust that needed to be
earned.

Or the fucking fact that I was terrified of letting all the walls down again.
The last time I had done so, it had nearly cost me everything.

I couldn’t take that chance again.

The car was waiting out front when I stepped out of the door, Ivan holding
the door open. “I want you to stay here,” I told him as I straightened my
jacket.

He didn’t even bat an eye at my request, motioning for one of the guards to
take his place. “Yes, Pakhan.”

I gave him a satisfied nod and climbed inside. In the event that Naomi
needed something, I wanted my own people, my loyal people, to be at her
beck and call. Not with me.

She was far more important right now.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 31
Naomi

I leaned over the toilet bowl again, nausea churning in my gut. Gavril
hadn’t been gone long, and I had wanted to lounge in bed until he came
back. But the impending need to puke up my guts had gotten me out of bed
in a hurry.

But nothing would come, and it was highly annoying.

Sliding back on the floor, I pressed my hand to my forehead, searching for a

fever of some kind that would explain my nausea. Maybe it was the
stomach virus. After all, I had done nothing but eat since we had come back
from Russia.

Maybe I’d picked up something in Russia? I’d heard that it was possible,
even with the finest foods. The body just needed time to adjust.

I rubbed a hand over my face. I didn’t feel odd other than the nausea, and
nothing on my body was falling off, so I didn’t think it was something that I
ate.

That only left one thing.

Quickly, I tried to calculate the last time I had my period and couldn’t come
up with the date at all. Had it been before the wedding?

Realization slapped me in the face like a bolt of lightning.

Oh God. What if I was pregnant? Gavril and I certainly had been having
enough sex to make it happen this quickly. He had been adamant that there
be no protection used. And he certainly made it a point to never pull out.

My hand strayed to my stomach, and I felt nothing different there, but one
look in the mirror and I realized that what I had seen on the plane wasn’t
just lust.
My breasts were bigger. My hair looked fuller. And my skin had a glow to it
that I had mistaken for a lustful blush.

Oh God.

That would explain the eating and nausea, the almost excessive emotions
that had flashed through me over the last few weeks. I had chalked it all up
to exhaustion and stress. But maybe…

There was only one way for me to find out.

I picked myself off the floor and dressed quickly, making sure I was
presentable before walking downstairs for the first time in three days. While
I should have felt embarrassed about the sex fest that had been going on
upstairs, I wasn’t. It had been nice to see Gavril laugh, grin, and just be
himself. We had watched movies and eaten like pigs, and only a few times
had he checked his phone, firing off a few texts before coming right back to
me.

As for me…Well, I didn’t know what to think, really. It was a new side of
him that I liked a lot, maybe even loved more.

Vera met me in the hallway, and I tried not to shy back from her as she did
so. This woman could be perfect for the FBI with the way she always
seemed to be everywhere at once.

“I need something,” I told her, giving her a little smile.

“Of course, mistress,” she stated in her same bored tone. “What is it that
you require?”

I tucked my hair behind my ear, a dull flush coming over my face. “I need a
pregnancy test.”

Vera’s eyes widened just a hair before flickering down to my stomach.

“Well.”
I looked around, hoping that no one else was around for this conversation.
“Please. I would like to keep this quiet.”

She gave me a quick nod, her normally hard gaze softening just a hair. “I
will go get it myself. Do you need something for the nausea too?”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked.

To my surprise, she actually smiled. “I will also pick up some saltines and
ginger ale for you just in case.”

I was shocked, and it took me a few moments to recover. “Thank you, Vera.
That is very nice of you.”

The smile disappeared and she walked off before I could say anything else,
leaving me standing in the hallway. Not quite a breakthrough with the hard-
nosed woman, but something had happened between us, and I had very
little concern about her saying anything about my request either.

Half an hour later, she returned. I took the paper bag from her and raced
upstairs to the bathroom, finding that she had bought me a variety of tests
for me to choose from.

Just to be sure.

I chose the one that would give out the words instead of those stupid lines,
and once I was finished, I laid it on the counter, my arms wrapped around
my waist while I waited.

If I was pregnant, then Gavril would be ecstatic. After all, that was why he
had married me in the first place.

But what would that mean about our relationship? I felt like we had turned
a corner over the last few days, and he was letting me in.

But the pregnancy would force us to take three steps back.

I didn’t want to take three steps back.

If nothing else, I wanted him to love me.

A snort left me as I eyed the tests, waiting for fifteen minutes to pass. Could
he ever love me? Was he even capable of love?

I’d felt the gentleness in his touch, but it didn’t mean that he loved me.

Did I want him to love me? Selfishly, I knew that I wanted him to love
Naomi and not Sveta who carried his child and his future.

I wanted him to love me. Just me and the child we created together.

That was all I wanted.

My throat clogged with emotion, and I cleared it, not wanting to cry right
now. There was nothing I was going to get from tears. If I was pregnant,
then I would deal with it. I would deal with whatever Gavril would do or
not do.

It wasn’t like I had a way out anyway.

With each passing moment, the knots in my stomach tightened, and I

wanted to throw the test in the trash, not find out, and pretend the last few
hours hadn’t existed. It would be putting off the inevitable, but at least I
would still be in the bliss that I had found with Gavril.

Still, when the time was up, I walked over to the sink and picked up the test.

Pregnant.

My knees buckled and I fell onto the seat of the toilet, suddenly finding it
difficult to catch my breath.

I was pregnant with Gavril’s child.

I waited for the despair to come, for the all-consuming fear to take over, but
it didn’t.

Instead, there was this, well, strange feeling, almost like a bubble of
excitement in my chest. Was I truly happy about being pregnant?

I let myself think about what I was feeling, searching deep down to make
sure that I wasn’t overanalyzing anything, and realized that I was happy
about this news.

I wanted to have this child for Gavril, for us.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, rubbing a hand over my stomach lightly. “Hey

there, little one.”

If I had calculated it right, I was probably more than two months along
already.

I had to tell Gavril. Immediately.

After cleaning up my mess, I walked to the door and found Vera coming up
the hall.

“Here,” she said, holding out a cell phone. “Master intended to give you
this upon your return from Russia, but he was, well, preoccupied, and for
good reason.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I took the phone.

“His number is programmed in the phone,” she answered before I could

even ask. “It’s his personal number.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I gave her a small smile before moving
back into the bedroom and shutting the door. My hands trembled as I
thumbed through the phone, finding only a handful of contacts programmed
in it, including Gavril and Vera’s numbers.
My thumb hovered over the call button, and I hesitated. Was doing it over
the phone right? Maybe I should wait until he returned.

But knowing that Vera now suspected it meant that I wasn’t sure who she
would tell herself or if she would call Gavril to tell him. I wanted to be the
person to tell him.

If nothing else, I wanted to hear what he would have to say and decipher his
reaction.

So, I pressed the button and held it up to my ear, rehearsing my words

repeatedly in my head as the phone rang.

When the voice mail kicked in, it was one of the generic ones and I hung up
the phone. I wasn’t going to leave a message.

Not for this, anyway.

Tapping the phone in my hand, I thought about how long it could be before
he returned. I really, really wanted to tell him in person so that he couldn’t
hide his reaction, but I also didn’t want to bother him while he was
working, whatever he was doing.

Deciding to wait at least an hour, I spent the time showering and getting the
bedroom in order for his return, busying myself so that I wouldn’t look at
the clock repeatedly.

It didn’t work. I felt like I was checking the phone every five minutes until
the hour had passed, wondering if Gavril knew the missed call was from
me.

Finally, I made my way down the stairs, looking for Vera and finding her
coming out of the study, a vase of flowers in her hands.

“Do you think that Ivan knows where, um, my husband is?” I asked her. “I
can’t get him on the phone.”
She sat the vase down on the foyer table, turning in a few times to give the
best view of the flowers from the front door. “I’m sure he does. He knows
the master’s schedule well.”

“Do you think you can call for him?” I asked.

Vera stared at me for a long moment before she reached into her own
pocket and pulled out a sleek-looking phone, tapping on it with her
fingertips.

“He will be here in a moment,” she replied, pocketing the phone.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m sorry I’ve bothered you.”

She smirked, adjusting the roses among the other flowers in the vase.

“Do you know that he has never spent that much time away from his duties
before? I’ve served him for a long time, and not once has he ever holed up
in a room for days on end, not with another woman.”

Hope threaded through me at her words. “I—we—”

Vera looked over at me, arching her brow. “You don’t have to explain it to
me. I know exactly what you were doing.”

Of course she did. Luckily, before I had to answer, Ivan walked through the
door, a kind smile on his face. “How can I help you, Sveta Stanislavovna?”

“I—” I started. “I need to go where my husband is. It’s very important.”

His frown was puzzled. “Go?”

I nodded. “I have something to tell him, and it’s imperative I tell him as
soon as possible and in person. Do you happen to know where he went?”

Ivan shook his head. “I don’t. But if you insist on going to him, I can find
out.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “I need to go to him.” Surely Gavril could step
away for a few moments so that I could tell him the news, and then we
could talk about it later on. After all, there wasn’t much to discuss. He had
completed his plan, and I didn’t know where that left me at all in his life.

Ivan gave me a slight bow and pulled out his phone, stepping away to make
the call. I waited with bated breath while he conversed with the person on
the other end, nervously glancing at my watch as he did so. Maybe if we
waited long enough, Gavril would be home and I wouldn’t have to track
him down.

Finally, after a few moments, Ivan re-joined me and Vera, who hadn’t
strayed far from my side.

“He’s at the docks, according to Anatoly,” he said. “He is busy.”

“I’m afraid that I must insist,” I said rather forcibly, feeling horrible that I
had done so. I didn’t want to pull the whole you-have-to-do-what-I-say-
routine, but if he denied me, then I would pull rank. “As I said. It is
imperative I tell him as soon as possible and in person.”

“Take her, Popov,” Vera said suddenly. “Master told us to listen to her. If
she wants to go, who are we to stop her?”

I could have kissed the woman. “I don’t want to be a pest about this.”

Ivan’s jaw clenched, but he gave me a tight nod. “I will bring the car
around.”

I loosened a breath as he disappeared through the door and pocketed the cell
phone. “I’m not trying to leave in any other way,” I said to Vera. “Just—I
think that my husband should hear the news from me.”

Vera gave me a long look. “I agree,” she finally stated. “And I don’t think
you are the type to run from anything, Sveta.”
My name came with a little smirk, telling me that the older woman knew
that I wasn’t even close to the real Sveta. What she thought, I didn’t know,
but I guessed it didn’t matter either. She was telling me that she trusted me,
and that was all that mattered.

“Thank you,” I answered softly. “And for what it’s worth. You guessed
correctly.”

“I know.” She lifted her chin. “And I think that you are good for him. The
best thing that has ever happened to him.”

“He’s good for me,” I replied as Ivan walked back into the house. “And I
mean that.”

She didn’t answer, but there was no need. We were finally on the same page
when it came to Gavril.

“Are you ready, Sveta Stanislavovna?” Ivan asked, his cap in his hands.

I straightened my shoulders and nodded. I didn’t think there was any other
way to be ready for what I was going to tell Gavril, but the time had come
that he needed to know what we had done.

His future was secure.

He had finally gotten Sveta Stanislavovna Orlov, or at least the person

everyone thought was Sveta Stanislavovna Orlov, pregnant.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 32
Gavril

I drummed my fingers along the table’s surface, staring back at the men
who sat before me. They were in varying degrees of comfort, though I
wished all of them were equally worried.

A confident brigadier was one that could be perceived as an enemy instead.

Pakhans and dons might look like they were untouchable, but the ugly truth
was that we weren’t.

Case in point, Stanislav Orlov. There was always someone around the
corner, someone wanting to make a point or get a leg up on their own
fucking ladder. I had learned after the tenth assassination attempt on my life
that my position was never ironclad or safe for that matter.

I’d started to get smart about what I was doing, where I was going, and how
to protect myself.

The men before me were what was left of the Krasnaya Bratva, the
brigadiers that still had pull in the shambles of Orlov’s once-powerful
Bratva and the ones I needed on my side to be loyal to me.

Konstantin Poroshenko, Sergei Puzanov, Ramzin Kovalyov, and Nikolai

Lebedev were the highest-ranking brigadiers that were left. Each one of
them wore in his hard expression the battles that he had fought. The
criminal life was written in the tattoos across their bodies. On their fingers,
their necks, and the stars that I knew hung on their shoulders.

In another time, I could have appreciated the way they coolly assessed me,
especially Konstantin. The old Russian was well known for his brutality in
the criminal underworld, and I knew better than to let his age fool me into
thinking he was harmless.

He had been Orlov’s most trusted man, the one that he went to for
everything. If Konstantin refused to bow, then no one would.
“Pakhan,” he said with the practiced air of friendly interrogation perfected
in the hell of Russian prisons. “I hear rumors that I’d like to ask you about.”

I kept my expression neutral. “With what intentions do you ask?”

His eyes narrowed at the expected answer. I drew my line in the sand,
reminding him that I was a Pakhan and he a brigadier. In the pecking order
of things, he had no right to ask anything of me other than forgiveness.

“I meant no disrespect,” he said slowly, breaking protocol. “But there are

rumors that you aren’t married to Stanislav’s daughter at all. That you
deceived us all at the wedding.”

Arching a brow, I looked at the other men. Now it was my turn to ask. “Do
the rest of you believe that?”

There were a few clearings of throats, but for the most part, the rest refused
to meet my eyes, giving me the answer I needed.

“They say she’s an imposter,” Konstantin added, drawing my attention back

to him. “That you did it to pull us to your side.”

I let out a dark chuckle, my wedding band catching on the light overhead
and reminding me of what I had waiting for me at home. I wanted to be
done with this business so that I could go back and climb into bed with
Naomi, to reclaim some of the warmth I had already lost by stepping into
this room with these fuckers.

I might need them, but I sure as hell didn’t like them.

“You mean no disrespect,” I repeated his words. “Yet you sit here insulting
my honor with every word. Do you take me to be a dishonorable man?”

He didn’t flinch at the harsh tone of my voice. “I merely ask, Pakhan.

Desperate men have done less.”
A barb that I expected, but it didn’t piss me off any less. I wanted to bury
one of my knives in his fucking eye socket for the way he was looking at
me, but I couldn’t. He was deliberately goading me, trying to give him a
reason to challenge me for my throne.

He was cunning, but I knew how this game was played. “Do you believe
me to be a desperate man? Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“No.” Konstantin shook his head, yielding ground in this invisible chess
game. “I merely wish to inform you that there are rumors.”

“Rumors.” I nodded. “This is my wife you are talking about. Stanislav’s

daughter. His body is hardly cold in the ground, and already you spit on his
memory.”

Konstantin’s eyes hardened, but he remained still.

That’s right, old man, I thought viciously. Know your place.

Finally, he dipped his head and I knew I had won this round. I needed to
keep my eye on him and what he was telling the others so that I could head
off any sort of rise against me in the future.

“I am demanding your loyalty,” I finally said. “To make a better existence

for the Belaya Bratva to run not only LA but the entire West Coast.” I
leaned forward, giving them a hard smile. “Under my name, you will be
kings. Under my protection, I can give you the world. All I require is your
loyalty.” It was a bold statement, and I knew I was pushing the envelope.
But they needed to see me as overconfident.

I wanted them to underestimate me. It always worked out better that way.

“And what will we receive in exchange for our loyalty?” he countered, just
as I expected him to. “Other than our lives?”

Another smirk as I pushed the chair away and stood, straightening my cuffs.
“Far more than Stanislav ever gave you.”
“Oh?” Konstantin stated as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I swore
inwardly and ignored it.

I gave him a slight smile. “Follow me and I will show you.”

I didn’t wait for them to follow as I stalked down the hall toward the door.
There were so many things I wanted to do to these men. I wanted to slam
them up against the wall and show each of them who truly was in charge,
but not yet.

There would likely be a day when I inevitably exerted my power over them.
And Konstantin would be the first one who would feel my wrath. Deep
down, I knew he would be the one to step out of bounds—to reach higher
than his lot in life when he was comfortable enough to do so.

Expect the worst, and nothing will surprise you.

The door opened as I approached, and Anatoly stood on the other side.

“Everything has been delivered as promised, Pakhan,” he said.

“And the contents?” I asked evenly.

“Whole and unharmed,” Anatoly replied smoothly. “I’ve inspected them

myself.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Konstantin asked from behind.

I stepped aside to allow the former Krasnaya brigadiers to step out into the
dying afternoon sun, watching their faces as they gazed upon the women
standing before them.

“A token of good faith,” I told them, clasping my hands behind my back.

“To show you I am a man of my word and that this will be the beginning of
a long and fruitful partnership between us.”
The women had been well cared for on the shipment over, their clothing
clean, and there were no outward signs of trauma on their faces. I felt the
twist of my gut as I gazed upon them, Naomi’s face flickering into my
mind. She would be horrified if she were here. She wouldn’t see the bigger
picture of what these women represented.

They represented our future.

“Choose any that you like,” I offered as each man stepped forward. “Keep
them if you wish. If not, they go to the market tomorrow.”

There was a gleam in Konstantin’s eye as he approached one of the women,

his hand reaching out to touch the black tresses of her hair. She flinched at
his touch and kept her eyes downward, likely hoping that if she didn’t meet
his eyes, he might leave her alone. Poor fool.

Konstantin grinned. “A Ukrainian,” he breathed as he grabbed her arm and

threw her forward. “Go on over there. I want you to have a partner.”

The other brigadiers finally stepped forward, and I watched with a neutral
expression as they examined each woman, one of them laughing as he
pulled a woman closer and tried to kiss her. Another reached for a woman’s
ass, grabbing it hard as he ground against her body and she tried to push
away, only adding fuel to the fire.

“I’m a man of my word,” I said. “Stanislav would never have given such
prizes to you.”

“Indeed?” Konstantin nodded as he wrapped his arm around a golden-eyed

Chechen. She looked at his every move with hatred in her eyes, as if she
was calculating how to kill him when she got the chance. “None for you?”

Another fucking test. The man was endless in his taunting. “I will be
faithful to my wife until she bears my child,” I replied evenly.

He shrugged and pulled the Chechen girl over to him. “Come here,
devushka. I want to see that fiery temper your people are so famous for.”
She returned his gaze, and he smiled cruelly before shoving her next to the
Ukrainian girl.

I wanted to leave but stood my ground, needing to ensure that I had his
word and the others.

“Well?” I asked as Puzanov already had his cock buried in one of the
women, fucking her roughly against the building as tears ran down her face.
“Have we a deal?”

Puzanov smirked, his face red with exertion as he glanced back at me, then
at Konstantin, who was still playing with his women.

“This is a good start,” Konstantin finally replied, his veiled gaze on me.
“But how am I to know you’re not giving us the best now, and then pigs and
dogs later?”

“I’m a man of my word,” I replied evenly. “So long as you keep your word
and there is peace in my Bratva without any interference.”

Konstantin clenched his jaw but finally gave me a single nod. To the side, a
slap sounded as Lebedev struck one of the women who was foolish enough
to fight back. He backhanded her so hard that she fell to the ground in a
heap. The other women stepped back, panic on their faces, but no one ran.

Even if they did. Where could they go?

The woman shrieked, but Lebedev was already on her, holding her hands
over her head as he fumbled with his pants, pressing her deep into the rough
concrete. She could scream all she liked, and no help would ever come.

I turned away as Lebedev buried himself inside the woman. Screams turned
to sobs. Sobs turned to silence. And the only sounds left were the sounds of
men grunting in pleasure.
Anatoly stood next to me, silent as I was as the Krasnaya brigadiers raped
the women. Anatoly rested his hand casually on the gun in his waistband,
just in case someone got out of line and decided to take a shot at me instead.

“What do you want me to do?” Anatoly murmured.

Konstantin forced the Chechen girl to her knees, laughing as he tried to

shove his cock into her clenched mouth.

“About what?” I asked brusquely as the sick scene unraveled before me.

“About them,” he stated. “Do you want me to put eyes on them?”

I knew what he was thinking. I had them in the palm of my hand right now,
but when they walked away from this dock, did I truly know if they were
going to follow through with their end of the agreement?

I wasn’t so certain who they would ultimately align themselves with, but
any threat was enough right now.

Suddenly a cry of pain came up and I turned my attention back. Ramzin

Kovalyov, the smallest brigadier of the group, was doubled over in pain.
His hand covered his cock. Evidently the woman he’d chosen had bitten
him. A smile almost drifted to my lips. Suddenly, Ramzin lashed out and
kicked the woman viciously in the stomach.

She collapsed to the ground, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“SUKA! SUKA! SUKA!” he screamed as he kicked her again and again.

Each blow was harder than the last. She tried to cover her body from his
assault. When she covered her ribs, he began to stomp on her knees, her
body, and her head.

She coughed, and a puddle of blood splattered on the ground.

Huffing, Ramzin went over to the Ukrainian woman, watching in terror, and
pushed her to her knees. He pulled out a knife from his pocket and held it at
her temple as he shoved his cock in her mouth.

“Keep an eye on them and put a bullet in their head if you get a whiff of
trouble,” I said to Anatoly. “I don’t trust these fucking animals.”

Anatoly nodded. “It’ll be done.”

“That’s enough,” I turned to the Krasnaya brigadiers. “What depravity you

choose to do behind close doors is your choice. But if you are to be a part of
my Bratva, you will learn to treat my gifts with some respect.”

“Of course, Pakhan,” Konstantin smiled sickly. “We just got a little excited.
That’s all. Didn’t we, boys?”

A murmur of consent rose up among the others.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” I said. “Get the fuck out of here.”

I turned and walked away, having accomplished all that I could for now.
There was other business that I needed to attend to before I could go back to
the mansion.

To Naomi.

I found my own car waiting and climbed inside. “Take me to the Sapphire
Club,” I told the driver before settling back, glad to watch the docks
disappear from view. The Sapphire Club was another neutral site for
organized crime to conduct our business, and there were other contracts I
needed to broker regarding weapons and drugs. Now that I had the upper
hand, I wasn’t about to let it fall.

I pulled out my phone and checked for the missed call that I had ignored
earlier.

Naomi.

Naomi had tried to call me.

Vera must have given her the cell phone I had ordered for her. I dialed the
number, holding it up to my ear.

It rang a few times before going to a generic voice mail, and I frowned.
Maybe Vera had been testing it out instead and hadn’t given it to Naomi yet.

My dark mood returned, and I pocketed the cell phone, clenching my jaw. I
would have to wait until I could finish this business before I could see her.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 33
Naomi
Moments before

The car moved quickly through the streets, and I tried to tamp down the
excitement that had been building inside me since I climbed in. I still
couldn’t believe that I was pregnant. I knew it was the plan all along. But
now that it was here and real, I really didn’t know what to do or say about
it.

One thing was for sure: I wanted it to be a happy occasion, to see Gavril’s
face light up because I was carrying his child and not because the last piece
of his plan had clicked into place.

Biting my lower lip, I let my hand rest on my still-flat stomach as I mulled

over the reaction I thought that Gavril might have. After the last few days, I
hoped that he would pick me up in his arms and tell me that he was happy,
that I had made him happy with the news.

Then we could go back to the mansion and celebrate together, maybe with a
nice dinner and plans for what was to come.

The problem was, I couldn’t picture any of it. Somehow, fear started to take
the place of my happiness. I didn’t want to think of the bad things that could
happen, like that he could actually be upset that I had gotten pregnant too
quickly.

I pushed that thought away as soon as it crossed my mind. That wasn’t

going to be the case at all. Regardless of what Gavril thought about it, he
wanted this child. He needed this child.

I sighed as I leaned back against the seat, wishing that my life was just a tad
bit easier. I hadn’t really given much thought to what I was going to be
bringing this child into or if I was going to even be around for their
milestones.
There were rumors, fewer rumors and more truths, that Mafia bosses
weren’t faithful. They didn’t have traditional marriages. Their wives were
there to give them children and nothing more. Others had numerous
mistresses and an endless string of illegitimate children.

Was that what I was looking at? Was that going to be my future with
Gavril?

And what if our child was a girl? Would he treat her just as he would a boy?
Or would she be raised to the slaughter like Sveta had been?

There was a lot to process, and I knew I didn’t have all the answers, but the
only way I was going to start getting them was to tell Gavril first.

Nervous butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I thought about him, about

how much had changed from when he left the bedroom earlier. Our lives
were going to change, no matter what his plans were.

My life was going to change.

The car pulled into an empty lot, the smell of the water filling the air
immediately. “The Pakhan is just over there,” Ivan replied, pointing to a
building a few feet away.

I started to climb out, but a huge ship caught my eye at the end of the dock,
and I watched as women were marched out of the hull, some shielding their
eyes from the brightness of the sun.

What the hell?

They were lined up in a straight line, and a funny feeling squirmed in the pit
of my stomach as I realized that it was Gavril’s right-hand man, Anatoly,
directing them.

Usually wherever Anatoly was, Gavril was as well.

Fortunately, there was a line of cars that blocked ours, and we had yet to be
noticed, but I could see enough to know that it was Anatoly there.

Anatoly walked over to a door on the building and opened it, and my heart
went in my throat as I watched Gavril’s tall form walk out, followed by a
group of men behind him. He was gesturing to the women, and I hated the
way that I felt everything hollow out in my chest.

Something was wrong. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and didn’t want
to roll down my window to hear his words either. This was the business that
he had rushed off to today?

What was he doing with those women?

Who were those men?

Anxiety climbed up in my throat, but I tamped it down, clenching the door

handle but not opening it. As much as I hated to see whatever this was, I
couldn’t look away.

When the men started toward the women, I bit my lip hard to keep from
crying out, watching as they grabbed them, threw them on their knees,
pushed them against the walls. It was obvious what they were doing. I
watched as some of the women tried to fight, tried to pull away, but were
unsuccessful.

Then one of the men with Gavril reached out and hit one of the women. I
couldn’t hold back my gasp.

The woman fell to the ground and the man was on her in a minute, with
very little doubt as to what he was doing to her.

Oh God.

All the while, Gavril and Anatoly stood aside and watched as the men raped
these women, and I tried to think of reasons that he wouldn’t interfere with
this, this brutality. Maybe he was blind or had been threatened to not
interfere.

Maybe this really wasn’t reality and any moment I would be waking in his
arms and shake off the horrible nightmare.

I was a moment away from rolling down the window and screaming for
them to stop. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t some drug or gun deal that I
thought Gavril was involved in.

These were innocent women!

I was powerless to stop it. If I exposed myself, there was no telling what
would happen to me, and I doubted it would matter if I was carrying
Gavril’s child or not.

Nausea roiled in my stomach, and I wanted to look away from the horrible
scene, but it was like a bad car wreck, pulling me in to watch every
moment.

And all the while, the father of my child stood there.

He stood there and watched.

The man I loved—the man I thought I loved—the man who was supposed
to mean everything to me.

I was sick to my stomach.

Suddenly, one of the men gave out a cry of pain. Then, he threw a woman
to the ground and started kicking her viciously. Her shrieks of pain
reverberated in the air, and I felt my heart stop.

Why are you just standing there? Why won’t you do something to stop this!
Please, Gavril! I begged silently.
I didn’t know who was standing out there anymore, but he wasn’t the same
man that had laughed with me. He wasn’t the same man who’d smiled at his
sisters and given them everything he could to keep them happy.

In his place was a monster.

And I was pregnant with his child.

“Drive,” I whispered to Ivan, unable to take anymore. “Please. Just drive.”

He didn’t hesitate, pulling away from the scene quickly and back onto the
road. I waited until we were a good distance away before I begged him to
pull over.

I climbed out of the car and vomited in the grass. Tears ran down my cheeks
as I emptied the contents of my stomach. I could still hear the shrieks of the
women. And the image of what I saw was seared into my brain.

“Ma’am?”

I turned and found Ivan standing beside me, a worried look on his face as
he held out a handkerchief and a bottle of water.

I didn’t know what he thought about the scene or if it was something he had
seen before, but it wasn’t like he was out there standing in Gavril’s shoes.

“Thank you,” I whispered, taking the items from him.

He gave me a small nod and shuffled back to the car, leaving me alone to
clean myself up and take a few sips of water.

When I finally climbed back in the car, his eyes found mine in the rear-view
mirror. “Shall we go back home?”

Home…
I found myself nodding mechanically, not sure if the mansion was my home
anymore. Suddenly, I was reminded of how I came here in the first place.
Suddenly, I was reminded of the night before our wedding. The night after
our wedding. Those torturous weeks when I was nothing but a set of warm
holes to Gavril.

I wasn’t sure I belonged in this life, in Gavril’s life, period.

***

Ivan pulled the car back onto the road and I leaned back in the seat, my
entire body shaking and weak. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go back and
look at Gavril and not remember how he had stood by and watched those
women be raped and beaten.

My cell phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out with

shaking hands, seeing Gavril’s name flashing on the screen. My heart
seized.

Had he seen me? Did he know that I had been watching him and had seen it
all?

Had someone alerted him that I was away from the mansion?

My thumb hovered over answering the call before I pulled it away, placing
the cell phone on the seat next to me and letting it go to voice mail. I
couldn’t talk to him right now. I couldn’t even form a coherent thought
when it came to him.

My heart was shattered into a million pieces.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to just shut off the tide of feelings I had
developed for Gavril over the past few weeks, but it was clear that I had
never known him to start with.

The phone finally went silent, and I let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t left a
voice mail or a text, much like I hadn’t done earlier.
If I had, I might have been able to avoid seeing what I had witnessed. But in
the end, it was probably best that I had seen it.

After all, it had opened my eyes to who Gavril Kirilenko truly was.

A monster.

I hated that I had seen the ugly truth. In that single moment, the bubble of
happiness that I’d fooled myself into believing was pierced.

I had foolishly thought that this might actually work out in my favor for
once. Instead, I had been disappointed yet again.

Yet again, my life was in shambles, and there was nothing I could do about
it.

Except this time, I had more at stake. A child. One that I would protect with
my life. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

Fuck whatever Gavril had planned. This was my child as well, and I would
die before I subjected him or her to the cruel reality that I should have
remembered from the beginning.

I had to keep my child safe from its monster of a father.

Now I would be smart to remember it all the next time Gavril was in my
presence.

A man like that couldn’t love anyone. All the gentleness that he had shown
me—everything that I thought meant something more than just that stupid
plan of his—was just a lie.

“You’re tougher than this,” I whispered to myself, staring out of the

window. I had endured so much in my life that even Gavril didn’t know
about. I wasn’t some weak girl that he had put in his life.
He was going to find out that I was stronger than I looked and a hell of a lot
smarter too.

And love, love wasn’t going to be on my lips any longer.

Despair washed through me as we crossed through the gates to the mansion.

And just like that, it was no longer my home but my prison.

Exactly how it had looked all those months ago.

OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE
Jon

I grinned as I snapped a few more pictures of Naomi on the side of the road,
not even caring that she was puking up her guts. After she had gone dark
for weeks, I had finally found her.

And fuck! She looked better than I ever remembered.

An older man climbed out of the driver’s side and walked around the car,
handing her a bottle of water and saying a few words to her before making
his way back. How long had I camped out at the bottom of the hill, waiting
for the moment that she would leave the mansion so that I might get a
glimpse of her?

Hell, I had spent more time than I planned on. Everything had been put on
halt as I waited for her to make an appearance again.

Her trip to Russia had been unexpected, and I hadn’t been able to work it
out so that I could follow her in person.

But no matter.

Seeing Naomi wasn’t the only thing I had witnessed today. I thought about
the photos I had snapped of what had happened on the docks and knew
those for what they were worth.

A fucking goldmine.

Naomi was going to bring me more than just herself, it seemed, and it
couldn’t have worked out any better for me or for her.

She just didn’t know how well yet, but she would.

I watched her wipe her mouth, and I licked my lips as she took a sip of the
water. When was the last time I had touched her?
When was the last time I had kissed her mouth, caressed her skin?

It had been a hell of a long time, actually, and now that she was so close, I
wanted to climb out of my car and take her with me.

She would be surprised to see me, I was sure of that. But in time, she would
get used to being around me again. I was better than the asshole that was in
the mansion, that was for sure. I would worship the ground at her feet. Treat
her like the queen she was.

He didn’t know Naomi like I did. He didn’t know what she liked, what she
wanted. We had been separated for so long, but I’d never forgotten a damn
thing about her.

Not.

A.

Thing.

But I needed to bide my time and make sure I did this fucking right this
time. I had plans, plans that were going to fall right into place as long as I
didn’t fuck things up.

I had nearly lost her once. I wasn’t going to do so again.

The breeze caught her hair and I reached for my cock, already out the
moment I knew I was going to get a glimpse of her today.

She looked fucking amazing.

Naomi started back to the car, and I slid my hand over my cock roughly,
feeling the need for release building in my groin. No one was like her. No
one had ever come close to what she had done to me, what she made me
feel.
No matter what I tried to do, how many times I had tried to replace her, she
was like a drug. Anything else would always leave me disappointed and
wholly unsatisfied.

I pumped myself faster as Naomi climbed into the car. I closed my eyes as
it drove away.

“Fuck,” I breathed, my pulse racing as I gripped myself harder. She was

right there, so close I could smell her.

So, I did what I always had done. I tilted my head back and pictured Naomi
as I remembered her, those plump, pouty lips and big eyes staring up at me.
And suddenly we were nineteen again in college. She was on her knees in
front of me, her soft, silky lips wrapped around my cock.

“Oh fuck!” I strained as I felt my release explode over my fingers. The

entire front of my jeans was now wet and sticky with my semen.

I found a dirty shirt on the floorboard of my car and snatched it up, cleaning
my hand off the best I could before tucking myself back into my pants and
pulling out onto the road. All my planning, all my decisions were coming
down to the wire now, and soon I was going to have everything I ever
wanted.

What Naomi had given me today was a way to have her, a way to achieve
what I had wanted for years.

A grin crossed my face and I rolled down the window, turning up the radio.

What a great fucking day to be alive.

END OF BOOK 1

Gavril and Naomi’s story continues in Book 2: Broken Bride

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RZPHV2Q
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