Bratva Vows Complete Box Set: A Dark Mafia Romance
Page 41
I glance at Alexei who keeps looking at Misha’s body in shock. “You know, Allyov. You have a good man, a very good man right under your nose.”
I’d always assumed Alexei was a thug and nothing more, but when I found out about Misha, I did a lot of digging on both men, with help from Damen. Alexei isn’t stupid. In fact, he got a degree in business and finance, and he can be what Allyov really needs. Someone who wants to be more than he is right now. Who’d work hard for a chance to step up in the organization.
“You should give Alexei the chance you were going to offer me.”
Alexei turns to me in shock, his eyes widening.
“You’re smart, Alexei, and you’re fucking loyal if everything I’ve found out is true. They didn’t go straight to Misha, Allyov. They approached others in your organization. They didn’t offer straight up money for information, they’d supply drinks, women, flattery; you know the score. Anything to make their mark feel like a big man. If the person blabbed, even a little, they knew they could work on them. Alexei said nothing, not even when they plied him with vodka and sent a prostitute to bed with him.”
Alexei clears his throat. “Not sure what you heard, Andrius, but I’ve not been with any prostitutes.”
“You have, you simply didn’t know. The redhead,” I tell him. “Six months ago.”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “Oh fuck.”
“Indeed, always pays to be careful. But even though you were fucking shitfaced and having your balls sucked through your dick, you didn’t talk.”
Allyov looks to Alexei and smiles. “Maybe we need to talk?”
Alexei stands a little taller and nods. “Good with me, boss.”
“So you’re leaving us, but you will always be my friend.” Allyov turns back to me. “My brother, by affection and loyalty if not by blood.”
I nod and go to give the old fucker a hearty, backslapping hug.
He might be morally abhorrent, but Allyov has, in his twisted, fucked up way, saved my life by giving me Violet.
Now, he’s letting me go, and I believe he truly is because I saw the defeat in him when he realized I was walking away for real.
So he is morally bankrupt, and a mob boss, but he’s also something of a twisted farther figure to me, and I meant it when I said I’d always be loyal to him. I simply can’t work for him any longer.
As I go to leave the room, I turn to him. “And thanks for the gift. Best thing you ever gave me.”
I grin at the surprise on his face, and then I’m walking out the door, my thoughts already with Violet.
She’s mine, in every way, and of her own free will and volition, which is the best damn gift any man can get.
“You know,” Sergei’s voice follows me out of the door, “I think you will be back one day, my friend. You’re a fighter, and the fight is all that matters in the end.”
I don’t answer because he’s wrong.
The fight isn’t all that matters in the end.
Love is.
Chapter 14
Violet
The sun is so hot today for the time of year here. The cicadas are singing, or maybe it’s the crickets. I can’t tell the difference still.
I stand on the edge of the terrace, looking out over the balcony, and my heart soars. It’s so beautiful here.
Levi trots out to stand beside me. He’s panting, and I feel for him, so I head inside to the air conditioned comfort of the villa.
It’s been nearly four months since Andrius walked away from Allyov and his role in the organization. He’s not only walked away from his job, but his revenge. One of the men who murdered his family still lives, but Andrius insists he’s letting it go.
He seems … different. I wouldn’t say calmer because he hardly ever seemed stressed. In fact, I’d say he seems more alive. More open.
The hard shell he always wore is gone, replaced by a slightly softer version of the man I first noticed all those months ago sat at Allyov’s table.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s still scary as hell. A couple of weeks ago, we were at a market, and a guy pinched my bottom. Andrius twisted his hand so hard, the man was screaming. Made him apologize to me and said if he ever heard of him touching women against their will again, he’d hunt him down and surgically remove his balls. So yeah, my attack dog is still there, under the surface, but on the surface?
He’s different. The rare look I used to see on his face, the one where his eyes were more smoke than steel, that look is there a lot more these days. He still gets nightmares sometimes and he still works out when they plague him. He’s still quiet and introspective a lot of the time, and I think the toll of his past life weighs on him. I like to think that every day we spend here in the sun, it burns a bit more of the past away.
Yesterday was a big day for him. He went for a trail run, only for twenty minutes, but it’s the first run he’s done since he was shot. His leg is healing properly now, and it makes me happy to see him getting back to his old self physically.
The air in the villa is such a contrast to the baking heat outside, it makes my flesh pucker along my arms as I slide the doors open and step inside.
We have guests at the villa this weekend. Damen and Alesso. The two men are here for a few days taking a break. Apparently, things are bad in their work life. I don’t know the details, and I don’t want to, but Andrius says there are massive changes happening within the Greek mob, and it is impacting them too.
Thank God we aren’t part of that life anymore. Although, I don’t think Andrius has fully left it. He sees Damen and Alesso, and talks with Allyov regularly. I fear one day he’ll get sucked back in.
It seems to me while there may be a certain honor amongst thieves—and mobsters—there is also a shitload of backstabbing and danger.
The patio doors I’ve stepped through lead into a massive open space living area, with an open plan kitchen, a sitting area, and a dining space. Then there are double doors leading out into a spacious hallway. Off the hallway is a smaller living area, and unlike the large open plan space, this one has carpets and a fireplace, which means we will it use it more in the winter.
At the end of the corridor is a downstairs bathroom, and to the side of that, a study.
Upstairs there are three bedrooms on the next floor, each with its own bath. Then on the floor above is another bedroom, a bathroom, and a cozy little den. Justina stays there, but these last couple of months she’s been going back to England quite a bit. Andrius’ house is turning out to be quite the hit with film producers and location scouts, and she loves being there sorting out bookings and meeting and greeting cast and crew for filming days.
She’s also started seeing Angela, Andrius’ therapist, and they are due for a break out here in a couple of weeks.
The front door opens, but Levi doesn’t bark, he never does, but his ears prick up, and his whole body goes on alert. Then he hears a familiar voice, and he begins to waggle his body from side to side.
Andrius walks into the room, and he’s flanked by Damen and Alesso. They are enough together to take any red-blooded female’s breath away. All three of them are tall, tan, dark haired and handsome as hell.
Andrius is the most stunning out of the three, though. With his unusual eyes and chiseled, perfect features. He could honestly be a top model, if he weren’t quite so muscular, and he didn’t have scarred up arms and hands.
“Agapi mou.” He smiles as he uses his new favorite pet term for me. It means my love in Greek.
The showoff is already picking up the language. I know hello, thank you, and how are you. That’s it.
The other day, I complained how sometimes when I went out on my own I got stared at if I wandered into a less touristy area. Andrius told me to say to any man gawping at me, “Ti thes re malaka.” I asked him what it meant, and he said, what do you want, wanker. Funnily enough, I’ve decided not to use that one.
Andrius stalks to me, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me thoroughly.
Damen tosses me a nod and a small smile. He’s always so serious. So reserved. Hardened, like Andrius.
“I made a feast for tonight,” I tell Andrius.
“Oh yes, what did you cook?”
I smile at the thought of the delicious mezze we’ll be eating in a couple of hours.
“What didn’t I cook?” I laugh. I’ve discovered a love of cooking since living in Greece, and the local produce here on Corfu is delicious.
The tomatoes! I’ve never tasted tomatoes like it.
They are simply stunning. So juicy and sweet.
“Hope you made tzatziki and some stuffed vine leaves?” Alesso asks.
“Of course. I did a whole mezze. I’ve got all sorts of things. I’ve been cooking most of the day.”
“Come take a break. Shall we all go for a swim?” Andrius asks.
I know he means in the sea from the beach at the bottom of a tiny path leading from our villa down the rocky hillside to the shore below.
“In the pool?” I tease.
He gives me a mock serious look. “No, you know I prefer the ocean. Come. We’ll all go for a swim.”
And we do.
The four of us gather our things, putting on swimwear under our clothes, and with water for us, and water for Levi, we set off down to the beach. It’s only small, a tiny patch of sand between two cliffs, but it means we nearly always have it to ourselves. The only real path to the beach is from our villa, and otherwise you have to risk your ankles walking down the uneven, steep hillside, or get there by boat. It’s not our beach, we don’t own it, but we may as well do.
When Andrius first proposed moving to Corfu to me, I’d been shocked to hell. He’d said only for a few months, see how it went, but he felt the need to get away from the U.K for a while. There is nothing back there for me, so I happily agreed. This villa is gorgeous, but we don’t own it. We only rent it.
We’ve both agreed if we like our first winter out here, we’ll look for properties to buy.
Andrius has installed a home gym in the garage attached to the villa, and he works out every day, trying to get his strength back to what it was before the accident.
He also writes every day. He’s penning a thriller, and I have to say, from what little I’ve read, it’s good. Very good.
As for me. I’m still doing the distance learning course on dog training, but I’ve kind of fallen into a business of my own, totally by accident.
I drew a picture of her dog for Isla. She loved it and showed it to all her friends, and I got so many requests to do their pets. I did, and things ballooned. Andrius told me I really had to start charging, and at first I only charged enough to cover the materials and my time. But as word of mouth spread, I found I had backlogs of orders, and people asking if I had a website.
I didn’t, but I do now. Andrius paid a fortune for someone to set me up a website, and an Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook page, all linked to one another and all featuring my drawings. Now I run all of the social media myself, and the person Andrius hired updates the website for me with new pictures when I have them.
I do charcoal drawings of beloved pets by request, but I also draw the wildlife I see all around me here, and I’ve had a lot of purchases of my limited edition prints. It’s kind of surreal. I can charge up to a thousand pounds for a large framed print. And now I have a waiting list for my pet portraits!
We reach the beach, and there is no one here but us four … well five, if you include Levi, which I absolutely do. He’s already running around like crazy, wanting someone to go find a stick to throw for him.
He’ll come and swim with us when Andrius and I get into the sea. It’s hot, and the ocean is the clear blue you get here in the Aegean.
I love it here so much. I feel as if I’ve come home, which is crazy as I’ve never been before. The main thing, though, is how much it suits Andrius. He’s blossomed here, like a flower that needed the sun to unfurl from a tight, closed off bud.
He pulls his t-shirt over his head, leaving him in only his swim shorts. My stomach tightens at the glory that is him. He’s tan now, his skin a deep olive, his hair that was so dark in the UK has lightened in the Greek sun to a warmer brown, and his warm hair and skin tones contrast beautifully with his cool as ice eyes.
His body is strong and toned, but he still has the scars on his leg. They will never go, but they should fade more overtime. He’s bothered by them a little, I think. I don’t know for sure because he doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t ask. I told him once I loved it as much as the rest of him because he got it saving a woman’s life. After all, if he hadn’t gone to meet Boris, I have no doubt Carmel would be dead.
I watch my tan, relaxed, and infinitely happier man as he turns to me and crooks his finger, smiling. It used to be a rarity to see him smile, but now he does it a lot.
I’m different too. My hair is lighter still, but I have a pale tan. I don’t think I’ll ever tan much more than the lightest gold, but I look healthier than I have in years. My eyebrows and eyelashes have followed my hair, though, in going three shades lighter in the sun, and with my eyes being dark blue, I think I look weird. Andrius says it’s beautiful. Still, most days I put a slick of brown mascara on so I won’t frighten people.
I place the bag I brought with me down and go to Andrius. He picks me up in his arms, as he always does, and runs into the sea with me.
It’s a routine we have now. He makes a joke of it, saying he has to check for eels and crocodiles, taking me back to the night we made love by the pool.
A few moments later and he lets me go, and I turn to see Levi doggie paddling his way to us.
Damen and Alesso are both heading down the beach to the shoreline, and then they’re diving into the waves and swimming to join us.
The guys get into it, and soon they’re doing laps up and down between the cliffs, while I circle around lazily on my back, Levi paddling back and forth between myself and Andrius as if he isn’t sure who to be with.
When the guys have had enough, we head back up the beach, and I pass around towels for us all to lie on and dry off.
After our swim, we head inside and eat the amazing, if I say so myself, feast I’ve prepared. The guys talk, and I let their conversation flow over me. It seems Damen and Alesso have yet another babysitting job, this time for a girl who is about to marry into a top family within the Greek mob. I hadn’t realized just how high up within that world these two men are. It’s so odd because they seem nice, ordinary almost, if you discount their build and Damen’s scowl, but they’re anything but. Damen casually mentions how they will take a bullet for her if needs be, but he hopes it doesn’t come to that.
As they eat, the men are sharing a bottle of red wine, but I’ve refused. I have a secret, and it’s eating me up inside, but I can’t share it yet.
I’m terrified to tell Andrius, unsure of how he’ll react, but I want to tell him when we’re alone, together in our bed. So I eat and make merry, but the whole time, as the evening draws nearer and nearer to the time we’ll all retire, my nerves grow.
By bedtime, I’m a wreck, and I fumble a glass as I’m passing them to Andrius to load the dishwasher, and it smashes all over the floor.
I glance up at him, and something passes between us. A memory of another time I smashed a glass and what Andrius said to me then. I remember only too well, him promising me a spanking.
“Go to bed, agapi mou, and I will finish clearing this up,” Andrius orders.
I do as he says, hoping he won’t be too long. I’ve finished cleaning my teeth when he comes into the room.
“Hurry up,” I tell him when he heads into the bathroom.
He turns and gives me a dark look. Oh, he thinks I want sex. No, I want to tell him what our having so much sex has resulted in.
What only seems two minutes later, he turns off the bathroom light and pads across the room. He’s gloriously naked and aro
used.
His arousal makes me aroused, and he reaches for me as he pulls the cotton sheet back, but I scoot away and put my hand up.
He pauses, one knee on the bed, the other leg still firmly planted on the floor and waits.
“We need to talk,” I say.
He sighs and gets into bed. “Words to strike fear into any man,” he jokes, but his smile tells me he doesn’t mean it.
I try to think of a way to broach the subject. Something cutesy like, how do you think a cot would look in this room? But I can’t. I’m not a cutesy kind of a girl, so instead I blurt out, “I’m pregnant.”
Andrius stops breathing. He stares at me, and he doesn’t say a thing for the longest time.
We’ve been doing good. Really good. We’ve even had a few blazing rows like any normal couple and then made up. I’ve learned a normal row with Andrius, as opposed to the your-father-raped-my-sister kind of horror show, is pretty mundane. He doesn’t shout or really do much of anything except for get increasingly impatient with me, and really, it’s a one-sided blazing row because I’m the only one doing the blazing. I always end up losing my temper, and he ends up telling me I’m irrational, which only makes me more angry, and then I storm off for half an hour until I’ve calmed down.
I go find him, normally apologize first, and then he says sorry, and we make up. I told my therapist, who I still speak with weekly via Skype, and she said it is all wonderfully normal.
I trust him. He’s never once raised his voice to me, never mind a finger, well, except for one time when I asked him to grab me by the throat. He seemed horrified and refused, but I asked him and asked him, told him I wanted to show him something, so he did in the end. Half-heartedly. I had him on the floor in seconds thanks to the training Ethan gave me.
I think it’s the most shocked I’ve ever seen him. Until now.
“I’m sorry,” I say, unsure of what I’m apologizing for.
“How?” he asks. “You’re on the pill.”