by KL Donn
“Nyet.” The harsh intensity in the single word is conveyed so acutely that I feel it to my bones.
“So, no matter what happens here, I’m stuck?” I should be slightly more terrified than I currently am because, obviously, these men, Viktor, Nikolai, and the other fellow I saw for a quick second, aren’t law-abiding citizens. They deal in an underground life that I know nothing about.
“Da,” the man who is trying to claim me confirms.
“I don’t…” I’ve never been one to throw a hissy fit or tantrum, but I’m seconds away from dropping to the ground and screaming all of my fears out.
Viktor
“Take him out.” I hiss at Niko. Seeing Emmy so torn up about her situation—the one I won’t release her from—makes me want to smash Marshall’s face in.
I dislike seeing her in pain, but even if Marshall takes back his deal, I’ll never let her go. I can’t. Not after seeing her photograph and then holding her in my arms. Inhaling her fresh wildflower scent reminds me of the flower fields in Russia.
Emmaline is home.
My home.
And I can’t let her go. There isn’t a force in the universe who could make me give her up. Not in life. Not in death.
“No! Wait! We had a deal!” Marshall screams as Niko picks him up by the collar. “Em, sweetheart, please,” he begs.
The man doesn’t see what I do, though. In Emmy’s eyes is a hatred so ingrained that she wouldn’t save him from hell.
“Please, what, Marshall? You destroyed my mother. She still loves you. She hasn’t moved on, but you? You’ve forgotten about her, haven’t you?”
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.” The hardened tone she portrays makes me proud. Young, she may be. Innocent, she used to be. Until this kiska left her alone to take care of a mother unprepared to raise a child on her own.
“Come, Marshall, you have a date.” Niko laughs as Kodiak re-enters the room, laptop in hand.
“You have something?” I ask him. He nods as Marshall tries to worm his way out of Niko’s hold.
“Da. Marshall has a home in Jersey City under Kelsey’s name. I’ve sent some men to go have a look,” he relays.
“What about my mother?” Emmy looks concerned.
Cupping her cheek, I murmur, “Nothing for you to worry about, moya lyubov’,” but I can see her anger ignite.
“That’s my mother. I will always worry. Especially when you speak about her in a language I don’t understand, Viktor.” She spits my name like a curse, and I dislike the tone.
“Out!” I shout to my men, wanting the room clear for what I’m about to do. My desire to claim her will not outweigh my strict command of the Vashchenko Clan.
Emmy jumps at the booming sound of my voice as everyone leaves. She watches as I pace the room, anger swirling inside of me.
“This”—I sweep my arms around the room—“is mine. You do not control what happens here, Emmaline. You may ask questions, but you do not make demands. Not of me.”
Emmy’s blank stare as I turn back around fools only the weakest men. The ones who don’t understand how to read a woman about to come unglued, no matter the possible danger to their safety.
“I don’t get to make demands.” She repeats the words in the same way Danika does when I piss her off. The problem is, Nika knows how volatile I am and will walk away. My Emmy knows nothing.
“Then what do I get to do, Viktor Vashchenko? Can I sit? Like a dog. Perhaps fetch like one, too. Or maybe you want me to spread my legs like a whore.”
“Nyet!” I snap. Perhaps it is I who knows nothing. “Do not say such filth again,” I command, and her glare narrows.
“So, then tell me…what can I do? What is appropriate for me to say if you have such control over who I am and what I’ll be doing now.”
I do not understand her fury. She is mine; I only wish to take care of her. “What I need from you, Emmaline Taylor”—I step towards her, and I want to grin at her defiance. She does not back away from me—“is for you to show this backbone.” I walk her backwards until she is forced into the bookcase behind her. “I want for you to maintain complete control over who you are when you are with me.” I lean forward, burying my head in her neck and kissing along her erratic pulse. “I want for you to know my word is law, and even though you can command any man under my employee, you do not get to command me in front of anyone.”
I can feel her deep breaths as her chest rises and falls heavily with each inhale. “I don’t understand.”
“You are free to demand anything you like of me but in private only. You can question any and all orders I give so long as you hold your tongue in front of my organization.” I pull back to meet her stare. “Do you understand, moy?”
“What does that mean?” she whispers.
“What?”
“Moy. You say it a lot.”
“Mine. Moy means you are mine.” My words are growled as I capture her lips in a possessive kiss. I don’t give her time to catch her breath or react. I slip my tongue past her plump lips and delve deep, claiming the darkest parts of her. “Now, tell me you understand, Emmy.” She nods immediately at my request.
Out of breath, she clutches my shirt and drags me closer. Needing more, I grip the backs of her thighs and pick her up, grinding my hardened cock into her core. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her to completion, having her juices slide down the back of my throat as she pulls my hair and cries my name long into the night.
“Tell me, moy, are you a virgin?” I groan the words, hoping for a yes. Praying for it.
Her shy gaze, as she stares at me, is my answer. “If I’m not? Will you throw me away?”
“No.” It’s not even a word that comes out of my mouth. It’s pure rage. The idea of sending her away is not one I’m willing to contemplate. “You are mine for keeps.”
“Yes.” She breathes against my lips, and I feel like a fucking czar, ready to shout from the rooftops that I have my czarina.
“I want it. Right now. Tell me yes, moya lyubov’,” I murmur into her ear as I kiss every inch of silky flesh I can get my lips on.
“Yes,” she moans deep into my ear. “I have no idea what you said, but yes. Please, Viktor.”
Fuck. I keep speaking in my native tongue. “I want to bury myself deep inside your warm innocence, Emmy. Tell me yes.” I repeat my words.
She’s silent a moment, and I feel her take in a deep breath, and my heart stalls. If she says no, I may not live to see another day.
“Yes, Viktor.”
Before I can make a move to remove her clothing, Kodiak barges into the office. “Boss, Maksim Radomir is waiting for your call.” His gaze slides to Emmy, who’s still in my hold. “He wants to know if he should include Marshall in the game.”
Even though he speaks in Russian, as soon as he says her father’s name, I know she realizes we’re speaking of him.
“Nyet.” I shake my head. “Marshall was cut off. Spread the word.” Kodiak nods and leaves the room as swiftly as he entered.
“Maksim Radomir is the man hosting the game your father wishes to be part of,” I explain before she can ask questions. “I told Kodiak, no. He is cut off from any lines of credit, nor will anyone touch him with a ten-foot pole, or they’ll face my wrath.”
I set her on her feet, knowing I have to handle business. “What you do then…” Her words are thoughtful. “Are you a bookie?”
“A bookie?” I snort. “No. I operate high stakes gambling. Poker games mostly, but I own five of the largest casinos on the east coast.”
She nods. “Is it illegal?”
My stare narrows. “I don’t feel it will be beneficial for you to know that answer.”
“I see.” But she doesn’t. Not in the way I’d like for her to understand. However, for now, it’s how it must be.
Emmy
His non-answer is the response I assumed I would receive, but it also confirms what I’ve suspected,
as well. The game my father wants participation in is illegal. I have no intention of telling anyone because, honestly, I just don’t care about it.
The pain and negativity I feel towards Marshall is a whole other story, though. I carry so much hatred for him. Not just because he left me, I barely knew him, but because he has caused so much pain to my mother. She never deserved a lifetime of uncertainty and heartache.
“Why did you agree to his deal?” I watch Viktor as he sits behind his large desk, pondering my question.
He doesn’t respond at first. Reaching into the top drawer next to him, he pulls out a folder, thin in size, but from the look on his face, it holds information of extreme importance.
Placing it on the desk in front of him, he nods for me to sit in one of the vacant chairs across from him. When I do, he speaks. “When your father came to me a few days ago, he already owed me a great debt. He begged, pleaded, for me to allow him entrance into the game Maksim is hosting, and while I have a feeling I know who he wants to connect with there, I’ve hesitated.”
I don’t comment because there is nothing for me to say. I can’t pretend to understand what his world is like and why some poker game is so important, so I wait.
“It wasn’t until I threatened his life that he offered me a deal.” Opening the folder, he spins it around. “It wasn’t he who convinced me to accept the odd deal, Emmaline.” I stare down at a photo of myself. One I don’t recognize. I’m sitting on the bleachers at school as football practice goes on, and I’m reading a book while eating my lunch. The photo captured me smiling at something, but I can’t recall what or why.
“It was you.” Viktor’s quiet words warm my heart.
“I’ve never had someone do anything just because I’m me,” I murmur as I pick the photo up and stare at it. “This was from months ago.” I know this because I’d just gotten the cream sweater I’m wearing, and by the time school was out, it was pouring. Some jerk ran through a huge puddle and soaked me from head to toe on the walk home from the bus stop, and the mud ruined it.
“Everything I do from now on will be because of you, Emmy.” My head lifts at his words. “I did not lie when I told you that you are mine. My attraction goes much deeper than the physical. You need to understand that while you may have some freedoms, you are very much my property.”
I frown, not liking the way that sounds. And yet, I comprehend the meaning behind the possessive nature of it.
I’m just not sure if I’m ready to accept them or not.
“Property?” I repeat.
Reaching out his hand for me, I take it, and he guides me around the desk to sit in front of him. Standing, he moves between my legs. “I do not mean for it to sound as though I own you, and you will have no say in your life, Emmaline. I simply want to be sure there is no room for misinterpretation of where you belong.”
“And your expectations of me will be what, exactly?” I watch his eyes for any deception, but I get the feeling Viktor isn’t the type of man to feed lies when the truth is swifter.
“Obedience. Loyalty.”
“And what about love?” I hold my breath as he stares at me. Gazing up at him through my eyelashes, I whisper, “I need love, Viktor.”
“You will have it,” he vows to me.
“Will I, though?”
“Like all good things in life, love will blossom naturally for us.” He sounds so sure.
“Do you believe you’ll be able to love me?”
“Yes.” His confidence is reassuring. “Can you love me?”
Can I? I’ve never connected with a person as well as I have with Viktor, but he leads such a different life than what I’m used to. If it were just him, without all the sinister forces seemingly behind him, my answer would be yes. So, I suppose the real question is, can I love him and accept his life?
“Emmaline?” Placing a finger under my chin, he lifts my face. “This idea scares you.”
“It does.” There’s no point in lying about it.
Pressing a button under his desk, he reassures me, “We have plenty of time. Sacha is the head of the house and will show you to our room. I have business to attend to. I’ll be back to get you for an evening out.” After dropping a light kiss on my lips, I’m relieved that he’s not pressing me for an answer and seems to understand my need for time.
Watching Viktor leave as Kodiak appears in the doorway whispering something to him, I see the anger cross over into Viktor’s hulking frame, and I worry for whoever is about to be on the receiving end of his wrath.
“Miss Taylor?” An older woman walks through the door that Viktor just left through. “Follow me.” She has a Russian accent, but it’s not nearly as thick as Viktor or Nikolai’s. She exits before I can say anything, and I’m left to rush after her or be left behind.
Following the woman up the lavish staircase, the ornate carpet is plush, and I’m curious how it will feel under my feet. I’ll have to save that for another time, though, because for her height and age, Sacha walks quickly.
“The east wing is for you and Viktor. Kodiak and Nikolai have the west. The staff maintains rooms on the main floor. You’ll have access to any part of the house you want except the west wing.” She turns to look at me. “For obvious reasons.” Those likely being that it’s Niko and Kodiak’s space.
“Alright,” I say because she’s watching me like I need to confirm.
With a nod, she turns back around and continues striding down the long hallway. “This is Danika’s room.” I want to ask who that is but keep my mouth shut. “You can’t go in there either.”
At the end of the hall and past four more doors on each side, some open, some closed, we reach a set of double doors. Sacha opens them with great flourish and steps to the side to allow me passage.
I’m blown away by the opulence of the space. Easily, it’s the size of my modest home in Atlanta. A sitting area awaits in front of a wood-burning fireplace, and there’s a makeup station near what I see is the en suite bath. I’m almost afraid to peer in there. A vast closet rests on one side of the sitting area, and as I walk into it, I see it wraps completely around the fireplace to exit on the opposite side.
“Holy crap,” I mumble.
“Uh-uh.” Sacha shakes her head. “A Vashchenko woman does not use foul language.” I frown at her choice of words. Crap isn’t foul, but I hold my tongue. This is her world, not mine. “When in front of others, you must project poise and class. Viktor has an image to uphold.”
I nod my head, and she continues the tour around the room, including opening the doors to a large balcony with a separate lounging area and a fire pit in the center of it all.
“Come with me,” she demands and walks back out to the hallway. “This is Viktor’s room.” Confused, I let her speak. “I’m sure he would appreciate you moving his belongings to your shared room.” Now, I understand.
I suppose I had assumed he would have already been occupying our room. It was how he made it sound to me. What do I know, though? Everything is so new.
“Is there a phone I can use?” I ask her, needing to talk to my mom. All of this is so much that I need the familiarity of her voice. The assurance that she’s alright with Dora.
“It’s best you wait for Viktor,” Sacha says and walks away. I don’t even get the chance to protest.
Left in the middle of his room, I wonder how I’m supposed to get anything done when all I can do is worry about my mother?
4
Viktor
I listen with half an ear as Maksim boosts my ego. Praising my decision to cut Marshall from all games and spreading the word that he is no longer to be dealt in to any of my competitors’ games either.
“Enough, Maksim. Is everything set for tonight?” Tonight’s game holds a two million dollar payout per table. The same one Marshall was trying to gain access to. I think, instead, that I’ll bring my prize to witness the festivities.
“Yes, yes. Everybody is settled in their rooms and ready to play. Win
or lose, you stand to make an excellent profit.” He preens.
“Perfect. I’ll see you at nine, then.” I typically like to be there to greet our players as they enter, as well as having Niko and Kodiak there to double-check security. Safety is a priority for the women who serve as entertainment for the men while they lose as much money as possible. Tonight, however, I think we’ll arrive a bit late so they can admire what they’ll never have.
Men get stupid when there are attractive women around, and I use that to my advantage as often as possible.
An alert pops up on my phone as I hang up with Maksim. Reading the text from Sacha, she informs me that Emmy is looking to call home.
I frown. I left her mother with Theodora, so I know everything is fine. I don’t understand this desire she has.
“Boss?” Kodiak asks when he notices the confusion on my face.
“She wants to call her mother,” I relay.
“So?”
“Why?” I stare up at him.
The fool laughs at me. “Perhaps because she’s been taking care of the woman since that kiska abandoned them?”
“Oh.” I suppose that would make sense. It will have to wait, however. It’s nearly time I go home and collect her before the big game tonight.
Even though I conduct the majority of my business from my home office, I am required in the office at my casinos at least twice a week to sign for packages, work orders, and other work details.
“Get the car,” I order Kodiak, and he leaves to do my bidding. This man is much more than he appears. He’s quiet, enjoys his work, and he’s deadly. We grew up together, fought together. He was an orphan my uncle took in at twelve, and by the time he turned eighteen, he’d more than proved his loyalty to the Vashchenko Clan.
He gave his blood. His sweat. And just as soon as he was able, Kodiak changed his name. He was no longer an orphaned Russian boy abandoned by parents who had no idea what to do with his wild nature. He became Kodiak Vashchenko, right hand to the organization. While I may be the face of our businesses, he and Niko are equal partners. I would have it no other way. Even when they protested.