by A. C. Bextor
“Here,” he clips sternly, raising his arms for me to do as I’m told. “Come to me.”
Shaking my head, I stand in place. I lean my body against the kitchen wall, my hands flat against it at my back, helping to ground me to it.
“Promise me, Vee.”
“Last night you called me Vlad,” he replies with irritation. “I prefer that to this.”
Last night, I did call him Vlad. And it was my voice saying his name for the first time in any meaningful way that coerced a heated reaction I hadn’t seen coming.
“Are you going to make that promise?”
“Damn it, Klara. I said come to me.”
“No.” I shake my head.
Vlad stands but doesn’t take a single step closer.
“Say the next time you touch me, whenever that may be, you haven’t been with her or any of those others like her.”
“If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you,” he threatens, his eyes narrowing.
“If you can’t give me your word, then this all goes away now. Being with you last night. Waking up to you this morning. All of it.”
More annoyed now than angry, Vlad sighs. “If you don’t get your ass over here, I’ll come to you. When I do, it’ll be to put you over my knee.”
My mouth drops open at his words. I’d never been punished while living with Vlad and Faina. But I never did anything to warrant such punishment.
Veni, always. Me, never.
With all patience lost, Vlad stalks toward me. The look on his face is ominous. I’ve upset him, maybe rightly so. A woman like me doesn’t tell a man like him what he can and cannot do. Fair to say there isn’t a woman on Earth who could summon Vlad to promise anything—including Faina and Maag.
Once he’s closed all but a few inches between us, Vlad bends his neck so his mouth nearly brushes mine.
The anger in his features lessens. Inhaling deeply, his eyes close.
“Lilacs,” he mutters, to my confusion.
Looking down between us, he sighs again.
“I’m not her,” I assure quietly. “I can’t ever be like her. If you need more from me, then—”
“Stop talking,” he insists, running his finger over my cheek, his eyes following every inch. “You’re going to wear yourself down with all these crazy thoughts before I have another chance to wear you down in a way I like much more.”
Tears fill my eyes at his lack of promise. I meant what I said; I wouldn’t be able to bear the burden in knowing Vlad touched another woman the same way he’s touched me. Maybe I’m not in love with him. Not yet. But if I ever were, my heart wouldn’t only break if he were unfaithful—it’d be ruined for all others
“Don’t distract me, Vlad. Tell me you won’t go to another woman.”
“You’re clean, Klara. You’re beautiful. As long as I have you in my bed, there won’t be a need for anyone else.”
“How long do you plan to have me in your bed?” I question, not caring about the compliment as much as the way he stated the rest.
Straightening his posture and looking down with confidence, Vlad’s hand caresses my cheek.
“I don’t have that answer. But I can tell you this—coming to me with demands doesn’t work.”
“I’m not like the others,” I explain, my heart weary of his lack of promise.
Moving the stray strands of hair from my forehead, Vlad states, “Last night was good. For me as well as you. It’s important you don’t overthink what it was.”
“What it was?”
“Sex, Klara. You gave yourself to me.”
“So you won’t make any promises,” I surmise with defeat.
“I won’t, but as I said, if you’re in my bed, there’s no need for anyone else. You’ll enjoy what we have. I’ll make sure of it. But don’t make demands.”
“What now?” I change the subject. “What happens today, tomorrow, when we leave here?”
“You’re with me,” he informs.
Taking in a deep breath, I don’t get the chance to exhale. Vlad’s mouth covers mine, his tongue sliding inside as his hands wrap around my waist. My hands lift between us, exploring his chest, neck, and shoulders.
With a brutal shove, my back hits the wall and Vlad pulls away, breathing heavily with restraint.
“A piece of you will always belong to me. That will never change.”
When his forehead rests on mine, I close my eyes, hearing his words circle in my head over and over.
I will always belong to him. In some way, I’ve always belonged to him. But now I’m his. Completely. For however long this lasts.
“Do you understand?” he asks, raising his head and scanning my face for assurance. “I won’t hurt you. I don’t need whores from my stable. To both, I promise.”
Relief courses through my body. Vlad’s hand wraps around my neck, forcing my face closer to his.
“Kiss me now,” he instructs.
Doing as told, I stand on the tips of my toes to gain leverage. As soon as my lips touch his, Vlad takes over. Lowering himself, he grasps my thighs on either side and lifts me in the air.
The kiss is desperate.
Frenzied.
Hungry.
Claiming.
An unsigned agreement to all we’ve discussed.
I’m his.
Pulling back, his eyes slowly open with mine. “You’ll never get me to leave this cabin if you don’t put something else on.”
“What I’m wearing was your choice, remember?” I snidely comment, testing my new boundaries. “You said—”
Vlad sets me to my feet, kissing my nose and directs, “Eat your lunch. Then pack your things because we’re going home.”
Home.
To his home.
To our home.
After kissing me again, this time with less enthusiasm, he turns around. Then he walks out of the room, leaving me alone to revel in his promised words.
If I have you in my bed, there won’t be a need for anyone else.
I won’t hurt you.
I don’t need whores from my stable.
To both, I promise.
Vlad stated clearly that, for now, I belong to him. It’s not until this moment, as I stand alone swaying at the loss of his touch, that I realize he also finally belongs to me.
We’re back.
The ride home was quiet. Aside from Klara’s attempts to get to know my personal preferences about this and that, she mostly kept to herself.
Her interest in my work was something she thankfully didn’t touch.
One thing we haven’t discussed, but will when the time is right, is that even being with me as she is and will be for the foreseeable future, she has a place and will adhere to her place without question.
The moment I step outside and onto the back deck, any enjoyment I had in my time spent with Klara is lost.
Every gasp of her breath.
Every exploring touch of her fingertips.
Every whisper murmured in the dark.
All of it vanishes when I take in the loud voice that led me out here in the first place.
Faina.
My dear little sister stands in protest; hands to her hips, one foot is kicked out to the side, in front of both Rueon and Gleb. I can only see her face in profile, but there’s no mistaken it’s irate and fuming with fury.
Rueon looks gravely scolded and utterly speechless. Gleb, standing at his side, appears nothing of the same; my head of security appears amused. The distinction of their reaction in the face of my sister’s ire attests to their experience in age and years lived within this family.
Faina has always had this way with people. Wearing them down into submission has usually been used as her last resort. If she wants something bad enough, she’ll use whatever means to get it.
What a beautiful bully Faina Zalesky is.
“You didn’t have the authority to do that, Gleb!” she blasts, now with her back turned to me. “You can’t just pack my stuff and tell me
I’m leaving my home.”
The fingerprints of my father are all over this. It’s Vory who’s pissed her off. She may have come home from wherever her latest trip led her, but she didn’t come home to the welcoming arms she assumed she would. And judging by the wrath she’s delving out to both Gleb and Rueon, I imagine it’s the two of them who informed her of Vory’s decision to have her with him back in Russia.
“Faina, damn it. Be pissed. Fine. Whatever. But packing your shit was an order,” Gleb clearly states. “An order I took seriously, considering it was Vory who gave it.”
“You packed my panties, Gleb!” she snaps, this time louder. When she takes a breath to settle herself, she venomously clips, “And wipe that stupid smile off your face. It’s pissing me off.”
“You were already pissed,” Gleb congenially mumbles.
Sighing, he turns his gaze to Rueon who’s gone from looking utterly scolded to outright afraid. Between my discussion with him in regards to keeping his distance from Klara while I was away, and now facing Faina as he is, Rueon looks beaten at every turn.
“And you!” My sister pushes her finger into Rueon’s chest. He rocks back on a foot before she gets out a deliberate blow. “I expected more from you.”
“Faina…,” he starts but stops. When he looks up at me standing in the doorway, an unmistakable blanket of relief covers him entirely. “Thank God.”
“Thank fuck,” Gleb says next, looking down and removing his sunglasses from the top of his plain black tee shirt. Pointing over Faina’s shoulder, he instructs, “There. Talk to him.”
Faina twists her head and I’m certain if women could breathe fire, she’d burn the house down around me and wouldn’t so much as spit in aid to put it out.
“Vlad, what the fuck is going on?” she crudely questions, giving her back to those she’s brutalized in wake of my absence.
Rueon takes not even a moment to garner his escape and immediately walks around her. He doesn’t chance a look back, either.
Gleb follows, but he does it smiling while replacing his sunglasses. Through their shades, I note the aging wrinkles around the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t try to hide his amusement at all.
“Unpack me, Rueon. I’m not leaving!” my sister screams her last demand.
“Jesus Christ,” he utters in response as I step to the side, giving him room to escape. “I’ll be in the kitchen helping Maag with what-the-fuck-ever she wants. Anything to get me out of here.”
Gleb slaps Rueon’s shoulder, saying nothing to me as they make their way out, but tells his protégé, “This, little brother, is reason enough to never settle down. If you ever get your dick caught in a woman and you forget this moment, come find me. I’ll remind you to run.”
Once they’re out of sight, I turn back to watch my sister standing alone, her hip resting on the iron railing. Her focus is on the large expanse of our property. Her arms are crossed around her waist and in profile I find her eyes still narrowed, still fired up and furious.
The sun is bright. The birds are singing. Faina holds no appreciation for either.
“Glad to see you found your way home, Faina,” I greet, walking to her cautiously. “I was afraid you forgot where we lived.”
“Fuck off,” she snaps, then corrects her tone with, “Glad to see you’re back, too. How was your vacation?”
My ‘vacation’ was more than I had hoped it would be. Visions of Klara just this morning, willingly submitting to me again without question, come to mind with satisfaction. The fact she’d given me every inch of her, body and soul, has only baited me to get back to her for more.
I don’t voice any of this to my sister, of course.
“We need to talk,” Faina clips, still not looking directly at me but succeeding in pulling me from my memories of soft skin and the fresh smell of lilac. “Soon.”
“I need to see to a few things, but I’ll make myself free for you within the hour.”
“Free,” she aimlessly whispers. “God brother, will either of us ever be free?”
Reaching over and daring to touch her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and bend to kiss her temple. She doesn’t return my attention, but instead her body jolts to free itself.
“You look different. Content, even,” she accuses, using her finger to signal over my body in front of hers. Unfortunately, if there’s anyone who’d notice, it’d be her. “Why do you look so happy?”
Shit.
“Faina, I’m the same as I was when I left.”
“You’re not.”
Leaning toward her, raising my voice to ensure she stops prodding, I reassure, “I am.”
“Time off has done you good, I see.”
“Vory insisted, and he was determined,” I bring up what I know has her upset.
“Determined to ruin my life,” she mumbles.
“You’re leaving.”
Turning back to the yard, Faina’s shoulders tense. With her hands balled to fists, she replies, “Not if I can help it.”
“Faina,” I warn.
“Fuck him, Vlad!” she cries. “I’m a grown woman. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do. I don’t live under his roof anymore.”
“No,” I agree. “You live under mine.”
Looking over, she pins me with an infuriated glare. “And?”
“And I’m reminding you to pick your battles. Go home. Do whatever you’re supposed to do. Then, when the time is right, you’ll come back.”
“You’re siding with him,” she murmurs with disappointment.
“I’m not siding with anyone.”
“I can’t believe this. You are.”
“Faina.” When I reach to grab her, she steps away.
Turning in place, she doesn’t look at me as she storms back into the house. And, of course, slamming the door behind her.
Welcome home.
I’m in my study with Abram as he fills me in on all I missed over the last week. Seems my father not only handled my day-to-day business dealings while I was away, but he also happened to track down a lead to who had been snapping pictures of Klara.
“At least there’s good news with the bad,” Abram deduces. “We know the players. If Katrina is wanting revenge against you, she went to the right man to help get it.”
Ciro fucking Palleshi.
“And if this Josef is really who he’s telling people he is, and he’s so desperate to get to Klara, that means Klara has family she’s never met.”
Klara’s mother, Amere, had a brother. I’d known this even before I’d banished her away from her daughter.
Josef Embers had been working the docks near the Boston Bay at the time. When word got to him of what I did to Klara’s father, Enzen, rumors made it back to me that Josef was elated.
Recently, I’d heard her mother killed herself, hanging a noose around her neck, and falling from her own kitchen table. Not long after, I had also heard that Josef had been asking around about the niece he’d never met. I sent one of my men to warn him off. And it appeared to have worked, as I never heard about him again.
The thought that Josef has once again started to take interest in his long-lost niece doesn’t sit well. Especially, if he’s stupid enough to do it behind my back, yet still at my front door.
“Find out where Josef is now, will you?” I request. “And also find out if Amere has any more relatives who could come crawling for Klara.”
“And if I find any?”
At his question, I look up.
“Do you think it’s possible Klara has any interest in knowing where she came from?”
“No,” I answer quickly. “She doesn’t.”
Over fifteen years have passed and not once did one single person extend a hand to find her. Whether they were afraid of my organization or they were apprehensive to take on a child they didn’t know much about is no longer relevant. She’s not going anywhere.
“Klara stays,” I sternly voice.
“She could have a family out there, Vla
d,” Abram reasons. “And yes, Faina and Veni are—”
“What part of my answer was left for debate?” I counter, determined. “The answer is no. Whatever you find, Klara will never know. No matter who you find. Am I understood?”
“Christ, Vlad,” he hisses, leaning up in his chair. “I get it.”
“Good,” I reply, sitting back in my own, relieved at the lead my father procured. Even if it costs additional disappointment in his eyes, I’m happy to have whoever is looking into Klara handled.
Carefully, Abram questions, “How is Klara?”
As innocent of an inquiry as this may be, Abram already hopes for something between Klara and me. Rather than feed into his curiosity, I answer vaguely. “She’s good, I think.”
“Vlad,” Abram says, smiling. Leaning back, he keeps his eyes on me. “Tell me.”
“Not now,” I return. “Not ever if you’re thinking of going where I think you’re going.”
Outright laughing, Abram covers his mouth. Once he’s collected himself, he replies, “I never really thought you’d go there at all.”
Twisting my neck back and forth, casually releasing the tension weighting at the back, I say nothing.
Abram, however, refuses to let it go. “Of course, maybe I’d hoped you’d go there. She’s hardly difficult to look at, let alone the way she looks at you.”
If I had a gun close, the chances of shooting him for talking about Klara the way he is would be great.
Standing, Abram slides his hands in his pockets. His chest is shaking, clearly still amused at my predicament.
“If you ever want to talk, my friend,” he addresses seriously, “I’m here. If not, just know I’m still here if that changes.”
“Josef,” I remind him. “Find out more about where he’s been the last few years specifically. I want all you have by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Will do.” He nods.
Back to work after he walks away, I listen as Faina crosses paths with Abram in the hall. Her greeting to him is short, cutting to the quick.
Coming to stand in front of my desk, Faina looks worse off than she was only an hour ago as she left me on the deck.