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THIEF

Page 25

by A. Zavarelli


  “So maybe I’ve rewritten our stars.”

  “Don’t play games with me.” My voice wavers. “I can’t take it, Nika. Are you really here to collect me?”

  “You should know that we have many customs.” He releases me and falls away from my arms. “The stars on my knees dictate that I should bow before no man.”

  Nikolai lowers to his knee and takes my hand in his. “But I will bow to you, Nakya, if it means that you will agree to be my wife.”

  Emotion steals my voice. It steals my ability to breathe or think. What he’s asking seems impossible. This is the life I swore I would do anything to leave. I promised myself I wouldn’t be a mafia wife, and that I’d rather die than live that way.

  But when I search Nika’s ocean eyes, he is not just mafia. He is not Dante or my father, or any man who I have ever known before. He is my artist. The color of my life. My thief, and the stealer of my heart. I don’t know how I could possibly go forward in this life without the other half of my soul.

  I get down on my knees to meet him, grasping his face in my hands. “Do you promise to be loyal to me? Do you promise that I will be your only warmth? The only woman in your life?”

  “You are the only woman in my bed, my heart, and my life,” he assures me. “My loyalty is with you, now and forever.”

  His eyes plead with mine. Blue to my amber. Until now, I didn’t know that I was dying of a thirst I never knew I had, and he was the bluest water I ever tasted. For eternity, I could drink him, and for eternity, I would never be satisfied.

  “Tell me that you’re mine,” I whisper.

  He drags me against him, tipping my chin up so he can taste my lips. “I’m yours, Nakya.”

  “And I’m yours,” I assure him.

  “How did you find me?” Nakya asks.

  I squeeze her knee and reach for her fingers. She hasn’t been still since we left her apartment. It will take time for her to trust that this is real, but I’ve only got time to give.

  “Gianni told me where you were.”

  “He did?” Her voice stings of betrayal.

  “I thought you knew better than to ever trust a fed.”

  She glances out the car window, watching the scenery fade from view as the highway eats up miles behind us.

  “He was the only option I had at my father’s. And then you came in and wrecked that plan.”

  “Lucky for you.”

  She looks back at me, and I think it’s too soon for jokes. “You sent me to die. What did you expect from me, Nika? He saved my life.”

  Mischa glances at me in the rearview mirror. And though I would prefer that he wasn’t here for this conversation, I am grateful that he’s driving right now.

  “Is that what Nonna told you?”

  Nakya’s foot beats an anxious rhythm against the floorboard. “She said you were done with me, and then the guard took me.”

  I squeeze her hand, probably too hard. “And you believed them?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she questions. “You left me no choice but to believe them. And if Gianni hadn’t come along—”

  I kiss her because I can’t allow her to say it. I can’t and probably won’t ever be able to accept that I failed her in this way. She is right about Gianni in that he wasn’t completely worthless. If he hadn’t been there, Sergei would have taken her away from me.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I should have done more to protect you, but zvezda, you should know that I would have never let you go.”

  She curls into my chest, breathing me in. “What happened to Nonna?”

  “She’s gone,” I answer. “And she won’t be coming back. She betrayed me for Sergei, and so did the guard. But they are all gone now.”

  She looks up at me with cloudy eyes. “Sergei is dead?”

  I nod. Someday, we will speak of it, but it won’t be today. I have no intention of inviting that darkness into the new chapter of our life. But Tanaka is quick to remind me that there is still darkness between us.

  “My father is dead,” she says. “Isn’t he?”

  Lying to her would be easy, but it isn’t what I want. I need her to love the darkest parts of me. I need her to love me when I’m at my worst.

  “Yes, my sweet. I’m sorry, but he is dead too.”

  “I thought so,” she says. “And you killed him?”

  “Yes.”

  I think that there will certainly be more, but instead, she lays her head against my chest and falls to sleep.

  I find Nika on the dock, face up to the sky. He’s watching the stars, and I would give anything to know what he’s thinking at this moment. The world stands still, and I find that I can breathe again as my eyes move over the man who came into my life like a wrecking ball.

  He’s wearing a white button-down, gray slacks, and his motorcycle boots. A silent laugh shakes my chest when I think about how much I hated those boots the first time I saw him. Now, I know that it’s just Nika. I love his bullheaded, boorish ways, and I’m probably crazy for it.

  I take a breath and utter the most important words of my life. “I’m ready.”

  He turns to look at me, nostrils flaring. Warmth spreads through me, and I smooth my hands over the gauzy white fabric.

  “It’s a beautiful dress.” I swish back and forth.

  “The dress is nice,” he agrees. “But I’m looking at you, Nakya. Only you.”

  He insisted I wear white, and I insisted that I didn’t want a fuss. This dress was our compromise. Light and breezy, it’s perfect for our beach nuptials.

  “I regret that I’m the only one who gets to see it,” he says.

  “The minister will see it. And Mischa too.”

  Nika moves into my space, tipping my chin up with his fingers. “Trying to make me jealous?”

  “What is there to be jealous of?” I ask. “You will be my husband tonight. I will have your star on my hand. We will be together, and everyone else is just white noise.”

  He growls into my mouth. Nikolai loves the idea of being my husband, but I think he still feels some regret too. The Vory way would be to show me off. To have a grand, extravagant wedding in front of all his brothers. But when he confided that we would need to be married before our return to Massachusetts, I was relieved to tell him that I wanted no part of a big wedding. It isn’t for anyone else. Just us. And it doesn’t get any more private than having our own beach in the Florida Keys. For the next five days, we will do nothing but sleep, and eat, and make love in our bungalow over the water. It’s perfect, and it’s important that he knows I wouldn’t have it any other way. It doesn’t matter where we get married. It doesn’t even matter how. All that matters is that we do. When we go back home, Viktor will give us his approval, and our lives can go on.

  I know what I’m signing up for. Life with Nikolai won’t always be a fairy tale, and once I’m in, there aren’t any take backs. But if I’m going to do hard time, I want to do it with him.

  “I’m ready,” I say again.

  Nikolai takes his time pawing at me before he finally gestures for Mischa and the minister to come down to the beach.

  Against the backdrop of the water, and beneath all the stars in the sky, we say our vows. They are simple, and they are traditional in the mafia way.

  Nikolai vows to protect, cherish, provide for, and remain faithful to me for all the days of his life. He vows to let no other woman come between us and also adds that he will ensure my health, even when I might not like it. When we fight, and we will fight, he declares that we will use our words and not our fears to work things out.

  In return, I vow my undivided loyalty, respect, and honor to him. I tell him that my virtue will always belong to him, and that I will proudly wear his star on my hand and in my heart.

  The ceremony is completed by the minister’s official seal of approval, followed by the application of my new tattoo by Mischa. It’s an odd thing, when I trace over the letters of his name etched into my skin, how much I like it.
/>   “Thank you.” Nikolai dismisses the minister, and then turns to Mischa. “You can go now too.”

  I laugh when he scoops me up into his arms and starts striding down the dock toward our bungalow, but his face has never been more serious.

  “It’s time to consummate this marriage.”

  “To strong women.” Sasha holds her shot glass in the air, toasting all of us gathered around her today.

  “The strongest,” Mack agrees. “We have to be to put up with them.”

  Our gazes collectively move across the lawn where our husbands are gathered with small children nipping at their feet like dogs, begging for their attention. Two of the men, Nikolai and Mischa, are presently hovered over Mack’s latest addition to the Irish syndicate.

  “And to think they still don’t know how to change a frigging diaper,” she hoots.

  All the women break into laughter, and Talia leans over to reassure me. “Don’t worry, they figure it out eventually.”

  My hand comes to rest on the top of my bump, and I give her a relaxed smile. “I’m not worried. I already know Nikolai will be a good father.”

  “Pfft.” Mack pours another drink. “You are still in the honeymoon phase. Don’t let him get out of his daddy duties just because you’re all starry-eyed now. Trust me, you’ll thank me for it later. You have to put your foot down. Make him get up in the middle of the night. Let him change a few diapers. And most importantly, don’t give him any nookie unless he’s pulling his weight.”

  “Don’t let her scare you,” Sasha says. “She isn’t as tough as she sounds. One look from Lachlan and she turns to mush.”

  I’m not scared. But I am grateful when I look around me. In the span of such a short amount of time, my life has changed so much. The thing that I was most afraid of has turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. This isn’t just a group of women and their husbands. They are my family. The family I never thought I would have.

  We look out for each other. We laugh, and we cry, and we poke at each other. And even though I am still relatively new, they have accepted me with open arms.

  Ronan, the Irish Reaper, comes to collect his wife, Sasha, and the other men are quick to follow suit. Lunch is ready, and there is a celebration to be had for baby Franco’s birthday. But while the others filter into the garden at Alexei’s request, Nikolai holds me back, taking my hand and sneaking us into the house.

  “What are we doing?” I whisper as he closes the bathroom door behind us.

  He props me up on the vanity, his hands roaming over my body. It has changed so much, and I’m still struggling to accept it. Every day, my belly grows, and not just that but my breasts and my hips too.

  “You’re beautiful,” Nikolai murmurs as he gropes at my breasts. “And these are magnificent.”

  “We’re going to get caught,” I laugh.

  “So let us get caught.” He grabs the bulge in his jeans and shows it off proudly. “I want to fuck my wife.”

  “Mmm.” I want to resist him, but it’s hard when he knows all my weaknesses. Particularly when he kisses my throat. And before I know it, he has the top of my dress pulled down, rubbing his face all over my breasts.

  “You are obsessed.”

  “Large or small, I’ll never get enough of them, Nakya. Get used to it.”

  “Soon you will have to share.”

  He grunts and rests his hand against my belly where his son grows. “In that case, I won’t mind. It will be good for me to learn moderation.”

  He’s right, but I don’t voice it, because it’s just occurred to him that his opportunities are limited, and now he’s back to molesting my breasts again. Sucking them and squeezing them and licking them while he fumbles with his zipper.

  He’s been taking me so often since I told him I was pregnant that I joked he would keep adding babies if he didn’t stop. But he has no intention of stopping. He tells me so when he wraps my legs around his waist and stuffs himself inside me.

  “Zvezda,” he says it like a prayer. “You are having my baby.”

  “I know.” I kiss his throat.

  “I still can’t believe it,” he groans.

  He says it every day. And every day, I agree. It has been an adjustment, learning to love my body as it changes for motherhood. Nikolai is careful not to let me slide back into old patterns, and he is also quick to point out everything that he loves about me often and passionately.

  “Come for me, my sweet,” he begs.

  I come twice. My nerve endings are more alive than they’ve ever been. Nikolai loves it, and so do I.

  Someone knocks on the bathroom door, and Nikolai grunts. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “You better not be desecrating my house,” Alexei calls through the door.

  I smile up at Nikolai, and he shudders out his release. Something I have come to realize about him is that he likes the thrill of getting caught. He seizes any opportunity he can to take me in public places, including his own brother’s home.

  “Just tending to my pregnant wife,” Nika says even though Alexei can’t hear him. “Right, pet?”

  “Apparently, I’m very needy.”

  He brings my hand to his lips, kissing the place where his star resides. “Are you happy, zvezda? Have I given you a life worth living?”

  “You have given me a life worth loving,” I amend. “Always, Nika. Because I am yours.”

  In the end, I let him ruin me. It was the only way.

  The End.

  Thank you so much for reading THIEF. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving an honest review at your favorite book retailer or Goodreads. You can keep an eye out for my other book releases by following me on Facebook, or signing up for my Newsletter.

  Your email will be kept confidential and secure and never redistributed for any purposes. You can also find more information on my upcoming work at www.azavarelli.com, @azavarellibooks on twitter, or join my facebook group A. Zavarelli’s Femme Fatales. Until next time!

  Where to begin? The best part of my job is the amazing people I have met along the way, and there are far too many who deserve more than this little note, but here it is.

  My bearded beast—thank you for being so patient while I put in endless hours on this book. All the late nights and missed dates and rainchecks that you put up with make you a saint.

  To my betas—Tijuana, Kristina, Melissa, and Tara—thank you for being patient with me and reading this book in random chunks and providing your insightful feedback. I couldn’t have finished this without you.

  Dark Rebels—thank you for supporting my work and showing the love by sharing it with the world. I am so grateful for each and every one of you taking time out of your busy schedules to do this simply for the love of books. You are all amazing.

  Melissa Crump—you’ve supported me since the beginning of this journey and I can’t imagine my world without you in it. Thank you for being a Rockstar PA and an even better friend.

  Jenny Sims at Editing4Indies, Lara at Coverluv, Stacey at Champagne Formats, and Tracy Marks—thank you for your hard work in making this book the best it can be. I truly appreciate your talents.

  To the bloggers and readers who continually amaze me with the support you give to my work. Thank you! You are the heart of this community, and I’m beyond blessed to have an audience for my dark, twisty, and imperfect characters. You love their flaws, and I love you for it.

  Love and awkward hugs x

  Ashleigh

  CROW: Boston Underworld #1

  REAPER: Boston Underworld #2

  GHOST: Boston Underworld #3

  SAINT: Boston Underworld #4

  BEAST: Twisted Ever After #1

  TAP LEFT

  Echo: A Bleeding Hearts Novel Volume One

  Stutter: A Bleeding Hearts Novel Volume Two

  Falling Series

  An Escort for Christmas

  One Last Gift

  Salacious

  p;

  A. Zavarelli, THIEF

 

 

 


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