“I think I fucked up,” I whisper to the empty room.
I hurry up and put my clothes back on, determined to find Dominik and apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to force him into telling me he loved me, not during sex.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait for my Byki anymore. The major threat is gone, and now I just call Matty or Stas when I have a showing, a concession Dominik told me I needed to accept for the rest of my life.
I hurry down to our building’s garage and notice that his car is gone. Feeling a little deflated, I slide inside of my sporty corvette and decide the only thing I can do is go to his office. The brothel. I want to talk to him. I don’t like that he left angry with me.
It takes me about forty-five minutes to actually find the neighborhood. I didn’t pay enough attention when I came the first time, my mind consumed with the fact that Konstantin had just been shot trying to protect me.
The house looks so normal as I pull up to the curb. I notice that Dominik’s car is in the driveway, so after taking a long, deep breath, I open my car door.
Walking up to the entrance of the house, I take another deep breath, releasing it as my hand knocks on the door.
My eyes widen slightly when I see the woman from over a month ago, the woman who had been wrapped around Dominik—her mouth on his and her bare breasts pressed against his chest—answer the door. She looks tired, but still heavily made up with makeup, her hair styled and teased, and her body very much on display.
“Help you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes on me.
“I’m Mrs. Markova. I’d like to talk to my husband,” I announce, trying to sound strong. She smirks like a cat ready to play with her prey.
“He’s occupied at the moment,” she says.
“I can wait,” I say, taking a step forward. She blocks me.
“He came in all surly, so one of the girls offered her services. He’ll be occupied for a while,” she winks. I narrow my eyes.
Maybe a month or six weeks ago, I would have cried and run away, but not today. I push past her, knocking her to the side, ignoring her outcry as I stomp toward Dominik’s office.
The bitch wraps her bright red talons around my arm and tugs on me, hard. I’m knocked off balance by the combination of her pulling me and my own high heels getting stuck in the plush carpeting of the hall.
I cry out as I fall. I put my hands out to catch myself, and when I land, I do it on my hip, my shoulder and the side of my head. I close my eyes, grateful to have landed on my side and not my belly, but it hurts like a bitch. I hear a shout that sounds like Dominik and then stomping.
“What the fuck?” his deep voice whispers.
“She tried to assault me,” the bitch cries out from behind me.
“Stas,” Dominik bellows before he crouches down in front of me. “Take Alla to the basement, keep her there until further notice.”
I don’t hear what Stas says. My eyes are open, but I’m not moving, I’m staring at Dominik’s blue eyes, looking at them as they fill with panic.
“Yagodka,” he whispers roughly.
“I came to apologize,” I murmur.
“Inessa,” he rasps as his hand reaches out to cup my cheek. “Can you stand?”
He asks, but then he ignores his own question and picks me up. I lean my head against his shoulder as he carries me like a child to his office, closing the door behind him before he sets me on the sofa against the wall, arranging me in his lap. I let out a shaky breath when his hand moves to wrap around my belly.
“I was an ass this morning. You have every right to know how I feel about you,” he murmurs as he holds me close to him.
“I shouldn’t have had that conversation while we were making love,” I whisper.
“Making love?” he asks as his body shakes slightly. “I didn’t know we made love, Nessa.”
“Well, what do you call it?” I ask, scrunching my nose.
“We fuck, yagodka.”
“The way you look at me while you move inside of me, it’s not fucking, Dominik. The way you hold me, the way you make me feel, it’s not fucking, not at all. Even when you’re rough, it’s making love. I see it in your eyes,” I say. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip before he speaks.
“Nobody has ever told me they loved me before, Nessa. I don’t know how to say it because I don’t know what love feels like,” he murmurs. I swear, my heart shatters.
“I love you, Dominik. I love you so much, it makes my chest ache. I’ll love you enough for the both of us. I won’t ask again,” I murmur as I press my lips against his.
I feel his hand slide up my back and twist in my hair before he deepens the kiss. His tongue invades me, and everything but him disappears.
“I want you checked out by Pavlov. Do you need to move some appointments around?” he murmurs against my lips when he’s broken the kiss.
“I think I’m okay,” I say. He shakes his head.
“Nyet.”
“I don’t have an appointment until three,” I sigh. He nods.
I wait in the little office with Inessa. She’s sitting on the table, just swinging her legs as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. I can’t explain what went through me, the rage mixed with fear, when I saw her on the floor earlier. Alla, that cunt, she’s done.
“You’re making me nervous,” Inessa mutters. I look up from my bouncing knee.
I’m making her nervous, but I’m actually terrified. If something happens to the baby, if there’s something wrong, it’s going to be my fault. I’m the one that stormed out of our apartment. It was my work she came into looking for me, and one of my whores that pulled her down.
“Let’s check everything out,” Pavlov says, wheeling a machine into the room.
“What’s that?” I demand.
“An ultrasound machine, Dominik. We’ll be able to get a visual on the baby and check the heartbeat. Normally, I would just use the Doppler, but you fell, so I want to take a look at the same time,” he murmurs as Inessa lays down and lifts her sweater over her small, round belly.
I watch as Pavlov squirts some clear jelly on her stomach and then presses a wand against her flesh.
“Come over here,” Inessa murmurs, her eyes locked onto the screen.
I stand and walk over to her side, taking her hand in mine and looking from her to the screen. There, in black and white, is a squirming thing. It looks like a giant head with a round middle and four things coming out of it, possibly limbs, but not to scale. It looks mutated.
“Pavlov, what’s this?” I ask in confusion.
Then the room fills with a whooshing sound and my eyes widen even more.
“This is your baby,” he murmurs.
“What’s wrong with it?” I whisper.
“Nothing, Dominik. It will grow. It’s still early and developing,” he chuckles.
He goes on to tell us that Inessa’s fall to the ground doesn’t seem to have had any sort of impact, most likely because she landed on her side. He does suggest that she take it easy for a few days and watch for any bleeding. If there is any, she’s to come to the emergency room immediately.
“How’s Konstantin?” she asks after her belly is cleaned up and she’s back to sitting on the table instead of lying down.
“He’s been released. He’s home now,” Pavlov mentions.
We leave his office and I demand that she cancel her showings this afternoon.
“I can’t, these clients are picky, and they’re demanding,” she practically groans.
“I’ll go with you then,” I grunt.
“No, you have work to do,” she insists. I shake my head, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side.
“Yagodka, nothing is more important than you are,” I say, pressing my lips to her temple. “Besides, I can do what I need to from my phone.”
I spend the afternoon with Inessa. I watch her work, and I’m amazed and in awe of not only how gorgeous she is, but also how professional she carries herself.
The only time I’ve seen her work, aside from today, is when I met her. I was more worried about making sure I got in her space, rattled her, and got her number more than anything. Now that I have her and I’m just observing her in action, I’m amazed and impressed.
I take a few phone calls while she’s showing some homes, though I never stray far from her. I still try to give her the space to do her work. When her last viewing is over, she walks straight over to me and rests her head on my shoulder.
“I have to lock up, then we can leave,” she murmurs.
“Are you tired?” I ask, rubbing her back.
“Yeah,” she breaths. Fuck if it doesn’t go straight to my cock.
“Lock up, yeah?” I grunt.
Once she’s locked the house, I guide her to my car. I had one of my guys take her flashy red car back to our apartment so that we didn’t have to get it tonight. I order in some dinner to be delivered to our place as we head that way. It’s getting late, I’m hungry, and I’m sure Inessa is starving.
“Thanksgiving is in two days. Do I need to do anything for this party?” she yawns.
“Nyet. It’s a dinner party, fancy and all that.”
“So a dress,” she laughs.
“Yeah,” I shrug as we pull into the parking garage.
“In two days,” she says before she starts chewing on her bottom lip.
Once I’m parked, I get out of the car and jog over to her side to open the door for her. I take her hand and help her out of her seat, leading her toward the elevator. We ride up together, my arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close to me and resting my hand on the side of her belly.
I close my eyes for a moment, thinking about the little squirming baby inside of her. I did that—we created that.
So fucking beautiful.
My heart swells and I wonder—is this what love feels like? My heart swollen and proud—so fucking proud of her, of the fact that she’s growing this life, my child’s life, inside of her?
I would do anything for the two of them right now.
Any-fucking-thing.
I STYLE MY HAIR—well, run my fingers through the big curls so that it looks a little more relaxed and soft to the touch. The long sleeve, navy blue lace dress I’m wearing fits snug from chest to right above my knees, yet has the stretch I crave for my growing belly. Though my baby bump is still minuscule, I feel sexy in this, comfortable, and more pregnant looking instead of just pudgy.
I slip on the nude, high heeled booties I bought yesterday before walking into the closet to grab my coat. My coat matches my booties. It’s light cream colored with a thick fur collar and fur lining to keep me warm. I want to believe the fur is faux, but the price was outrageous, so I’m inclined to believe otherwise. I just try not to think about it as I tie the belt around my waist.
“Ready, yagodka?” Dominik calls from the doorway.
I look up with a smile as I grab my clutch from the bed and make my way toward him.
Dominik looks so handsome in his suit, not that he wears much else, but tonight he wanted to match me. He’s wearing a navy blue, textured wool suit. It matches my dress to perfection, and I know it’s expensive just by the touch. His tie matches his suit, and he’s wearing a white tailored button up shirt underneath. His shoes are a medium brown leather, and they give an extra pop that makes his look come together in a way that is all him. Classic yet effortless.
“I’m ready,” I murmur.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” he whispers, pulling me into his chest before his lips touch my cheeks then go to my ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”
“Nik,” I breathe.
“Let’s go before I mess you up and we stay home,” he chuckles.
“Is this just for Thanksgiving?” I ask, clutching a bottle of expensive vodka to my chest.
I refused to go to the party empty handed, so Dominik grabbed a bottle of vodka, a brand he says is Pasha’s favorite, and I wrapped the neck in a pretty bow and attached a thank you card to it before we left.
“No. Pasha’s daughter is going through suitors. Apparently, she’s got a dossier of men to choose from,” he shrugs.
“Really?” I ask, thinking about the men Yakov showed me and how awful they were.
“She’s a Pakhan’s daughter, and Pasha is not just any Pakhan. He’s powerful. They’re have been men vying for her hand since the moment she was born. Pasha didn’t attempt a match. He spoils her,” Dominik shrugs.
“She seemed very nice when I met her,” I murmur.
“Losing her mother the way she did, it changed her. Fortunately, that change took some of the spoiled bitch out of her. Sucks the way it happened, though,” he mutters as we pull up to Pasha’s house.
His home isn’t like any other home I’ve seen. It’s a sprawling estate, and it’s massive. It’s lit up and gorgeous, decorated in Christmas lights and greenery for the holidays.
I can’t wait to see what the inside looks like. If the six-foot tall nutcrackers standing on each side of the doorway are any indication, I bet the inside is like a Christmas carnival of decor.
Dominik helps me out of the car while he tosses his keys to the Valet, something else that shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. I’ve met Pasha several times, and he doesn’t seem flashy at all, but this home and this party show a different side.
Once we’re inside of the house, there is a coat check, and I shake my head as Dominik takes my coat off before handing it to the attendant. Then, his hand slides to the small of my back, and we walk into the party together.
There aren’t as many people as I had originally anticipated. Perhaps seventy-five bodies stand around the living area, talking and drinking while a few waiters walk around with trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Dominik lifts his chin and applies a bit of pressure to my back as we make our way a little further into the room.
There is a group of people standing around, and the only ones I recognize are Ashley and Yakov. Ashley is standing with some women, all beautiful, but all complete strangers to me.
“Oh, Inessa, you have to meet my friends from California,” Ashley says, taking my hand and tugging me toward the girl group. I look back at Dominik and he gives me a small grin.
I spend the next couple of hours meeting and talking to Haleigh, Emiliya, Tatyana, and Ashley. Haleigh, Emiliya, and Tatyana’s husbands all work together, Tatyana’s being the Pakhan of their area in California.
Apparently, at one time, Haleigh and her husband Maxim lived right here in New York, and all of them were close to Sonia before she passed, making this party location bittersweet for them.
“So, when are you due?” Haleigh asks. “Ashley told us,” she quickly says, as if to cover up some kind of faux-paux.
“The end of May,” I murmur with a smile as my hand automatically rests on my stomach.
“How exciting. Maxim has been talking about more children,” she murmurs as her eyes drift over to a very handsome blond man who is talking to Dominik.
“How many do you have?” I ask.
“Two,” she murmurs with a faraway gaze, a gaze of contentment. I wonder if I will look the same once I’ve had this baby.
“I think one is enough for me,” I murmur, still unsure of how my future with Dominik will play out.
“One is never enough for these men. Once you really start to show, and then when that baby comes into the world, he’ll keep getting you pregnant,” Emiliya says, her eyes narrowed on a terrifying dark haired man. A man I would not want to cross paths with, ever.
“Emiliya?” Tatyana asks, her long golden blonde hair swinging around her shoulders as she looks from the men back to Emiliya.
“Yes,” she grinds out. “Baby number three,” she practically cries. “He wants another boy.”
“That’s fantastic news,” Ashley whispers as her hand rests on her own baby bump, slightly larger than mine.
“Rurik isn’t even a year old. This is ridiculous,” Emiliya says,
all but stomping her foot.
“You have us, you know that,” Haleigh murmurs as she reaches out and takes Emiliya’s hand.
“I know. I’m just being dramatic,” she says as she inhales a deep breath and then lets it go.
“So, Semion?” Tatyana says as her head swivels. She watches a big, tall, handsome man who is talking to Oksana.
“I think she wouldn’t be able to handle his occupation,” Ashley murmurs.
“What’s he do?” I ask out of curiosity.
“He runs a strip club,” Tatyana announces, taking a sip of water from her glass.
“I definitely understand why that would be a problem,” I mutter.
“Yeah?” Ashley asks in a way where I can tell she wants more from me but doesn’t feel like it’s her place to ask outright. Though, the way she is watching me, I can tell she knows.
“I thought—I thought once he married you, all of that would change,” Ashley murmurs quietly.
The other women start to converse amongst themselves about Semion and Oksana, but my bottom lip trembles just thinking about Dominik having his office in that whorehouse. I think about all those women he’s been with, about how I’m not sure I trust that he isn’t still with them. He swears he isn’t, but I don’t know if I can trust him, and I hate that.
I want to believe him, and I’ve just been ignoring where he is. If I think about it, I’ll question it, and he’s really given me no reason to suspect anything.
“The women?” I ask softly.
“Yeah, the call girls,” she murmurs. My response is to shrug, because I can’t defend him. I honestly don’t know.
“You know,” I state.
She nods and looks at me with pity, pity I absolutely despise. I shouldn’t be upset about things that I am just imagining. It’s not as though anything has happened, especially lately, it’s just always in the back of my mind that the women are so readily available for him. It makes me feel insecure, and that’s the worst, that I allow myself to feel that way with zero cause. Then her eyes skirt past me and I see them light up with excitement. I turn around and Uncle Pavlov is making his way toward us.
Tempting the Badman (Russian Bratva #5) Page 20