I had never been with a woman who made me feel this way, and I knew it was necessary for me to remain in complete control of her. She had spent her life running, and if I let her, she would repeat that behavior. Running was what she did when things got hard. In my world, things get fucked up and crazy quickly. I would have to save her from herself, but I had no problem with that. I liked the challenge she presented me with.
Weakness was not a luxury a man in my lifestyle could afford. She had no idea how ruthless my enemies could be, and she had to remain safe at all costs. Whether she liked it or not, that meant me having complete control over her life.
I loved her body long into the night, basking in the realization that she was now my wife. The intensity of that knowledge magnified our lovemaking. She would need that memory to hold onto because, tomorrow, I would be gone before she even woke up…
Kathleen
I woke the next morning and thought nothing of Glazov not being in bed with me. Many times when I woke up, he had already left to start his day. I guess it takes an early start to maim and kill your next victim. At least, I wouldn’t have to immediately deal with his ever-watchful eyes.
I had clients today, so it worked out well for me. Knowing he was lurking in the background never made it easy to close a deal. Hopefully, he’d be busy wreaking havoc on someone else today.
Robin had kept up with her end of things, and I was grateful for that. I could only handle one thug at a time. I sure as hell didn’t need her going into debt with one of Glazov’s competitors. I would probably be so mad I would tell them to kill her myself. Hell, I might even be the one to pull the trigger. For some reason, the thought soothed me.
I pulled myself out of bed and tended to the task of getting dressed so I could make my way into work. As it stood, my attitude wasn’t the greatest. I guess being forced into marriage does that to a girl. It just seemed like no matter where I went, I was dealing with other people’s shit.
I decided just to do what I always did when things weren’t going the way I wanted them to. I’d dive into work. It has actually worked quite well for me because it had the two-fold effect of removing me from the situation and giving me financial independence. I’d take any kind of fucking independence I could get right now.
As the day wore on, I knew something was wrong. Glazov had not once called to check up on me. That was highly unusual. In fact, it was unheard of. There had never been a time where he didn’t either have someone tailing me, or he wasn’t stalking me via my phone and the Internet. Many times, one of his goons could be found lurking outside my office. I’d even had them follow me into restaurants where I was having lunch with clients. My husband had enough people on payroll to do his bidding at will.
By the time Yafon picked me up, I was in a full-blown panic. All day long, I had to push away worrisome thoughts of him being dead in an alley somewhere. Was this what my life was going to be like because I married a gangster? Would I worry every single day he left for work whether or not he would come back home alive? It wasn’t just worrying about him dying. I also worried about, if it did happen, how he would die. As many people as my husband had tortured and enjoyed torturing, I didn’t even want to think about what he would be forced to endure if his enemies got their hands on him. The thing about unwanted thoughts is they can become intrusive.
I eyed Yafon’s reflection in the car mirror as he drove me home. “Where is he, Yafon? What is going on?” I was going to nail him down and get some answers. How the fuck did I go from getting married last night to not being able to find my husband today?
He stared back at me in the mirror and shook his head. “No, Missy.”
I knew that was his way of telling me that he was not going to divulge any information to me.
The night rolled around, and still, there was no sign of Glazov. I cried myself to sleep. This was the first night I’d been without him in six months. The not knowing is what gripped my insides and twisted. It wasn’t a love struck kind of cry; it was the cry of a woman who was accustomed to feeling completely in control and suddenly found herself adrift.
Was he in some fucking alley, bent over and struggling to breathe with all his ribs cracked? Had he slumped down the wall into a helpless heap after being beaten and left for dead? I knew one thing and that was if he wasn’t dead, I was going to kill him myself. How the hell could he expect me to account for every moment of my day, yet he could just take off without even having the decency to let me know he wasn’t dead?
Something was wrong, severely wrong. This wasn’t like the man who was obsessed with my every move. People didn’t change overnight, and Glazov was too ingrained with old school Bratva teachings to just disappear from the face of the earth. I knew something horrible must have happened, so my mind went round and round with no answers, and worst of all, no closure.
Chapter Ten
Kathleen
Days turned into weeks, and I felt like a part of me had died. Yafon followed me everywhere but told me nothing. Time after time, I’d resisted the urge to pound my fists into his chest and demand an answer. It would do me no good to fill out a missing person report because the police couldn’t care less if my husband had met his demise. I would get more information through Glazov’s branch of the Bratva. The only thing about going that route was they weren’t going to tell me anything until they were ready. I’ve never been a patient person, and all this waiting was bringing out the worst in me.
I kept trying to convince myself I had not fallen in love with him. Unfortunately, my emotional side wasn’t listening to all my logical arguments. I felt broken inside, like someone took a plow and ran it over my heart, leaving nothing but raw flesh in its wake. I ached inside, like there was an empty hole where my soul should be, pulling me into a bottomless vortex of pain, and it wasn’t the good kind of pain I’d come to crave.
I hurt all the time, and it took all my strength just to keep my face impassive and not fall apart when I was in public. Not knowing whether he was dead or alive had my soul in anguish. It felt as if I was in mourning, like I was grieving his death. Day after day, the cycle went round and round. I went from grief to hope, only to be crashed against waves of reality when another day passed without any word from him. I just needed some answers so all this would end. As badly as I hated to admit it, I was a cliché who needed closure.
I believed the reason I’d tried to convince myself that our relationship was nothing more than sex was because it was so taboo. We are taught from the time we are little girls to stay away from troubled men when we grow up. I had watched my mother as she drifted from loser to loser, and I swore I would never be like her.
I knew Glazov wasn’t like that, but I also knew what society said about controlling men. His control over me stemmed from something different though; his control stemmed from his sexual preferences. He enjoyed being dominant in the bedroom, and that dominance crept into other areas of our lives. Though I was a strong, independent woman, it still sexually aroused me to fight against him, to push him into taking me. It was the basis of our sexual chemistry. He had created a hunger in me for rough sex and dominance. Maybe we were wired differently than other people, except there was no we now, only me.
Every scenario possible ran through my head. He left me for another woman. He was dead. I think Yafon would know if he died, though, and I think he would tell me. Perhaps he is off on some business trip, but why would he keep me in the dark like this? Over and over, my mind tormented me, trying to figure out what happened, but I never got anywhere. I always ended up back at square one with no answers.
I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was that a part of me had died.
How could he be so cruel as to come into my life like a whirlwind and sweep me off of my feet, only to disappear without a trace?
I hated him. I hated him because he made me love him.
None of this made any sense. I simply could not fathom why he would do this to me.
I got so
angry, and I felt beyond stupid when I told myself he would come back for me. How could I be so weak?
My life became a series of days that all ran together. I called it the groundhog effect. I just went through the motions. Without Glazov, there was no longer any passion. He was the only passion I had ever known. He was the only family I had ever had, and he was the only person that had ever been there for me. Where was he?
It was all I could do to function. I felt dead yet anguished. Once again, he had managed to layer emotions so that I was in a constant state of confusion.
Kathleen
“Kathleen, you need to go to the doctor. You can’t go on like this. You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, and you cry all the time. I have already made the appointment for this afternoon. I’ll go with you.”
Robin’s voice sounded distant. I could hear that she was talking, but I was so disconnected from everything that it didn’t matter what she said to me.
This was the first time in a long time I wasn’t mad at her for putting me in this situation. I was so far removed from everything that I just didn’t care anymore. I needed closure. If he was dead, then so be it. I would mourn and move on, but I was caught in neutral like this, unable to move forward without knowing what had happened. Would I read it in a newspaper that he was dead or with another woman?
Closure… Closure… Closure… I ached for closure…
Yafon
I never let the girl out of my sight. I’ve grown to care about her deeply as a friend, but my first allegiance is to my boss.
I can see the poor girl is torn up inside, and it is all I can do to not tell her where my boss is. We are doing what has to be done to keep her safe.
The FBI will never leave her alone now that they know she is connected to Glazov. It is only a matter of time before his enemies catch wind of her, and that could also be detrimental to the girl. I will continue to keep my boss’s location a secret. There is no other choice. I’m only doing what has to be done to keep her safe. Short-term pain for the girl means long-term safety.
There were times I was so angry with my boss for the way he chose to deal with this matter, but trying to talk to Glazov when he has his mind set is like dealing with a brick wall. He makes me as crazy as he makes his woman.
I understood why he was doing what he was doing, but watching the effect it had on his wife was as agonizing for me as it was for her. He wasn’t here to watch her waste away into nothing, but me? I had to watch it first hand, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t want to break down and tell her the truth.
Kathleen
I stared at the doctor seated in front of me in disbelief.
“Yes, Kathleen, you are for sure pregnant. You are eight weeks along. You had to have noticed that you missed your periods.”
“I attributed it to stress.”
“Do you want this baby?”
“Absolutely.”
He patted my leg and smiled. “Then let’s get you started on prenatal vitamins and a good healthy diet. I also want to schedule a sonogram, Kathleen.”
I don’t know how to explain it, but news of my child gave me a renewed desire to get on with my life. Glazov was no longer a part of it. He had done one good thing, though. He had given me a reason to forget him, and now I would make a life for my child and me. If the bastard wasn’t dead, he would soon wish he was because it would be a cold day in hell before I ever let him near me or my baby now. He had abandoned us for no good reason. There was never a good reason to abandon your family, and that’s what he had done. Suddenly, I felt as if I had something I hadn’t had in a very long time. I was taking back control of my life.
I eyed Yafon in the mirror as he drove. “I don’t need you anymore, Yafon. I’m pregnant, and I have no time for a man who would leave his wife and child. I will get an annulment as quickly as I can arrange it. Drop me off at my house.” I breathed in deeply and took a moment to gather my thoughts before I made my next statement. “You’ve been really nice to me, a good friend. I don’t want to be rude to you or to take what Glazov has done out on you. Thank you for all that you’ve done. I’ll always consider you a friend. I just need to close this chapter of my life and make a new beginning for my child and me.”
It felt good to say that, to take control of my life. It was time to move on. For the first time in a month, I slept well and wasn’t plagued with thoughts of Glazov.
I slept in my own home. I slept surrounded by my own things and with my dear, sweet baby tucked safely away in the comfort of my womb. This was our home. It was the place that I would offer my child security, warmth, and love. I would get an annulment so my baby didn’t have to grow up with the last name of a gangster. There wasn’t a judge in the country who wouldn’t grant me an annulment after I told my story.
Once again, life was good…
Kathleen
I spent the next couple of months readjusting to my old lifestyle. I rescheduled my hours at work in a way that was in the best interest of the baby, yet still kept us financially secure. We were going to be okay, and I was going to be a mother.
I didn’t need to wait for a sonogram to know what would happen if I had a boy. I would have to protect him even more because he was Alexander Glazov’s legacy.
There was a part of me that wanted to make Glazov suffer and having no contact with his legacy, his firstborn son, would be hell on earth for him.
I decided then and there to hurry up and get the hearing for the annulment started. For this child’s safety, he couldn’t bear his father’s name. I needed to hurry because if my pregnancy was showing, it would only complicate things legally.
I was a woman on a mission, and my business sense was coming to the forefront once again. This baby had been the best thing for me. He’d wiped any memory of his father from not only my mind, but also my heart, and I no longer hurt.
Now, my life was about preparing for the birth of my child and protecting him at all costs upon his arrival. He was an innocent victim in all of this, and I had no intentions of allowing him to suffer the fallout of other people’s mistakes or bad choices in life.
Chapter Eleven
Kathleen
I was awakened by a persistent and very loud banging. I pulled myself out of my groggy, sleepy state and threw on a robe before I went to answer the door.
“What?” I growled when I saw it was Yafon.
I was letting him know he was no longer welcome on my doorstep. We didn’t need his services anymore. I wanted to cut all ties with Glazov in order to keep my baby safe. If Yafon was hanging around, it could possibly draw enemies of the Bratva. I didn’t know a lot about the logistics of the Russian mafia, but I did know that this baby was all I had, and I would do anything to protect him.
When he removed his cap and solemnly hung his head, I knew.
“No, no, no. Oh God, no!”
I would have crumpled to a heap at his feet had he not caught me. I knew my husband was dead. After that, everything was pretty much a blur, but I knew I would have to attend his funeral in Russia. When would this chaos end?
Kathleen
I sat next to Yafon on a private plane, flying out to attend my husband’s funeral. This would be my first trip to Russia, and my attitude about having Yafon around had done a complete one-eighty. I would need him not only for protection, but also to show me around a country that was foreign to me.
“Missy, you need to eat.” Yafon patted my hand as he placed a bowl of fruit in front of me that the stewardess had brought over.
The last time I was on this plane, my husband fucked me over a table. I wonder if that’s when my baby was conceived?
“Yes, Yafon,” I stated and then picked at the food just to pacify him.
I knew that I must look horrid. The constant crying had, undoubtedly, turned my nose red and made my eyes all swollen. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I loved my husband, and I loved his baby I was carrying. When I hadn’t known what was going on, there had alw
ays been a sliver of hope to hang on to. Regardless of the fact that I had every intention of annulling our marriage, I had never wished my husband dead.
I wondered if he suffered when he died? Was he violently tortured by an enemy, or had it been a quick death? I hoped it was quick. I resisted the urge to question Yafon about the incident. I was truly scared of what he might tell me. It was hard enough accepting his death; I didn’t want the visual of my husband being tortured. I doubted Yafon would be honest with me if I asked anyway.
The captain’s voice interrupted my thoughts and announced our arrival in Moscow. I couldn’t help but wonder why they felt the need to conduct things as if we were on a commercial flight, but right now, I was ready to get off this plane and into a hot bath.
I was ushered into a mansion and shown into a master suite with instructions to use the intercom to request anything I might need. Right now, the only things I needed were a hot bath and a comfortable bed. When Yafon left the room, he turned at the door and instructed me of one more thing. He told me I was never to leave the mansion without him. I hadn’t planned on it. I had no desire to do any sightseeing in a country where my husband had committed so many heinous crimes.
I was glad to finally be left alone, and the only thing I found myself wanting was a glass of Merlot. There was no way I would ever subject my baby to that, so I immediately pushed the thought from my head.
I bathed, dragged myself from the tub, and made my way to bed. I don’t even remember my head hitting the pillow before I fell asleep.
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