Uncle Tolya turned out to be the killer, and now Viktor is being strangely civil, Alexandra noted. Funny how things could change so quickly.
“Sergei’s interrogation, combined with recently-pulled information from our intelligence agents, shows that, without a shadow of a doubt, Anatoly Popov is the one who killed my father. Once we knew what we were looking for, we even found the paper trail to his cyanide purchase,” Viktor said coolly. The room was silent as everyone took a moment to absorb the information.
“For those who want to see the evidence, or if anyone dares to even think about questioning my verdict or my wife’s loyalty, the folders in front of you have everything you need to see for yourselves.” Viktor gestured toward the manila envelopes scattered across the table. Some of the men shuffled through the papers with barely a glance while others scoured the information as though looking for inconsistencies.
After a few minutes that were silent save for the rustling of papers, Alexandra saw the doubt and hostility fading from the expressions of the men. Some of them even looked a bit remorseful.
Thank God there would be no further distrust of the Volkin family, Alexandra thought. It seemed the nightmare was over.
“Do we have him?” someone asked from the group. “Did we get Popov?”
“No,” Viktor’s voice came like steel, “but when we get him, we will make him pay. Not just for the murder, but also for framing Alexandra’s father.” Viktor wrapped his arm around Alexandra protectively, and she wanted to swoon when she felt him pull her near.
“We could not have figured this out without her help.” Viktor stated with honor.
Had she just heard that correctly? Alexandra’s eyes brightened as pride and confidence swept over her. A smile broke out on her face, and she beamed.
“My wife,” Viktor added, “is as smart as she is beautiful.”
With that, Alexandra felt herself melt for him. She felt her emotion spreading through her with relief as color rose to her cheeks, and she gazed at Viktor thankfully as he looked over to her. Their eyes met, and love flowed through her stronger than ever before when she saw the devotion behind Viktor’s eyes.
Despite their challenges, despite her uncertainty over the past few days, she knew now, in this moment, that Viktor was the man she had truly been meant to marry.
“We will discuss our plans for dealing with Popov at a later date,” Viktor announced. “Are there any further questions, gentlemen?” he asked. There was a touch of urgency to his voice, and Alexandra imagined everyone heard it—at the very least, she did.
The room was silent. Some men shook their heads. Others tucked their papers back into the folders.
“Good,” Viktor continued. “This meeting is adjourned.”
The group rose from their seats and filed out into the hall in turn. As soon as the last man closed the door behind him, Viktor swept his arm across the table to send folders and papers scattering to the ground. Alexandra let out a short cry of surprise as she felt herself lifted onto the table, facing him.
“You’re so sexy,” Alexandra purred once she’d caught her breath. Viktor leaned down and pressed their mouths together for a deep kiss. After a few slow motions of their lips, Alexandra felt his tongue against hers. She returned the gesture and explored his mouth. Her fingers played along the hard edge of his stubbled jaw while they rejoiced in the taste of one another.
She heard the zip of his fly then, and broke their kiss to pull her panties off from under her dress. Once her underwear had been kicked away, she put a hand on Victor’s waistband to help him tug down his pants and boxers.
He was already hard for her—no doubt as a result of the passionate moment when their eyes had locked, after he had complimented her in front of everyone. Alexandra realized he must have been sitting with an erection for her in front of his men, and she felt herself grow slick thinking about it.
“There is no doubt, now, moya sladkaya. No walls, no pretenses. This is for you and only for you.” Viktor dragged his teeth against Alexandra’s ear. Her pussy ached for him in response.
A low moan escaped her lips, and she arched her back for him. Viktor leaned over her, wrapped a powerful arm around her to keep her steady, and used his free hand to guide his eager cock toward her hungry entrance. She pressed her hips forward to unite their bodies.
“Oh God, you feel so good,” Viktor gasped out as he pushed into her. His girth satisfied her in all the right ways, completing her, and a breathless cry of absolute pleasure rose from her throat.
“You, too,” she breathed out. “I-I always forget how big you are,” Alexandra panted. “Keep going. Keep filling me.”
Their eyes met and their souls ignited for one another.
Since the day they’d met, Alexandra had wondered which Viktor was real: the cold-eyed, heartless mob boss, or the charming man who’d sat across from her at breakfast. Now she knew, truly knew in the core of her being, that he was a good man who genuinely cared about her.
The fear bled away. Her distrust bled away, and all that remained was an appreciation for this man who was so tough and so loyal, who could also be so delightfully tender.
Alexandra spread her legs wider and wrapped them around his waist, drawing their bodies ever nearer. In turn, he wrapped both arms around her so she could feel the hardness of his muscles. She rode his thrusts with need, breath hitching in her throat.
“I want you to be at my side. To help me rule my empire. To share in my power and be respected as an equal.” Viktor’s breath was hot against her neck as he spoke. She nuzzled the side of his face and took in a deep breath, appreciating the masculine scent of his skin.
“Oh, Viktor.” Alexandra was breathless. She bucked against him, twisted her hips down to press her clit against his length in rhythm. The growing pressure inside of her, combined with the stimulation of her sensitive nub, threatened to send her free-falling into climax. Viktor moaned against her ear—a deep, throaty noise—and she panted in response.
“I love you, Alexandra,” Viktor whispered against her ear.
“I love you, too, Viktor,” she whispered back.
Viktor’s pace increased. Each thrust of his cock made the table wobble. Papers fluttered to the ground as Alexandra’s heart fluttered in her chest.
“I’m going to come. You’re going to make me come,” she moaned.
“Come for me.” There was a hint of a dare in Viktor’s voice, and it drove Alexandra wild for him. “I want to feel you come against me. Right here, on the table where I have my meetings.”
“Oh God, God—” Alexandra’s voice broke as she found release, her pussy spasming hard and clenching around him. Viktor drove himself deep into her, and joined her in climax. She could feel the throb of his cock in contrast to the throb of her walls, and fireworks of ecstasy danced in her vision.
They remained locked in an embrace. Her legs dangled from the table, a pile of folders and papers in disarray on the carpeting below them. Heat rose from her skin, and she shuddered in absolute delight and slowly pressed her head against his. It was bliss—total bliss—and at last, it was hers.
Epilogue
Alexandra
The familiar gold onion domes of the Russian Orthodox church stirred Alexandra’s memories of their first wedding. Today, she and Viktor would renew their vows during what they were both calling ‘the real wedding.’ Without Boris’s death and Viktor’s mistrust to sully their day, both hoped that this ceremony would solidify their relationship as husband and wife.
Alexandra’s wedding dress was just as dazzling as the one she’d worn previously, and Viktor’s suit just as dashing, as they stood at the white-draped altar. Alexandra was only disappointed when she noticed Elena was absent. Even though Elena had acted strangely during their past few visits, Alexandra dearly wished her best friend could be there for her big day.
The couple stood opposite each other, with a white-bearded priest slightly behind them. The priest finished his opening remark
s and gestured toward them with a knobby hand.
“Viktor and Alexandra, the vows you are about to make are a way to share your love and commitment to each other in your own words. These vows are your way of openly declaring your promises to one another, as well as to all who are in attendance. Viktor, you may go first.”
Viktor shifted his weight and withdrew a folded slip of paper from an interior jacket pocket. He gazed deeply into Alexandra’s eyes and, with a soft smile, unfolded the paper and began to read.
“Alexandra, I love you with all my heart. When we first stood at this altar many days ago, the day was stained with blood and I was not able to give my heart to you completely. As I got to know the gorgeous, kind, strong woman who I had married, I began to feel something I hadn’t known before: hope.” Viktor paused and looked to Alexandra with tenderness, then continued.
“Because of you, Alexandra, I dare to dream. You taught me that fear is not the key to respect. You have brought warmth and love into my life that I did not know possible. I love you beyond words. No hug will ever be tight enough, no kiss passionate enough, to quench my hunger for you. Now that you have ignited the flame in my heart and stoked it into a wildfire, I cannot get enough of you.”
Alexandra began to tear up. She listened, each word penetrating her heart and soul.
“On this day, I promise to love you without condition. I promise to serve and protect you, through good times and bad. I promise to lift you when you fall, and honor you each and every day of my life. This is my solemn vow—now, and forever, to strive to be the husband you deserve.” Viktor folded the paper up and carefully tucked it back into his pocket.
Alexandra felt like someone had placed a cinder block on her chest as she struggled to maintain her composure; love overflowed her, and she was so happy that it was hard for her to remember to breathe. She had never heard Viktor speak like that, and it moved her to no end.
The priest smiled at her and said, “You can go now, Alexandra.”
She did not need a paper. She had committed every word to memory—a mantra to live by.
“Viktor, I am honored to share my life with you. From this day forward, you have every ounce of my love, unconditionally. I have no greater gift to give. Your trust is my strength, your heart is my shelter, and your arms are my home. I promise myself to you, and you alone, with unending loyalty. I promise to love you under any circumstances, in sickness and in health, laughter and tears, until the end of time. You are my partner forever in the adventure of marriage that lies ahead.”
The crowd was teary-eyed and sniffling now, but Alexandra and Viktor didn’t notice. Their eyes were locked, the world had melted away, and all that existed was their love in this perfect, special moment. They had overcome fear and uncertainty, their conflict forging an unshakeable bond.
“You may exchange rings,” the priest announced. Viktor carefully slipped a wedding band onto Alexandra’s finger. He caressed her hand as he did so, and Alexandra’s stomach tied itself up in excited knots. She, in turn, slid a ring onto Viktor’s finger.
“Do you, Viktor Sokolov, take Alexandra Volkin to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asked.
“I do,” Viktor said.
“And do you, Alexandra Volkin, take Viktor Sokolov to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.” Alexandra beamed, anticipating what was to come next.
“By the power vested in me, under God and under law, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Viktor drew Alexandra into an embrace she returned without reserve, and they held each other tight, and kissed deeply. The crowd erupted with cheering and applause so loud that the priest needed to wait a moment before blessing their wedding and giving his closing remarks.
After the ceremony, the couple slipped into the crowd and basked in the well-wishes and congratulations offered to them from all sides. Alexandra hugged her mother and father, and was elated to see her father shaking Viktor’s hand.
“Sergei, I owe you an apology,” Viktor began, but was cut off.
“Nonsense. You could have done much worse, and even when you had the opportunity to do harm, you instead chose to respect me. Without your help, my name would not have been cleared, and something might have happened to my daughter. You have helped to save us, Viktor, and for that we are eternally grateful. Consider the Volkin family allies with yours for as long as there is breath in our lungs and blood in our veins.” Sergei had spoken with heartfelt gratitude, and Alexandra’s heart warmed anew to see her father and her husband so fully reconciled.
While Viktor and her father continued talking, Alexandra scanned the crowd again. There was, of course, no Uncle Tolya this time—Alexandra wondered if and when he would be caught—but there was also no Elena. She sighed. It just wasn’t the same without her best friend at her side. Hopefully, Elena was safe, and hopefully they were still friends. The lack of closure gnawed at Alexandra now that she thought of it again.
“You okay?” Viktor’s voice shook her from her thoughts.
“Yeah, just… I don’t know where Elena could possibly be.” Alexandra frowned. “I can’t help thinking of it.”
“Let me help you with that.” Viktor swept her into his arms and dipped her back for a kiss. The gesture was so smooth and so passionate that Alexandra felt dizzy with love. She kissed him back greedily, and swooned. People were looking, but let them look—it was her wedding day.
“Now and forever,” Viktor whispered against her mouth, “I will cherish you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Alexandra whispered, smiling at him. She’d found her forever—everything else could wait.
End of Married to the Russian Kingpin
Blurb
Elena Popov would do anything for her ruthless father—including assassinate Viktor Sokolov, her best friend Alexandra’s husband. She’ll have no problem with this request, in fact, as Alexandra was forced to marry him. Elena will simply be rescuing her friend from a cruel mob boss.
Pretending she’s defecting, Elena heads to the Sokolov compound, escorted by the most maddening and distracting man she’s ever met. It’s almost as if Roman Garinovich was created just to get under her skin. Still, Elena won’t let Roman stop her from completing her deadly task. There’s just one hitch: Alexandra really loves Viktor, and killing him will crush her. Torn between her loyalty to her father and her best friend, Elena continues to plot, trying to ignore the growing instinct telling her to spare Viktor’s life—and also working to ignore her growing attraction to Roman.
Roman doesn’t believe a word that comes out of Elena’s mouth, however, and he’s not about to let his guard down around her. Deep in his gut, he knows something’s not right about her story… but that doesn’t stop him from acting on his unwelcome attraction to her. Even as he lets Elena into his heart, though, he knows she’s not all that she seems. When he discovers her true reason for being in the Sokolov compound, he’ll have to choose between the woman he loves and his deep loyalty to his friend.
As danger swirls around Elena and Roman, the question becomes whether they can learn to trust not only each other, but what’s in their hearts.
1
Roman
Roman had thought this would be just another mission: pilot a plane to Russia, pick up cargo, and return back home to the Sokolov mansion. Simple. And while it was true that he generally preferred to drive over flying, he hadn’t balked when Viktor had given him his orders to head out from Boston to Russia at the last minute. He hadn’t balked when maintenance at the mafia-run airplane hangar in Boston had told him that engine three had just been replaced and that the safety check would take longer than usual. And he hadn’t even balked when Viktor had refused to give him the details of the mission, only telling him, flatly, that he was to ‘get the cargo and return with it as quickly as possible.’
But Roman was balking now. A restless sleep after he had landed near Moscow had left his eyelids heavy, and now
he’d spent nearly two hours waiting at this Russian mafia hangar, wasting his time in waiting for… what? That was the real question. There was still no sign of his cargo, and there were no extra sets of hands here to answer his questions or help him as he refuelled and then inspected the plane for take-off.
He checked his watch, again. 4:07 p.m. It would be two in the morning back at the Sokolov mansion, but Roman couldn’t bear to stand here and wait blindly any longer. Without knowing what he was waiting for, there was just no way to tell whether this time was worth it, and there was also no way to tell if it might be time sensitive. One way or another, he had a mission to accomplish, and so far there was no cargo in sight. With a sigh, he called Viktor’s cell and hoped he was making the right choice.
The phone rang several times. Roman expected it to go to voicemail, but Viktor picked up on the last ring.
“This had better be good,” Viktor grunted, apparently out of breath.
Roman could only imagine what he’d be doing awake and out of breath at two in the morning—probably better not to ask.
“I am sorry to disturb you, sir, especially at this hour, but I was instructed to be at the hangar at two to pick up the cargo. It is presently past four, no one here has any information for me, and I am, at this time, still without the cargo,” Roman explained.
He heard a faint clicking sound behind him, echoing through the hangar, and pressed the phone closer to his ear so that he could tune out the distraction.
“She’s not there yet?” Viktor asked.
“She?” Roman’s brow furrowed. Had he heard him right?. “Sorry, sir, but what are you talking about?”
“I knew you never would have accepted the job if I told you.” Viktor sounded faintly apologetic. “Your cargo is a woman.”
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