by V. F. Mason
My nails dug deeper into his back, leaving marks of ownership. Lately, I noticed Radmir’s traits in myself. There was something deeply satisfying in having your man show everyone that he was taken, even if it seemed tacky. “We’re on a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea miles from Greece. Who would watch us?”
He walked down the stairs to our room and finally dropped me on the bed, while quickly removing his shorts. “You really think I’d have come here without making sure we are protected?” He raised his brow as if daring me to say otherwise to him.
Cocking my head, I studied the magnificent handsomeness of my man while I absorbed his information.
How could I have been so naïve? He was sovietnik of the Bratva after all!
After all the events that took place back in Moscow, we couldn't wait to go back home. Radmir gave me the choice to return to the States, and while I appreciated the gesture, we both understood that for a functioning relationship, we had to live in one country. He couldn't turn his back on the Bratva, plus Jake needed stability in his life. Michael and Vitya gave the keys back of our dream home, joking that they never took Radmir seriously anyway. As a result, he bought them a house next to us, so we had great neighbors. It had two floors, and the view opened onto the beautiful forest, so in the mornings, the birds singing would wake us up, which was so different from the traffic sounds of New York, but I loved it. My gallery was running smoothly with Connie’s supervision, and I made trips to the States twice a month to look over the new pictures and meet people. My possessive Russian usually went with me, while Jake stayed with Rosa, because we didn’t want him to miss school that he had started just recently.
Although the Bratva and my family each insisted on a huge-ass wedding to take place in each country, we refused and quickly married in Russia and had a small dinner. Radmir and I just had no desire for a party; maybe because all the dreams we had so many years ago were no longer valid. We’d both changed so much, and we valued our time together. I had no desire for all the wedding preparations. We just wanted to be together. This little vacation was sort of our honeymoon. We decided to roam around Europe on a yacht for two months and enjoy ourselves to the fullest.
We wouldn't have another opportunity for a long time.
“And by protected, you mean…?” I asked curiously, while he pushed his knee on the bed, dipping it slightly as he loomed above me, and I ended up flat on my back while his shoulders nudged my legs apart as he made room for himself.
“The Bratva’s byki are roaming on another boat some distance away from us, but close enough to help in case there is any danger. Where do you think all the food comes from?” He chuckled while closing his lips around my pointed nipple, and I moaned in pleasure, tugging on his hair as his hand pushed my hips to the bed, not allowing me to escape his sweet torture. He shifted to the other one, repeating the action and driving me crazy in the process. Every part of my body was electrified, and the lightest of touches evoked a deep need to have him inside me. “Sensitive aren't they?” His voice was smug, and if it wasn't for me feeling so good, I probably would have hugged his shoulders… but it would’ve meant him stopping. So I had to keep it for another time.
He slid down, kissing my stomach gently, pausing for a second. “How does my other favorite girl feel?” Warmth rushed through me as a small smile tugged at my lips.
“It could be a boy.” We found out about the baby right before the trip, because we needed a few shots, and I’d felt really tired lately. So they ran some tests and gave us the news. I could never forget the wonder, shock, and fear combined all at once on his face when I gave him the results. He hugged me close and rocked me for a while, his hand protectively laying over my stomach. At moments like those, my heart hurt painfully from all the moments we had lost with my first pregnancy, but maybe that was the reason it happened so fast for us again, since we didn't even plan it. A chance to finally experience it together in love, not loneliness and despair like the first time.
“A girl with your eyes.” He kissed my navel one last time, and then his breath fanned my core while he scratched my thigh with the beard he preferred not to shave on our getaway. I didn't mind one bit.
Digging my nails into his shoulder, I tried to shift him up, but he wouldn't budge and sent me an annoyed glance. “Let me pleasure you first, krasivoglazaya.”
“Radmir, please, I have no patience for foreplay.” If he didn't enter me right that second, I’d go insane from need.
He rose up, placing his hands under my shoulders while he gave me a deep kiss, and then we both breathed heavily with the tip of his cock nestled at my entrance. “I love you, Vivian. I wouldn't change all the shit we went through, so long as it meant ending up here, right now with you.” A single tear ran down my cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. That was my man, declaring his feelings but always with word shit in it. But to me, those were the most romantic words I’d ever heard.
“I love you too, babe,” I whispered into his ear while he entered me gently, and for a long time, there was nothing but moans and pleasure present on the yacht.
Michael was right after all. This life was one wonderful gift that I’d cherish for the rest of my life.
Twenty Years Later
Vivian
“Chill, Dad,” Octavia said, while popping another grape in her mouth, and I barely restrained myself from bursting with laughter noticing Radmir’s grim expression. He still couldn't get used to the fact she stopped calling him papochka, which meant daddy in Russian, and shifted to dad, because it sounded cooler. She didn't want to be perceived as weak—or that was the excuse she had given him.
Anyhow, Radmir was not pleased.
“Don’t tell me to chill, lastochka,” he warned, throwing the morning paper on the chair and pointing a finger at her. “We had an agreement.”
Octavia rolled her eyes, putting more Nutella on her toast and hastily drinking her tea right before answering, “And I’m sticking to it. I’ll just finish my business degree in three years, instead of two. That’s all. No big deal.” She took a generous bite out of it, chewing loudly, and I shook my head while pouring tea into my thermos, as I had to be in the gallery in an hour.
We currently resided in our Manhattan penthouse, because I had an important show to run for a few weeks. We bought it at first to use for our trips back here, but then the kids grew up and wanted to study in New York. So they just ended up living here. Jake moved out two years ago; he lived in a smaller apartment, claiming he wanted to do it on his own, and we respected that decision. We tried not to interfere much in their lives, because freedom was an important aspect of them growing into the people they wanted to be.
Of course, that was my reasoning. My stubborn husband still kept tabs on them with weekly reports. There was just no reasoning with him regarding those.
While Radmir dreamed about his little girl that he would spoil all the freaking time, he didn't expect her to end up loving cars, her second nature, and dreaming about opening her own mechanic shop where she’d spend days with them. She’d fallen in love with his collection back in Russia, and when she was little, he’d buy her all those expensive collection pieces of model cars, and she’d keep them on her shelves and admire them. She read all the books on the subject, and by the age of thirteen, she knew more about cars than any man in the Bratva. By the age of fifteen, she came up with a business plan, but Radmir refused to agree to it. In his head, she had all opportunities in the world. Why would she even want to be a mechanic? While she cried and slammed doors loudly, coming up with ways for him to agree, I understood where his concern came from. It had nothing to do with disrespecting the profession, but his mother and how she dreamed of big things but never got the chance to experience them.
Finally, he caved, but she promised to finish her degree first. She agreed, but a few months ago, she found a job at a shop and spent her days there. Her boss decided to give her a full-time job, and she jumped on the opportunity, wanting
hands-on experience.
“First, one year, then what? No degree at all?” Radmir bellowed, while Octavia didn't even flinch. She just stared at him with a stubborn expression on her face, clearly not budging at all. They were quite the pair, although they shared no physical traits whatsoever. She was all me with her vivid blue eyes, brown locks that she recently cut into a short bob since her hair got in the way of her work, and a body she covered up with jeans and T-shirts. She loved dressing up, but not for work. All in all, I was freaking proud of my girl.
“Radmir.” My voice snapped his attention to me, and he exhaled heavily.
Then he wrapped his hand around her neck and brought her closer to him, into the crook of his arm, while she smiled brightly. “I love you, lastochka. Always remember that. But I swear to God, you will finish this degree.”
She hugged him closer and giggled loudly. “Of course, papochka.” He immediately softened. The little sneaky vixen knew what she was doing.
Glancing at the clock, I noticed I only had thirty minutes left and came closer to the table. I gave Octavia a light kiss on the head as she rose to meet me halfway, and I then leaned down to kiss Radmir, who instead placed me on his lap while our daughter groaned.
“Really, people. No kissing in the house. Dad invented the rule.”
He sent her a stern look. “That rule only applies to you.” Then he gave me a soft kiss. “Have a nice day, krasivoglazaya. I’ll pick you up in few hours.” Nodding, I was about to get up, when the elevator to the penthouse dinged loudly and Artur entered the apartment, holding a box of donuts in his hands.
“Hey, malishka, I stopped by your favorite place and thought about—” His voice halted as he noticed us and he froze in place, while Radmir tensed next to me as we shared a look with Octavia. She cast her eyes down, exhaled heavily, and then quickly got up to stand next to Artur.
“Thanks, you’re such a good friend.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “My parents are here! Who would have thought, huh? Came this time without calling!” She almost shouted the last part, but for whose benefit, I had no clue. Even strangers could see she was lying, so it was hilarious that she bothered with us.
Artur held Radmir’s stare then cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around Octavia’s waist while she tried to get away, but he said, “Stop.” She listened at once, swallowing loudly as he addressed us. “We are together. For a year now. You accept it or not, this is going to happen. I mean no disrespect, sovietnik.” He pushed his glasses higher on his nose while Radmir stayed silent.
Artur was Yuri and Melissa’s son, and he studied engineering at Columbia University, planning to work with oil corporations in the future. He mostly stayed silent, never engaging in fights or discussions. Most people found him boring, but there were flashes of something in his eyes… which bothered me a lot. The only time his gaze ever softened was when he looked at Octavia. She was the only one who evoked emotion in him. They had been inseparable most of their lives, since they had only a few months between them. Best friends since kids, and while we women suspected it would transfer to something more, the men probably didn't see it coming.
“Fine,” Radmir suddenly said, and then pushed me up gently. “You’ll be late, krasivoglazaya. Go. The kids have some explaining to do.” He chuckled as I winked at him. Yeah, he was an alpha male who protected his kids. But he wouldn't stand in the way of their happiness, and it warmed my heart that he didn't go into hysterics.
Picking up my mug, I patted Artur on the head. “See you kids later.”
Finally entering the elevator, I wondered what the hell my older child was doing, when my phone ran loudly, and I noticed the caller ID.
Why would Konstanciya call me this late from Russia?
Once the conversation was done, I was ready to kill my husband.
Jake.
What will I do with you?
Radmir
“Thanks for that, son.”
Jake laughed in my ear just as I almost reached the door of Vivian’s gallery. “Come on, Dad, we both know you can handle it. She’d never let me agree to it if I raised the subject during dinner or something.”
Shaking at my son’s stupidity, I considered for a second hanging up on him but then remembered that we had other matters to discuss. “Boy, you have a lot to learn about women if you think I’ll go unscathed after this. You just ruined my plans for an entire weekend.”
He groaned at the other end of the line. “Dad, for the love of God, I seriously don’t need to know that stuff.” Then he cleared his throat. “So Lily grew up.”
Frowning at this weird information, I walked inside the gallery, where Vivian stood next to her latest masterpiece, studying it with interest as she shifted it slightly, so the frame would be right in the middle of the wall. Various pictures were scattered around the floor with titles and the expensive small details she liked to add to different frames. The usual mess before a show, somehow she always transformed it into magical creations depending on the theme she chose. This time, it had something to do with united between generations with no relation to each other, but rather their workplace. As she traveled through Russia, she took different pictures of generations and generations of people doing various professions.
Then she turned to me, sending daggers my way, as her tight, black pencil dress emphasized the body my hands twitched to touch.
I had spent the last few weeks in Russia heavily invested in mafia rivalry, so we couldn't spend much time with each other. I had big plans for this trip, dinners and sex.
Lots of fucking sex that with years just got better. But thanks to my son, my wife was pissed as hell at me.
Kids.
“Yeah, she is quite the beautiful one.” Rosa and Dominic’s daughter planned to be a prosecutor, and it probably didn't make anyone as happy as me. Considering my kid ended up being a lawyer, I had to listen for years to countless jokes from the Bratva members that someday my son would be saving my ass or work for our opponent. Needless to say, Lily warmed my heart with her decision. A lawyer was bad, but a prosecutor? It was fucking hilarious. Dominic just groaned anytime someone brought it up, because his girl was crazy about all this stuff, already knowing all the laws and having her own gun collection. “Why?” Silence followed my question, and dread filled me.
Fuck, I hoped it wasn't what I thought it was. Those would be seriously fucked-up problems, and having Dom up my ass because of my son wasn't on my agenda for life. I had enough problems with Yuri’s son, who claimed my baby girl. His only saving grace was that they were so close in age, and he’d never hurt her. Otherwise, he would have had his ass kicked a long time ago.
“She’ll be mine.”
Just like that, my hopes crushed, and I sighed in resignation. His voice held no trace of hesitation, and the kid was cocky enough to think he was irresistible. I loved my kid, but he just had no clue what he signed up for.
“Lily isn't a girl you can screw and leave,” I warned, knowing full well my son’s reputation. He wasn't exactly known for sticking to one girl. Somehow Jake ended up being a complete whore, changing girls like shoes, and honestly, Lily deserved better. I’d hate to hit my own son for not keeping his pants zipped.
“I know that,” he answered angrily.
Vivian’s brows rose in surprise as she folded her arms, while cocking her head curiously.
“Do you? Have you made your claim on her known?” I prayed he didn’t, the boy was just too young to sign up for the treatment that awaited him.
“Of course.” He sounded offended now.
“Son, you do realize you will have to stay away from women? One simple mistake, and the pakhan will never give you access to his princess.” And I could relate to that. If Artur screwed up, I wouldn't hesitate to cut all access to my only daughter from him. We loved all the Bratva kids, but men drew the line at their daughters. We didn't raise them for some fuckups to break their hearts.
“Yeah, Dad. I know what I want.” He cleared hi
s throat. “Wouldn’t mind your support though, just saying.”
My heart panged painfully when I detected the traces of vulnerability in his voice, bringing me back in time to when he used to be a small kid and needed me in everything. Parents sometimes forgot kids needed their moral support no matter how old they were, twenty-five or five.
“You have it.”
Vivian snatched the phone from me, before I could hear his reply. “Jake, you agreed to work for the Bratva without telling me?” She glared at me, but I just shrugged. What was there to tell? He agreed to help with Bratva dealings when he visited Russia a few times a year, but it most probably would change with his obsession with the girl. I might as well kiss my private times with my wife goodbye. Jake wouldn't live far away from Lily now.
Fucking kids.
“What do you mean you will call me later? Jake? Jake!” Vi shouted and then glared at me with her mouth open. “Your son just hung up on me!”
Removing the phone from her hands, because she almost dropped it on the floor in frustration, I placed it on the table and then hugged her close as she pressed her palms on my chest, not giving me complete access to her, and I growled in displeasure.
“The minute we get back home, I’ll kick his ass in the ring. It’ll teach him a lesson.” While I understood why he did it, the boy had a long lecture coming. No one disrespected my wife, not even our beloved kids. She laughed softly, finally giving in and nuzzling into my neck as I swayed us from side to side.
“At least they are in love,” she mused, playing with the neck of my shirt.
“Dangerous love,” I pointed out, to her frown.
“Why?”
“One mistake, and it might lead to problems in the Bratva.” She shook her head and then wrapped her hands around my neck while mine went around her waist. Even in her high heels, which she still adored, she barely reached my shoulders.
“Let’s worry about it, if it comes to this. What do you have planned for us, my sexy Russian?”