You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1)

by Le Carre, Georgia

Secret number three: show how much you love the taste of his semen. I grin up at him. ‘When can I have some more?’

  ‘You really are a dirty girl, aren’t you?’ he says, a tender and probably unintended inflection in his voice.

  ‘Mmmm,’ I moan sweetly, but already I can feel him mentally withdrawing from me.

  He moves away and comes back with my dress, then helps me up and even zips me into my dress.

  ‘That really was fucking something, but I’ve got work to do,’ he says, picking his pants up from the floor and zipping them up. ‘So I’ll say goodnight now.’

  ‘Good night, Zane,’ I say politely, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so knotted up with hurt.

  ‘Sleep well.’

  We are like two strangers. I walk out of his study and vow there and then that I will never trust him again. No matter how nice he is, or how desperate he seems to have sex with me. It is just that. Sex. Did I make a mistake? I behaved like a slut and he treated me like a slut.

  When all is said and done, there is nothing left.

  Nineteen

  Dahlia Fury

  Unless I fall into bed in a drunken stupor I am usually a very light sleeper, and the least noise will wake me. I don’t know what, but a noise filters through my sleep.

  My eyes fly open.

  The room is lit only by the bluish glow from the nightlight that I plugged into the wall just outside the bathroom. I listen intently and I hear it again. Footsteps. Someone is coming up the stairs. Someone is standing outside my door. For a few seconds whoever it is just stands there. Then the door opens.

  It’s him!

  I quickly shut my eyes and pretend to be in a deep sleep. From the slits of my eyes I see him advance towards the bed. He stands over me and looks down. It’s extremely difficult to fake sleep and breathe evenly and deeply when every damn cell and nerve in my body is screaming for me to switch on the light and invite him into my bed, but the memory of how coldly he dismissed me earlier is still raw and bleeding.

  What seems like forever passes before he bends down and quietly leaves something on the bedside table. He turns and walks back to the door. He is more than halfway across the room when something makes him stop and come back.

  For a few heart stopping moments he does nothing, just stands there barely breathing. Then he grasps the duvet and gently pulls it up over my chest and lets it fall softly down on my body. He straightens, walks to the door and closes it soundlessly behind him.

  Hell! What was that all about?

  I am so shocked I don’t move even after I hear his footsteps go back down to the lower floor. Eventually, I switch on the bedside lamp. There is an envelope on the bedside table. I tear it open and out falls a gold card with my name on it, a letter with my new pin number, and another letter advising me of my credit limit.

  My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

  £10,000.00!!

  Well, well. You want me to spend your money so you feel better about your behavior?

  Consider it done.

  I skip breakfast the next morning because I really can’t face the cold omelet, the pink, raw-looking sausages, or the semolina pudding again. I just go down for a cup of coffee and work steadily until lunch.

  By then I am starving. I eat a lot of rye bread with a man-size plate of beef stroganoff, and wash it all down with Russian apple pie. More stodgy than the American version, but good nevertheless.

  At two o’clock Noah and I come down the steps and a grey Audi drives up and stops in front of us. Noah opens the back door for me and I get in. He closes the door and sits in the front passenger seat.

  ‘Can we stop at Harvey Nichols for like an hour? I need to buy something,’ I tell Noah.

  He nods and gives the driver his instructions in Russian. Twenty minutes later the driver drops us off outside the department store and Noah and I enter it. We take the lift to the men’s department. When we get there I ask a sales assistant where I can find leather jackets to fit Noah.

  Noah frowns. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘We’re getting you a brown leather jacket.’

  ‘Me?’ he asks, jerking his head back in surprise.

  ‘Yeah, you.’

  He narrows his eyes suspiciously. ‘Why?’

  ‘I know you’re part of Zane’s bodyguard/security personnel, but you don’t have to look like one all the time.’

  Noah scratches the back of his neck in a touchingly bewildered way, and I take the opportunity to grab his huge forearm and start walking him towards the area the woman pointed out to us. Once there I ask another assistant to show us some brown leather jackets for Noah. While she runs a practiced eye over him he clears his throat uncomfortably.

  While she goes to find a selection of jackets, I receive a text. It’s a blast from the past.

  How’s it going? xx

  For a fraction of an instant I hesitate. Then I text him a reply back. One that tells him exactly where he is in my life.

  Great. Thanks for a being my friend. I really appreciate it. X

  Mark’s reply is instant and a bit intriguing.

  I’m the best friend you have at the moment. Don’t forget that. No matter what happens you can rely on me. xx

  But the sales lady comes back with four different styles for Noah to try on so I just send Mark some kisses and a hug.

  ‘Go on, then. Try them on,’ I urge, putting my mobile back into my bag.

  Noah takes the jackets from her, looks at the price tag of the first one, and recoils so drastically it is comical. ‘Fucking hell,’ he says with a horrified expression. ‘This thing is nearly two thousand pounds. Who’s going to pay for it?’

  ‘I am.’ I watch his eyes bulge with surprise and amend my statement. ‘Well, Zane is. He gave me a credit card and presumably that means I can buy whatever I want with it, right?’

  He rubs his jaw. ‘Yes, but … you’re supposed to buy pretty things for yourself.’

  ‘I don’t remember him making any such stipulation.’

  ‘I’ll have to check this with the boss first,’ he says holding the jacket at arms length.

  I fold my hands. ‘I don’t care what you do, but you’re not coming with me to my workplace unless you are wearing something other than that thuggish black leather jacket you’ve got on.’

  ‘All right. I’ll take my jacket off and stand in my shirt.’

  ‘Absolutely not. I’m not standing here arguing with you. You’re buying a jacket or you’re not coming with me.’

  For a few seconds he looks at me with a stunned and confused face, then he takes off his jacket and tries on the first one.

  ‘There’s a mirror there,’ I say nodding to the wall behind him.

  I trail behind as he walks to it and stop when he does. I look at his reflection. ‘You like?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he says shyly. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I kinda like it, but it’s very similar to the one you already have. Let’s see what the other three look like before we decide, huh?’

  Meekly he takes it off and tries the next one.

  We hit eureka with the third jacket. Both the sales assistant and I agree, Noah looks gorgeous.

  ‘How is it possible you haven’t got a girlfriend, Noah?’ I tease.

  Big, strong, stoic Noah who wanted to body search me the first time he met me, flushes a deep shade of red.

  I give the sales assistant Noah’s old jacket to put into a carrier bag, and pay for the new jacket.

  ‘Thank you,’ he says gruffly.

  I smile at him. ‘Thank you for … protecting me.’

  ‘It’s my job.’

  Then we pop upstairs to the Food Hall for a box of cereal before we go back down to the ground floor where I wander into the handbag department. As I pick out a smart, black leather handbag, I see Noah checking his reflection out in a mirror. Smiling, I slip the bag into the crook of my elbow and look at Noah.

  ‘Do you think Olga will like this?’ />
  ‘Olga?’ he asks with surprise. ‘You’re buying that for Olga?’

  ‘Mmmm.’

  He looks at me with narrowed eyes. ‘Why?’

  ‘Why not? She’s always cooking for me and getting me coffee and stuff, and I’d like to get her something to say thank you.’

  ‘Oh,’ he says, looking at me as if I have just grown a second head.

  ‘So? Do you think she’ll like it?’

  He shrugs. ‘I’m not a woman. I wouldn’t know.’

  He looks so out of place in the perfumed, feminine environment that it makes me cheeky. ‘But would you fancy a woman who carried a bag like this though?’ I insist.

  At first he stares at me as if I am mental, but then he grins, his first real grin. ‘Are all American people like you?’

  ‘Some,’ I say, and sail towards the cashier.

  As I am paying I see Noah talking on his mobile. It must have been with the driver because by the time we get out of the doors the driver is already waiting. We get in and he drives us to my workplace.

  Noah waits at the corner where he can still see me go into the building but not close enough to be seen by anybody from my office. The girls are happy to see me and offer to make a pot of tea and open the biscuit tin. I know they want to have a little gossip, but conscious of Noah waiting outside, I tell them I am in a hurry. I drop off the read manuscripts and pick another massive pile of submissions and go back out to Noah.

  While we are in the car Molly calls to tell me that she will be around at about seven with new clothes for me. I look at Noah.

  ‘Is it OK for Molly to come around at seven today?’

  ‘As long as she is gone by ten. Boss wants you to be at the Matrix at eleven o’clock.’

  ‘That’s great. I’ll see you then,’ I say, and end the call.

  ‘What is the Matrix?’ I ask Noah.

  ‘A club,’ Noah says shortly.

  I suppress a sigh. ‘Does it belong to Zane?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  When we get back to the house Noah and I go into the kitchen. Olga is sitting flipping through the pages of a magazine and listening to Russian pop music playing in the background. She grins at us and makes the hand sign of drinking to me to ask if I want a coffee.

  I nod.

  Noah says something in Russian and she turns towards me with her eyebrows raised and an enquiring look in her eyes. I walk towards her and give her the Harvey Nichols carrier bag.

  ‘For you,’ I say, my finger wagging at her.

  She points at her own chest with her eyebrows raised.

  I nod and smile.

  She takes the shopping bag from me and opens it, looks inside then looks again in disbelief.

  ‘Go on take it out.’

  She takes the protective white cloth cover off, gasps at the handbag and looks up at Noah. He just raises his eyebrows as if to say, Don’t look at me. This has nada to do with me.

  I see her eyes drop to his jacket and she fires something to him in Russian and nods. She turns towards me. Her eyes are misty as she reaches out and rubs her rough palm on my forearm.

  I take my coffee and leave them. As soon as the door closes I hear Olga grilling Noah in earnest.

  Twenty

  Dahlia Fury

  Noah goes out into the street to help Molly bring in two rails of clothes on wheels and three cardboard boxes full of shoes, belts and handbags. For nearly two hours Molly stays with me while I try on all the stuff. I learn a lot from her.

  She encourages me into styles and shapes and colors that I have spent a lifetime saying no to. She puts me in stripes and matches it with polka dots. She teams orange with red and green with blue. She has even brought me that racy red miniskirt I saw at the back of the van to be worn with knee-high, black wedge boots.

  Talking of shoes I suddenly find I have ten fabulous pairs to add to my collection. There are ankle cuff pumps, ink blue leather boots, ballerina flats in geranium-pink glitter material; slip-on calf-skin sneakers, leopard print loafers, white lace-up sandals; pearlescent snakeskin, caged, peep-toe sandals; and strappy leather and raffia sling back platforms. Then Molly reaches into the cardboard box for the last item. With a great sense of drama she opens the shoebox while her hands are inside the cardboard box and slowly lifts her pièce de résistance dangling from her fingers into sight.

  ‘Oh. My. God!’ I shriek, my hands flying to my cheeks.

  It’s a pair of black crystal mesh stiletto Jimmy Choos. Not even in my wildest dreams have I ever dreamt of owning Jimmy Choos!

  She puts them on the floor in front of me. ‘These are from their private stock. I only got them because I know someone who knows someone.’

  I pick a shoe up and kiss it. ‘It’s so gorgeous. Was it very expensive?’ I whisper.

  ‘Could have paid off my mortgage with it,’ she whispers back, smiling.

  ‘Well, I might need you to get me another pair.’

  ‘One size smaller?’

  ‘Exactly,’ I agree with a grin that threatens to split my face.

  ‘Can I become your best friend too?’ she jokes.

  ‘Honey, I’ll demote my sister to best friend status and you can take her place.’

  We giggle like little girls.

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uLI6BnVh6w

  After Molly leaves I dress in a black fitted satin mini dress with a high halter neck, illusion-netting diamond cut-out front, and a low scoop back. I wear sheer black thigh-high stockings with lace elastic tops, and my brand new Jimmy Choos. My hair is loose and full of waves, my eyes are extra smoky, and my lips scarlet. Then I slip into a glamorous hooded cream coat with faux fur trim and silky lining. The feel of the silky lining on my bare arms makes a shiver go through me.

  Downstairs Noah raises his eyebrows but makes no comment. I’m used to it by now. He escorts me outside, opens the car door, and I slip in. Before he closes it he says suddenly, ‘The boss will like your outfit.’

  Before I can thank him, he’s closed the door and gone to sit in the front passenger seat. The Matrix is actually in the same building as Uncle Ho. There is a queue of people to the side of the building and they seem to be entering the club from a different place. The driver parks outside the restaurant entrance, Noah jumps out, opens the door for me, and escorts me towards the door. Yuri stands near it smoking a cigarette. He nods at us and says something to Noah in Russian.

  Noah answers and we get into the lift. He presses the necessary buttons and stands quietly with his hands clasped in front of him until we reach our destination, one floor below the restaurant. The doors open to a bustling kitchen. We walk through it, go through a swinging door, and enter the club.

  The club is very dark and futuristic. The walls are black with downward flowing digital green rain-like graphics featured in the Matrix movie series. We skirt the edges of a dance floor with a similar green code flashing under it and get to a sectioned off area marked VIP.

  I see Zane sitting at a round black banquette. His legs are spread wide and he looks relaxed and totally in control of his environment. No matter how much I don’t want it to, my heart does a little excited flip at the sight of him. He is on the phone. He raises a finger and Noah makes a stopping gesture with his palm to me. We wait until he gets off the phone and I am seething with resentment before Noah tells me to move forward. I do, until I’m standing in front of Zane.

  ‘There you are,’ I say coldly.

  In the darkness of that club Zane’s eyes glow as they move down my body. He slides his arms along the back of the banquette and says, ‘Take off your coat.’

  I shrug out of my coat casually as if I wanted to and was not responding to his instruction. He smiles, slow, sexy, possessive, admiring, tigerish.

  ‘Have a seat,’ he invites, tipping his head slightly to the right of him. I sit where he has indicated.

  ‘Want a White Russian?’ he asks, brushing his finger on the bare skin of my back.

  I feel goose pimple
s rise up on my skin. Here our worlds meet. Always. ‘No, thanks. I think I had my fill of White Russian yesterday,’ I say coldly.

  His eyes flash. ‘So what’ll it be today?’

  ‘Perhaps a cosmopolitan.’

  He makes a quick fan-like gesture with his fingers and a black clad waiter with a round silver tray materializes before us.

  ‘Same again and one cosmopolitan,’ he says to him before turning to me. ‘I heard you spent the afternoon bribing my staff.’

  ‘I wasn’t bribing them. I was showing my appreciation for their services,’ I explain serenely.

  He smiles. ‘How strange. When I start buying people expensive presents it’s always deemed as bribery and corruption.’

  ‘Well, not knowing all the facts I can’t comment on your situation.’ My tone is even and nonchalant. If I can just keep this up.

  ‘I’ve increased the limit on your card by the way.’

  My eyebrows rise. ‘Does this mean every time I spend more you’re just going to keep increasing my limit?’

  ‘When it gets outrageous I’ll let you know.’

  ‘What do you consider outrageous?’

  ‘Get there and I’ll tell you.’

  ‘No, seriously. I’ve never been someone’s sex toy before so I have no idea what would be considered going over the top. What’s a sex toy worth in today’s market?’

  He has been indulgent and amused until now. Now, I see a tightening of his lips. ‘You should learn to quit while you’re ahead, rybka,’ he advises.

  ‘Rybka? You keep calling me that. What does it mean?’

  He lets his hand brush my nape. His fingers are warm and distracting. ‘It’s a Russian endearment. It means little fish.’

  I crinkle my nose. ‘Calling someone a smelly old fish is an endearment in Russia?’

  ‘I said little fish. Not dead fish.’

  Our drinks arrive and he lifts his glass. ‘To my rybka,’ he says.

  ‘Hang on one second.’ I take out my phone and Google Russian translations. I find the word I am looking for, put my phone down, and raise my glass. ‘To my zaika,’ I say.

  He half grins. ‘That means bunny.’

  ‘I know,’ I say coolly. ‘It was a toss up between bunny and little mouse.’