by V. F. Mason
Maybe that was life after death? Some old dude welcomed you and told you everything was over.
Could this be death? Was there an option to just cease to exist altogether? Because I would have signed up for it.
“Name’s Duncan. Do not move. Might bring pain to your neck and nose.” He pointed at the cloth. “Didn’t have anything better to help out with, although Marty found some expired antiseptic and we used it.”
Blinking a few times, fully accepting it was some kind of transition between life and death, I inquired, “Marty?”
He nodded. “My buddy, he’s out on the streets getting food.”
Food?
Why would anyone need food here?
“Who beat you up so roughly, kid? They didn't even leave your clothes on. Good thing Marty used to be a doctor. He made sure your nose was put back in place.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and added, “Was it some gang? No one likes homeless.” He patted my hand gently. “Don’t you worry. Marty and I will take care of you.”
Homeless.
A memory from the past associated with this word popped into my head.
Daddy trailed slowly behind us as Damian and I learned to ride our bikes. The weather was nice, a soft breeze cooling our heated cheeks as we laughed carelessly.
Suddenly, a man appeared, sitting in the middle of the street, hungrily eating food like he hadn't seen any for days. The dirt smeared around his hands made us stop, and Damian called out to Dad, “Daddy, why is this man eating here?”
Dad’s eyes narrowed and then gentled as he stood between us, both of his hands on our heads, patting softly. “The man had something bad happen to him, and now he is homeless.”
Frowning, I shared a look with my twin, and then I asked, “What’s homeless?”
“It means someone doesn’t have a home or money and needs to live on the street and get food from wherever he can.” Damian winced. He couldn't even stand it when something dirty touched his clothes, let alone food.
Tugging on Daddy’s shirt, I made him lean down, as I whispered in his ear, “I don’t want to be homeless, Daddy.”
He kissed me on the forehead, murmuring, “Not if I can help it.”
So it wasn't death after all. “How did I end up here?”
Duncan rested his chin on the lid of the cup, as his eyes went up, and he had this deep-thinking expression. “Some man dumped you here, and you were groaning in pain. Not the first time we saw something like this, but hey, you’re a kid. No one should hurt a kid,” he pointed out, and tears slid down my cheeks. As he wiped them away, he murmured, “There, there, don’t cry, kid. Me and Marty will help you out, you’ll see.” So the world wasn't an evil place where all men wanted to hurt children?
Could it be possible Tim took pity on me and decided to let me live?
Breathing the fresh air into my lungs for the first time in eight years, something akin to hope blossomed in my heart, and the future started to brighten up for me.
Being homeless was better than being someone else’s toy.
Rosa
The pilot, wearing a white shirt with an emblem of the Bratva on the pocket, tight black pants, along with a round hat, smiled at me in welcome, and called to Dominic, “Can I have a word with you?”
Dom stood up reluctantly, his gaze lingering on me, and then he spun around and disappeared into the cockpit, but not before muttering to Michael, “Watch her.”
Snorting, I toed off my shoes, because my legs were killing me. The man in question came into view. “So, Rosa… I don’t think we’ve had an opportunity to be introduced properly to each other before, huh?” Dropping onto the seat next to me, he wiggled his brows. “How about I rectify this small oversight now? I’m awesome.”
Resting my chin on my hand, I added, “And modest. Don’t forget that.”
He ran his index finger over his chin as a wistful expression settled on his face and then nodded. “Yes, definitely that too.” A sparkle of mischief played in his topaz-green eyes as he entwined his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. He had a lean body, muscled enough to give a good physique, yet not overly buffed. Michael laughed as I shook his hand. “And you are the pakhan’s woman.”
At this point, the smile died on my face, and it probably turned into a grimace. He exhaled an exaggerated breath and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, babe. I understand he has some tendencies, but that man is fiiiine.”
He prolonged the last word, and a growl came from the open door of the plane. “Angel.”
Blushing, he blew Vitya a kiss, who clearly got jealous when he described other men as handsome, and continued talking to me. “You gotta give him credit for being so patient with you.”
My jaw almost hit the floor. “In what universe should I freaking thank a man for dating me?”
He sucked on the straw of his vodka tonic and shrugged. “He isn’t just a man, sweetness. We both know he could have done this a month and a half ago, and you wouldn't have been able to do anything.”
Not wanting to see the truth in his logic, I argued, “So instead, he did it now, ruining any kind of relationship with my familia, and essentially, once again, taking me from my home and my aspirations of becoming a surgeon?” Just that angered me more, not so much the fact he got freaking tired of our high-school-like romance, but his total ignorance toward my desires pissed me off. “No offense, Michael, but I’m not really feeling that whole forgiveness thing right now.”
Playing with the lid of his glass, he asked after a moment, “What were you hoping for by dating him?”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
“Dominic is the pakhan of the Bratva who resides in Russia. As much as he can travel a lot, he still needs to be present at the main headquarters. You had all this information, yet you dated the man, hoping for what exactly? That he’d give up the mafia for you?”
Denial spilled from my lips before I could stop it. “No!” Licking my dry lips, I elaborated, “No one leaves the mafia once you enter this world. I know the rules.”
“Exactly. You know the rules. So how in the hell were you hoping to study in the States while your man had business in Russia? Hate to break it to you, babe, but an entire ocean separates the two countries.” His smug smile pissed me off.
“Trust me. I have quite a lot of knowledge about Russia.” And a bit of the language, but no one needed to know that.
“My point is the outcome would have been the same. You moving to Russia while he changed nothing about his life.” Holding my chin in this thumb and index finger, he said gently, “The question is… is he what you want? Is he the man you see yourself spending the rest of your life with? Because, Rosa? He’d never force. Not after what happened to him.”
My breath hitched at the reminder of what he had gone through during his years of captivity, and his reassurance of my safety in that regard.
Not that I ever doubted him, Dominic just couldn't be cruel with me.
Vitya shouted, interrupting our moment, “Come here, Michael. We are about to take off.”
Since we were so deep in our conversation, I hadn't noticed the cabin crew had prepared the plane for flying. Doors locked, window shutters up, drinks away and technical devices off, and finally, the stewardess helped me with my seat belt since my hands were tied. Michael winked at me from his seat, as Vitya wrapped his arm around him, and he rested his head in the crook of his arm.
Dominic was nowhere in sight, probably still handling business with the pilot. I looked back at my life, at all the choices it dealt me, and the events of the last few years, all while Michael’s curious voice echoed in my mind.
Question is… is he what you want?
Dominic
Patting Oleg on the shoulder, I couldn't be happier for his time of joy. “Congratulations, man. Expect an expensive gift from the Bratva.” His wife just gave birth to twin girls, and he was eager to return to Moscow.
“Thanks, Pakhan. Would you be the godfather for t
hem?” Tradition demanded that whenever the child was born in the family, the pakhan got dibs on godfathering if he wanted. However, while I believed in a higher power in this world, I didn't exactly consider myself religious, so I shook my head in refusal, and he nodded without further comment.
“Was that all?”
He bit his lower lip in hesitation, but then blurted, “I asked the bank for a loan, but they wouldn't give it to me. With two girls adding to our two boys, me and Oksana already have… we need a bigger house.” Fear marked his voice as his eyes measured my blank expression. Whenever I dealt with Bratva business, it stayed that way. No one could know about my real emotions, as they were weakness, and those could always be used against you.
“Bring this up to Yuri.” Yuri Radionov was our kaznachei, meaning he handled all the Bratva finances and business transactions. “He’ll give me a call.”
Oleg shook my hand with all his strength. Gratitude filled his voice. “Thank you so much, Pakhan.”
Dismissing it, I stood up when it was safe to remove the seat belts and walked toward the cabin, where Rosa held an iPad on her lap. Her head rose and her eyes hooded for a bit when she scanned them over my body.
“Who gave you that thing to play?” She pointed her finger at Michael, who scooted up on Vitya’s lap, sighing in pleasure. Those two probably shared the air they breathed, considering they never separated longer than an hour. “Enjoying?” Resting my arm on the wall, I crossed my legs. “Candy Crush sure is addictive.”
She ignored me, little shit. However, we had some important things to cover. “Rosa.” Nothing, her head still bent over the game as she somehow managed to move her fingers flawlessly on the device still tied up. So I tried again, this time steel coloring my voice. “Rosa.” Finally, she snapped her attention to me. “Why were you planning to go with Lorenzo to Italy?” I could barely say those words without breaking someone’s neck, which I probably did when I hit Dima so hard after he delivered the information. The poor guy fell to the ground.
Blinking a few times, a deep line formed when her eyebrows came together. “Italy?”
“Yes. Two tickets, first class.” Surprise flashed through her eyes. She opened her mouth, but then closed it and smirked.
Honest to God, she fucking smirked at me while I questioned her about another man!
“Well, the historical land called to me,” she said in singsong voice.
“Rosa.”
“What?” Her eyes widened in mock shock. “Is there more? Maybe we even had the chance to plan our honeymoon?”
The leash I put on my temper snapped, as I barked, “Don’t put yourself, Lorenzo, and the word honeymoon in the same sentence.”
“Whatever. I’m kind of busy, so could you shut up?”
My fists clenched, and I leaned to her ear, as the smell of roses and lavender washed over me and my eyes closed, enjoying it as it calmed the beast raging inside me to claim my woman when she joked so carelessly about another man. “Rosa, be careful.” Biting on her earlobe and then immediately soothing it with my tongue, it didn't escape my notice how her breath hitched and her heartbeat sped up.
With that, I went back to the bedroom to make an important call home, so they’d have everything arranged after our fourteen-hour flight.
Rosa
“Would you like something to drink?” the stewardess asked, straightening her black uniform, a tight smile on her face. She kept throwing disapproving glances toward Vitya and Michael who snuggled on the nearby chair, whispering into each other’s ears. Clearly, the woman didn't like man-on-man action.
Honestly, I was surprised with their display of affection, considering gays had no place in mafias, and they were usually punished for it, if they couldn't be discreet. However, it was evident to everyone how much they loved each other, and the romantic in me even envied them for it.
“No, thank you,” I replied, and rested my head on the window, dismissing her. She muttered something under her breath, and by the click of her heels, I knew she headed to the front of the cabin.
Gazing out the window at the bright blue sky with soft-as-cotton white clouds, I tried to focus my mind on anything but the sexy Russian mafia boss who currently sat opposite me. Without even looking at him, I was sure his whole attention was on me.
My hands were bound tight on my lap, so I didn't have anywhere to go even if I wanted.
And I didn't want it, because it made no sense.
The man kidnapped me and believed I belonged to him. No amount of reasoning would change his mind, so why waste the energy?
“This time for sure, you started a war,” I spoke softly, finally locking my eyes with his as my breath hitched. Amber pools were filled with desire and longing, and his fists clenched, probably from the inability to touch me.
Dominic shrugged, not caring in the least for the consequences of his decision.
Arrogant jerk.
Sexy, smoking hot, delicious, arrogant jerk.
The man exuded an aura of dominance and danger, and everything inside me wanted to submit to him and let him have his way with me.
His shoulder-length dark hair emphasized his amber eyes with long lashes and tanned skin. He didn’t have an empty place on his bulky figure. Various tattoos marked his skin and made me want to lick it and trace those markings with my tongue. The man filled me with images of white satin sheets and our bodies entwined with one another as sweat covered our skin.
Control, Rosa. Control.
I shifted uncomfortably on my seat, which didn't escape his notice, and a frown marred his face. “Are you all right?”
I wondered if he regretted the promise he had given me. Raising my hands, I wiggled my fingers, and asked, “Is this really necessary? Don’t know about you, but I wouldn't jump out of the plane. Even if it meant escaping your company.” His eyes narrowed, but he ignored my words and continued to sip his coffee. However, I was so freaking tired of him, my dad, and their war that I poked the bear when I probably shouldn't have. “I wish I were back in Italy though. Lorenzo sure is a more interesting man to talk to than you.” Sighing heavily, I added dramatically, “Too bad you snatched me right before our engagement.” The last part was a lie, because although Dad kept on pushing me toward him, he never mentioned a wedding as a sure thing. Not to mention, the guy in question was scared shitless of the pakhan of the Bratva. He wouldn't dare touch me.
“Oh, shit,” Michael murmured, as Vitya shook his head at me. I didn't have much time to study their reaction though, because in a second, the sound of a glass breaking penetrated my consciousness, and I shifted my focus back to Dominic and noticed the glass in his hand was broken as his eyes filled with fury.
“Enough.” In one swift move, he stood up, freed my hands, unfastened my seatbelt, picked me up, and darted to the secluded cabin at the end of the plane.
With all my might, I started to hit his back. “Let me go, you crazy man.” He slapped my ass, and I had to bite my lip not to moan in pleasure.
Because any touch from the man brought nothing but deep desire inside me.
Finally, he reached the room, opened it up, closed it with his foot, and immediately pressed me against the wall. We both breathed heavily as my legs circled his waist, and my fingers laced through his hair.
“You had to go and make me crazy.”
Leaning forward, I licked the seam of his lips, and he growled, opening his mouth and capturing mine with his.
The kiss curled my toes as our passion collided in a soul-searching duel. Our tongues entwined, and the press of his erection against my core made me whimper as he let go of me. “You allowed another man to touch what’s mine.” The steel didn't leave his eyes as he ripped open the front of my dress, giving him a perfect view of my lacy push-up bra that displayed my breasts quite nicely.
“I need to get you out of the clothes you wore for him,” he growled, and his words snapped me out of my frenzy.
As I tugged on his hair painfully, he finally rais
ed his eyes to me. “I wore them for you.” The amber of his eyes became almost black, probably from the possessiveness that overshadowed them.
His hands hiked my dress up, pushing my panties to the side, and then three of his fingers entered me as his lips latched onto my nipple. My head hit the door as pleasure and pain overpowered me.
How could I resist this man, pakhan or not, if he freaking played my body like a musician did an instrument?
“My pussy. Mine and no one else’s.”
Tangling my hand in his hair, I tugged on it with enough force for him to lift his head and connect our mouths together once again, but this time, owning his mouth, savoring the taste and groaning in pleasure. I whimpered when he took away his fingers, brought them to my lips, coated with my essence, and slowly licked it away as the tip of his tongue traced the outline of my lips. The touches sent jolts of electricity through my entire body. Wrapping my thighs tighter around him, I urged him to push his hard, clothed cock more firmly against me, as the sensations were unbearable, when a loud knock interrupted us.
“No, no!” I cried out, hugging him closer. Seriously, after this shitty day, I deserved an orgasm! We breathed heavily as he caressed my cheeks, and he barked to the door, “Unless someone is dying, you can go fuck yourself, Vitya.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t.” The voice held traces of worry and resignation, and we both paused. Then Dominic placed me on the floor until I could stand without wobbling, gave me a short peck on the lips, and ordered, “Stay here. Sleep. Rest. Do whatever you want. But don’t leave the room.” He took off his shirt and covered me with it. “Wear it. No one sees what belongs to me.” With that, he walked outside to discuss whatever problem arose.
Lying down on the bed, I studied the ceiling as a decision sank in. Dominic represented power, dominance, safety, protection—everything I could have ever wanted or wished for in a man. Being in a relationship with him would never be convenient, but with clarity, I understood he’d never let me go. He might never push me into sex, but I’d never be able to be rid of him.