by Brook Wilder
“You’re not feeling well, Stella. I think it’s time we take you home.”
As he starts to drag her away, I step in and snatch his wrist. I twist hard enough to make him wince, and he immediately lets go of his daughter’s arm.
“I’ll ask you to keep your hands off my wife,” I say quietly as I pin him with a glare.
Joseph glowers as he tugs on his wrist, but I don’t let go, not right away. His wife is standing a few yards behind him, face pale and looking like she’s expecting to be hit at any second. “She’s causing a scene. I was simply trying to calm her down.”
“I was not, you fucking piece of shit,” Stella snaps from behind me. “You started it.”
I glance back at her to find her cheeks flushed and looking furious. It’s not just her intense anger that catches me by surprise. I can smell the champagne on her. “Are you drunk?” I ask quietly, so only she can hear.
“So what if I am? I’m an adult. I think I can decide how much I want to drink.”
“Stella, really, this is highly inappropriate,” her mother chimes in, voice trembling.
That only sets Stella off. “Don’t you dare talk to me about what’s inappropriate, Mother. I’m calling it as I see it. This man doesn’t deserve any respect from anyone, least of all me.”
Joseph’s lip twitches and he takes a step like he’s about to go after his daughter. I block him, putting out my arm to keep him right where he is. “That’s enough, Joseph.”
“I would like a word with my daughter.”
“I don’t think she wants to speak with you,” I reply, cutting across Stella’s cursing. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to get some fresh air. Stella.”
She’s still watching Joseph as if daring him to try and grab her again. I smile at the people gathered around as they slowly disperse. Through them, I spot Mikhail and Nadia. My mother is whispering in his ear, and a few feet away from them are the twins. Everyone’s watching the show. No other wife acts like this in public. I’ll be hearing about this later, I have no doubt.
I slip my hand into Stella’s and pull her away from the crowd. She snatches up another glass of champagne on the way and drains half of it in one gulp. She finishes it off in another and tosses the crystal glass into the nearest trash can. We reach the back of the room and the hall that leads to the bathrooms.
“What are you thinking?” I snap. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea what kind of scene you’re causing in there?”
“I don’t give a shit,” she shouts, and I pull her further away from the ballroom until she yanks free of my grip. “Don’t handle me like that. You said you aren’t like them, but here you are acting just like them.”
“You are drunk.”
“And?”
“You can’t act like this in public, remember? That was the deal.”
“So, this is all my fault?” She storms away from me. I spin her back around and she shoves at my chest. “He’s trying to get dirt on you,” she hisses furiously. “He wants me to tell him everything I can about you so he can get to you. I told him to fuck off, and he started to remind me how I’m nothing but a whore for the families. Guess he’s right, huh? That’s all we are to you men. Objects to be passed around and used.”
My anger rises as tears slip from her eyes. She swipes them away but doesn’t stop glaring at me. “Stella, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“’Course not, because you don’t think to ask me before you blame me. I have to behave. I have to keep my mouth shut. It’s fucking bullshit, and you know it.”
I do, and I hate myself for thinking she would purposely pick a fight with her father in such a manner. I want to charge back in there and deck Joseph, but it’s not worth it. He’s going to be dead before the night’s over.
“Come here,” I tell her, but she doesn’t move. I go to her instead and wrap my arms securely around her. “You are not an object. You don’t belong to anyone but yourself. I’m sorry about Joseph, I am.”
She rests her forehead to my chest. “I thought I was rid of him, but now I realize he’s always going to be around. He’s always going to be hiding in the shadows waiting to beat me down like he did Mom.”
Placing my hands on her shoulders, I set her back so I can hold her gaze. “You listen to me, Stella. He is not your problem anymore. He’s mine, and only mine, understand me?”
She starts to nod, then stops. “Wait, Danya, are you saying … wait, no … I don’t understand.”
Dammit. I want to assure her that I’m not going to be the one to kill her father, but then someone’s talking into the microphone. “We’ll talk it over later. Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
“And remember what I said earlier?”
She hesitates, but nods.
“Good. Then don’t worry, all right? Everything’s going to be fine.”
Together, we return to the ballroom. She grabs another glass of champagne as we meander through the crowd. I have no idea how much she’s had and try to take it from her, but then the mayor is on the stage and the lights dim. I let it go, but I’m not about to leave Stella down here alone and wasted.
“Ah, if I can have everyone’s attention, please,” the mayor says and launches into his usual speech reserved for these events.
I want to get Stella out of here so Mikhail stops staring at her with that calculating look of his. Stella, however, has stopped walking and is focused on the mayor. He goes on and on for about five solid minutes. Then a projector screen is lowered behind him. That’s new, and I frown.
“Thanks to some students at Columbia, we have some entertainment tonight instead of me simply drawling on,” he says with a wink. There’s a scattering of polite laughter. “They’ve put together a short preview of a much larger documentary they’re working on as their final project and it’s something they say we all need to see. From what I’ve been told, it’s a more in-depth look at the dire situation of our city and the homeless within it. As those with power, we have the ability to change the world. So, let’s see what they have to say, shall we?”
I clap quietly with everyone else, but Stella’s gone pale. Very pale. I think she’s about to pass out when the movie begins. When the title appears on the screen, “Who Really Runs the City?”, she chokes on a mouthful of champagne and starts coughing. I try to ask her if she’s all right when the rest of the movie starts. There’s a guy talking over images of the streets of New York. I’m half listening when I catch sight of the Ivanov mansion, the Russo mansion, De Luca; they’re all highlighted. The more I watch, the more I feel the tension in the room rise as not only dealings with the mayor are mentioned, but the police chief and congressmen. This clearly has nothing to do with the homeless. The mayor starts yelling to turn the movie off. I grab Stella’s arm and drag her out of the ballroom toward the exit doors.
Just as we’re about to go through them, I lock gazes with Mikhail. His icy stare strikes me right to the core, but I give it right back. There’s no proof of who’s behind the movie though, from Stella’s reaction, I already know.
I hurry out after Stella and take her around the side of the hotel and the gardens in the back. Two of my men follow us out, and I motion for them to keep watch at the entrance to the path. Stella hasn’t said a word or tried to get away from me. She seems to be in shock. Once we’re at the end of the path where a gazebo resides with a small table at its center with a vase of flowers on it, she rushes up the three steps and madly paces around it.
“Stella, I’m going to ask you this one time,” I say as I follow. “Did you have any part in that documentary?”
She stops short and nearly topples over. There’s no answer, but that’s enough to tell me all I need to hear. I can tell the second she knows I know because she backs away, eyes wide and pleading. “Danya, just wait a second.”
Rage explodes inside me as I punch the nearest wooden post. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just don
e? You just put a goddamn target on your back.”
“My name is not anywhere in that movie. They’ll never know.”
“You’re kidding, right? They’re going to know there’s a traitor and after that spectacle you made of yourself tonight, it’s going to be you they point the finger at. You fucking lied right to my face, and I believed you.” I laugh harshly as I back away from her when she reaches for me. “And you call me the bad guy. All I asked for was your trust, and this is what you do?”
Her hands fall and then she shakes her head, eyes alight with her own rage. “What did you expect me to do after all these years? Keep playing the good daughter who lets her father beat her?”
“I expected you to trust me.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know you were the same guy I fell in love with?” she fires back. “You’re a killer now, Danya. You follow Mikhail’s orders and I … I love you, all right? I love you, and I didn’t want you anywhere near that damn project in case things went south.”
“They’re already going south,” I shout without even stopping to think about what I’m saying. “It’s not bad enough I have to worry about Mikhail changing his mind about you, someone else is following you.”
“Wait, what?” she asks.
“You’re being watched. I don’t know by who or for how long, but someone knows what you’ve been up to.” I run my hands through my hair as the stress from the last few days catches up to me. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through keeping you out of danger and then you go and basically send up a flare telling the families that you’re the one they’re after. Can you be any more reckless?”
“I didn’t know,” she replies, and some of the fight goes out of her voice. “Danya, I had no idea it would be played tonight or that I’d be anywhere near it.”
“You never think. That’s your problem.”
She says nothing and wraps her arms around herself. The strong façade she puts on for everyone else starts to slip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to wind up with you and me just … I wanted to make him hurt. I want to make them all hurt.”
We grew up so differently. I’m the eldest boy, meaning I’m the cherished member of my family. But Stella, she’s just a woman who is seen as an object, a prize to be given out. She’s never been given a fair chance to have her own life and do what she wants. She’s been beaten down, told she’s nothing, and when she finally gets up the courage to take control, I’m right there to shoot her down just like all the others. In trying to keep her safe, I’ve gone and hurt her all over again, and the night isn’t even over yet.
“They’re going to ask every member of the families about that documentary,” I tell her. “You are going to have to lie like you never have before, do you understand me?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
She shrugs and walks around the gazebo. “I thought I had it in me to keep fighting, but I’m tired of this shit, Danya. All I’ve done is cause you trouble. It’s all I do to everyone. I just want a way out, and maybe this is it.”
I’m at her side in a shot, pulling her to me. I kiss her fiercely, hating the despair filling her words. “No,” I growl against her lips. “Whatever gets thrown at us next, we face it together, and we beat it, you hear me? I am not losing you to them or anyone.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You trust me. You tell me everything, and I’ll do the same for you,” I say, realizing I’m going to have to come clean about what tonight is really about. I cup her face and wipe more tears away with my thumbs. “You are my heart, Stella. I’m not losing you, not again.”
She fists her hands in my tux jacket as she kisses me back. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”
I bite back my own apology then kiss her again, burying my hands in her hair as I back her up to the table. I need this woman, and I need her right now to reassure myself for the moment, at least, that we’re both alive. I pick her up and set her on the heavy metal table then kiss my way down her neck to the exposed flesh of her breasts. The guards at the end of the path will keep anyone else out of the gardens until I leave. I tug the fabric aside, grunting with want when a dusky nipple appears.
“Here?” she asks until I suck hard on that tender flesh.
She pushes my head closer as hers falls back with a moan. My other hand is busy shoving aside her skirts to find her sex. The moment I brush my fingers between her legs and feel her damp panties, I suck even harder on that nipple. She gets so damn wet so fast for me. My cock’s already hard and ready to go. Her hand reaches for me, rubbing me through the thin fabric of my pants. Then she’s working at the button and zipper.
Once I’m in her palm, my hips buck, and she starts to slide along my swollen length. My fingers rub vigorously against her bead and delicious wetness, but it’s not enough. I remove her hand and with some maneuvering, relieve her of her panties. I shove them in my pocket then thrust my tongue in her mouth at the same time my fingers find her sheath.
They glide in easily, and then she’s riding my hand as I swallow back her quiet cries of pleasure. Her nails dig into my arms through the jacket. If we were back at home, I’d tear the dress from her body. Sadly, we still have to get back to the ballroom at some point.
“I want you,” she whispers, then nips my lip. “Danya, please.”
“What do you want?” I ask in reply, letting my fingers slip free. She squirms on the table as my hands glide up her thighs, shoving her skirts further out of the way. “Tell me, Stella. What do you want?”
She wraps one hand around the back of my neck and stares into my eyes. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Gladly,” I growl.
The table doesn’t look sturdy enough for that type of activity. I pick her up, spin her around to face the railing, and bend her over. She spreads her legs and I run my cock along her sex. She shivers, and then I adjust the angle and pound inside her. She gasps, grinding back against me with each inward thrust. With one hand on her hip, my other wraps in her hair and gives it a tug. Her moan turns into a cry of passion that only urges me on faster and harder.
“You are mine,” I tell her as I slow the rhythm, but not the intensity. “You hear me? No one is going to take you from me. Not your father, not mine, not the rest of the damn world. You’re mine, Stella, and I’m yours.”
I thrust to the hilt again and she cries out, then quickly lowers her head to try and muffle the sound. I’m right behind her, shuddering with pleasure as her orgasm flows into mine. I keep myself buried deep within her as I draw her back into my arms. When I slip free, we both shiver, and then she turns around to face me.
“Can we go home now?” she asks. “I’m not sure how far I can walk after that.”
“Soon. We can soon.”
“Danya?” she asks as she looks up at me. “You’re my heart, too.”
I lift her chin and kiss her softly. We’ve been gone too long and need to get back inside before Mikhail comes looking, or Nadia, or anyone else I don’t want to deal with. That, and I only have about twenty minutes to get my ass upstairs. We adjust our clothes and are about to step out of the gazebo when my two men come rushing toward us. I shove Stella behind me at the stern looks on their faces. Both have their hands near their guns at their sides.
“What’s wrong?” I demand.
“You need to leave, now,” Greg, one of the guards, tells me with his finger pressed to the com in his ear. “Your brothers went early to the meeting. It was a trap. De Luca knew, and so did the other target. The whole damn plan was a setup from the beginning.”
Which means there’s a traitor in the family. I’d bet money Vlad had something to do with this mess. Fuck, probably the twins too. Why did they go early? “Shit, pull our men out. Now.”
“We’re working on an escape. Two are down, the rest are trying to get out. If you were up there, you’d be pinned down with the rest of them.” Greg holds up his finger, then removes the com from his ear
and places it in mine.
Familiar voices shout orders, then there’s gunfire. I hear it through the com and coming from the hotel. So much for keeping the mission quiet.
Stella grips my arm hard as she flinches with each sharp crack. “Danya, are those gunshots?”
I hand the com back as I wrap a protective arm around her shoulders. “You get our men out of here. Get the whole family out and to safety right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
As they sprint back to the hotel, panicked yells sound from inside the ballroom. It won’t be long before the cops are called, and the place turns into one massive shootout. I won’t risk Stella being caught up in the chaos. I guide her around the outside of the hotel. We don’t wait for the valet. I text Lukas, who is thankfully not one of the men upstairs. As people flood out of the hotel, a black sedan pulls up to the curb. I open the back door for Stella, and once she’s inside, slide in after her.