“My father isn’t the same man since my mother died. My choices, they were given to me by her. He took them away. After the three parties, he told me that he indulged me quite enough, and that I would choose the one he wanted me to. My mother wasn’t around to coddle me anymore, and this was a tumultuous time in the organization, so he would be choosing for me,” she explains. “I had already been with Mika. I knew immediately that he was it.”
I suck in a breath at her words, feeling her sadness consume me. She’s in a situation that I can’t even imagine. I do know what it’s like to be with someone but want another man.
Though my situation was vastly different, that doesn’t mean that I can’t understand hers. I do. Wanting someone, wanting a different life while being forced to live one you despise—oh, yeah. I completely understand that.
“You’re playing with fire, so do not get caught,” Emiliya whispers as we walk up the stairs to the second floor of the house.
I glance behind me, and though a few people are looking around, there are hardly any men at all in the room. I know they must be somewhere else for their meeting. We continue walking down the hall and then walk into a bedroom. Mika is standing with his back to the door, looking out the window into the dark.
“Mika,” Oksana whispers as she steps into the room, away from us.
Mika doesn’t move a muscle, and Emiliya closes the door just as I hear Oksana’s voice mumbling something.
“We’ll hang around until they’re finished,” Emiliya whispers as we walk down the hall.
There’s a window, and the entire hallway is dark, so it is just the two of us and the grounds below us.
“Have you ever wished to be someone else, living somewhere else?” I ask.
“There was a long period in my life where I wished it every single day,” she admits with a nod.
“Me too. What happened?” I ask.
“I fell in love with my husband, and I realized that all the bad things, all of the trauma, and every single thing I went through led me to that man, and led me to his love, which was not something he easily handed to me.”
“Why is this life, this Bratva life, so hard? I know the horrors that Ashley has been through, and I can assume that she’s not the only one who has been through those things,” I mutter.
Emiliya doesn’t turn away from the window, it’s as if she goes somewhere else completely before she turns to face me.
“It’s a hard life, but it’s a good life. It makes all of us appreciate every single breath we take. I love my husband, and my children, and I would choose no other path to take to get me where I am today. This life makes us strong for our men, strong for our children, and strong for our damn selves,” she says with tears in her eyes.
“I—I’m sorry, I just…”
“No, don’t be sorry. I’m not. Ashley isn’t sorry. Haleigh and Tatyana aren’t sorry, and neither is Inessa. We’ve all gone through some kind of hell, and I can see in your eyes that you have, too. Going through that, are you more appreciative of the man you call your husband now? Of the way he protects you, of the life he gives you? I know that I am,” she says, giving me a small smile.
I’m just as mesmerized by the blue fire in her eyes as I am the fierce, strong, expression she wears.
“I am very appreciative of him. I love him,” I admit aloud for the first time—ever.
“Make sure you tell him that,” she winks as the bedroom door opens and a disheveled looking Oksana stumbles out.
“Sana, you’re a mess,” Emiliya giggles as she walks toward her.
The three of us slip into the bathroom and readjust, fix, and clean off the smudges from Oksana’s face.
“It was worth it,” she whispers dreamily as we clean her up.
“It can’t happen again. If he finds out, you’re both dead,” Emiliya says sternly.
“I know,” Oksana whispers as her eyes fill with tears.
My heart breaks for her. Here she thought she could pick the man she wanted. She willingly met with several and made her decision, but it was ripped from her. It’s so tragic.
This life, it’s that way, nobody has any choices about their own lives. Every move you make is completely dictated to you, unless you have enough power to change it. Even then, sometimes you have to connive to get what you want.
We all walk back downstairs together and back to the group of women, all who give some kind of curious or knowing glance to Oksana. None of us speak a word about what just happened, and soon the men start to fill the room, their meeting obviously adjourned. I watch, my mouth dry, as Ziven walks toward us in his suit, the rest of the husbands flanking him, all of them looking absolutely to die for.
“Attention,” Pasha calls out as Ziven wraps his hand around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.
I slip my arm around his waist and curl in closer to him. He gently rubs my shoulder with his thumb and it sends a chill over my entire body. I still want him. Even though it hasn’t been that long since he was inside of me, I want more—I always want more.
“Tonight is very special, as I am announcing the engagement of my one and only daughter, Oksana. Her mother, Sonia, and I didn’t have either of our children contracted at young ages; we wanted them to find matches of their own. I’m very pleased that Oksana has decided on a man in the Bratva, Gavril Zima, to be her intended,” Pasha says with a big smile.
I watch as Gavril wraps his hand around Oksana’s back, and together they walk up to where Pasha has made his announcement. Gavril sinks down to one knee and looks up at Oksana before muttering something to her. She nods with a fake smile plastered on her face, and he slips a ring on her finger before he stands. Then he cups her cheek and presses his lips to hers in a short, closed mouth kiss. The room erupts in applause. Oksana looks pale and sick, but she smiles and plays her part perfectly.
“Poor Mika,” Ashley whispers.
“Are you doing okay?” Inessa asks Ashley. I look at them with confusion.
“I’m trying not to judge him, or fear him, based off of the actions of his brother,” Ashley whispers.
“His brother?” I ask, blurting out the question before even thinking. Ziven squeezes my waist in a warning, and I instantly feel horrible for asking. “I’m sorry. I’m being nosey.”
“No, it’s okay. You already know the entire story. Gregori was Gavril’s brother.”
I gasp at the knowledge. Ashley was abused—greatly, deeply, and much harsher than I ever was—by a man named Gregori. I blink and look back to Gavril, and then back to Ashley, shocked that that awful, disgusting man’s brother is going to marry Oksana. No wonder she seems scared of the union. I would be terrified.
“I don’t understand how,” I whisper.
“None of us do. He was a choice, and she was trying to keep an open mind for her mother, but none of us understand why Pasha is forcing it,” she whispers.
“You think that there is a reason?” I ask.
“No way would he allow her this much time to have a choice, then when it comes down to it, take it away for no seemingly good reason. He gave her choices and then ripped them away, there’s a good reason for it all,” Haleigh murmurs.
“Quiet, golubushka,” Maxim rumbles.
“There’s a reason,” she mutters before he narrows his eyes on her. He looks terrifying, but she just smiles up at him.
“Time to eat,” Ziven grunts beside me.
I lean against the wall, hidden in the shadows, as I watch that piece of shit, Gavril Zima, smugly slip a ring onto Oksana’s finger.
Fuck him, fuck Pasha, and if I hadn’t just fucked Oksana—had she not told me that she’s completely miserable—I would say fuck her, too.
“You doing all right?” Dominik Markov asks me as he takes a drink of vodka from his highball.
“Fuck, no,” I chuckle humorlessly.
“Not her fault. Not something she chose,” he says, as if I need a goddamn reminder.
“Yeah, I know,” I grunt.
�
��Maybe there’s a reason for it all, huh? Maybe your reason just hasn’t been found yet,” he murmurs.
“You mean my Inessa?” I ask, inquiring about his wife.
“Yeah. Took me a long fucking time to find my Inessa. Had I married Larisa, I would have never found her,” he says, referring to the woman he was contracted to. He put off marrying for years because he couldn’t stand her.
I don’t say anything else to him. Eventually, he claps his hand on my shoulder and walks away from me, back to his beautiful wife, the one he found and wanted. Too bad his scenario doesn’t work for me. There is nobody else. Only Oksana.
When I met Ashley Chekova, I fell hard for her. She was battered and broken, and I couldn’t help but want to fix her. She left me, though; went running back to the man who broke her.
At the time, I was angry. I didn’t understand it. I do now. When your heart is involved, you’ll do stupid fucking shit. Like, fuck the woman you love in her father’s house, with her fiancé downstairs.
Yeah, stupid fucking shit like that.
The sane part of me—the part of me that wants to continue to climb the ranks in the Bratva—that part of me is warning me to stay away from Oksana Vetrova.
However, the part of me—mainly my cock and my heart—that wants her, it’s screaming at me to do something incredibly stupid and drastic.
My eyes skirt down her body, and my dick presses against my zipper.
I know my answer.
Desperate times call for drastic measures.
The rest of the evening we spend eating, drinking, and talking. By the time we’re ready to leave, I feel so much closer to all of these women. My fears of their judgments and their animosity toward me were completely silly and unjustified. They are all beautiful, inside and out.
“Don’t forget—dinner, tomorrow night,” Ashley calls out as we say our goodbyes.
“We’ll be there,” Ziven grins. “Did you have a nice night?” he asks as we gather our coats.
“I did. It was great, actually,” I say with a nod.
“Good. Let’s go back to the room, then.”
The hotel’s driver is waiting for us at the end of the driveway. Sliding into the backseat, I’m glad that I’m able to sit. The first thing I do is discard my high heels. They’re beautiful, but they kill my feet.
“Feet hurt?” Ziven chuckles as I pick my shoes up and set them in my lap.
“Killing me,” I whisper, laying my head on his shoulder.
I don’t know when, but I must fall asleep on his shoulder. What seems like a second later, I’m being shuffled around, and I wake up suspended in his arms as he walks into our hotel room. He doesn’t turn the lights on, and we don’t speak as he carries me into the bedroom of the suite and sets me down on the floor. My shoes, which were nestled in my lap, fall to the ground, but neither of us attempt to bend down and pick them up.
Ziven slides my wrap off, letting it fall to the floor, before he reaches behind me and unzips my dress. It falls in a heap onto the floor, and he takes my hand as I step completely out of it. Our eyes stay connected the entire time. I’m unable to break our gaze. Something is keeping me exactly where I am.
Reaching out, I unbutton his shirt before slipping it down his arms. I reach for the hem of his undershirt and lift it from his torso letting it fall to the floor, leaving his chest bare for me.
I lean over and press my lips to his warm chest, and I feel him rumble beneath my lips. Then I slowly unbuckle his belt, before I unbutton and unzip his slacks, letting them fall to the floor. Ziven takes a step back, toes out of his shoes and socks, and slides his boxer briefs off as well.
The silence between us is more than I’m used to, but I’m enjoying it. Although, I’m about to break it. I can only hope that what I say to him is going to be well received. Before I utter a word, I take my strapless bra off, and then my panties.
I close the distance between us and press my chest against his, tipping my head back and looking deep into his eyes. His face is hard, his jaw is clenched, and he looks slightly confused and a lot turned on.
“Ziven Dorosh, I love you,” I whisper, looking into his eyes.
He doesn’t say it back. Instead, he looks into my face, searching it, before he grins.
“I loved you the moment I saw you, with your red hair and brown eyes. Fuck, I thought you were the most gorgeous creature I’d ever seen in my life. Then, when you stripped all of that away, when your natural blonde hair and green eyes appeared, swear to Christ, I fell in love all over again. Even the snarl you gave me when you realized who I was, those claws that you dug in every chance you got, I’ve always loved you, my katyonak.”
Tears pool in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. I don’t make a move to wipe them away. I’m too mesmerized, too blown away by his words to move a muscle. He’s loved me, loved me, for so long, and I was so awful to him.
“Stop thinking about the past,” he whispers, cupping my cheek and wiping the wetness from underneath my eye with his thumb.
“How can I?” I ask.
“Simple,” he smiles. “Think about the future. Think about the life we’re going to have in Denver. Think about how many babies you want with me; think about how big of a house you want, and where.”
“I don’t care,” I rasp. He looks at me with confusion, and I clear my throat before I continue. “I don’t care how many babies we have; I’ll have as many as you want. I don’t care what our house looks like, or where it is, I’ll live in a shack if it means I’ll have you. So, I don’t care, Ziven. All that matters is that you love me.”
I smash my lips against his before I thrust my tongue into his mouth and taste him. He tastes exactly as he always has; except now, I know that he loves me. He isn’t my husband for any other reason than the fact that he loves me. Even if getting married when we did was for my protection, it was also because he loves me.
Ziven twists his fingers in my hair and slants my head, taking over our kiss as he thrusts his tongue in my mouth. I feel his cock harden against my belly, and my legs shake with anticipation. His other hand grabs a hold of my ass with a rough squeeze as he starts to walk me back, until the backs of my knees hit the bed.
Ziven releases his hold on me, and I sit down before moving to lie down. He doesn’t wait for me to open my legs. He hooks his arms behind my knees and lifts me until I’m almost bent in half, and then he surges deep inside of me.
“Ven,” I gasp.
“Tell me again. Tell me while I fuck you,” he grunts as he starts to pound inside of me hard and fast.
“I love you,” I rasp.
“Christ, say it again, katyonak. My cock inside of you, my ring on your finger, you with my name. Fucking hell, tell me again,” he rumbles.
“I love you, Ziven Dororsh,” I cry out as he slams his hips against me so hard, I know that I’m going to be sore for a week. I don’t even care. I’m relishing the pain.
“Fucking right, you love me,” he growls.
Ziven doesn’t stop moving inside of me with long, hard, fast, punishing strokes, and all I can do is watch his beautiful face while he does it, the moonlight shining on us and illuminating his features.
I reach between us, knowing I’m close, but also knowing that I’m going to need a bit of a push to make me topple over that edge.
“Come, katyonak,” he whispers as sweat gathers on his forehead.
I touch myself, and it only takes a few strokes of my fingers to bring my climax to the surface. Arching my back, I throw my head against the bed and moan with my release.
Ziven doesn’t stop driving his cock inside of me, his own release close, as well. I can feel his hectic strokes, uneven and unhinged. When he plants himself deep inside of me with a long, rumbling groan, I know that he’s finally there.
“Fuck,” he exhales as he releases my legs and buries his face in my neck.
“I love you,” I whisper wrapping my legs around his waist and squeezing him close.
“I lo
ve you, Quinn Dorosha” he murmurs against the side of my neck.
We walk into Yakov and Ashley’s fancy house. It’s decorated perfectly, and yet, it feels very homely. The rounded doors are unique, and I wonder if they’re this way throughout the entire home. I don’t get the opportunity to ask as Ashley comes bursting through the living room with Yurik in her arms and a smile on her face.
“I’m so excited you guys came,” she almost squeals with delight. I can’t help but to smile myself.
Ashley used to be so timid, so scared, and so fucking shy. She was practically scared of her own shadow. I worried over her constantly. Then when Yakov came back to Los Angeles and swept her away to New York again, I worried over her even more. I didn’t want the bastard to wreck her again, not when she was beginning to show signs of life, signs of living.
“He’s getting so big, already,” Quinn murmurs, taking a step forward to touch Yurik, as if she hadn’t just seen him a few days ago. “I guess, I didn’t realize at the restaurant how big he really is.”
“He is. He eats constantly. Do you want to hold him?” Ashley asks her.
“I’ve never, I’ve never held a baby before,” Quinn admits on a whisper.
“Come on over to the couch, you can sit and hold him. I promise you won’t break him,” she giggles.
“Come outside, we’ll talk,” Yakov grunts.
I lift my chin in response but my eyes are focused on Quinn. Specifically, they’re focused on Quinn holding a baby. It’s the most beautiful sight in the whole fucking world.
Instantly, I imagine it’s our child nestled in her arms, and my heart jumps inside of my chest. I walk away, visions of Quinn and a future child filling my mind.
“He is such a good baby,” I whisper, looking down at little Yurik.
“He’s quiet like me when he’s not hungry. Demanding like his father when he wants my attention,” she sighs.
I can tell she’s not complaining, not in the slightest. It’s as though him being demanding isn’t the least bit of an inconvenience.
“How do you live each day, knowing that Yakov is in such a dangerous line of work?” I ask, chewing on my bottom lip.
Protected by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 6) Page 15