Cruel Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  I sigh and pick up the book, caving completely. I brought this on myself, to be honest. I read to him every night when he and Sofia first moved in. Once my mission took over, those nights became fewer and farther apart. Sofia took up the task, but Russian fairy tales just don’t sound as good in her soft, Italian accent.

  Lucian stares back at me, eager and hopeful.

  “Okay,” I say, flipping it open. “Just a few pages...”

  He grins and hops up the bed to sit beside me. I extend my arm out of habit and he settles beneath it with his eyes forward on the old, graying pages.

  I flip through the book until I find my favorite story from when I was his age.

  “V kakom-to tsarstve,” I begin, “v nekotorom gosudarstve, tsar' zhil...”

  He slides his hand to rest in mine and I pause. Nine months with this child and I’m still not used to the way my heart bleeds for him. So small and fragile in my thick fingers but he’ll surely grow up to be just as strong as me. I smell the top of his head and smile.

  “U etogo tsarya bylo tri syna, vse oni byli na vozraste. Tol'ko mat' ikh vdrug unos Kosh Bessmertnyy—”

  The bedroom door swings open and Sofia steps inside. Her expression instantly twists from panic to annoyed relief. “Lucian, non dovresti svegliare tuo padre—”

  “It’s all right, Sofia,” I say, holding up a hand to stop her from scolding him for waking me.

  She takes a breath, quickly blowing it out again as she admires the two of us. Poor thing must have been searching for him for ages and he’s become quite the master at hide and seek, or so I’ve heard.

  Like mother, like son.

  I look her up and down as she relaxes. My darling Sofia. A Russian resident for nearly a year but she still clings to those bright sundresses. Just as beautiful today as she was the day of our wedding. Hell, even the day of her first wedding — the one we rarely talk about. I think of it often, though. It was the day after we conceived our son.

  I close the book. “Aren’t we supposed to speak English in the morning?” I tease.

  She steps closer to the bed and places her hands on her hips. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

  I glance at the darkened curtains. “Oh.”

  “And am I to believe that you were translating those stories into English?” she quips. “We speak Russian in the evenings, yes?”

  “Uh-oh.” I wince playfully and bounce Lucian once, making him chuckle. “She caught us, boy. Go beg her forgiveness.”

  Lucian slides away and hops down onto the floor. Sofia’s little eyes shift between us as her smile grows. Lucian pauses in front of her, reaching out to grip the edge of her dress.

  “Perdonami, Mamma,” he says.

  I smirk. He even did it in Italian.

  Sofia sighs and bends down to poke the tip of his nose. “I forgive you, piccola luce,” she says. As she stands back up, she looks at me. “And?”

  I frown. “And what?”

  For a brief second, her eyes twitch down to my bare chest. “Aren’t you going to beg me forgiveness, too?”

  I clear my throat, shaking off the last bit of tiredness from my system. I place my feet on the floor and stand up before making my way around the bed toward them. My wife and my son. The family I was never meant to have but will do anything in my power to keep.

  “I’m sorry, Sofia,” I say. I place a gentle hand beneath her chin to tilt her upward and kiss her cheek.

  “In Italiano,” she says.

  “Mi dispiace.”

  Her brow arches. “Na russkom.”

  In Russian.

  My heart pounds blood toward every crevice of my body. “Lucian...” I say, staring into Sofia’s eyes. “Go find your grandmother. Ask her to finish the story for you.”

  He moves quickly, pumping his little legs toward the hallway with his book clenched tightly in his grip.

  “And close the door...” I say. “I have to teach your mother a little Russian.”

  Sofia’s chest heaves, softly quivering as she exhales through her parted lips.

  Lucian does as he’s told and reaches up on his tippy toes to pull the door closed behind him.

  As soon as it latches, I pull her in for a deep kiss. Sofia wraps her arms around me and her legs do the same as I pick her up off the floor.

  “Prosti, Sofia,” I say.

  She moans against my lips. “I forgive you, Luka.”

  I twist to the bed and fall forward to drop us onto it. She cradles my waist with her wide-open knees, pulling me in as she slides a warm hand into my slacks. My hands roam up her thighs, pushing her dress up to find the thin strap of her panties beneath it.

  Her fingers hug my shaft, bringing it to life in her hand. “I’ve missed you,” she says.

  I kiss along her cheek toward her ear. “I know,” I say with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  She smiles up at me as she lays her other palm on my chest. Her fingertip flicks back and forth along the tattoo of my arm. “Did you get him?” she asks.

  I taste the sweet skin of her neck to block out the bloodshed flashing in my head. “Yes,” I answer.

  Sofia guides my tip inside of her and lets out a smooth moan as I take her with one, quick thrust. “Good,” she says.

  We grind together, our bodies surging with need.

  It’s been days since we’ve been together. Nearly a week of coming home too late to say goodnight and waking long after good morning but that’s what we signed up for when I committed to ridding the world of Snake Eyes.

  The master file. One name at a time crossed off with blood.

  I thought we’d lost them. They were easy to find for months but then, after the organization was exposed three months ago, that task turned far too difficult. They all scurried underground like rodents, coming up only for the bare necessities that can’t easily be avoided. The ones still hiding out in Russia are few and far, but with the help of Stefan Petrovin and his son, Nikita, we’ve managed to smoke out quite a few.

  Forty-two agents dead. So many left to go. Except one, of course. He earned his right to keep his life when he saved Sofia’s.

  “Luka...” She cups my face and kisses me. “Why did you stop?”

  I stare at her gorgeous face. I feel her inner muscles vibrating around me, urging me to take her to the end, but I give over to the moment.

  My lips brush against hers. “You’re so beautiful, lyubov' moya,” I whisper.

  She caresses my cheek. “Is that all?”

  I chuckle and turn my head to kiss her palm. “No.”

  Her eyes narrow. “What’s wrong, Luka?”

  My gaze wanders away to scan the walls around us. A year ago, my life was very different. Unrecognizable. I was the head of my family’s security. It was my job to keep them safe at any cost. Now, I entrust others to do what I failed to do.

  I didn’t live in the master suite on the top floor either. My mother insisted that Sofia and I move in here after our wedding. We needed the privacy and the extra space to raise a growing child, or so she claimed.

  If you ask me, she was too heartbroken to be here after what happened to my father. I don’t blame her. My mother is the strongest woman I’ve ever met but even I can see the pain behind her smile when she looks into my son’s eyes. He will grow up without knowing his grandfather, but I’ll make sure he knows the name Nikolai Lutrova.

  Sofia kisses me, instantly drawing me back to her. While I acknowledge the pain that’s wrecked my family, I can’t forget the hope we’ve brought to her. In the simplest terms, Sofia grew up a slave to the Zappia crime family. Raised to obey the middle son, Giovani, and breed the next generation — whether she wanted to or not. She took it upon herself to make sure that never happened and vowed to bring them down. In the end, she succeeded, but not without great personal cost.

  The Zappia family still thrives in America but their reputation is in shambles everywhere else. Their assets have been destroyed, not just by me and Yuri, but by our former rivals, th
e Petrovin family. Decades of hatred brought to a stand-still by a single common enemy. Our alliance has made Russia more powerful than ever and brought Italy to its knees.

  Sofia sleeps soundly at night knowing that she’s lying safely beside me and not her ex-husband. She accepts my touch knowing that it’ll never be used to bring her harm.

  But, every so often, she’ll twitch awake in my arms with her fearful pulse slamming rapidly against her ribs.

  Gio Zappia is still out there somewhere.

  If I accomplish only one task in my life, it’ll be to find him and make him pay for everything he did to her and my son.

  I kiss her deeper as I sway my hips to take her again. Her lips curl and pleasure returns to her face. Soft noises spring from her throat. Her fingertips dig into my sides. My passions push me to the edge. My love. My beautiful, darling Sofia. The little girl in the garden shed with adventure in her eyes.

  Sofia’s back arches upward and I kiss her neck, tasting the subtle vibration in her throat as she moans through climax. She bites her lip, holding back her scream before I kiss her again. I laugh with her as I continue my thrust. I could stay inside of her forever. The thought is obviously tempting.

  “Sofia...” I whisper.

  Her satisfied eyes flutter open. “What?”

  “Just...” I grin. “Sofia.”

  She smiles and guides me onto my back. I let her move me, resting my hands on her thighs beneath her dress as she slides me back inside. Her mouth sags open and she places her palms on my chest to hold herself up. She rides me slowly with closed eyes and I buck my hips to meet hers, doubling the pleasure begging to erupt from me.

  “Luka...” She moans and beckons me to her.

  I push up to sit. I touch the sharp curves of her hips and the humps of her breasts. “Yes, lyubov’ moya?” I ask.

  She cups my face and rests her forehead on mine. “Ya tebya lyublyu,” she says.

  I love you.

  I clench, feeling climax take hold. She feels it and kisses me, offering her tongue to my parted lips. I taste her, gripping her body tightly as I come inside of her.

  My cell phone rings beside the bed. I ignore it in favor of resting against her breast. Her fingers run through my hair, softly trembling, as my throbbing shaft relaxes.

  “Do you need to get that?” she asks.

  I shake my head as it stops ringing. “Probably just Yuri.” I tilt my head up. “I’ll talk to him lat—”

  The ringing begins again.

  I look at it and groan with impatience as her smile grows.

  “Later,” I finish. “A man deserves ten minutes alone with his wife.”

  “Only ten?” she jokes as the ringing stops. “Is that all I get nowadays?”

  “Unfortunately,” I answer, burying my face in her breasts again. I kiss the peaks of her warm cleavage rising out of her dress, relishing in what I can of her for as long as possible. “But, someday soon, I’ll take you far away from here.”

  “Is that so?”

  “A nice, long vacation. Just the two of us.”

  “To the beach?” she asks, hopeful.

  I cringe. “Or a cabin in the mountains...”

  She raises a brow. “You’d lock your beautiful, Italian wife away in a cold, snowy dungeon?”

  “You’d force your poor, Russian husband to endure sunlight?”

  “We did not think this through, did we?”

  I chuckle. “No.”

  “Well...” She kisses my forehead. “I’m sure we can compromise. This would, technically, be our honeymoon.”

  “I am sorry, Sofia.” I stroke her cheek. “I should have given you a proper honeymoon by now.”

  She smiles, as she always does. “Luckily, my life isn’t all that bad. And there are more important things to—”

  My phone rings again and I groan with annoyance.

  Sofia shrugs. “See?”

  I let it ring and hold her a little closer. “This won’t last forever,” I say. “You have my word.”

  She eases off my lap and grabs the phone. “And you have my heart,” she says. “That will last forever.”

  I take the phone from her as my chest pumps warm blood through my fingertips. She walks across the room to the en suite and slides the door closed behind her, casually glancing over her shoulder at me before her loving face disappears.

  I take a calming breath before answering the phone. “Markov?” I say into it.

  “We found him.”

  I keep one eye on the bathroom door. “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Meet me downstairs.”

  I hang up and push off the bed.

  Chapter 8

  Fox

  Dani. My beautiful Dani.

  Even while she’s sleeping.

  We’ve been in this situation before. I’d hoped we’d never have to be ever again, but life has always found a way to screw me over from time-to-time.

  Last time, I did exactly what I’m doing now. I stood over her, silently watching her breath drift in and out, counting down the seconds until I had to walk out the door. She lies on her back with the blanket resting just beneath her shoulders. Milky white skin peeks out in the dark. Eyes and lips twitch slightly. I remember thinking that, no matter what happened, at least I got one perfect night with her. That made it harder to let her go but I had to do the right thing.

  Today is no different.

  I kneel by her side of the bed and I catch something shimmer in my peripheral vision. Her left hand lies on her stomach above the blanket.

  I smile and swallow the lump in my throat.

  My future wife. Maybe.

  I reach out to touch her, but I let my fingers linger above her skin just like before. Last time, I couldn’t bring myself to touch her and risk waking her up. I knew that if she did, I wouldn’t leave. I’d take one look into her eyes and she’d own me.

  But I can’t do that to her again. I can’t leave without saying goodbye.

  I drag my fingertip along her cheek, slowly traveling back toward her ear.

  She opens her eyes. They look wide and alert like she didn’t sleep at all. For a brief second, her lips slide upward as she looks at me. Content and angelic. That glowing light in the darkness she’s always been for me.

  “Hey,” I whisper.

  “Hey...” She looks at the clock by the bed and her expression shifts. Just after six in the morning. “You’re leaving,” she says.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  She sits up. “Without saying goodbye?”

  I sit down beside her. “No, I learned my lesson about that last time.”

  “Damn right, you did.”

  Dani lets out a small, quiet chuckle. It feels nice to hear her laugh one last time. I don’t know when I’ll hear it again — or if I’ll hear it again.

  Christ, what am I saying?

  I’m coming back.

  No matter what.

  Dani rests her hands on my sides. “I should go with you.”

  “No,” I whisper, leaning in for another hit of her sweet, apple smell.

  “Fox, I can’t just stay here.”

  “I know.” I release her hands to stand up.

  She watches with a furrowed brow as I walk over to the collage of photos hanging on the wall. I take hold of the largest one and pull it off, revealing the hidden wall safe about halfway up the wall. I turn the dial, locking in the code from muscle memory, and the safe clicks open.

  “Fox?”

  I reach inside for the black canvas bag inside. When I turn, Dani’s already off the bed with her tank top on, stepping into a pair of shorts.

  I set the bag on the bed, quickly zipping it open to get what’s inside. Dani crosses her arms as I pull out several stacks of cash, a few burner cellphones, and fake passports.

  “It’s called a Code Zero kit,” I say. “In Snake Eyes, I mean.”

  “What does that mean?” she asks.

  “We all had one. If anything were to go wrong on a mi
ssion or we’d lost contact with HQ, we’d go into hiding and await further instruction.”

  I pick up the stack of passports and flip open the first one. Mine. I slide it into my pocket. The second one is for Boxcar. The third, Caleb.

  “When did you have all of this made, Fox?” she asks, her voice whispered and broken.

  “Just after we came back from Iowa,” I answer truthfully.

  “So, you’ve just been sitting around here, waiting for something like this to happen?”

  “I was prepared for something like this to happen, Dani,” I say. “I didn’t want it to happen.”

  She goes quiet.

  I put the fourth passport back in the bag, along with all the cash, a phone, and Dani’s fake ID. “After I leave, pack a bag,” I begin. “Take only what you need. Wear something neutral. Something that gets you lost in the crowd. Put on a hat and sunglasses. Don’t make eye contact with anybody.”

  She shakes her head. “Fox...”

  “Take the subway downtown,” I say. “Go to the impound lot on Olympic. Ask to speak to Pliskin. They’ll know what that means.”

  “Fox, hold on.”

  “They’ll give you a car. In the trunk, you’ll find extra license plates and a few other things. Then, get in and drive.”

  “Drive?” she asks. “Drive where?”

  I pause, taking a breath. “That’s up to you.”

  Dani takes a step back. “No...”

  “The less I know, the better. You’ll be safer that way.”

  “Fox, I can’t.”

  “You know what to do,” I say. “You’ve done it before.”

  “You’ve done it before. I was just there.”

  “But you remember what we did. Always take the longer route. Stop only to sleep and eat. Pay cash for everything.”

  “Fox—”

  “Pull off somewhere safe and change the plates every three-hundred miles. Trust your gut and do nothing to draw attention to yourself.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until I call,” I say. “I’m the only one with the number to that phone.”

  “What if you never call?” she whispers, holding back a sob.

  I bite down. “I will.”

  Dani drops her head, wagging it back and forth as tears fill her eyes again. “I can’t do this by myself, Fox.”