Drago (Dangerous Love Book 3)

by Kristin Alexander

  “Yeah, I mean, I think so, we haven’t really talked–”

  Drago’s strong hand cradle the back of my neck. “Katya.” He gave me a look that indicated his commitment should be obvious, and the doubts he read on my face were ludicrous. He turned to the others as he pulled me into his side and wrapped his arm around me.

  “Yes, Katya will be living here, with me, from now on, even after Yuri is dead and buried.”

  None of them appeared particularly surprised, but Anya looked a bit crestfallen, and I felt a pinch of guilt. I was relieved for the distraction of Hannah popping up and taking over breakfast making duties since I’d become sidetracked by the conversation.

  “So, Drago, can I please, please, please go to my apartment and pack my own things. I don’t love the idea of Boris and Will pawing through my underwear drawer.”

  He grimaced, and I could tell this tactic was working on him. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching my underwear, either. He pulled me to him, holding my jaw firmly with his rough fingers, his grey eyes intense. “Okay, but you stay with Will and Boris at all times. You are not to be out of their sight, do you understand?”

  I leaned up and kissed him. “Yes, I understand. I will be as quick as a bunny. Will and Boris will be with me at all times. If you want, I can facetime you the whole trip, and you can watch me. Although, I guess you don’t need to do that since you already have cameras installed,” I added tartly.

  “Good point,” he replied, looking reassured as he remembered he’d be able to monitor my visit to the apartment. He grabbed his phone and hit the screen. I looked at his phone and saw the inside of my living room.

  “God, you don’t feel any guilt about filming me, do you?” I asked, still somewhat aghast.

  “No.”

  Nikolai guffawed around a mouthful of scrambled eggs Hannah had just placed in front of him. “I told you.”

  Chapter 21

  Drago

  As I stood on the balcony smoking a cigarette, I looked down at Maxim’s message on my phone. I was meeting with Callahan in about an hour. I glanced at the kitchen where Anya and Katya were cleaning up after breakfast and making a fresh pot of coffee.

  I grinned, thinking back to Katya’s expression as she tried to drink the coffee I’d initially made. It tasted fine to me, but I guess I’d have to be more aware of things I’d only done for myself in the past. I had to think of her now, which was funny since it felt like I’d thought of nothing but her for years.

  Allowing her to go to her house without me made my skin itch, but the sooner I met with Callahan, the better. She’d be with Will, Boris, and Anya, so I needed to calm the fuck down.

  It annoyed me to question my instincts, instincts that had kept me alive for thirty years. Having a bad feeling was something I honored at all times. That feeling of disquiet had saved my life on more than one occasion. However, with Katya, I had a suspicion I would always feel some level of discomfort having her out of my sight, no matter the circumstances.

  I took a last drag off my cigarette, using the nicotine to soothe the acute uneasiness plaguing me. I would feel it until Yuri had a hole in his head and was tossed in the river.

  When I walked into the kitchen, Katya’s head popped up, and a sweet smile crossed her features. She looked so adorable wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of boxer briefs that hung on her slender frame. Her bright hair was up in a bun. My fist clenched against the urge to pull it down, throw her on top of the counter and take her again.

  Of course, Anya’s presence and the fact that I’d taken Katya’s virginity last night threw cold water on that idea. I’d never slept with a virgin before, not particularly caught up on the idea of female chastity. In fact, I’d always steered away from any female that seemed remotely inexperienced, fearing the expectation of a relationship. But with Katya, the thought of another man’s hands on her had waves of rage rolling through me. I probably would have to killed him.

  That wasn’t a euphemism.

  “What’s going on?” Katya asked.

  “I’m meeting with Callahan in an hour. You and Anya head up to your place and clear out your stuff. Don’t dawdle,” I ordered.

  Her brow pinched in annoyance, likely at my tone. I was treating her a bit like a child, but my need to have her safe wouldn’t allow me to behave any differently.

  “I know, I know. I swear, we won’t be gone for more than an hour or so.”

  I nodded. “Anya, later on, we will talk about your living situation.”

  She only nodded her head in agreement and continued wiping the counter. I think was she trying to be as invisible as possible after the revelation of her relationship with Callahan came to light.

  Boris and Will walked into the apartment. I pulled them aside and threatened them heavily in Russian about what would happen to them if anything happened to Katya under their watch.

  “I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if Yuri gets to Katya, do I?”

  “No, Pakhan,” they replied gruffly in unison.

  Instead of taking their word for it, I went on in excruciating detail about what I would do to them before I shoved a knife in their hearts. They were both sweating before I finished.

  “You will notify me of your progress every fifteen minutes until you return here. Just send me a text. You are to give her one hour to finish. At that time, you leave with whatever she has packed.”

  They nodded their heads in agreement, most likely eager for the conversation to end. Boris was probably especially annoyed. He’d always hated this detail, believing he should be doing something more important than watching some college girl. He didn’t seem to realize this was the most important job, in my opinion. If he fucked up, he’d find out soon enough.

  I walked into the kitchen and pulled Katya back into my bedroom—our bedroom. “I’m leaving for my meeting. I will be constantly updated on your progress.”

  Katya brows pinched together, shooting me a look of confused curiosity. “Drago, if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you just take me to my apartment.”

  “I need to get used to…being in a relationship with you. I need to be able to let you out of my sight. I can’t function in my role if I don’t adjust to you being protected by someone other than me. If I start this relationship by hovering over you and keeping you with me, it’s just going to make it harder later on, for both of us. I figure, if I’m able to let my men protect you, especially with Yuri around, it’s proof I can stay focused on my responsibilities.”

  “So, I’m a distraction?” Katya asked jokingly.

  I held her shoulders in my hands and looked her in the eye. “Yes, you are. Undeniably.”

  She gasped, looking hurt.

  “I know that sounds bad, and I’m not saying it to hurt your feelings, but it’s the truth. I have never had a personal relationship interfere with my responsibilities. Ever. Worrying about your safety—it makes me ineffective.”

  I knew this sounded cold, but I needed her to understand how aspects of this relationship needed to function.

  Her wounded expression indicated I had done nothing to salvage her feelings. “You make me sound like such an inconvenience.”

  I sighed. “Katya, you must understand why a relationship is difficult for a man in my position. I must have no weaknesses. You,” I said softly, rubbing my thumb against her cheek. “You are my greatest weakness. I cannot let others see it. Even my own people.”

  Her golden-green eyes widened at my admission. “Well, when you say it like that, how am I supposed to stay mad?”

  I chuckled. “Hopefully, you don’t. But seriously, I need to be able to let others watch over you. If I don’t do it now, you’ll end up handcuffed to my side. Literally.”

  She snorted with laughter, but I was dead serious. It was taking everything I had to let her go back to her place without me. The sparkle in her golden-green eyes indicated she still thought I was kidding. “Well, maybe we can try the handcuffs another
time.”

  All the emotional congestion I was feeling immediately dissipated under the scorching heat of desire rolling through me at the thought of using a pair of restraints on Katya, restraints I already possessed.

  I pulled her to me, sliding my hands under the back of her t-shirt, my t-shirt, rubbing my hands up her smooth skin and into the back of the boxer briefs. I cupped the soft globes of her ass and lifted her against me. “That can be arranged.”

  I leaned in and kissed her. My tongue conquering her mouth and conveying my enthusiasm for her idea. Apparently, she was also excited, as her leg climbed to wrap around my waist. I picked her up, and both legs wound around me. I walked her over to the windows and pressed her body against it, grinding my now rock-hard cock between her legs. She moaned into my mouth, moving her hips in motion with me.

  I ripped my mouth away. “Fuck.”

  “What?” Katya asked, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes at half-mast and heated.

  “You are a fucking distraction,” I murmured, planting soft kisses on the side of her mouth and down her neck. I pulled her t-shirt down, exposing the graceful line of her neck. I sucked on the side of it until I was certain I left a mark. It made me feel better leaving her if there was some evidence of my claim on her.

  “Another hickey?” Katya squealed as she slapped her hand to where I’d just marked her. “What are you—in junior high?” she accused as she slid her legs down to stand.

  I just smirked. She was right. It was immature. I also didn’t care. “I like it. How would you feel about a tattoo?”

  Katya just rolled her eyes at me. “Knowing you, you’d probably put it on my forehead. Property of Drago? Drago’s lady? Private property—trespassers beware?” she peppered me with suggestions.

  I gave her a look of mock speculation. “Maybe not on your forehead.”

  She just snorted and went to sock me in the arm, but I grabbed it and pulled her to me again. I kissed her softly, stroking my thumb from her cheek down to the mark I’d just made. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

  Before she could say anything, I gave her a hard kiss and walked out the door. I had to, or else I wouldn’t be able to leave her at all.

  Chapter 22

  Katya

  I watched Anya unlock our front door and found myself repeatedly looking over my shoulder. Drago’s paranoia had rubbed off on me. Instead of finding Yuri twirling his fictional mustache, I only found the stone-faced expressions of Will and Boris staring back at me.

  Anya opened the door, and I ran to my bedroom, eager to change my clothes. There was something so seedy about wearing club clothes during the day.

  After changing into a pair of black leggings, and a white, wide-necked shirt over a white tank top, I threw open my closet and grabbed my suitcases. I quickly realized I didn’t have enough luggage to bring everything I wanted. I needed boxes and other moving paraphernalia, but I doubted Drago would appreciate us running to Lowe’s and getting packing materials.

  I still wanted to pinch myself. Just yesterday, I was ready to shed all my childish fantasies about having a relationship with Drago and now I’m moving in with him.

  “You almost done?” Will asked, his tall frame filling the doorway, dark brows lowered over dark blue eyes. He’d be pretty cute if he didn’t look perpetually annoyed. It was hard to believe he was the friendlier of the two.

  I gave him an exasperated look. “I just got in here five minutes ago!”

  “Drago wants this to go fast,” he grunted.

  I waved him away. “Fine, fine, leave me alone and let me finish.”

  Will glanced down at his phone, his expression becoming darker. “Hey, it’s been fifteen minutes,” he shouted down the hall to Boris as he walked out of the room.

  What the hell did that mean? Were we being timed?

  Knowing Drago? Probably.

  I ignored them and went back to shoving clothes, jewelry, books, art supplies, and electronics into assorted baggage. I stared down at the necklace Drago had given me, giddy at the prospect of wearing it again.

  I was still admiring the locket when Anya came into my room and plopped down on my bed. I dropped the necklace in my pocket, slightly embarrassed to be caught staring at a piece of jewelry with such a dopey look on my face.

  I frowned at her in concern. “Are you okay? Is it about that guy?” I asked as I started to dump clothes into a suitcase.

  “What? No, no, I’m not bothered about him. Well, I mean, I am, but not right now.” She paused, looking uncomfortable. She grabbed a pile of clothes on the bed and started folding them. “It’s just…I’m going to miss you. I liked living with you. You were my first real female friend.”

  I stopped what I was doing and looked at her; all these emotions were welling up inside of me. I was so caught up in Drago, it was just hitting me that I wouldn’t be living with Anya anymore. Anya, who had become my rock, my pal, my protector. I plopped down on the bed next to her and grabbed her hand.

  “Anya, I’m going to miss living with you, too. I know living here was a job, but you’ve truly become one of my best friends.”

  “So, you still want to hang out sometimes?” she asked, her gaze darting back and forth from me to the balled-up t-shirt in her hand. Discomfort came off her in waves. All these mob types were the same when it came to emotions. Awkward.

  I grinned at her, seeking to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Besides, you still haven’t let me give you a complete make-over yet.” She snorted at that. She’d been resisting since we moved in together. “And now that I know there’s a man in the picture…”

  Anya gasped and swatted me with the shirt she was holding. “There is no man! I told you, he wants to kill me right now, literally.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him? I didn’t even know you were talking to someone.” I paused, thinking back. “Well, I knew something was going on. About a month ago, you were always checking your phone and giggling.”

  Anya gasped. “I don’t giggle!” She looked through the door to my room, clearly making sure that Will and Boris didn’t hear me. She acted like I’d accused her of cannibalism.

  I rolled my eyes. “You were giggling. I knew there might have been a guy, but I didn’t want to pry.” I figured she’d met some guy, or girl because she never indicated anything about her sexuality one way or another. I was a little hurt she didn’t confide in me until I realized I’d never told her about the depth of my feelings for Drago. It was weird that we had lived together for years but kept so many secrets.

  She had her platinum hair in a long braid down her back and pulled it over her shoulder to play with the end. She looked a little bit like Elsa from Frozen. “I-I didn’t mean to hide anything from you. Girl talk…” she started, looking pained.

  “I understand, Anya, honestly. I grew up in the Bratva, too. And it’s not like I told you about Drago.”

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” she asked in mock outrage.

  I laughed. “How about we trust each other from now on. Honestly, how nice would it be to be able to talk about how fucking confusing guys are?”

  She snorted. “Seriously! I felt so stupid trying to figure out Callahan.”

  I nodded in solidarity. “How long did you guys talk for?”

  “About six months.”

  “I know this is going to sound weird to say to a member of the Bratva, but you do know it’s dangerous to just meet up with some criminal you met on the dark web, right?”

  Anya chuckled. “Yes, but I had a weapon on me and picked a well-populated bar. Ironically, I was nervous that he might be playing me.”

  “Have you talked to him since you met up?”

  Anya shook her head dolefully. “No. I sent him a message the next day, trying to explain what happened, that I didn’t even know who he was until he showed up. He hasn’t responded.”

  “That’s the only message you sent him?”

  Anya blushed. “Well, rememb
er when I got drunk a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Oh, god, yes! I think you drank an entire bottle of vodka by yourself that night. I thought you were going to need your stomach pumped. I was wondering why you got so wasted.” It had been a Friday night, and Anya randomly decided to drink herself into oblivion in her room. I could count the number of times I’d seen Anya drunk on one hand, so to see her drink so much, and drink alone, was jarring.

  Anya dropped her body back down on my bed and fell back to stare at the ceiling. “I had been feeling sorry for myself. I was so disappointed. I really liked talking to him. I-I…missed him.”

  I sat myself next to her and, again, reached for her hand. “I totally get it. I’ve been there.”

  “I messaged him that night—a sloppy, sentimental, drunken message. I was so embarrassed the next day I told him to forget everything I had said. Apparently, he did because I never heard from him.”

  “I’m sorry, Anya. You know that was around the time he stole the guns from Drago. You think he was trying to get your attention?”

  Anya held her arms in a “who knows” gesture, though the thought clearly gave her pause as her brows furrowed in consideration. She shook her head. “No way. I mean, he has my freaking phone number. A text would have got my attention much more effectively.”

  “In that case, maybe we can find you a new man,” I suggested optimistically.

  She glanced over at me; her expression resigned. “Like you found a new man?”

  “Touché.”

  *****

  Anya and I started to sort out my stuff as I made decisions about what I was going to keep here for the time being. Will came in the room what felt like every thirty seconds to give me a hard stare clearly meant to quicken my pace.

  I had just about gotten things packed when Drago walked into my room.

  I stared at him for a moment, speechless. “What are you doing here?”