The God: (A Dark Mafia Romance) (Bratva Blood Book 3)

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The God: (A Dark Mafia Romance) (Bratva Blood Book 3) Page 16

by SR Jones


  I swallow and I make the leap, trusting that Bohdan will catch me.

  “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay. For a while at least.”

  There’s so much we need to talk about, though. I pull my clothes on and look at Bohdan as he rearranges himself.

  “I need to tell you some things though. I lied when I said I was on the pill. I can’t have children. I had an accident that damaged my reproductive system.”

  “An accident?” he asks.

  “Yes, it genuinely was. Car accident, and the seatbelt did a lot of damage to me. I can’t have kids.”

  He smiles at me as I bite my lip, watching his reaction.

  “I’ve never really wanted kids,” he says. “But if you really did, there are things we could look at, but all that is a long way down the road.”

  “I don’t want kids either.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I always feel like the responsibility would kill me. Like, I don’t think I’d handle it well. I also think, and I’m not being horrible about Mother now, but I didn’t get the best upbringing in many ways, so I think I wouldn’t be a good mom.”

  “You’d be an amazing mom,” he says. “I’m on the same page, though. I don’t want to bring kids into this world. It’s fucked up, and dangerous, and I don’t know. I feel as if it’s a dark place. Always have, I suppose.”

  I laugh a little. “Maybe it’s our Russian souls.”

  “Maybe,” he says. “The thing is, Dasha. Kids are not a deal breaker for me. It’s not something I think I want, and if say one day you really did, then we can revisit it. Okay? But I don’t care that you can’t have kids, other than the fact that I care you had to go through that.”

  “I don’t know what my future holds, Bohdan,” I tell him. “I’m agreeing to stay for a while, but I don’t know what beyond that.”

  “I get it,” he says. “And it’s all I ask. That you give us some time, and a chance.”

  I kiss him once, and then I turn to go upstairs. “How about we take a turn in that pool; it looks amazing.”

  “You’ve got it,” he says.

  **

  Bohdan wasn’t lying when he said he’d build me a dance studio. He already has the plans for it, and it’s astonishing. He showed me last night. I’ve been here two weeks now, and something about this place is magical. It seeps into your soul. The warmth, the blue sky, blue sea, and the green verdant hills. I honestly think Northern Corfu is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to a lot of pretty places. There’s something so peaceful about it. Jasper calls me every day, and I mostly ignore those calls because what can I say to him?

  My lawyer is indeed a shark and says that I will get most of what I’ve earned over the years, which is now stashed into Jasper’s savings, back. The big issue is the house. Jasper managed to muddy the waters with what were his earnings and what were mine, and now the lawyers are having a hard time proving the house is from my sweat and tears. I’ve realized I don’t care. So long as I can afford to live, and so long as I am free from Jasper, I don’t care about the house. I’ve instructed my lawyer to offer Jasper a deal. Jasper keeps the house, the cars, and all the tangible assets, and I get the liquid assets, the cash in the accounts. It will be more than enough for me to start over and leaves him enough to be able to keep on living to a certain lifestyle standard he’s clearly used to. I’m hoping it will be enough to stop him from trying to contact me and keep things going. I want rid of him so badly. I also want him to stop abusing any other girls in the future and I’m going to talk with Bohdan about it at some point.

  “This can be where we create a barracks, essentially.” The deep tones of Andrius drag me back to the present moment.

  We’re looking around the land they have bought to build their training school on, and it’s stunning. There’s an old farmhouse that is massive, then a stable block, two cottages, a row of three barns, about ten acres of land, some of it wooded, and a whole host of other smaller buildings.

  “See, there is room to build here and here.” Andrius points to a plot of land surrounded on three sides by trees, but with views on the last open side down to the sea.

  Cassie claps her hands together like an excited child and hugs her partner, Konstantin. “It would be amazing for us to build here,” she says. “One house for us, and one for my grandparents.”

  “So who gets the massive farmhouse?” Konstantin asks.

  Andrius shrugs. “I thought we could split that. Make it into two homes. You could keep that front entrance, but then split the other side of the house off and have a side entrance. If you guys would prefer, you could live there. I only suggested this plot for you so you could have your grandparents near you, but separate in their own building. I’m genuinely easy on how we do this. I don’t give a fuck whether I live in the farmhouse or whether Violet and I build something new. Either way, we can make this work, and it will be a great place to live.”

  “I’d prefer to build something new for us that we can have next to my grandparents,” Cassie says.

  “So who would you share the farmhouse building with?” Konstantin asks Andrius.

  He shrugs again. “Reece and his lady, or Bohdan.”

  Bohdan is looking beyond us to a patch of land off to one side, about half an acre away. “What was there?”

  Andrius inspects the plans opened out on an old table in front of him, held down with a stone on each corner. “An old grain mill, gone now.”

  “I want to build there,” Bohdan says.

  Andrius clears his throat. “I thought if you wanted part of the farmhouse that might be a bit less expensive.”

  “I’ve got a few million tucked away. I think that will cover it, don’t you?”

  “You have?” Konstantin turns to Bohdan, brows raised in surprise. “I know I paid you well, but damn; you didn’t waste it on fast cars and loose women, did you?”

  “Nah, and I didn’t waste it on Hermes wallets and Ferragamo shoes either,” Bohdan says with a wink.

  Konstantin scowls, but Cassie snort-laughs behind her hand.

  “I put it into savings and investments, emerging markets mostly.”

  “You have a good broker then?” Konstantin asks.

  Bohdan shakes his head. “No, I do it all myself. Keep pretty liquid so I can move it around quickly if needs be.”

  “Did you make a big loss in 2008?” Konstantin asks.

  “No, because I moved things around. I made money. Had some shorts and hedges mixed in too.”

  “For real?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  Bohdan seems to be getting a bit pissy with the interrogation, but when Konstantin speaks next, Bohdan relaxes and grins.

  “Would you look at my portfolio for me?” Konstantin asks him.

  Bohdan nods. “Of course, man. Of course.”

  “Mine too,” Andrius says.

  “Yes, I’ll look at yours as well. So if I can afford it, can I build there?”

  I look again at where he’s pointing and see the appeal straightaway. It’s set back from the rest, and there’s what looks like a natural wildflower meadow to one side. To the other are some wooded paths, and then the cliffs and the ocean beyond, sparkling blue in the afternoon sun. It’s a stunning spot. A place anyone would be over the moon to call home.

  For a moment I get a blinding flash of a different life. I assumed this was a very nice holiday in Greece, but at some point, I’d go back on the road, performing. My mother would probably become my assistant and organize all the technical side of things, and we’d bicker our way around Europe. I’m sure she’d prefer to be my manager but I don’t trust her enough to give her any actual control. I’d maybe see Bohdan on breaks, if he waited around for me. Then what?

  In a few years, I’d find the work drying up as I aged. I’d either start teaching newcomers, move into choreography, or become some Grand Dame of the scene, touring the TV studios and reliving my past glories. Do I want that? I
always thought I wouldn’t want to teach, not in Paris certainly. But here? I imagine having a summer school near where Bohdan wants to build us a house, and something akin to excitement unfurls in me.

  Why not leave on a high? If I retired now, I’d be doing so on my terms, and at the height of my fame. From what my lawyer has told me, if we can get the money I am owed from Jasper, I won’t have to work again if I don’t wish to. I’m not a woman who wants a fancy lifestyle, and with the million or so euros that I am fighting for, that would keep me for many years.

  What if I just stayed here? In this beautiful place? With these people who I grow to like more and more each day.

  Furthermore, with Bohdan. A man I am realizing means way more to me than I’ve been letting myself admit. He says I was always it for him, but I’m starting to realize it works both ways. On some level, he’s always been it for me too.

  I never truly got over him, and when I saw him again in that corridor at the theater, it was the shock of my life. I honestly felt as if I’d been kicked back to life by some sort of emotional defibrillator, and I’ve been alive in that way ever since.

  For years I had felt nothing. Only numbness and cold, hard rage. Now, I feel things every day. I laugh and smile, and I sit in the sun. Some days we go and swim with Cassie and Konstantin.

  He scared me at first. The man is massive, and he’s gruff, and his natural expression seems to be a scowl, but he looks at Cassie like she hung the moon and stars for him. No one can be too scared of a man capable of looking at a woman that way.

  Reece, their other partner in this venture, came and went again. He’s sorting things out in the UK with his wife. She wasn’t with him, but when he moves out here fully, she’ll come. They’ll all be here, these happy families, with their dogs, and I could be too. Mr. Bojangles is a huge hit; they all love him. I could bring my cats and my birds, and we could all be free here in the sun.

  It’s taking a huge risk, and it’s not something I find easy to do after the mistakes I made in trusting Jasper, but if my lawyer can help me out, I’ll have my own money, and I won’t need to rely on Bohdan financially. It means I can give this a try, and if it doesn’t work, I have an out. Not like with Jasper where I was tied to him so tightly it felt like I’d never be free.

  I glance at Bohdan, and my tummy does that flip-flop feeling it does around him these days. He’s so damn handsome. I think I’m in love. Maybe for the first time in my adult life, I’m in love. I thought I loved him as a teenager, but that was different than this. This is deeper. We spend a lot of time together, and we enjoy one another’s company. Bohdan is like me; he’s quiet deep down. I find him restful to be around.

  There’s a lot of noise, and some activity behind us as I turn to see two men approach. One is very handsome, Bohdan levels of handsome, which you don’t see often, and the other is huge. He is absolutely massive, just muscle on muscle.

  “Malaka,” the handsome one shouts at Andrius who grins, goes to him, and pulls him into a manly backslap.

  I know what malaka means. It’s a Greek word that means wanker, and seriously, the Greeks on this island use it all the time. They love the word. It’s like their favorite word ever.

  Introductions are made, and I learn the men are called Alesso and Damen. They are staying until late tonight when they take a flight back to Athens.

  Cassie and Violet run off together chattering about making a huge Mezze, a Greek version of Tapas where instead of lots of small plates, you often get two or three huge platters groaning with a mix of foods. I hang back, unsure where I fit in here.

  I like being with Bohdan. The women here? They are nice, but they’re very girly. They cook, and bake, and coo over the baby, and I don’t fit in with them. I’ve never been very feminine. I look it, with having long hair and being so small, but I never played with dolls as a child, except for ballet dolls. Baby dolls never interested me, and once Jasper told me cruelly that it was a good job I lost the ability to have kids as I’d have made a terrible mother. I kind of think he might have been right because I don’t get all giddy over babies. I like children, but I tend to like them when they become little people and you can talk to them. Babies, not so much.

  I believe all my feminine impulses went into ballet. The costumes, the dances, it was my obsession. I had a friend who was the same over horses, and now she works in a dressage school. She loves it. Horses are her life. For the longest time, ballet was my life, and I’m not sure I know who I am without it.

  That evening we all gather at the huge outdoor table Andrius and Violet have to the side of their house, on the spacious patio. There are candles burning all around, the pool is lit, and the sun is setting. It’s a stunning scene.

  I sip at a glass of wine, a local village wine, apparently, which is delicious. My mother turned down her invite. She refuses to mix with the people here. Her disdain for them is mortifying. We’ve always had a tricky relationship, but these days she’s making me actively dislike her. Every time I see the scars on Bohdan’s legs I want to march into her room and throttle her. How could she do that? How can she still believe she was right to, despite what happened to Bohdan because of her actions?

  I glance at him now and smile to myself. And how can he forgive her? It shows what a huge heart he has.

  The setting sun casts Bohdan in a golden light. His hair is a little longer than it was when he first arrived in Paris, and it glints lighter at the ends where it’s changed in the sun. His skin is golden, and his eyes are so blue. He’s laughing at something Alesso is saying, and my heart starts to beat entirely too fast.

  God, he’s beautiful, and kind, and I’m a mess. One day he’ll realize it. He’ll look at me and see me for what I really am. A messed up, neurotic weirdo who can only feel good when she’s dancing or with him. Has he become my new addiction? Replaced the dancing as the only way for me to feel remotely calm?

  He looks to me and smiles. I smile back, but he must see the sadness and uncertainty behind it because he leaves Alesso and comes to me. He slips an arm around my waist and pulls me into him. “You okay, lost girl?” he murmurs in my ear. “Because you know, you’re not lost any longer, right? You have a family and a home right here if you want it.”

  As if to emphasize the point about how well we’re fitting in here, Mr. Bojangles comes tearing around the corner, his little legs working furiously as a giddy Gulliver chases him.

  “God, Gully, careful,” Cassie admonishes as the dog nearly takes her legs from under her.

  “Dinner is ready.” Violet appears at the double doors leading from the house to the patio area, and we all head to the table to sit. Bohdan takes my right, and the handsome one, Alesso, takes my left.

  Feeling protected by Bohdan’s presence, I can enjoy the buzz and hum of conversation all around me as I lean into Bohdan and nibble at the delicious food and sip at the wine. The table is groaning with delicacies. There are vine leaves wrapped around rice. Deep-fried calamari, as well as deep-fried eggplant and zucchini slices. Two huge bowls of Greek salad punctuate each end of the long table, and warm bread sits temptingly in the center. There’s a variety of meat on one platter, and cheese on another. Olives in bright green bowls are scattered around the table, and people are piling their plates high and devouring the food.

  There’s some white stuff in front of me, and I’m not sure what it is. Alesso glances at me and follows my gaze. He smiles. “Have you ever tried it before?” he asks me in excellent English.

  “No, what is it?”

  “Skordolia, but they say it is not for the faint of heart,” he says with a grin.

  “Why not?”

  “Find out. Try some, a little only, on some bread.”

  I take a spoon, ladle a little of the dip onto my plate, break off some bread and taste. Oh, good God in heaven. Garlic. So much garlic.

  “The vampires in the hills won’t get you tonight.” Alesso winks at me.

  I take my wine and wash the dip down with a big si
p. At this rate, I’ll be more than slightly merry. I don’t drink a lot, and this is my second or maybe third glass.

  “I hear you’re a famous dancer,” Alesso says. “World famous.”

  I sort of nod and shake my head at the same time, not sure how to answer. If I say no, it’s a lie, but saying yes is bigheaded.

  “You’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Dasha dancing,” Bohdan speaks across me.

  “I’d love to see you dance.” Violet sighs and hugs herself as if me dancing for her is some sort of personal dream come true.

  “Dance for us,” Andrius says as he stands and strides into the house. He returns moments later, and music begins from the speakers out here. Flash bastard has an outdoors, as well as an indoors, sound system.

  “Oh, please, Dasha, will you dance?” Violet’s eyes light up.

  I don’t want to. I feel stupid here, in this intimate setting. I turn to Bohdan about to enlist his help in rescuing me, but I see such pride on his face that I suddenly want to do it. No one has ever looked at me that way. Not even Mother looked so proud when I was made Prima Ballerina.

  “Okay,” I say softly. “I’m not sure how good I will be, as I’ve had a fair bit of wine. I’ll need my shoes,” I say to Bohdan.

  He rushes off to the house we’re staying in and comes back a few minutes later carrying my shoes and a ruffled skirt I sometimes practice in. I pull the skirt on over my skinny jeans, then fasten my shoes.

  I ask Andrius to see if he can find Camille Saint-Saens to play for me, and when he says he has, I go and stand in the middle of the candles, the lights flickering and casting shadows all around me. I have practiced this piece, The Dying Swan, so often as doing a solo show with this as the highlight was always my dream. It’s a dream that could come true for me now, thanks to Lilliana, but not one I’m sure I want anymore.

  There’s silence as I raise my arms and then start to dance as the music fills me, the way it always does. The arms are so fluid at the start of this piece, they almost look like water if you get it right. I imagine it now, my arms as beautiful wings moving with grace and elegance. It’s an emotional and moving piece, and as I dance, I put all the heartbreak and pain I’ve suffered into it. I put the hours spent on that cold kitchen floor into the dance. I don’t look at Bohdan because he’s my sunshine, and for this, I need the pain.

 

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