Chapter 18: Chapter 16

He was here last night. I know it the instant I open my eyes and find myself in bed instead of on the couch.

I couldn’t make myself go to sleep in the same bed where he gave me the most magnificent pleasure, only to crush me with his threats afterward. The other side of the bed is empty, but when I flip around and bury my nose into the pillow, his smell is all over it. The impulse to hug that pillow to my chest is strong, but at the same time, I want to tear the damn thing to pieces.

“I’m locking the door tonight,” I mumble into feathery softness, then spring out of bed and maniacally start pulling off the sheets and pillowcases. Once everything that bears his scent is removed, I head into the bathroom to have a shower. A foot over the threshold, I come to a jarring stop. The neatly lined up products—shampoo, shower gel, deodorant—mock me from the shelf beside the tub. All of them are his. Whether I want it or not, I’m going to be covered in his scent.

Well, not happening.

I grab the bar soap from the dish next to the sink on the vanity and get into the tub. It’s the only cleanser that doesn’t contribute to his manly scent, so I end up washing my entire body, hair included, with it.

Twenty minutes later, when I emerge from the en suite smelling like baby powder and with my hair in a frizzy mess (washing it with hand soap was not a good idea), I notice the exquisite-looking golden paper bag set on the coffee table. With slow steps, I approach the couch and take a seat, staring at the offering, feeling defeated. He bought me a present. Again.

I pull the bag toward me and take out two velvet boxes. The larger one holds a white gold tennis bracelet adorned with dozens of diamonds so flawlessly clear that they reflect the light like tiny little mirrors. A small diamond-encrusted charm hangs from the dazzling alternating cluster of gemstones on the stunning band. The shape is of the lily of the valley. I look down at my chest where the identical pendant rests over my cleavage. It’s the only gift from Rafael that I kept and wear.

My eyes sting. I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath before opening the second box. It contains a set of matching earrings. This is not a random purchase, but a thoughtful token a man would give to a woman he loves. I struggle to swallow over the lump that’s lodged in my throat. How could he? You don’t threaten to kill the family of someone you love. And you don’t keep your loved one captive.

Carefully, I put the jewelry back into the bag, wipe the tears from my eyes, and head to the walk-in closet. The overhead lights turn on when I slide the door aside, illuminating the rows of empty shelves on the left wall where my clothes have been. I do a three-sixty, looking around in confusion. Rafael’s suits, shirts, and everything else are still there. But other than my underwear and socks, and the fluffy white cardigan, everything else of mine is gone!

“That jackass,” I snap and reach for his dress shirt. But then, I change my mind.

He wants to play dirty?

Game on.

* * *

“What a lovely morning,” I chirp as I step inside the kitchen, heading straight to the stove where Irma is cooking scrambled eggs. “Can I have some of that goat cheese on the side, as well?”

“Yes . . . of course,” she mumbles, her eyes as wide as saucers as she takes in my outfit.

“Thanks.” I smile and sit down across from Guido at the counter-height breakfast table. His eyebrows are in his hairline while he stares at me and does a great imitation of a fish struggling to breathe.

“Are we implementing a new dress code around here?” he asks.

“Not as far as I know.” I take the coffee carafe and pour myself a cup. “Why do you ask?”

“Yesterday, I stumbled on Rafael storming through the house in his birthday suit. He traumatized all the female staff. And now . . . you.” He motions with his cup in my direction.

“Your brother confiscated my clothes. Again.” I shrug and take a long sip. “I had to work with what I had available. It’s not like I’m naked.”

“I beg to differ.” He shakes his head. “I’ll tell Irma to pull down the blinds.”

“Why?”

“Because the gardeners are gawking at you and salivating. They may end up cutting off their fingers instead of rose bush branches.”

“I prefer natural light.”

Guido sets his coffee on the table and stands up. “I’m out. Don’t want to be around when Rafael sees you and loses his shit.”

“And why would Rafael lose his shit?” A deep voice comes from somewhere behind me.

“Fuck,” Guido mumbles.

I grab a knife and start spreading butter on the bagel I picked up from the platter on the table.

“Good morning, Rafael,” I say like I don’t have a care in the world and slowly swivel around on my chair.

He stands in the kitchen doorway, absolutely motionless, for an excruciatingly drawn-out moment. The only part of him that isn’t stone-still are his eyes. They are scanning my body, pausing on the see-through lacy bra that hides basically nothing, then continuing down my exposed stomach to the small triangle of the matching white thong. I did put on my fluffy cardigan, but I chose to leave it fully unbuttoned.

“Everybody. Out,” Rafael says in a hushed tone as his eyes move back up to my breasts. “RIGHT. THE FUCK. NOW!” he roars with his next breath.

“But, I haven’t finished my breakfast, yet.” I blink at him innocently.

His face is a mask of sheer rage as he crosses the distance and stops right in front of me.

“Guido,” he growls through his teeth, but his furious stare is focused on me. “If there is a single man left in this house in the next ten seconds, I’m going to gut him on the spot. That includes you. GET THE FUCK OUT!”

I take a bite of my bagel and watch Irma and Guido dash past Rafael. They hastily close the kitchen side door following their exit, but it doesn’t suppress the frantic shouts and sounds of commotion elsewhere inside the house.

Rafael leans forward and grips the table on either side of me, caging me with his massive body and arms. He looks so pissed that I wouldn’t be surprised to see fire flaring from his nostrils at any second. “What. The fuck. Are you doing?”

“This was all that was left on my side of the closet. And I won’t wear your clothes again.”

“You will.” He gets in my face. “Even if I have to carry you upstairs and forcibly put one of my shirts on you.”

I bring up my hand and press the tip of the knife under his chin. “Feel free to try. And see what happens.”

Inhaling deeply and with obvious effort, Rafael narrows his eyes at me, then grabs the back of my neck and slams his mouth to mine. I barely have enough time to drop the knife, and it clatters to the hardwood floor with a resounding clang.

“I could have cut you, you idiot,” I mutter into his lips as I return the kiss with equal vigor.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

I wind my arms around his neck, pulling him tighter against me, and hook my feet behind his back. His hardness presses right into my core, and wetness soaks my thin underwear. My God, I’m so angry at this man, but I still vehemently crave him inside me. He might be a ruthless jerk, but I’m utterly crazy about him.

I draw his lower lip between my teeth, biting it. He bites me back. His right hand flexes on my nape while his left glides up along my inner thigh to the lace covering my pussy.

“You’re fucking soaked, Vasilisa,” Rafael growls, pushing the lace to the side and dragging his finger through my folds.

Tremors rack my body from the raw need I hear in his tone.

“I’m going to lick every last drop of your sweet nectar.” He grabs me under my ass and deposits me on top of the table. “Right the fuck now.”

I’m shaking as I lean back to lie on the cool surface where the plates and cups are still scattered. I reach for the edge, but my hand catches on something, and the unlucky item smashes on the floor. Rafael lifts my right foot and presses his lips on the inside of my ankle, then slowly trails kisses up my leg. When his mouth reaches my pussy, he presses his face to it and inhales.

“Fucking heaven,” he rumbles as he breathes in my scent one more time.

Wrapping his fingers around my ankle, he sets my foot on his shoulder, then shifts his attention to the other leg.

Ankle.

Inner thigh.

Pussy.

He covers every inch of my skin in slow, hard kisses before he hooks my foot over his shoulder. With a low guttural grunt, he tears my thong in half, and the delicate lace falls away.

I’m already half-gone when he buries his face between my legs. My lips part as I strain for more air, trembling with every stroke of his tongue.

Languid. Methodical. He is intent on licking every last drop. My core is quivering with the need for more. I grab his hair, pulling his head into me as I crest the swelling wave of pleasure. His lips close around my clit, sucking it into his mouth. I scream. My release is imminent, I can feel it, but Rafael’s touch is suddenly gone.

“More!” I mewl.

“I’ll give you more, vespetta.” A barely-there caress with warm fingers at the entrance to my throbbing core. “But only if you promise to put on my shirt afterward.”

I open my eyes to find Rafael standing between my legs as he continues to tease my pussy, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“No,” I pant.

“You’re sure?” He raises his hand to his mouth and licks my glistening juices off his fingers while staring brazenly into my eyes.

My core clenches with a desperate ache for him, but I keep my mouth shut.

“I don’t think it would take more than ten seconds to make you come at this point.” As if to cement that statement, he places his thumb over my clit, applying the slightest pressure.

I arch my back and shudder in response.

“See?” He slides just the tip of his finger inside me, making me whimper.

The smile on his face turns devilish. With deliberately slow movements, he unzips his pants and releases his huge cock.

“Come here,” he says as he slides his hands under my ass and pulls me toward him.

I wrap my arms around his neck and glare into his eyes. They are locked on mine like magnets while he takes a step to the left and leans my back on the fridge. The head of his cock brushes against my weeping pussy, ratcheting up my frustration even more. I’m losing my sanity because of this man.

He slides his cock into my channel, no further than an inch, and stops. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Damn you,” I moan. “Yes, I’ll wear your fucking shirt.”

His cock plunges inside me with such force that I choke on my breath and fall apart into infinite tiny pieces.

* * *

Steam saturates the air as it rises from the enormous bathtub, fogging the bathroom mirror and the window. I close my eyes and lean my chin on my knees while Rafael strokes my back, drawing random patterns along my spine.

“You have breadcrumbs in your hair.”

“Hmm, must be because you chose to lay me out on the table like a breakfast spread while you fucked my pussy with your mouth.”

“I don’t remember you complaining at the time.” He takes one of my tangled tresses between his fingers. “Why does your hair smell like baby powder?”

“It’s the soap. I didn’t want to smell like you.”

His arms wrap around my middle, pulling me to his chest. The next moment, he leans back, fully submerging us both.

I spit the water from my mouth after he allows us to surface and mumble, “I guess, this means you’re not a fan of my new fragrance.”

“You’re correct.”

Behind me, there’s the distinct sound of a bottle being uncapped, and then his hands are in my hair, massaging my scalp, as the scent of his shampoo envelops me.

“This doesn’t change a thing between us, Rafael,” I whisper.

“I know.”

He turns on the shower wand and begins rinsing my hair. I tilt my head and close my eyes while he rakes his fingers through my strands, his ministrations incredibly gentle. Cherishing. Tender. The ache in my chest is unbearable. I can’t let this man have my heart. Even though I want to. I want to so damn much. But I’m afraid he’ll crush that fragile muscle so terribly that there will be nothing left of it in the end.

“You win, vespetta.”

“Win what?”

A kiss lands on my shoulder blade. “You’re going home.”

Air gets stuck in my throat. Slowly, I turn around and meet his gaze. “You’ll take me to Chicago?”

“Yes.” He cocks his head to the side. “I thought you’d be ecstatic.”

“I am. It’s just . . .” I stare at him in confusion. “Last night, you threatened to wipe out my family. Is this another one of your games?”

“No. You’ll be home within forty-eight hours.”

I laugh and leap on him, splashing water all around the bathroom.

“We need to come up with some story for my dad,” I say into his lips between kisses. “I don’t think he’d be thrilled that I was kidnapped.”

“I’m sure he won’t be.”

“We’ll think of something. I can’t wait for you to meet my sister. Yulia is the only normal person in our family.” I kiss his chin. “God, I hope Sergei won’t be there when we arrive. I don’t want to shock you right away.”

“Very few things can shock me, Vasilisa. And I’ve already met your uncle.”

I lean back. “What? When?”

“We’re in the same line of business, so our paths have crossed more than once. He really is something else.”

“He is.” I grin. “Most people don’t get Uncle Sergei, but the truth is—he’s just a big golden retriever.”

“A military-trained, trigger-happy, seriously deranged golden retriever.”

“I guess that sums him up rather well.” I glide my palm down Rafael’s chest and wrap my fingers around his cock. It’s rock-hard. I arch an eyebrow. “Again? We just had sex. Twice.”

“You’re lying over me, naked. What do you expect?” He takes my waist and slides me down onto his rigid length.

Being in the water makes the sensation of him sliding into me surreal. Just like the first time we made love.

“I wish we had time to go out on your boat again. To that Kraken spot,” I pant as I ride him.

The corners of Rafael’s lips tilt upward, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. They seem . . . sad, for some reason. “Aren’t you still worried about the water creatures?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and slam my mouth to his. “Well, yeah. But, you’d save me, wouldn’t you?”

“Always. From anything,” Rafael rasps as he drives into me from below. “Myself included.”

I don’t get a chance to ask him what he means by that because, suddenly, he’s slamming into me as if something’s possessed him. Usually, his initial strokes are slow and gentle until I adjust to his size, but not now. I like it.

He surges deeper with every thrust, filling me up completely, making me gasp for my next breath. His muscles are hard under my palms, taut with strain. He’s so much larger than me that it makes me feel protected, even without a threat of any kind nearby.

Even though I don’t need his protection.

Strange how I’ve never felt threatened by him. Not even in the beginning.

I cling to Rafael’s neck as he pumps into me, staring into his sultry eyes.

“Today, you’ll be wearing nothing but my shirt,” he grunts as he keeps pounding into me relentlessly, bringing me closer to the edge each time he hits my G-spot.

Despite the bathtub being huge, I don’t think it was meant to be used like this. It wobbles left and right from our frenzied pace, water spilling over the rim and flooding the tiles.

“Do you understand, Vasilisa?”

“Yes!”

Air escapes me in short, shaky huffs while my pussy spasms around his cock. My mind is all mushy. Gone. Nonexistent. Another powerful slam, and I’m destroyed. Throwing my head back, I scream my pleasure, just as Rafael’s roar thunders through the room, and we both sink into rapture.

* * *

“Gray or black?” I lift two hangers in front of me.

“Gray.” Rafael nods toward the shirt in my left hand. It’s the one I wore when he took me shopping at Albini’s. His favorite.

“Am I allowed to wear underwear underneath? You said shirt only.”

“You can go without. I banished all men to beyond the house walls.” He opens the nightstand drawer and starts taking out the velvet jewelry boxes. A minute later, he approaches, holding the necklace of gray diamonds and gold. “Will you wear this for me today?”

I smirk and turn toward the mirror.

Rafael comes up behind me and pushes my hair away. “How did you get this?” he asks as he sets the necklace around my neck.

“What?”

“This small scar here.” His finger brushes the skin below my shoulder blade.

It takes me a few moments to realize what he’s talking about. “I don’t actually remember. I only know what Mom told me.”

“What happened?”

“I was at a mall with her and Dad. Mom was going to buy a dress for some event. Apparently, I slipped away from them and ran toward the jewelry store because I liked looking at the crystal roses and other sparkly things in the window display.”

Rafael’s finger stills on my back.

“There was some kind of explosion. Inside the store,” I continue. “Some guy grabbed me just before it happened. He saved my life.”

“How old were you?” Rafael asks as he resumes stroking my skin. His voice sounds strange. Strained somehow.

“I was three. And we never found out what happened to the man who saved me. Dad said he tried to find him when things settled down but had no luck. The guy was taken to a different hospital than where we ended up, and after, he just vanished. The only thing Dad knew about the man was that he was Albanian.”

“Oh?” Rafael presses his lips just over the mark, then continues stroking my scar.

“Yeah, he had an Albanian tattoo. Dad recognized it.” I turn around to face him. Rafael’s hair is wet, and some of his inky-dark strands have fallen forward. I reach up to sweep them back, but my fingers gravitate to his face, tracing the hard contours of his features. “I wish I knew who he was, you know,” I say in a whispered breath.

Rafael’s eyes crease slightly at the corners. “Why?”

“I owe him my life. Where I come from, it’s the ultimate debt.” I smile. “You of all people should understand the importance of debts, Rafael.”

He leans in and brushes his knuckles along my chin.

“It was just kismet. Right time. Right place. Your Albanian guy probably forgot all about it a long time ago. You’re not indebted to him.” His fingers seize my chin, tilting my head up for a kiss. “Were you hurt anywhere else?”

“Nope. Just that one cut. Everybody said it was a miracle.”

“Good.” He nods and pulls me closer. “How about I work on generating another ‘normal physical reaction’ out of you now?”

“It’s two in the fucking morning,” Guido grumbles as he takes a seat on the deck chair next to mine. “I thought you were upstairs.”

“Can’t sleep.” My eyes are fixed on the dark horizon while I take a sip of my wine.

“Well, you should try, because we might not get the chance in the upcoming days. I got word that Calogero is covertly mobilizing his men.” Leaning forward, he braces his elbows on his knees and lets out a heavy sigh. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

“We knew Calogero would retaliate after we destroyed his investments. He will try to hit us without the rest of the Family finding out. Ten men, fifteen tops, who will keep their mouths shut.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

“Yes.”

“Other Cosa Nostra members will execute you, Rafael. You can’t kill a fucking don and get away with it!”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve done that already.”

“That was different! No one other than Calogero knew you were the one who executed Mancuso.”

“Loyalty and respect are the key pillars of the Cosa Nostra creed, Guido. If a member goes against his word, he loses face, and with it, the respect he holds. But if it’s the don who breaks his word, it affects the whole Family. The damage to their reputation is absolute. I contacted old man Biaggi earlier and expressed my deep concern for how the Family may view their leader after finding out he broke his word to me. We came to the conclusion that it would be beneficial for all—me and the Sicilian Cosa Nostra—to keep that shame from reaching the light of day.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if I decide to alleviate their don of his existence, the Family will look the other way. So, you see, any problem can be resolved, if you know which buttons to push.”

“He’s our godfather, Rafael.”

“And that’s the only reason I let him live this long,” I snap and drain the rest of my wine. “But he used up all of his credit.”

“Rafael—”

“I called him. A month or so after we got to the States. I called our dear cumpari and I begged him to take you under his protection.” I meet Guido’s shocked stare. “He refused.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I was afraid you’d fucking starve if you stayed with me.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It was. But I managed to find a way to get us out of it.”

“By swearing fealty to the Albanian clan. You did it because of me.”

I set the glass on the tabletop and look at the pair of crossed daggers with a snake coiled around the blades inked on the inside of my left forearm. More images surround the tat, so it’s not as prominent as it once was. Still, someone who’s walked the darker paths in life will know what it represents.

“Why haven’t you removed it?” Guido asks, glancing at the Albanian gang mark on my arm.

“It’s in the past now,” I say, scrutinizing the inked design. I could’ve had it covered up, but I’m not ashamed of anything I did so I could feed my brother.

I lean back on the chair and fix my gaze on the distant fishing boats scattered across the sea. “I’m going to call Roman Petrov and tell him I have his daughter with me.”

“What?!” Guido leaps out of his chair. “Are you out of your goddamned mind?”

“Nope. I’m sending Vasilisa back to the States.”

“Why? Don’t get me wrong, I was against this crazy idea of yours from the start, but—”

“I’m in love with her, Guido.”

He gapes at me. “And you’re letting her go? That makes no sense.”

“You know . . . when I was a kid, I loved playing behind Mom’s house, trying to catch butterflies. There was a southern white admiral that was always fluttering around the roses. I tried to capture it for days, absolutely fixated on that poor thing because I wanted to have it for myself. I spent hours next to a thorny flower bush, doing whatever I could to trap the creature, but it always slipped away. Until one day, I finally caught it. I put it into a marmalade jar and set it in my room, by the bed.”

“A determined son of a bitch, even then.” Guido snorts.

“It died the next day. Maybe I squeezed it too much when I caught it, or it just couldn’t live in a fucking jar. When I went behind the house to look for another, there weren’t any. I never saw another admiral back there again.” I tilt my head to the sky and close my eyes. “Vasilisa reminds me of that butterfly. I can’t force her to stay with me. I thought I could, but it wouldn’t be right. She’s going back to Chicago tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow?”

“With Calogero planning retaliation as we speak, I can’t risk putting her life in danger. I almost got her killed once. There won’t be a second time.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Do you believe in destiny, Guido?”

“Destiny? Like shit that was meant to happen?” He raises an eyebrow. “Of course I don’t. It’s just mumbo jumbo for superstitious idiots.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Remember my last job for the Albanians?”

“As if I could ever forget. They told me you probably wouldn’t make it. That butcher they took you to barely managed to stitch you together. I hope that kid survived, because you nearly died playing the hero.”

“She survived.” I nod. “She’s currently sleeping upstairs in my bed.”

My brother’s face pales. He slumps on his deck chair, staring at me in shock. “That’s . . . not possible.”

“Yeah. Fate has a weird sense of humor.”

“Does Vasilisa know?”

“No.”

“You should tell her. You saved her life. Almost died because of her. Use any means at your disposal to keep her. Even Petrov wouldn’t object to your relationship. You know how seriously the Russians take a life debt.”

“And have her tied to me because of some sense of obligation?”

“Why would it matter? You love her. And you want her to be with you.”

“I thought you didn’t like my little hacker.”

Guido looks away. “The way you’ve been acting since she arrived here . . . Having her wear your clothes, getting the staff, leaving damn love notes for her all over the house—”

“Drawings,” I point out. “Not love notes.”

“Please. I don’t recall seeing you hold a fucking pen in the last decade. And you’ve had your assistant booking ‘dates’ with your hookups for longer than that.”

I smile. “Maybe they are love notes, after all.”

“And that!” He points his finger at me. “That dopey-ass grin. You’ve been going around wearing one for weeks. Our men have been scared shitless, thinking God knows what.”

“Why?”

“Because you have exactly two facial expressions, Rafael—agitated and furious. You never smile.”

“People change.”

“Yes.” He sighs and looks toward the horizon. “It was always just you and me against the world. I was pissed at her because I was afraid she’d get you killed. I still am. Petrov is going to go ballistic if you tell him you’ve been holding his daughter hostage.”

“Most likely. I’m sure he’ll be sending someone to put a bullet between my eyes the moment he finds out. I just hope it isn’t Belov.”

“Yeah. Vasilisa would never forgive you for killing her precious lunatic of an uncle.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let her go, Rafael. Make her stay. Offer her something in return.”

“Unfortunately, some things can only be attained for free.” I stand up and look at my brother. “I’m letting her go because she needs to make her own choice. Maybe she’ll decide to come back to me. Maybe not. But even if she doesn’t return, she’ll always be mine and no one else’s. I’ll make sure of it.”