Chapter 20 - Abe
I paced my room like a caged animal, my phone clutched in my hand. I dialed Pippa's number for the dozenth time. The call went unanswered, yet again.
"Damn it, Pippa. Pick up," I growled. When she didn’t, I threw the phone on the couch.
Minutes later, my eyes darted to the screen, hoping for a miracle—a missed call, a text, anything. But there was nothing. Just like the void she'd left in my chest when she'd walked away.
Why the hell didn't I stop her? I was too shocked, too confused. I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and making it worse and so I chose silence. Stupid, stupid me. I should have run down, thrown myself in front of the car, and truly told her how I felt. I should have stopped the guards from letting her leave until she understood she had this all wrong. The scenarios gnawed at me, twisting my gut into knots. I'd let her slip through my fingers, and now… now she was gone.
"Fuck this," I muttered, grabbing my keys.
The drive to Pippa's apartment was a blur of neon lights and honking horns. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel as I weaved through traffic, my mind racing faster than the car.
What would I say when I saw her? The words tumbled through my head: I'm sorry. I was an idiot. Please give me another chance. But none of them seemed right. None of them could capture the desperation clawing at my chest.
As I pulled up to her building, a new determination settled over me. I'd make her listen. I'd make her understand. Because the thought of losing her—of never seeing those gorgeous eyes flash with anger or soften with laughter—was more than I could bear.
I took the elevator up to her floor, my heart pounding. This was it. No more games. No more walls. Just us, face to face, with everything laid bare.
My fist raised, ready to knock, when a chilling thought stopped me cold. What if she wasn't there? What if she'd already decided I wasn't worth the trouble?
"No," I growled, pushing the doubt aside. "She has to be here. She has to listen."
I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. And I waited, praying to a God I'd long since stopped believing in that she'd open the door.
I knocked again, harder this time, my knuckles stinging against the wood. Silence. The kind of silence that feels like a punch to the gut.
"Pippa?" I called out, my voice rough with tension. "It's Abe. We need to talk."
Nothing. Not even the faintest sound of movement from inside. A cold dread started to seep into my bones.
I tried the handle, finding it unlocked. The door swung open to reveal… emptiness. The apartment was bare, stripped of all personality. No cushions or photo frames. No stacks of papers on the coffee table. No sign of Pippa at all.
"Fuck," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
I stalked through the vacant rooms as if I could conjure her presence by sheer force of will. But the truth was undeniable. She was gone. Moved out without a word, without a trace.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. I'd screwed up. I'd pushed her away, and now she was slipping through my fingers like smoke.
***
The next morning, I drove to the casino in a daze, my mind churning with possibilities. I hadn’t slept well all night. Where could she have gone? Why hadn't she told me she was going to move out of her own place?
As I strode across the casino floor, my eyes scanned the crowd automatically. And then, like a mirage in the desert, I saw her.
Pippa stood near the high-stakes tables, her light brown curls cascading over her shoulders. She wore one of those pencil skirts that hugged her curves in all the right ways, paired with a crisp blouse. Even from a distance, I could see the familiar flash of red on her lips.
My heart rate kicked up a notch. She was here. She came in to work. I could still talk to her. A wave of relief passed through my nerves.
I cut through the sea of gamblers and cocktail waitresses, my eyes locked on Pippa like a heat-seeking missile. She hadn't spotted me yet, thank god. I know if she had, she would be walking away right about now.
As I closed in, I saw her smile at something a colleague said. That smile—the one that lit up her whole face and made her eyes sparkle—was like a knife twisting in my gut. Because I knew, deep down, that I might never see it directed at me again.
But I had to try. I had to make this right.
"Pippa," I called out, my voice carrying over the din of slot machines and excited chatter.
She turned, those bottle-green eyes widening as they met mine.
Her smile faltered for a split second before she regained her composure. She straightened her spine and stared at me, that smile no longer on her pretty face.
"Mr. Ustinov," she said, her voice cool and professional. "Is there something I can help you with?"
The formality stung, but I wasn't about to let her see how much. "Cut the crap, Pippa. We need to talk."
Her eyes darted around, probably looking for an escape route. "I'm working, Abe. This isn't the time or place."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Then when is? You've been dodging my calls all night and morning."
A flicker of guilt crossed her face, quickly replaced by determination. "I've been busy."
"Busy moving apartments without telling me?" I couldn't keep the accusation out of my voice.
Pippa's eyes flashed. "I wasn't aware I needed your permission to make personal decisions."
My frustration boiled over. "Dammit, Pippa. That's not what this is about and you know it.”
She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. "I'm not running, Abe. I'm… prioritizing."
"Prioritizing what?"
"My safety. My independence." Her voice was steady, but I caught the slight tremor in her hands. "I’m taking it into my own hands. I thought it was better to find a new address, you know, just in case someone’s still looking.”
The words hit me like a sucker punch. Did I really not deserve to know that? "I thought… I thought you would have said something about that, Pippa. I would have helped you do that."
Her expression softened for a moment, and I saw a glimpse of the vulnerability she usually kept hidden. "I’m staying with a friend for now. She’ll help me find a new place.”
I wanted to argue, to tell her that I could be simple for her. But the words caught in my throat.
Pippa glanced at her watch, her green eyes widening in mock surprise. "Oh, would you look at the time? I've got a meeting in five minutes." She took a step back, already half-turning away.
I clenched my jaw, seeing right through her flimsy excuse. But what could I do? Drag her back? Force her to talk to me? That wasn't my style, no matter how much I wanted answers.
"Sure," I growled, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Wouldn't want to keep whoever it is waiting."
She nodded and I watched her walk away, her curvy figure accentuated by that damn pencil skirt she loved so much. My fists clenched at my sides, a cocktail of anger and helplessness churning in my gut. How had I, Abrahim fucking Ustinov, become this pathetic? Pining after a woman who couldn't get away from me fast enough?
The next few weeks were torture. Pippa was everywhere and nowhere at once. I'd catch glimpses of her across the casino floor. But the moment I'd try to approach, she'd vanish like smoke.
One day, I cornered her by the elevators. "Pippa, we need to talk."
"Sorry, Abe," she said, not meeting my eyes. "I'm swamped with paperwork." The doors dinged open and she slipped inside.
Another time, I found her in the break room. "Got a minute?"
She grabbed her coffee and headed for the door. "Not now. The quarter-end reports are killing me."
Each encounter left me more frustrated, more determined.
One night late, I'd finally had enough. This game of cat and mouse was ending today.
I spotted Pippa heading toward the high-roller room, her green eyes focused on the tablet in her hands. Without hesitation, I strode across the casino floor, my jaw clenched tight. The crowd parted before me—they always did.
Just as Pippa reached for the door handle, I caught her wrist. "We need to talk. Now."
Her eyes widened, defiance flashing across her face. "Abe, I—”
I didn't give her a chance to argue. I pulled her into a nearby private lounge, the door clicking shut behind us.
Pippa yanked her arm free, her cheeks flushed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What am I doing?" I scoffed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm trying to have a goddamn conversation with you. Something you've been avoiding for weeks."
She crossed her arms, her curves accentuated by her fitted blouse. "I've been busy. Some of us actually have work to do around here."
"Bullshit," I spat. "You've been running from me, and we both know it. Why?"
Pippa's eyes narrowed. "Maybe because you're an arrogant ass who thinks he can just snap his fingers and get whatever he wants?"
I stepped closer, towering over her. "And maybe you're a stubborn brat who's too scared to admit what she really wants."
"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes. "Enlighten me, Abe. What exactly do I want?"
The air crackled between us. I could smell her perfume, sweet and intoxicating. It was making it hard to think straight. "You want me," I growled. "Just as much as I want you."
“But you don’t want me,” she said angrily.
"Bullshit," I growled. "Try again."
Her carefully constructed walls began to crumble when she realized that there was no escape. "What do you want me to say?" she whispered. "That I'm scared? That I know you'll get bored of me eventually? That I can't bear to watch you realize I'm not enough?"
My eyes widened and I reached out without thinking, cupping her cheeks in my hand. Did she really just say that? “You can’t be serious!” I said in protest.
"I'm not one of your perfect, stick-thin supermodels, Abe. I'm just… me. Curvy, stubborn, workaholic me. And sooner or later, you're going to wake up and wonder what the hell you're doing with someone like me."
Fury ran through my veins, my voice rising to a thunderous roar. "Are you fucking kidding me, Pippa? You think I give a damn about some skinny model type?" I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. "Christ, woman, have you been blind this whole time?"
She flinched at my anger and fought back hard. "Blind to what, Abe? Your reputation? The way women throw themselves at you wherever we go?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oh, I've seen plenty."
"Then you've seen everything except what matters!" I stepped closer, towering over her. "You think I'd risk everything—my time away from work, my family's privacy—for just anyone?"
"Your precious Bratva," she spat and then flinched, surprised by the venom in her own voice. "That's all that really matters to you, isn't it?"
My eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare," I growled, taking her wrist for she didn’t give me her hand. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed to keep you safe."
"I never asked for your protection!" she shouted, her composure shattering completely. "I was fine on my own before you came along with your arrogance and your stupid, perfect face!"
"Perfect face?" I barked out a harsh laugh. "That's rich coming from the woman who's had me wrapped around her little finger since day one."
She blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. "What are you talking about?"
"You," I snarled, jabbing a finger at her. "With your curves and your sass and that damn red lipstick. You think I could ever get bored of you? You drive me fucking crazy, Pippa!"
Pippa's eyes widened at my outburst, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Crazy… in what way?" Her voice came out in a small, uncertain whisper.
I let out a frustrated growl, my fingers itching to pull her closer. "In every way possible, Pippa. You're all I can think about, dream about. Do you have any idea how much you consume me?"
She took a hesitant step forward, and the silence between us fell so loud that I swear I could hear the air heat between us. Before she could say another word to ruin the moment, I closed the distance between us, and cupped the nape of her neck, my lips crashing onto hers in a desperate kiss.
Pippa gasped, her body tensing for a split second before melting into me. Her lips yielded to me, those same lips that were on fire the last time we spoke. I cupped her face, my fingers tangling in her hair as I deepened the kiss.
Pippa's hands found their way to my chest, her nails digging into my shirt. I couldn't tell if she was trying to push me away or pull me closer. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the taste of her, the feel of her curves pressed against me.
I broke the kiss, both of us panting. "Tell me you don't want this," I challenged, my voice husky.
Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen from our kiss. "I… we shouldn't," she whispered, but her body betrayed her words as she leaned into me.
"Fuck shouldn't," I growled, lifting her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her across the room, my lips never leaving hers. I needed more. Needed all of her.
I gently threw her on the couch, scattering cushions to the floor, and jumped on top of her. My hands reached for her shirt, ripping off the buttons and pulling down her bra, the sight of her bare breasts hitting me right in the cock and she clumsily went for my belt. Fabric tore, buttons flew, and our clothes littered the room as if caught in a storm. Every touch was electric, every kiss ignited a wildfire between us. Pippa's nails scored lines down my back, urging me on as I trailed hot kisses along her jawline.
Her breath hitched with each of my touches, her body arching into mine when I parted her legs and flicked my tongue across her slit.
She was ready, fucking desperate for me, and I was going to give her everything she wanted and more. Leaning down, I began to lick her folds, starting gently and increasing the pressure as she cried out in pleasure below me. Her moans spurred me on, driving me wild with desire.
Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer with every thrust of my tongue. I could sense her walls trembling under my touch, her entire body quivering in anticipation as she neared climax. When I felt her muscles clenching around my tongue, I knew she was close.
Easing back just a bit, I looked into her eyes. They were filled with such hunger.
I kicked off my boxers and positioned myself above her, my cock hitting her entrance. She was still trembling and I was so fucking hot for her, that I wanted her to finish her previous orgasm on my cock. Without warning, I rammed into her.
“Abe!” she squealed like the sexiest thing alive, throwing back her head, her breasts rising in the air. My cock stretched her out and god, she felt like a fucking glove I never wanted to take off.
Her pleasured cries only drove me further, my thrusts became faster and harder. Each slap of my hips against her ass echoed through the room. I could feel her walls constricting around me, egging me on. It was too much.
Yet, not enough.
My hands roamed her body, memorizing every curve, every dip, until it rested on her waist. I squeezed her tight, pulled out, and rammed back into her. The couch jerked back an inch from how hard I did.
I was lost in the heat of the moment; I couldn't stop myself from going rough. She never complained. Our skin slapped together in a rhythm that matched our beating hearts. I needed to take control, take her hard, take her all.
I pulled back, drinking in the sight of her. Flushed cheeks, mussed hair, lips parted in anticipation. She was fucking beautiful, and she was mine. At least for this moment.
Pippa's eyes never wavered, never faltered, even as I gripped her hips and started slamming into her wet core with brutal force. She met my eyes, and there it was—hunger, need.
It filled me with this unbelievable sense of power, knowing she wanted this as much as I did.
"Tell me you want this," I demanded, needing to hear the words.
"I want you," she moaned through raspy breaths. "God help me, but I do."
“Fuck, Pippa,” relief flooded through me like a powerful wave. “It was hell without you.”
She moaned as I tilted my hips, hitting the right spot. Her hands reached for my chest, her fingers digging into the skin and her lips parted as she took in small gasps of air.
“Oh my god, Abe,” she growled. “I might cum.”
“Cum for me, Pippa. Cum, Baby,” I urged, my cock throbbing so damn hard I was afraid it might burst. I too, was on the edge.
Suddenly, Pippa's hand pressed against my chest, gently but firmly pushing me back. Her bottle-green eyes, usually so guarded, now brimmed with vulnerability.
"Abe," she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. "What is this? What are we doing?"
I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. Fuck. I wasn't prepared for this. Give me a physical fight any day, but emotions? That was unfamiliar territory.
"We're… connecting," I managed, my voice gruff. I tried to lean in for another kiss and gently slide my cock back into her, but Pippa held me at bay.
"No, I mean…" She bit her lip, hesitating. "What am I to you? Is this just… physical?"
The tension in the room thickened. I could feel my palms starting to sweat. How the hell was I supposed to answer that? While we were having sex. Really? I'd never been in this situation before. Women came and went, no strings attached. But Pippa… she was different. Special. And that terrified me.
There were no words to explain how I felt. They would all fall short.
“I … need you to tell me what I want to hear, Abe. Don’t you understand?”
Of course I understood. I needed her to tell me what I wanted to, and she always did.
“Sweetheart,” I gently rolled my hips against hers and despite the strangeness of the moment, she thrust to meet me halfway. “Can’t you see how much I fucking want you? Can’t you see that I need you? Can't you feel the wildfire in my touch, hear the desperate heat in my voice? When you’re not around, all I want is to fucking hunt you down, pull you into a corner, rip off those pesky clothes. I need you, Pippa, like I need the very air I breathe.”
I watched as disappointment flickered across her face, her shoulders sagging slightly. Shit. That wasn't the right answer, was it?
"I see," Pippa murmured, her voice soft but laced with a determination that made my stomach clench. She gently pushed me off, and of course, I didn’t fight it.
"Wait," I said, reaching for her. "Where are you going? We're not done here."
Pippa stepped back, just out of my reach. The fire in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a resolute coolness that made me feel like I'd just lost something precious.
"I think we are, Abe," she said, her chin lifted defiantly. "I need more than just physical desire. I need… I deserve more than that."
I stood there, dumbstruck, and watched her put on her clothes in a haphazard rush.
I stood there, frozen in place, my mind reeling. “Pippa, let’s just talk it out,” I tried to tell her.
My fists clenched at my sides, frustration and regret coursing through me. She was already halfway to the door.
At the sound of my voice, she paused, turning to face me. Her green eyes, usually so warm, now held a steely resolve that made my chest tighten.
"Don't," she said, her voice firm but tinged with sadness. "Just… don't, Abe."
I took a step toward her, my hand outstretched. "Can we talk about this? I didn't mean to—"
"To what?" Pippa interrupted, her tone sharp. "To make me feel like I'm just another conquest? Another notch on your belt? Just a nice fuck?”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Is that really what she thought? Is that what I'd made her feel like?
"That's not what this is," I insisted, taking another step closer. “I didn’t mean for this to come across like that.”
Pippa held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. "I told you not to touch me anymore, Abe. I meant it."
I dropped my hand, feeling utterly helpless. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Standing there, watching Pippa's retreating form, I realized I'd never wanted anything—or anyone—more than I wanted her.
And I'd fucked it all up.
I watched her walk away, straightening her blouse and running a hand through her tousled hair, I felt a surge of panic. I wanted to call out, to stop her, to say something—anything—to make her stay. But the words wouldn't come. I stood there, silent and conflicted, as the door closed behind her with a soft click.
Fuck. What had I done?