12. Misha
MISHA
A week with Peyton, and three nights together made this one of the best weeks of my life. Of course, we’d tried something new last night, taking Peyton to the ballet.
It had been a wonderful night, made even better by our interlude in the limo on the way home.
Making Peyton come in new and different ways was quickly becoming my favorite obsession. I could live between her legs, fall asleep with her taste on my tongue, and never once wake with a regret.
Even now, hours later, I couldn’t forget the smell of leather and her perfume mixing in the confined space.
The city has flown past the windows, and she’d braced her hands against the seat as the car took a corner, laughing and breathless before the sound dissolved into something else entirely.
Lights had shone on her face, and not for the first time, I’d understood that Peyton might be the end of me.
She’d proven herself quick-witted last week, and again last night when she commented on the ballet with enough professional knowledge to leave all three of us gaping.
If only she saw her body with the same self-worth as her confidence in her mind.
She had no idea how appealing she was, mind, heart, body, and soul.
Her body seemed to be the only one she struggled with.
I’d picked up on it a few times, but it had been more evident last night when she constantly picked at the dress and tried to keep her arms over her stomach.
I’d noticed it before last night. Weeks ago, she’d worn a green dress to the office, and she’d tugged on the hem all day, always when she thought no one was looking.
Once, she’d reached for something on the top shelf of the supply closet, and the dress had ridden up.
She’d yanked it down with what sounded like a curse that ended with her swearing she’d never wear a dress above the knee again. I’d wanted to say something, but I hadn’t known what might help.
I’d never known a woman who didn’t flaunt her body or try to rub it in our faces all the time.
Her sexuality showed up in the bedroom, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she had no idea her effect on us.
We were privileged, the only ones privy to Peyton’s sexual glory.
I would not have it any other way.
I understood why she wanted to keep things professional in the office.
Much to my dismay, I enjoyed the playfulness of trying not to give in to my urges while watching her work.
It teased me, prompting me to return the favor when we were together outside of work.
Like last night. It had started with a look on the drive home, then progressed to holding her in my lap, her body bent toward Leo in the opposite seat, while I railed my cock into her.
She’d made such delicious sounds, all those little whimpers and cries, her fingers clawing into the thick leather as she sought her release.
We’d painted the inside of the limo with our pleasure and coated Peyton’s thighs with our cum.
The agony of keeping my hands off her at work turned into nights where I did nothing but caress her, making our time together so much sweeter.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, revealing Peyton sitting behind her desk.
If we didn’t fuck her on a desk soon, I might have to buy one for the playroom.
Viktor had more fantasies than he’d admitted, and I could see the appeal of using a desk as a fucking mat. One with just the right height to bend her over.
“Good morning, Sir.” Peyton’s smile widened, her eyes going soft.
I matched the grin. “Good morning, Miss Stirling. Have I missed any messages?”
“Not this morning. But it’s still early.” Her voice had a huskiness to it this morning, and I’d bet my left nut it was from how much she begged and screamed last night.
Viktor was on a mission to make all of her fantasies come to life, and she kept creating more. Especially ones that ended with us teasing her mercilessly. She loved the chase, the climb to the climax.
My cock hardened just thinking about it. About her.
“Have a wonderful day.” I sauntered past her desk, not slowing as we shared a look. My smile turned wicked, one side lifting in that way she’d said made her stomach flutter.
She pressed a hand to her belly and rolled her eyes.
Yes. We definitely needed a dress up and have a ‘fuck the secretary’ scenario soon.
Until then, work demanded my attention.
I settled in my leather chair and turned on my computer, inputting the password I changed every other day.
Seconds later, after scanning the incoming shipments, I let out a loud curse, my fist thumping the desk hard enough to rattle the stack of folders next to my mouse.
I stormed into the hallway. “Hold my calls.”
Peyton’s eyes went wide, the phone she held to her ear dropping an inch before she caught it and returned it to its place. “Yes, Sir.”
I was starting to understand Viktor’s obsession with that phrase, but it would have to wait.
I marched to the end of the hall, knocked once on Leo’s door, and barged in.
Viktor stood three feet away from the desk, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. “The investment has a significantly high potential.”
Leo nodded, ignoring me until he and Viktor concluded their conversation.
I let their words swirl over my head. They knew all about that sort of thing. I never would. Didn’t care to know about investments. I cared about security and keeping what we had under lock and key.
Finally, Leo flicked his fingers in my direction. I used to hate when he did that until I learned he wasn’t being dismissive or trying to make me feel insignificant.
It was his way of showing that I had his complete attention. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, adopting the military precision that had been hammered into me and ignoring the bite of anger flooding my blood. “We have a situation with Anton Pravchenko.”
“What now?” Leo’s brows puckered. He smoothed the line away with a press from his thumb.
I ground my teeth and pinched my inner wrist to keep from exploding.
What I wanted to say rearranged itself into clear, concise words.
“The last shipment of drugs we were smuggling in has been compromised. I have no doubt it is Anton’s meddling.
The signature is the same as last month, the missing shipment taken at the exact same hour. ”
Leo stood and moved to the window. Unlike his father, Leo took his time before choosing an action.
Viktor and I waited. It was all we could do. Yes, we were the triad, and it took all three of us to keep the place running as it should, but Leo held the final say. He was the one we looked to for decisions of this magnitude.
Could I go off on my own and pound Anton’s men into the ground to prove a point? Yes. But I would only do so under Leo’s orders.
Leo locked his arms behind his back and stared out the window for several moments. “Do you know who is taking them? The exact person responsible?”
“No.” I shook my head, though I doubted he watched my reflection in the glass. “I have been looking, but so far, they have evaded me.” I felt the weight of that settle deep and cold in my stomach. I’d failed Leo in this one thing, and I hated myself for it.
Finding one man should not be so difficult.
“Anton is up to his usual games.” Leo turned and paced to his desk. “As head of the rival Bratva, I expect nothing less of him, but this grows tiresome.”
It was not the first or even the dozenth shipment Anton had stolen from us.
We had retaliated on multiple occasions. All of them, in fact. Leo did not let any infraction against our brotherhood stand. And if there were a board of tally marks showing our battle against one another, our brotherhood had done far more to Anton than he to us.
It was the way of things.
Leo stopped at the corner of his desk.
What would Peyton think of this version of Leo? Gone was the warm man who crooned to her. This was our truth. We were cold and unyielding. This could not change.
“Send a message.” Leo drilled me with a look that locked my knees in place. “Make it a good one.”
“Yes, sir.” My hands bunched into fists. They would be bruised and bloodied by nightfall. As the Petrov Bratva’s enforcer, this was my reality. Soft was not meant to be in my vocabulary. They had beaten the word out of me as they killed my mother.
To accept anything less would lead to ruin. We were Bratva. We did not kneel, nor did we succumb to such weakness as love.