Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
ANYA
E rik tells me we’re going to a masquerade ball.
“For what? And why?” I ask over the breakfast table. Ever since he told me he was sorry, I’ve found that being around him is easier. More steady. Less worried all the time.
“It’s a charity function. It’s a good way to promote a good cause and spend my money without the police looking in my direction.”
I stare at him a moment longer. “You mean money laundering, don’t you? You money launder through this charity organization.”
He flashes me a grin before turning back to his phone. “We don’t need to get into the specifics. It’s just good that I show up. And I thought it could be fun. Who doesn’t love a masquerade ball?”
“Why do I get this sense that this could go wrong?”
“Nothing will go wrong, Anya. If anything does, I’ll be there to protect you.”
“Because you care about me?”
He only smiles once more before getting up from the table. It’s not an answer, and it probably never will be. But I think I’m starting to crack Erik’s hard shell, which gives me hope.
I find multiple dresses laid out in our bedroom. All evening gowns. All expensive. All gorgeous. And of course, all in my size.
I land on a red gown that hugs my body and flares out slightly around my ankles. It’s sleeveless and shows a bit of cleavage while still being classy. A golden eye mask matches perfectly with it.
When I come downstairs, I find Erik waiting in the foyer wearing a black suit and a red mask over his eyes.
“How does this work as a masquerade ball if I know who you are?” I ask.
He doesn’t say a word until I’m standing right before him. “You look delectable tonight, Anya. I could eat you right up.”
I gulp. I don’t doubt he could.
The masquerade ball is being held at a museum. Tables decorate the floors while art decorates the walls. A large podium at the front of the main gallery has a microphone on it, ready for people to give speeches.
The air in the room is electric with at least a hundred people already here, wearing masks, drinking champagne, and flirting with each other.
I know better than to get drunk tonight like I last time. I’m not in the mood to be spanked.
Erik keeps my arm snuggly fitted in his own. All I can think about is his touch—how it makes my skin feel like it’s on fire. How I want to feel more.
He’s barely touched me since the vibrator incident. Little touches to my back and arms and things like that. A small kiss here and there, but nothing more. He awoke something inside me with the pain and pleasure he showed me.
I want more, but I’ll have to be the one to go for it, and I’m not sure I can fully give myself over to him. To do that would be to give Erik complete power over me.
“So, what does this charity do?” I ask as we meander around the room.
“Raises funds for the arts.”
“Not kids with cancer?”
“Even I’m not going to steal money from kids with cancer.”
I actually smile at that. “So, you have a line. What are you not willing to cross?”
“I don’t beat women, as you know.”
“You only spank them.”
His grin is dangerous. Mixed with his red mask, it makes him look like the devil. “True. I’m not opposed to torturing women if they deserve it, but I don’t make a point of beating women if they don’t. I don’t hurt kids. That’s a line I won’t cross.”
“Nadia—”
“Isn’t a kid. Yes, she’s young, but she’ll need to learn to grow up fast in this world. The Bratva isn’t kind to women, and she’ll be eighteen soon. It’s just the way it is. Now, let’s not talk about your sister. It only makes you angry and stressed. I’d rather have a fun night tonight. What do you think?” He holds his hand out to me.
My feelings for Erik are complicated. A part of me still hates him for not helping Nadia, yet a part of me is drawn to him. I like it when he holds me. I like it when he touches me.
Maybe I shouldn’t, but it’s too late now to stop.
Erik is my future, I’m beginning to realize. Even if I can help Nadia one day, I’ll still be bound to Erik. She might be able to find freedom, but I won’t.
And being with Erik isn’t all bad. He gives me space a lot. He doesn’t push me—except when he wanted information out of me. He’s not as bad as I thought he’d be.
Can I let myself like him? It would make my life a million times easier if I did. If I just gave in and let myself feel with him. Because the truth is I’m tired of the constant fighting.
I just want to feel safe for once.
Slowly, I take Erik’s hand and let him pull me toward the dance floor in the middle of the room. Other couples are swaying together, looking content in each other’s arms. Maybe that can be Erik and me someday.
If only.
He slides his hand down to my low back and presses our chests together. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You might’ve mentioned it,” I respond in a breathless voice.
“You do look beautiful.” He leans in to my ear. “I could make you mine right here in front of all these people.”
“I don’t think they’d appreciate that.”
“Always witty. That’s one thing I like about you.”
I glance up at him. “Only one thing?”
“You have a chip on your shoulder. It can make it hard to like you.”
“Pot meet kettle.”
He laughs as he draws me in closer. Every part of my body he touches, from my low back to my hand, burns in the best way. “What can I do to make you like me?”
“Do you actually care? Because I thought you didn’t care at what I liked.”
“Touché. I’m starting to realize I wouldn’t mind if you could stand me. If you didn’t always glare at me, even though I do find it amusing. I’m starting to realize … I like you, Anya. More than just as a possession. I’m starting to like you for you.”
My breath gets caught in my throat. No, no, no. Erik can’t be talking like this. If he’s starting to like me, then … what does that mean for me?
“Don’t you want to like me?” he asks.
“I mean, it would be easier to like you than to hate you. But if you really want to know how to get me to like you, you already know the answer. Save Nadia from my father. It’s that simple.”
“Then it seems we’re at an impasse.”
“Aren’t we always?”
His smirk is dangerous, and his eyes are dark behind his mask. It’s like I’m looking into the eyes of a predator.
“Come with me.” He takes me hand and walks us out of the main room to a more secluded hallway. Romantic paintings of the English countryside line the walls.
“What do you think of these paintings?” he asks.
“I think they’re beautiful. What else is there to a painting?”
“There’s a lot more to a painting, Anya.” He keeps his eyes glued to the painting in front of us. Two kids run across an open field, kites blowing behind them. “There’s always something beneath the surface. What do you really see when you look at this?”
I turn back to the painting with a sigh and try to make out what Erik is saying. This contemplative version of him is new. It’s not unpleasant, I’ll admit.
“I see …” The kids in the painting cause a pang in my chest. I hold my hand to my heart. I can feel Erik watching me through his mask. Somehow, it makes the moment even more vulnerable.
“I see loneliness,” I admit.
“How so?” he asks softly.
“These two kids are on their own. While they seem like they’re having fun, they’re not free. They’re just children. They need to return home to their parents, or if they don’t have any parents, then they need to return to a life that isn’t made for children. They don’t get to just be … children.”
“Like you.”
I gasp and turn to him. “What do you mean?”
“Your father beat you, Anya. Your mother died when you were ten. You had to take care of Nadia. Did you ever get to just … be a child? Get to be free?”
His words hit me in my core. I blink back the sudden tears.
“No,” I whisper. “I never got to be free. I’m still not free.”
“Because you’re married to me. But we can change that.”
“Being married to you?”
He laughs slightly. “Don’t get your hopes up that much. I’ve only lived my life with freedom. I kill who I want. Hurt who I want. Make more money than most people can even fathom. I have everything.”
“So, then, why do you seem unhappy?”
“You think I’m unhappy?” He stands closer to me, his fingers skimming against my hand.
“I do. I’m not allowed to be happy. My father made that his mission in life. But you, the man who has everything, is not any more happy than I am. Why is that?”
“Maybe because I’ve been alone most of my life, too.”
We stare at each other behind our masks. They act as a shield, a way to protect us from what we’re saying, but we’re still saying it anyway. The truth is Erik and I are having a moment.
And I don’t want it to end.
“You asked me how you can make me happy?”
He nods and slips his fingers through mine. “Yes.”
“Don’t treat me with coldness. I’m not sure how much more of it I can take.”
“I’ll offer you a deal. I’ll try not to be so cold if you agree to give me a chance. Forget everything I said about marrying you for practical reasons. I did all that, yes. But things have changed. What I’m feeling right now, Anya, isn’t practical.”
“What are you feeling?”
He leans down so his lips are right above my own. “I’m feeling like I want to kiss you.”
Once we cross this line, there’s no going back.
I may hate Erik still, but I have to admit I don’t hate him all the time. I might even like him sometimes in a sick, twisted way.
“So, kiss me,” I say, challenging him.
Erik grabs my face and presses his lips to mine. It’s a little rough. I know what that means: He’s claiming me as his own.
I clutch his shoulders as he walks us back to the wall. He presses me against it and kisses me harder. It’s a strange thought that this man is someone who has seen all of me, but we’ve never truly kissed like a husband and wife before.
I gasp when his lips trail over my jaw to my neck, and I find myself drawing him in closer to me.
A couple walks by us, whispering to themselves, safely anonymous behind their masks.
“Come on,” Erik says into my ear. “I need more of you. A kiss isn’t enough. I’ve shown you pain, Anya, but let me show you pleasure.”
Arousal courses through my body. There’s no point denying it.
I’m tired of fighting Erik. I just want to give in and let myself feel an ounce of happiness.
So, I nod. “Take me somewhere.”
He seems to know exactly where he’s going, and we end up in a small office on the second floor of the museum.
“Who’s office is this?”
“Does it matter?” he growls, grabbing my waist. “I just need to taste you again.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against his body, and I melt into his touch. For once, it feels amazing to let myself feel pleasure. Just pure pleasure.
Erik leans me back against the desk while his hand slips down to my inner thigh. I gasp when his entire palm cups me between my legs.
I let my hips gently roll against his hand. “Oh!”
“See how good pleasure can feel when you just give in to it?” His hands scrabble down to the ends of my dress and push it up over my hips. His fingers slip under my panties and touch me skin to skin. “Just like that.”
I moan softly as his fingers play with my clit. I’m so sensitive. I’m so raw. I’m so awake.
I can’t believe this is truly happening. That Erik is pleasuring me with his fingers at a charity event, and I’m letting him do it. A part of me feels ashamed.
I flinch for a moment, tensing.
“Get out of your head,” he growls into my ear, his thumb pressing perfectly against my clit, making my hips jerk forward. “Just feel, Anya.”
I grip his arms. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Yes, you can. Just feel how good this is.” He rubs me harder, his fingers getting wet from my body. It feels so perfect, but I can’t stop thinking about how I shouldn’t be doing this. How I’m giving in to a monster.
“I can’t,” I sob feeling both pain in my heart and pleasure in my body.
“You can.” He slides his finger down to my entrance. “Let me in. Feel this.” His finger slips into me, and my inner walls immediately clench down on it.
“Relax, Anya. Relax.”
“How can I?”
“I’m your husband. We’re not doing anything wrong. You know that.”
“It’s not that. It’s because of who you are.”
“I know.” He presses his forehead against mine. “But I’m not the only Bratva man who has done bad things. We live in a bad world. And someday, Anya, you might even do a bad thing. So, don’t worry about that. Just let go. Let me touch you. Let me taste you.” He pulls his finger out of me and licks it. “You taste fucking delicious.”
My cheeks burn hot, yet my body burns even hotter. Without even thinking about it, my legs open wider.
Erik’s smile is smug.
Gripping my hips, he sets me on the desk and kneels before me.
“What are you doing?” I breathe out.
“You don’t know? You really are an innocent Bratva woman.” His hands grip my thighs and open them wider. I don’t fight it.
The cool air in the room brushes against my vulva, making me shiver. My inner core is throbbing for release.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you.” Then he plants his face between my legs and runs his tongue over my nub.
I gasp so loudly, I’m sure someone at the party can hear it. And yet, it’s just Erik and me.
My thighs clamp down on his shoulders. His tongue is relentless as it runs over my clit and down to my folds before finally reaching my entrance.
I shiver when his tongue presses into me for just a moment. This is all too much. Somehow, it’s even more intense than when he used the vibrator on me.
The vibrator was technically more powerful in causing me pain, but this moment—with Erik’s tongue on me—is more intense because it’s just him. It’s his tongue touching my most intimate area. It’s him doing this to me, not a toy.
And I’m letting him do it.
My head drops back as he runs his tongue back up to my clit. “I can’t,” I gasp.
“You can.” He flicks and licks and circles my clit around just so. My hips roll up against his face. I have no choice but to do it. I need the release.
I need Erik to make me feel good, truly, for the first time since we’ve met.
“Oh!” I cry out as my release washes over me. My hands slam into the desk behind me, barely catching myself.
Erik continues to run his tongue over me until I stop trembling, and even then, he kisses all along my inner thighs. He inhales deeply. “You smell delicious. I could eat you out forever.” He stands up and fixes his mask. “But we should probably head back now. There’s people I have to greet.”
“What did you do to me?” I whisper.
When he leans down toward me, I can smell myself on his lips. “I showed you pleasure. I figure that’s one way to get you to like me.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
My body sings for Erik to touch me all over again, and if I’m being honest, I want to touch him, too. I want to feel a connection between us.
I want to not feel so alone. The weight of the world is on my shoulders, and it would be nice to have someone help me carry it.
But that requires fully trusting Erik, and I’m still not sure I’m there yet.
“Come on,” he says with a smirk, helping me off the desk. He bends down and pulls my panties back up for me, making me blush all over again as my body lights on fire.
“There.” He straightens my dress. “You look perfect.”
“So do you,” I admit.
“Why, Anya, is that the first compliment you’ve given me?” He skims the backs of his fingers along my face. “I’ll take it.”
My legs shake as we head back down to the charity event. Even more people have arrived by now. It would be so easy to get lost in a crowd like this. My eyes find the entrance to the museum.
It would be so easy to just walk right out of here without Erik noticing.
But … I’m not sure I want to leave. I think I might be having too much fun.
“Here.” Erik offers me a champagne flute.
Instead of running, I turn to face him and take the champagne. “Thank you.” I mean it in more ways than one.
ERIK
I recognize Sergei even with his mask on.
I make my way over to him as Anya sits at our table, eating. I think I wore her out and made her famished. That idea makes me smile.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I say in greeting.
Sergei’s smile is tight as it always is. “I see Anya is with you.”
“Of course. She’s my wife after all. How is Nadia? Not beating her, I hope.”
“Of course not. Nadia is my good daughter. There’s no reason for me to hurt her. As long as she stays in line.”
“Of course. And how is Ivan doing?”
“Better. He’ll be in a cast for a couple of months, but he’ll be fine. Still annoyed with you, but he’ll come around. He’s a good man. He knows what’s best for him.”
“Of course, he does. Ivan isn’t stupid.”
“Look how easy it is to get people to like you when they’re afraid of you,” a voice from behind me says. It’s a voice I know well.
I spin around and come face to face with my enemy. “Dante.” Even through the black mask he wears, I know it’s him. “What the fuck are you doing here? This is a charity event. Last I checked, you don’t donate to this charity.”
“That’s because you own it and launder money through it.” He nods at Sergei next to me. “Hello. You’re … Sergei Belov, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Is your daughter around anywhere?” He makes a show of looking around the room. “I thought she was positively exquisite when I saw her last.”
“That’s my wife you’re talking about,” I growl.
“Oh, you thought I meant Anya? No. I meant the other one. Her sister.”
“Her sister is only seventeen.” I state.
Dante takes a sip of his champagne. “Shame. I thought she was older. Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait until she is.”
“To do what?” Sergei asks.
“To make her mine.”
Sergei explodes forward and grabs Dante by the jacket. “You will not go anywhere near my daughter.”
“Funny. Seeing as you gave your other daughter to a man like Erik.”
I grab Sergei by the back of his jacket and yank him away. “Not here. You’re causing a scene.” I can’t risk someone calling the police. I really fucking hate it when the police even glance in the direction of my endeavors.
“Nadia is promised to Viktor Smirnov when she comes of age,” I inform Dante. “And if you know Viktor, you know he’s a reserved man but a powerful one. You will not go after Nadia. Not when this war is between us.”
Dante straightens his jacket. “That’s never stopped you from using women to your benefit before. I promise you, Erik, I have no desire to go after Anya. I don’t care for redheads.”
“Don’t go after Nadia,” I growl. “You’ll only make things worse.”
“Isn’t that what I want? I want to start a war with you, Erik. Well, mostly I just want to kill you. Get you out of my territory. I heard you tried to make a deal with the Cartel? I work with them. Not you. Back off, or I’ll be forced to kill you at your precious little charity event.”
“Is that why you sent your hitmen after me? They suck at their jobs, Dante.”
Dante smiles. “Don’t worry about their skills. They’ll succeed in bringing you to me, and I’ll end you then. You have fun torturing people, but you seem to forget I’m also a skilled torturer. I want you so fucking paranoid that you’re losing your mind by the time my men come for you.”
“That won’t happen. So, if you want to end things, let’s just leave this place and fight it out now. Wouldn’t that be easier? Save everyone else the trouble?”
Dante nods behind me. “Your wife is approaching.”
I turn around and grab Anya’s arm, then speak quietly into her ear so only she can hear. “Go back to your seat.”
“Erik? What’s going on?”
“It’s Dante. He’s right behind me. Just go back to your seat. I’ll come get you.”
“Do as your husband tells you,” Sergei hisses at her.
“Nice to see you, too, Dad.”
He only scowls in response.
Anya looks behind me at Dante, who waggles his fingers at her. “What are you doing here?”
“Anya,” I growl, but of course, she ignores me and squares off against Dante.
“Well?”
Dante chuckles. “You are a spitfire. That’s what I’ve heard. I’m just here to keep Erik on his toes. Oh, and Anya, if you could put in a good word with your sister for me, that would be great.”
“Go,” I tell him.
“Of course.” Dante saunters away like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Anya whips around to stare at me. “What was he talking about?”
“It’s nothing. Dante just talking a big game. You have nothing to worry about.”
She pulls away from me, shaking her head. “I don’t believe you. You look … frightened.”
I stand up straighter. “I’m not frightened.”
“I don’t believe you,” she says again and walks back to our table.
“I’m sorry about my daughter,” Sergei cuts in. “Always a problem, that one.”
But I just ignore him because … Anya might be right. Dante never used to scare me, but now, I have something to lose.
And that’s more frightening than anything.