Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
JULIAN
“What,” I bark into the phone when I see Sergei’s name on the screen.
“I want you to talk to Carson about allowing me into his casino,” Sergei says, making me scrub my hand over the back of my neck. “We’re family now. There’s a poker game I want in on.”
“I don’t run Carson’s business,” I reply, my voice hard as fuck. “Is that really why you’re calling me?”
“I gave you my daughter. The least you can do—”
I don’t let him finish. I hang up on the stupid son of a bitch. I already knew that he’s been trying to get in on card games at King of Spades. Carson told me a couple of days ago, just to keep me in the loop.
The old man has some audacity to think that I’d help him with literally anything.
He can go fuck himself.
I can hear my wife playing the piano from my office. The cast is off her left wrist now, but it doesn’t feel good enough to use it yet. I can tell that she’s playing with just one hand.
She’s been so frustrated and brokenhearted that she can’t enjoy the piano over the past month, and it’s just one more thing that I feel so fucking guilty about.
I miss my wife.
I have her here with me, and we talk and cuddle, but I haven’t fucked her since she’s been back. I wanted her to heal, not just physically but also emotionally. I needed her to feel all the emotions before I brought sex back into things.
And that’s not like me at all. I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Apparently, this is who I am when I’m in love. I had no idea.
With all the plans for the next few days set into motion, I stand from my desk and push my hands in my pockets as I walk out to where Natasha is. When she notices me, she stops playing immediately, and her face flushes.
“You don’t have to stop on my account.”
She nibbles that plump lower lip and stares down at the keys. “I wish I didn’t suck at this. I know I need to practice, but my hand doesn’t want to work the way it should.”
“We can find a physical therapist,” I tell her. “Dr. Asgood recommended that when we saw her last week.”
“I was hoping I could work on it myself, but I need help.” She looks up at me and shrugs a shoulder. “Let’s find someone.”
“I’ll make some calls.”
Natasha nods and slides over on the bench, inviting me to sit next to her. I’ll never deny this woman anything. She leans her head on my shoulder, making me grin as I kiss the top of her head.
“Will you play for me?” she asks quietly.
This has been our thing this past month. We sit here, sometimes late into the night, and I play for her. Everything from classical Bach to Taylor Swift. My girl loves a wide range of music.
“What do you want to hear, Angel?”
“Something fast and happy.”
I grin and start playing “All That Jazz” from Chicago, and Natasha starts to sing with the music, surprising me.
“You can play and sing? Add in gorgeous and smart as fuck. Jesus, what can’t you do, baby?”
“Cook,” she says between lines, making us both laugh.
Christ, it feels good to laugh with her.
When the last notes fade, my wife smiles up at me, and I can’t resist tipping her chin up so I can kiss her, sweetly at first, but it heats up quick, and I sink into the taste of her.
She makes that whimpering noise in the back of her throat, and I glide my fingers into her hair, enjoying the fuck out of her.
“Thanks for playing for me,” she says when I pull back. “You’re so good. I never would have pegged you for a concert pianist.”
I snort and tuck her hair behind her ear.
“Far from it. I learned when I was a kid and never stopped playing. It’s the thing that always soothed me. I don’t drink a lot, I don’t smoke. I play the piano. And now, I have you.”
“I soothe you?”
“Yeah, baby. You do.” I kiss her again and then stand so I can move to the side and face her. “I have to go to LA this afternoon, and I’m taking you with me.”
She blinks in surprise and then firms her chin.
“I don’t need to be babysat, Julian. I keep telling you that. You can go, and I’ll be fine here alone. I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
I take a deep breath and rub my hand over my mouth.
“Angel, will you please join me in California? I want you with me because I enjoy being with you and going without you for three days sounds like fucking torture. Please come with me.”
She presses her lips together for a heartbeat. “Was that so hard?”
“Is that a yes?”
She stands and bushes her hair over her shoulder. “I’d love to come. What do I need to pack?”
I plan to keep you naked as much as possible, so just bring yourself.
Instead of that, I tell her to pack for a couple of nights, and then she starts to walk to our room, but stops and looks back at me.
“Do I have luggage, or will I be using trash bags?”
“Never gonna let me live any of that down, are you?”
“Are you kidding? Absolutely not.”
There’s that sassy fucking mouth that I love.
Natasha folds and unfolds her hands where they rest in her lap for the tenth time in as many minutes, so I reach over and cover them with my own.
“Why are you nervous?”
“What? Oh, I’m not.”
“We’re not even at the airfield yet. What’s going on in that perfect brain of yours?”
She stares out the window for a moment and then glances at me, and the fear in her eyes slays me. “I’ve never flown before.”
Jesus.
That’s right, she told me that she’d never left the state. Her piece-of-shit father, with all of his wealth, never took her on a goddamn vacation.
“It’s a short flight,” I assure her. “Less than an hour. And we’ll take my jet.”
“Your jet?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God, that’s worse.”
Not expecting that response, I frown. “Why?”
“Because, what if I do something stupid and hurt your plane?”
She’s so fucking adorable.
“You can’t hurt it, Natasha.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can.” She shifts in her seat, looking terrified, and I bring one of her hands to my lips, peppering kisses on her knuckles.
“Listen to me, it’s going to be great. And I have to amend what I said. It’s not my jet, it’s just habit to phrase it that way.”
“Then whose is it?”
“It’s ours.”
She swallows hard. “That doesn’t help.”
I grin and squeeze her hands, and before long the SUV pulls up in front of the private plane that’s ready for boarding.
“Wait for me.”
Natasha nods, and I step out of the car, scanning the area for any potential danger, then circle to her side and help her out.
My crew grabs our luggage—Hermès for my wife, not fucking trash bags—and loads it aboard while I guide her up the stairs and into our plane.
I love this jet. I spent a fucking fortune on it, customizing it. It’s comfortable, with the softest leather seats, plenty of space to spread out, and it’s fancy as fuck.
I hope she likes it because I plan to take her all over the world in it.
Once we’re on board, Natasha stands in the aisle, taking it all in, her blue eyes wide.
“Have a seat, baby. Anywhere you want.”
“Where do you want to sit?” she asks as she reaches for my hand, and I love that she wants to be close to me.
“Next to you. So, you pick, and I’ll be happy.”
She’s still nibbling that lip as she moves to a seat in the middle of the plane and sits, and I take the seat across from her, facing her, then reach down for her foot, remove her shoe, and start to rub the arch.
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“I’m going to get you to relax, sweetheart. I want you to enjoy this trip.”
She sighs and looks around, and the flight attendant approaches, not even sparing my wife a glance as she smiles at me.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“What would you like, Angel?”
Natasha just shakes her head.
“Two ginger ales, please,” I reply, not even glancing up.
Did I fuck the flight attendant once on a trip to South Africa? Yes. Obviously, there will be no repeat performance.
She saunters away and Natasha watches her, those sapphire eyes narrowing.
“What’s wrong?”
“If she eye fucks you one more time, I’ll pull your gun—”
“Jessica,” I bark out, and the attendant returns seconds later. Natasha’s still glaring at her. “You’re fired. Get off my wife’s plane. Now.”
“What? Sir—”
“I won’t tell you twice.”
Her jaw drops, and then, with burning red cheeks, she spins on her heel and exits the aircraft as I make a call.
“I need a new flight attendant in the next twenty minutes.”
I hang up and smile over at my wife.
“I like it when you’re territorial, Angel.”
“Did you fuck her?” My girl is pissed.
“Yes. Before I married you.”
“And yet, you’re married now, and she still worked for you.”
I hold her gaze with mine, not wavering. So fucking proud of her for standing up for herself.
“An oversight on my part, obviously. My apologies.”
“Do you have other women—”
“No. There’s no one else under my employ that I’ve fucked.”
She lifts her chin, and I want to fucking applaud.
“Good. That’s a new rule of mine. If you’ve touched a woman, she no longer has access to you.”
“I’m more than happy to live by that rule, sweetheart.”
Within fifteen minutes, another woman boards the plane and comes right over to us. She’s in her thirties, dressed in her black uniform, her hair pulled back in a tidy bun, and smiles kindly but not inappropriately.
“Hello,” she says, addressing Natasha first. “Mrs. Stavros, Mr. Stavros. I’m Chloe. I’m happy to be part of your crew today. Can I get you a refreshment before we take off?”
“I’d like a ginger ale,” Natasha says with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Chloe.”
“The same for me.”
“Of course, I’ll be right back with those.”
She walks away and Natasha nods.
“That’s more like it.”
“How are your nerves now?”
“Better.” The engines start, and she lets out a little squeak. “Maybe not.”
“Those are the engines. Nothing that’s happening is out of the ordinary. Soon, we’ll taxi to the runway and take off. We’ll be flying at about thirty thousand feet, and the flight lasts less than an hour.”
“Okay.”
Chloe sets our glasses in front of us, then walks away, and Natasha gazes around the plane.
“It’s fancy,” she says. “And really pretty. I’m afraid that I’m going to spill something and ruin the leather.”
“You won’t. And if you do, who the fuck cares? It can all be replaced.”
“It’s expensive.”
“I can afford a hundred of these jets, Natasha. You can’t do any harm. Besides, I want you to remember something. Are you listening?”
“You’re three feet away, of course I’m listening.”
“I fucking love your sassy mouth,” I growl at her, making her smile smugly.
I love that the light has come back to her eyes over the past few weeks.
“You’re the boss here. Yes, they all answer to me, but you’re my wife.
You’re a Mafia queen, Natasha. If you don’t like something, or someone, you say so, and it changes immediately. ”
“I just snap my fingers and—”
“And whatever you want to happen, happens. Jessica’s gone. You want steak and lobster for the ride over? Done. You want the color of the leather changed to bright fucking orange? It might not happen today, but I’ll arrange it. This is your empire too.”
She blinks at me, obviously stunned, and then nods slowly. “Thank you.”
“Remember that when you start to get nervous because you’re in new territory. You don’t need to be afraid or worried that you’ll say or do the wrong thing, because you’re at the top of the food chain, Natasha. Don’t forget that.”
She presses her lips together and then nods again. “Thanks for the reminder. I’ll work on it. Now, what are we doing in LA?”
“I have work. While I take care of that, you’re welcome to enjoy the spa at our resort, or go shopping, or sit by the pool. You can do whatever you want.”
“A facial and a mani-pedi sound really good,” she admits.
“Done. I’ll be back every evening with you, and we’ll decide what we want to do from there.”
“So I get to relax, and you have to work. That’s pretty on brand for us.”
I chuckle and sip my drink. “Are you getting bored?”
“Not bored, but maybe antsy. I still really want to teach music.” She sips her ginger ale as the airplane moves, headed for the runway.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Stavros. Thanks for joining us this afternoon. We’ve been cleared for takeoff, so we’ll be in the air here shortly.
Flight time is approximately fifty-seven minutes from wheels up to wheels down.
There’s no weather to speak of, so it should be a smooth flight. We’ll see you on the ground.”
“You were right about all of the things,” Natasha says with a smile.
“I go to LA often. I have a port near there where I receive most of my product. Now, back to you teaching music. I think that once your wrist is rehabbed, you’ll be good to go there. We talked before about me buying you a building for it. Where would you like it to be?”
She frowns, thinking it over. “Do you have an office in the same building as the penthouse?”
Surprised, my brow furrows. “I do, yes.”
“Can I have space in that building, so I’m close to you? And then, once the penthouse is finished, I’ll be close to home too.”
She wants to be near me.
Fuck, nothing’s ever sounded better.
“You can have all the space you need, absolutely. When we get back to Vegas, we’ll check it out, and you can choose the area. We’ll get started on it right away.”
“I can advertise with local schools, letting them know that I’m available. I’ve been doing research on curriculums for different ages and abilities. I’m so excited.”
“We’ll get everything you need.”
The plane revs down the runway and then lifts into the air, and Natasha’s eyes widen as she watches me.
“Oh God.”
“You’re fine. You’re completely safe. Look.” I point out the window at the city below. “The Sphere looks like the moon right now.”
“It’s so beautiful from up here,” she says quietly. “I love our city.”
“I know you do. But I’m excited to show you the ocean.”
Within a few minutes, the Fasten Seat Belt light goes off, and I unbuckle myself, then her, and lift her into my arms before sitting on a sofa with her in my lap.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting more comfortable. I want you in my arms, baby.”