10. Titus
TITUS
Ispent a good chunk of the evening planning out my time with Sofia. Since all the planned Bratva business is moving along without my oversight, I can spend some time on this… hobby?
No, this is a conquest. As I told Ignat, it’s the spoils of war that I get to enjoy.
And when I’m done and she’s all used up, I’ll discard her.
Simple as that. All that said, having a conquest like this will require upkeep, certainly.
I had a more clinical thought process about it before I made it happen.
Just a bare bones structure in place for how I’d like this entire thing to go.
Now that it’s all been put into action… well, it’s not what I expected.
For one thing, Sofia is naturally headstrong.
I wore her out that first time. Enough to still her smart tongue, but not completely.
She’s still plenty of bark and probably all of her bite.
I didn’t exactly expect her to break completely, but I didn’t expect her to hold up so well to what I dished out.
She almost seems made for this kind of thing.
But it’s only been one day. Breaking a stubborn filly takes time. I hope she got all the rest she can handle because it’s back to the grind today. Literally and figuratively. I’ve got hours blocked off that I can spend ‘training’ her.
In other issues, I’ve had to send out for food over these past few days until I can settle the issue of Natalie’s absence.
Luka’s noticed her absence and I’ve yet to give him an explanation outside of ‘She’s gone on vacation.
’ I don’t like lying to the boy, but on the other hand, I have no idea how to tell him that the only woman who has been caring for him for all these years is never coming back again because she’s dead.
The only reference for the kind of conversation I need to have with him comes from my relationship with my Pakhan.
He was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a parent and he didn’t mince words with me.
If someone was dead, he said so plainly.
Bratva men don’t waste time on sugarcoating things.
That said, he also didn’t allow me to grieve.
If I had to cry for the dead, I was told to do so in private.
Never let anyone see me weep under any circumstances.
I suppose I could do that with Luka. Oddly enough, it’s hard to imagine being that hard on him.
Such things seem so simple in theory. And then the day comes when you have to put them in practice and you find that it’s a little more complicated.
Telling him that Natalie has died and then saying that he’s not allowed to cry about it feels less like making him strong and more like crushing a butterfly under my shoe.
I suppose I don’t like the idea of being the source of his sorrow. I also don’t like the idea of him growing up so weak that he can’t handle the specter of a thing that surrounds me in and out of every day. Who knew this kind of thing was anywhere near as complicated as it actually is?
Breakfast comes in fast food bags today. Processed bacon and egg sandwiches, orange juice in plastic containers with straws, hash browns formed in blocks for easy consumption. It’s almost a crime to have to feed Luka this crap.
I go to his door and to my surprise, I find that he’s still asleep. He’s snuggled under his blankets, his mouth open slightly as tiny snores rumble out of him. He must have stayed up after I put him to bed. I’ve told him about that.
He gets a pass for it now, I suppose. I set the fast food bag on the writing desk and leave him to sleep. Hopefully, he stays asleep for the next couple of hours while I deal with Sofia.
I get to her room and before I open the door, I hear music playing. Sounds like she’s up, at least…
I open the door just as she’s pulling a T-shirt on. The room smells of her—jasmine and rose with a hint of sex. I picked up the scent in her hair at the warehouse. Now it fills the room.
The television is on behind her, a kaleidoscope visualizer playing over soft classical music. She pauses, looking at me, then her eyes drift down to the bag in my hand.
“Good morning,” I say, closing the door behind me.
She turns to me fully, looking at the bag with a tilt of her head, then crossing her arms. So. The defiance starts already. Here we go.
“You don’t have to have breakfast,” I say. “I’d advise against it, however. Days tend to be longer when you skip meals.”
Her lips twist tightly, then, “I’ll eat it. I’m starved, actually.”
“That is no way to greet me and you know it. Try again.”
She stiffens a little, then, “Good morning, Sir.”
“That’s better.” I walk all the way in the room and hand her the bag. She opens it.
“So, is this how I’ll be served every day?” she asks. Then with a smartass smile, she says, “You surround me with all this luxury and then serve me a McSandwich with hashbrowns?”
“You might’ve had eggs benedict if your brother hadn’t killed my housekeeper,” I retort. Her smile fades.
“Touche, Sir.” She sits down on the corner of her bed, laying the food out on the comforter. She picks up the breakfast sandwich and unwraps it. “May I ask a question, Sir?”
“You may.”
“Who’s the boy in the other room?”
I freeze. “What?”
She takes a bite from the sandwich, then motions to the door. “The boy in the room in the other hall. Who is he?”
I don’t answer her. Hot rage pulses in my chest as she sits there eating her food.
“I don’t know why,” she goes on through a mouthful of food, “but I didn’t peg you for the type of guy who snatches kids. I’ve got to assume that this is some sort of ransom situation. So, what’s the deal with his parents? They owe you money or—”
“He is my son,” I tell her. “And I would advise you to stop talking about him immediately.”
She stares at me, her sapphire eyes widening slightly. “Sorry.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Sir,” she adds.
“How do you even know about him?”
She sets down her sandwich and wipes her hands on her pants. “I heard him crying last night,” she says. “So, if he’s your son, why did you lock him up?”
I step up to her, getting in her face. “You don’t ask me about him,” I growl. “Ever. Do you understand me?”
She freezes, her eyes as large as saucers. For a second, she says nothing.
“Sofia—”
“I understand, Sir,” she answers softly.
“Good.” I walk away from her. “Finish your breakfast. When I come back, we’re going to handle that mouth of yours.”
And with that I leave.
This morning’s session with Sofia was rough.
For her punishment, I tied a ball gag around her mouth and bound her to the bed while I fucked her hard from behind.
The whole while, I eyed her untouched asshole and heard her begging me not to fuck it in our last session.
I could have crossed that line, but I didn’t.
I’m saving that for bigger punishments, should she decide to insult me again.
Her moans from behind her gag were so shuddery and rough as she came, her toes curling up as I slapped her ass until her skin glowed hot and red under my palm. The whole time, her body responded with excitement. She practically soaked the sheets with her juices.
It was… hot. Much hotter than I was expecting. Fucking her this time was so good that I forgot all about restraining her from coming. Instead, I found myself watching with wonder as her legs lifted up and spread apart and her back arched as she leaned into my thrusts.
The plan went out the window the moment I came with her. The fault is mine on that front. I’ve got to learn not to let my anger get the better of me when I fuck her. Or maybe I should think of ways to be more vicious. I don’t know.
I’ve been thinking about it all morning as I sit in my office. Try as I might to imagine this arrangement as punishment… I’m afraid I might be enjoying it in a way that I wasn’t expecting to.
I hear my doorbell ring and I’m snapped out of the memory. The problem of Sofia will have to wait. I’ve got more important plans today.
I open the door and let Ignat in. “You’re early,” I tell him as he walks into the foyer. We both walk into the living room and sit down. “I just put a pot of coffee on, if you’re interested.”
“No, sir,” he says. “I’m fine, thank you.” He pauses as I take my seat opposite him. I see him glance casually at the stairs leading up to the second floor. “How… how goes things around here?”
I cock my head at him. “That’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard one. Why don’t you just ask what you really want to ask?”
He clears his throat. “It’s really none of my business, sir.”
“Door’s already open. Might as well walk through.”
He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “I was wondering about your prisoner of war, sir. I… assume she’s still alive.”
“Very much so,” I say, then it hits me why he’s asking. “Don’t tell me you’re still concerned about how this looks to the brotherhood?”
“You took her from the warehouse,” he says, “without any word to anyone about where you’ve taken her. The assumption going around is that you’ve already killed her, but since there’s been no confirmation—”
“So, tell everyone the truth. I don’t mind. I’m holding the daughter of the Pakhan of the former Penza Bratva as my own personal sex slave. That should shut everyone up.”
He gives me a small, humorless smile. “I don’t think you understand. What you’re doing with her isn’t really the problem. She’s dangerous, Titus. And you know that. Everyone knows that.”
I pause, rubbing my fingers together thoughtfully. “Yeah. But then again, so am I.” I pause, thinking back to the whole business with Luka. The nerve of her bringing him up in the first place. “You know what, though? She is sneaky. I think she might’ve gotten out last night.”
“Oh?”
I nod. “I may have to change the locks on her door. I can’t have her wandering around the house at night.”
He considers that, his eyebrows knitting together in a deep frown. “She got out and she didn’t try to leave?”
“I have guards posted all over the grounds. She wouldn’t have gotten far.”
“That’s not the point, is it? She didn’t even try. That’s curious, don’t you think?”
I don’t have an answer for him, so I don’t respond for a few seconds.
“So, where is she now? Still locked away?”
I nod. “She knows about Luka. She said she heard him crying last night. I think it’s possible that she went to check in on him.”
Ignat nods but doesn’t respond. I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind.
“What?” I prod him.
“Well, nothing. Except… You don’t have anyone to watch Luka anymore.”
That old ball of rage turns in my chest and I shake my head. “No.”
“Titus—”
“She is the last person I would ever want around my son. I don’t think I have to explain why.”
Ignat’s jaw clenches and for a second, I think he might drop it. He doesn’t. “I know you don’t want to think about this,” he says, “but consider something for a moment. If what you’re saying is true, then she had plenty of opportunity to do… well… a lot of things last night.”
“Right,” I say impatiently. “She could have run. So you’ve said.”
“She could also have taken her revenge,” he responds softly. “On you, on Luka… You were sleeping and blissfully unaware of her escape. She could have gotten the jump on you, gotten her revenge and her freedom in one night.” He pauses. “She could also have killed Luka. An eye for an eye for an eye.”
My rage chills to an icy cold feeling all over my body. I see his point. She could’ve done all those things easily. And she didn’t. Why?
“The bottom line,” he goes on, “is that she didn’t do any of that.”
“So, what? Based on that, you think I can trust her with my son? Pick up where Natalie left off? Are you out of your mind?”
“I am just suggesting that she could be compelled to pay for what she broke, in a sense. You lost your housekeeper because of her attack. You need someone to watch after him. And because of the nature of his existence, you can’t just pick anyone to do that.
It has to be someone who can be bound to secrecy, someone who could never tell anyone that he exists. Even on accident.”
He’s right. I do need someone like that. But Sofia? The daughter of my sworn enemy?
“Just think it over,” Ignat says. “You will have to do something about Luka, and soon. I’m just presenting her as an option.”
It’s a shitty option. One that makes my stomach turn. But logically speaking, it might be the best option I have.
“I’ll consider it,” I say to him. “But no promises. There may yet be a better solution.”
“Maybe. Until then, though…”
I take that and leave it right where it is. Sofia being the magical solution seems laughable, and it makes sense, all at the same time.
We’ll see, though. If she can behave, perhaps I might find a use for her, after all.