Chapter 29
Mikhail
That fucking imbecile.
By the time we’re back home and I’m crossing into the other wing to Wolf’s office, my mind is still on what Sergei said to my wife.
I knew he was a piece of shit, but to attack her right there, in front of me, was downright stupid.
I may have removed Cecilia from the situation, but the night’s still young.
Our law states that once a Bratva gathering has ended, hunting any brother down for retaliation is fair game, and I’m in the mood to play.
I send a text to both Rodion and Niko and then shove my phone in my pocket, opening the door to the office.
“You’re here. Good,” Wolf says, crossing his arms.
This job seems to be taking a toll on his body. Ever since he came back from his honeymoon, he’s gone so hard at this nonsense, he now has dark circles under his eyes.
“Are you ever going to sleep? You should.” I plop down into a leather chair.
“I don’t need sleep. What I need is the other half of Chicago back.”
I suck in a dramatic breath, leaning back in my seat. “Any news on that Remus guy?”
After torturing his partner a while ago in the warehouse, I passed the info on to Wolfgang so he could get his team of hackers to track him down.
“He’s in the States, last seen in LA. I was surprised to see the size of his group. For someone who supposedly found out he was a mafia heir only recently, he sure as fuck has plenty of soldiers willing to die for him. I wasn’t able to find out who’s helping him.”
“I’ll go to him. Easier to figure out his plans if someone’s on the ground.”
The words come out on autopilot, like volunteering to put myself in danger is still the only language I speak when it comes to him. Only this time, something makes me wince as soon as I’m done saying them.
After being away from my wife so often, I’m in no rush to leave her again. Not after what happened last night, and especially not before I sink my cock into her pretty pussy for the first time.
She was breathtaking this evening.
She wore a long, crimson dress with an open back, and when she sat at the piano to play, she wrapped all of us up in her spell.
I didn’t think my obsession could grow any more, but I was dead wrong.
Those hands of hers—those slender, beautiful hands that kept her cunt spread open for me last night—hit the notes so calmly, yet so full of emotion.
Her sweet soul flashed through every stroke and every sway of her body.
I’ve never been so enthralled by someone, but in that moment, when she played, it sounded like words echoed down an invisible bond. I understood her, and she trusted that I would.
And when she clapped back at Sergei for insulting her family, I’ve never been more proud. Not because I love her—my heart is a cold, dreadful pit with no walls to house anyone—but because in a strange, fucked-up way, we’re…helping each other.
She’s soft, tender, and makes it easy for me to care for once. I’m the opposite, my assertiveness exactly what she needs to tap into sometimes. She’s too kind for her own good.
“If I’m sending anyone, it’s not going to be you,” Wolf says, jaw clenching, “I need you alive.”
And there it is again. That ugly fucking feeling I never want to look at pulses somewhere in my skull, demanding attention. He might as well have asked me to walk a tight rope above croc-infested waters—that’s what being asked to stay feels like when every instinct I have says distance is safer.
I run a hand through my hair. “If Remus is attacking Antonio soon, the Ferrara soldiers won’t have enough of his attention to stop us from reclaiming Chicago. It would be good to know an exact date.”
Wolf nods. “Ask Niko to go to LA then. He works quietly, and I don’t want Remus to know we’re on his trail.” His mouth opens to say something and then closes without another word.
I quirk a brow. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just that he probably knows you married Cecilia. Your public displays have been pretty telling.”
“Meaning?”
He shoots me a knowing look. “You care about her. And I have Victoria. I’m just saying, if shit hits the fan, he might go after them, not us. Come tomorrow morning, they’re both getting more security.”
I snort an incredulous laugh, but it tastes bitter on my tongue. He’s not wrong. The thought of my wife being at the mercy of anyone who isn’t me sends pure rage crawling up my skin.
“Which is why it would be better if I went, not Niko,” I protest.
“I said no. I need you here, and if you really want to help, you’ll stay.”
I roll my eyes, getting up to stand. “When are you anointing your sovietnik? I can’t be acting like one every time you call for me. It’s not what I do.” And he knows it. Offering advice when I’m constantly living on the edge of chaos isn’t helping anyone.
He nods. “Soon. And don’t sell yourself so short. You’ve been doing great work lately.”
“Ah, yeah? Well. What a good time to let you know I’m killing your treasurer tonight, lest you think I come into these meetings free of charge.” I wink.
To my surprise, he just waves a hand in the air. “Have at it. I wanted him replaced anyway. Found him stealing.”
I tsk, leaving the office as a message vibrates in my pocket.
Later in the night, I’m back home, knuckles bloody and head lighter than when I left.
Without turning on the lights, I enter the bedroom where my wife lays on her side, all bundled under the sheets.
She was quiet after we left the party, and I hate that she didn’t get to fully enjoy her evening because of what that fucker said to her.
I go into the en-suite bathroom first, washing my hands of the treasurer’s snot, blood, and tears. When I approach the bedside again, Cecilia’s head peeks up.
“You’re back,” she whispers in a husky, sleep-laced voice. My cock instantly grows hard.
I pull my sweatshirt over my head, dropping it to the floor, then unbuckle my belt. “Of course I am.”
“Where were you?”
“Out.” I get rid of my pants until I’m only in my Armani boxer briefs.
She lets out a small, frustrated sigh. “That’s all I get?”
“You wouldn’t like the details.”
“Because you were with someone else?” A small frown appears on her face. “If you’re going to visit whores, I suggest you take your pillow and beg them to let you sleep in their beds. Because you’re not sleeping in mine.”
My lips twitch with a smile as I peel off the sheets on my side of the bed, lying down next to her warm body. “Come here, Cecilia.”
“I’m serious.” She sits up but still leans into me, bathing me in her delicious heat. “You come home at two in the morning and truly expect me not to ask any questions? Whenever you leave me, I don’t even know if you’re coming back…”
I suppress a groan, her words hitting like invisible bullets.
I’ve been a complete ass by leaving her to her own devices so many times.
I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my chest as I relish in her familiar, intoxicating scent.
“I stopped going to whores the second I stepped foot in San Maleno and saw your face.”
Without giving her the chance to protest again, I pull out my phone and tap the screen on the video I took at the warehouse. Immediately, Sergei’s beaten-up face shows up. He’s on his knees, piss leaking from his pants as he looks up to the camera.
Cecilia stiffens next to me. “What is this?”
“She can’t hear you, Pissy Willy,” Rodion laughs, his voice a low echo in the empty space. “We left your vocal cords intact for a reason.”
Niko walks behind Sergei, pulling his head back. “Again,” he orders.
I crouch, filming him from an angle that’s almost cinematic, as if I’m aiming for an Oscar.
“I’m—” Sergei swallows his phlegm. “Sorry for what I said. I’m sorry, Cecilia.”
“Attaboy.” I pat his cheek and then kick his chest with my boot. He crashes onto his back, hitting the concrete.
The video ends there, and I toss my phone away on the nightstand. “Wanted you to see that before you went to bed. Sorry I took longer than I intended. I do get carried away sometimes.”
“Mikhail…” she groans. “You can’t just kill someone because they look at me the wrong way or say something disrespectful.”
“Obviously, I can. I did.”
With a swift motion, she straddles me, pussy centered on my cock. My eyes flutter closed as I wrap my hands around her ass. Fuck.
“Listen to me,” she says in a serious tone, “I understand people die in this business. It’s not like any of them are good people. But I don’t want their deaths on my conscience. I’m Catholic.”
I pry her ass cheeks apart, causing a whimper to erupt from her chest.
“A horny one at that,” I murmur. “What’s your safe word?” I caress her beautiful face, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Malachite…”
“Mmhm.” I push her panties to the side, a pool of wetness welcoming my fingers. I grunt, and she buries her head in the crook of my neck, her sweet orange blossom scent seeping into my pores. Goddamn.
“I like this, you know? You waiting for me in a warm bed, with your cunt all wet and your jealous little protests. Could get used to it.”
“I’m not jealous,” she breathes out, grinding her opening against my fingers. “But like I said before, if you’re going to cheat on me, so will I. It’s only fair.”
“And like I said before, I’ll kill any asshole who gets too close to my wife. You’d have a long list of men on your Catholic conscience then.”
“Women too, perhaps,” she says.
I chuckle. Placing a kiss on her neck, I pull my briefs down and remove my fingers from her pussy, letting her sit directly on my bare skin. We both groan at the silky feel of each other.
“I don’t want you to do it,” she says, her breath stuttering. “Don’t sleep with other women. You said I could ask for anything, so here I am. Asking.”
As her words register, my heart pumps so hard, I swear, it’s going to jump out of my fucking chest. “So you are jealous, then. Hmm?”
She glides across the length of my cock, warm and sloppy, making it hard to contain myself.