Chapter Nineteen
Leonid
Elena’s eyes follow the amber swirl of whiskey in my glass.
The sensation of her watching every little move I make has become constant since I picked her up from the yacht three days ago, and each time I catch her staring, she quickly looks away.
Most people avoid looking at me for longer than necessary. My men lower their gazes when I talk to them, and only a few business partners have mustered the balls to look me straight in the eyes when we’re talking money.
The women I’ve been with before Elena were always the same, too afraid to even keep their eyes open when we fucked.
But my little bird has always been different.
I still remember the obvious fear in her eyes the first day we met, along with the fire of defiance. Besides Tatiana, she’s the only person who’s treated me like I’m human and not some two-horned devil who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything in its path.
And maybe that’s why I was so drawn to her from the very first day.
I sign the last page of a shipping contract and set the pen aside before finally lifting my head.
Sure enough, she’s sitting across from me on the leather couch, and she doesn’t look away when our eyes meet. Instead, she narrows them as if she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
I lean back in my chair, letting the staring contest go on for a moment too long before breaking the silence. “You can ask if you’re that curious,” I say, taking a sip of my whiskey. The drink travels down my throat, leaving a hot trail that slowly descends to my stomach and simmers there.
She straightens her spine. “Is it that obvious that I have a question to ask?”
I nod. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were planning to kidnap me or something.”
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t laugh at my joke. Instead she frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. “Thanks, but not everyone has the habit of grabbing unsuspecting people off the street.”
“It was off the docks.”
She rolls her eyes and huffs a sigh. “Same difference.” Then she leans forward, curling one leg beneath the other. “Since you said I could ask…I’ve been curious about you.”
My brow cocks. She’s never been curious about me, so this is an interesting but welcome development. “Why?”
“I just realized we’ve been married for three months now and I know very little about you besides your name, your sister’s name, and what you do for work.
” She pauses for a moment and watches me tentatively.
“I don’t know how old you are. What you love to do when you’re not busy terrorizing me or Miami as a whole.
And I know nothing about your family besides your two scary cousins and that Tatiana is your little sister. ”
Her curiosity should excite me. It does. But it also pulls on a deeply wounded part of me I thought I buried years ago.
Elena rolls her lip between her teeth and gives me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I was only curious.”
I’d have lost my shit if it were someone else asking, but something about Elena makes me feel safe enough to open up to her about my past.
She’s my wife. My soulmate. Even though she doesn’t feel it yet, we belong together, so we should share everything with each other.
“I’m forty-two.”
“Forty-two,” she echoes thoughtfully. “Older than I imagined, but you clearly have good genes.”
A smile plays on my lips, my curiosity piqued. “How old did you think I was?”
“Forty,” she says sarcastically.
I chuckle, swirling my drink. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, baby.”
“I’m hardly disappointed,” she says with a causal shrug. “Why haven’t I met any family members other than your sister and cousins? How about your parents? Are they still alive, or—”
“They’re both dead,” I cut in. “Just like me, my father worked for the bratva. He was killed while failing a mission after I turned twenty-two, only a month after Tatiana was born.”
She lets out a show, quiet breath, her head shaking ever so slightly, like she’s feeling the suffocating gravity of the world I grew up in. “I’m so sorry.” There’s no cheap pity in her voice, and thank God for that, but I can feel the empathy in her tone. “And your mother…how did she die?”
My grip on the glass tightens and my throat clenches in a way that makes swallowing painful. Even after all these years, the pain of losing my parents hasn’t faded. I’ve only learned to live with it, to bury it deeply in a part of my memories where I don’t have to revisit it.
But Elena has managed to pry that box open for the first time in over two decades, and for the very first time, I feel the burden of it lessen.
“She couldn’t accept my father’s death, and being freshly postpartum, she sank into a depression that ended up claiming her life.
I took over my father’s estate and got it running as soon as he died, but I watched helplessly as my mother slowly gave up on herself, and there was nothing I could do to save her. ”
The words feel like shards of glass scraping their way up my throat. Twenty-two years later, and that wound still hasn’t healed.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
Elena’s eyes stay on me, soft and aching, as if she can feel my pain. Then she slowly rises to her feet and makes her way to me. Surprisingly, she sits on my legs and reaches for my hand, simply holding on to me.
“Leo, there’s nothing you could have done.”
I know, but that doesn’t make the guilt and pain I feel any lighter. Instead, it makes me feel more helpless. It drives me crazy when I can’t keep my loved ones safe. I swallow hard, taking her hand in mine.
For the first time in years, I don’t feel alone with the pain. That realization cracks something open inside my chest. “You’re right. There’s nothing I could’ve done to save her.”
She watches me as if trying to piece together everything I’m not saying. “Is that why you were so upset when you couldn’t find me? Because you were worried you wouldn’t be able to protect me if something happened when I wasn’t with you?”
“Yes.”
She bites down on her lip, her expression softening even more. “I’m sorry I misunderstood you.”
“It is fine, ptichka.” I cup her cheeks, caressing the soft skin with my thumb. “I’ll keep you safe. No matter what it takes.”
The corners of her lips lift with a faint smile. She tilts her head and kisses the palm of my hand. “I know you will. And I won’t ever give you any reason to worry about my safety. Ever again.” Something clicks behind her eyes. “Did you ever find out who was behind your father’s death?”
“Yes.” Anger coils around the grief already lodged in my chest. “Turned out someone he trusted like a brother sabotaged the mission. I got my revenge, but even if I killed that asshole a thousand times, it wouldn’t make up for the weight of his betrayal.
He cost my family everything. It’s why there are only a few people I trust.”
I think back to Artem and his possible betrayal. Something hot and bitter unfurls in my chest. I’ve been watching him quietly the last couple of days. Last night, I saw him sneak out of the mansion while he thought everyone was asleep, so I had one of my men follow him.
He met up with someone, and I had Mikhail run a background check on the guy. My man mentioned he saw Artem pass something over to the stranger and slip something into his own pocket before returning to the mansion.
The result of Mikhail’s background check will determine whether Artem lives to see another day. And I hope to God that all of this is just my suspicion.
“Is there something bothering you?” Elena asks.
I drift back to the present and look at her, surprised she’s still acting normal around me. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Her brows knit with genuine concern. “Why would I be?”
“Because you know me now. You know what cruelty I’m capable of.” Monster. That’s the word people outside the mafia use to describe men like me. We’re nothing but bloody killers with cruelty carved deep in our bones.
I expect Elena to see me the same way.
“You’re also the same man who ran down here to save me.” She presses another kiss to the back of my hand. “You’re the same man who trusted me enough to tell me about your past. You’re my husband, Leo. Our relationship might not be a normal one, but this doesn’t change anything.”
Hearing her say that, especially in that soft, caring tone, makes my chest constrict in a way that feels foreign. Although my sister loves me to bits and I love her back, this feels different.
Elena’s awakening a side of me that I thought was killed and buried by the darkness of the world I exist in.
Although it makes me uneasy, a part of me wants to drown completely in her.
I’m not sure how to deal with this new development—this fluttering in my chest that fills me with even more warmth than the thought of bending her over and sliding my cock into her.
What I feel isn’t just lust.
It’s something deeper and stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.
My phone rings before I can clear my muddy thoughts, Mikhail’s name flashing across the screen.
I pick up the phone and spend the first couple of seconds listening to my cousin clear his throat, a habit he developed just to annoy me.
“Speak or I’m hanging up.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? I have something very juicy for you, brat.”
“Is it out?”
“Yes, and I’m standing outside your office.”
“Come inside.”
The door creaks open and Mikhail strides in, a brown folder in his right hand. His eyes light up when they meet Elena’s. He flashes his usual playboy smile at her. “Good evening, sister.”
Elena smiles back at him. I hate it when she smiles at any man who isn’t me. “Good evening, Mikhail. It’s nice to see you again.”
Mikhail flattens his palm on his chest and lowers his head, mimicking a pose he saw in a Victorian movie we watched together when we were kids. “Well, the pleasure’s all mine. I’d visit more often if your grump of a husband wasn’t so…insecure.”