Chapter Seventeen - Akim
Finally. I’ve claimed her. Michael Jane’s daughter is mine. All mine. Her long slender arm is draped over my chest, her honey-caramel hair highlighted by the morning light. Disentangling myself from her, I look at her, seeing her fragility in willing to marry a ruthless man like me. I’d grown to become the man I am today. I never wanted to be like this, but it’s a shameful secret I vow never to share. Kiara can’t know that side of me. I’ve never been able to know it myself. That’s a shell of the young boy in Moscow. The only sign of him is living in the old photograph on my bookshelf. The only memento I got to keep of my mother before she passed.
I can’t let anybody else have her, and if my brother or Boris ever say anything about her again, I’m going to hurt them. Badly. I’ve saved her. Unable to help myself, I twist her hair through my fingers. Leaning forward I stop myself just in time from kissing her head. Instead, I brush back the strands that show her beautiful face.
Frowning as she stirs in her sleep, I thought by marrying her I would be able to figure it out, but I can’t. Why is this woman unsettling me so much? The sweatpants made me laugh inwardly, but in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t let her see me be okay with it. She’s resourceful, and able to think on her feet.
A trait I’m captivated by as a slideshow of the memories we’ve already made come to me. From our witty conversation when she called me from the park right outside her house. She thought she’d won, but I’d been able to trace her call within seconds. But the best memory is when we first met. Everything froze when she walked into Sky Lever, her dazzling smile and confidence giving her a runway model appeal, and now I have her. Nobody else can.
Her defiance is a nuisance more than anything, but I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. If I wanted an easy woman, I would have selected one of the many who threw themselves at me relentlessly for years. But no, I chose this one. And I’m the lucky man, because if it wasn’t for her father I never would have met her.
Struggling with my feelings, I caress one of her strands behind her ear, as Kiara stirs, her eyes fluttering open to my touch. Self-consciously and flustered, she quickly draws the sheet up to her neck.
“I’ve already seen everything, Kiara. I think we’re past that, don’t you?” I remind her with a smirk, her cheeks turning red.
“Morning,” she murmurs as I study the line of her silhouette under the blanket, my cock stirring again.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I trust that you slept well,” I tease while Kiara scrambles to search for her clothes.
“I did. Do you—” Dipping to the side of my bed, I hold her red bra up on the tip of my finger.
“Looking for this?”
A flash of irritation dances in her blue eyes as she snatches it, facing away from me to put it on and sliding into the lingerie set I brought for her. Sighing, I flip back the covers, not caring about being naked in front of her. In fact, I want her to see me.
Stretching, I admire her as she finds the silk robe I gifted her, clutching it around her body. She yawns. Even better in the morning with her hair in a beautiful mess framing her face.
“Coffee?”
“Yes please.” She glances at me, realizes I’m naked, and quickly averts her eyes.
“You can look. I’m your husband.”
“Right.” She does her best not to look again, but it’s too bad because I’ve already caught her sneaking a peek.
“I’ll organize that coffee and breakfast. We can sit out on the balcony if you want.” I find common ground as she turns to look behind her.
“It’s a great view you have here.” She crosses her arms over her body, still shy about what she did with me last night, but to me, giving her multiple orgasms included everything right. “Sure. But I’m going to have a shower first.”
“Okay. Meet you back here, wife.” Her eyes blaze a trail through me. I sense she hates being called that, but it’s too bad. She’s going to have to get used to me calling her that.
I give her some time to get herself together, getting the maid to pull together breakfast for us to have on the balcony, and I bring back the hot coffee. By the time I get back to the room, it smells of sweet shower gel. Kiara stands before me, towel drying her hair, but her raw beauty takes my breath away. I stand in the doorway watching her attempting to make the bed with a smirk.
“Oh. You’re back.”
“Yes. I’m back. You don’t have to do that. That’s what housekeeping is for,” I tell her, with a tray in my hand. I point to the balcony door, and she heads over to it as I walk through and set up the tray on the balcony. A space big for a few people.
“Wow. Chicago from up here is spectacular.”
“Yes. It is.” But I’m not looking at Chicago. I’m staring at her. She turns back, catching me admiring her. She might be dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, but she looks fresh and healthy as if she just stepped off a runway.
“Thanks.” She takes the coffee, hesitant, but wanting to say something to me.
“Speak. I’m not going to bite you.”
“You did last night,” she quips, and I laugh.
“Punishment.”
“That’s not funny. I think I’ve had enough punishment, don’t you?” She sips her coffee, and I sigh.
“No. I think you’re mine, and I own every piece of you. Don’t forget that,” I explain, reinforcing my dominance.
Disappointment shines on her face. “Just when I thought you were a human being.”
Grinning, I shake my head. “Just laying out the rules so we’re clear.
She frowns, looking out at the skyline, clearly uncomfortable after my declaration. “The rules aren’t clear. How is this going to work? You can’t keep me locked up in this penthouse of yours all day, every day.”
Amused, I nod my head in agreement. “I don’t plan to. You’re free to come and go as you please. Don’t think I can’t find you wherever you go, though. And you will carry a gun with you. I will show you how to use it for self-protection.”
“You will?”
“Yes. But don’t get any ideas about ever using it on me. The brotherhood will catch up with you and kill both you and your father. Nobody will ever find out about it,” I say with a deadpan delivery.
“Your mind is a dark palace. All I want to do is live the life of a normal twenty-two-year-old. Can I see my father?”
“Yes. Why not? I’m not going to keep you away from him. Again, you can go wherever you want, but you’ll return home to me every night. And in due time, you’ll bear my child.”
Her face drops as she gently sets her coffee cup down. “I’m not ready to have a kid,” she says quietly.
“I never said you were, but when the time is right—you will.” I smile, wanting to punish her for the little stunt of wearing sweatpants, and judging by her frosty temperament, I think I’ve been successful. I can’t let her see the real me. The one I keep hidden from everyone. The face of a monster will have to do.
A sullen silence stands between us, and it’s no fault but my own. I’ve wanted to break the ice with her, but the shadow side of me got the better of the conversation, and I don’t know how to get her back. “Can I work?”
“Yes. But the organization will need to be preapproved by the Bratva.”
A frown casts over her beautiful face. “Why?”
“For your safety and protection. We have plenty of enemies in the city of Chicago, and this means you’ll have to take care as you move about the city. That’s the reason for the gun.”
Kiara sighs glumly, and my chest goes through a weird tightening sensation. “There’s other sides to the Bratva. You can live a relatively stress-free life. You can buy whatever you want or need for yourself, and my staff are your staff.”
“I can’t buy you having a heart,” she fires back, her eyes full of hatred and disgust for me. I chuckle, an eyebrow cocking up, but her comment hits a little deeper than she wants it to. Long ago, I had a heart, but I learned from my father and the environment to guard it with lock and key.
“You are a surprise, and I think in the long run, we’re going to have a long and productive relationship.”
Kiara stares through me, standing up. “I’m not hungry right now. And as far as things I need, I want my phone back so I can call my father.”
“No problem. You stay. And I’ll leave. I have work to do anyway. Breakfast is on the way.”
Standing, I give her the space she wants for now, getting a shower and leaving her own personal black card on the kitchen table with a note that the driver will take her wherever she wants to go in the city. That should make up for my insufferable presence she seems to loathe, but as I turn into the belly of downtown Chicago, I plan on making Kiara Jane Utkin putty in my hands to do whatever I want.