Chapter Iskra
Iskra
On my back again. Looking at the ceiling again.
Humiliated. Ashamed. And furious at myself for being unable to shut him out — for finding the stride, for the sounds I made, for the way my body answered him every single time regardless of what my mind decided in advance.
He groaned.
I blinked.
He rummaged beside the bed and I felt him slide pillows beneath my hips again. Then he rolled off me and lay on his back.
I glanced at him.
His arm was thrown across his eyes. He didn’t move.
I looked away.
Then looked back.
Could he hurt Ruslan? Was it an empty threat?
I bit my lip and returned to the ceiling.
He wouldn’t do it himself. The Pakhan gave orders—he didn’t do the dirty work. That's what his brotherhood was for. Minions to do his bidding.
But that wasn’t the same as safe.
It wasn’t worth the risk.
He shifted beside me.
I didn’t look.
Padded footsteps. The rustle of clothes. A pause.
Then the click.
I exhaled slowly.
I could still feel his fingers around my neck. The imprint on my hips and the feel of his swollen cock inside me. My nipples tingled from his harsh treatment. The cool air didn’t help.
I reached for the duvet.
He would be back in the morning.
And start the cycle all over again.
??
??
??
I cursed him under my breath when I had to grip the banister to make it down the stairs. Three days of non-stop sex. He had mapped my cycle with the dedication of a man running a military operation and deployed it accordingly.
I paused on the landing and closed my eyes when I felt his come seep into my underwear.
“Do you need assistance, Mrs Dragunov?”
Radovan’s voice made it worse.
I took a slow breath and opened my eyes.
He was a few years younger than Vadim—dark hair slicked back with a side parting, eyes that managed to be simultaneously blank and smug. The distinct expression of a man who knew exactly what had been happening for three days and had filed it professionally while enjoying it personally.
“I hope someone shoots you in the ass one day,” I hissed, then straightened my back and forced myself down the remaining stairs.
The chafing, the bruises, the carpet burns—all of it pushed to the back of my mind. Irrelevant. Manageable.
“And I hope it’s a woman who does it,” I said as I walked past him.
“Of course, Mrs Dragunov.”
I made it to the kitchen.
“Did you sleep well?” Olya asked, looking up from the stove with a small frown. “You look a little tired, dear.”
Radovan cleared his throat behind me.
I pulled my phone out of my cardigan pocket.
Me: I don’t want Radovan anywhere near me.
I stuffed the phone back and stared at the table.
My ring glinted in the morning light coming through the kitchen window.
It bothered me more than it should that he wore his now—the gold appearing on his hand seemed suspect.
Mine was to remain on at all times. I had left my rings in the bathroom once and I genuinely thought the vein in his temple was going to burst.
My phone buzzed.
Vadim: No.
Argh.
Me: Fine. When my blood pressure gets too high it will pose a health risk to your heir.
The message bubbles appeared.
Paused.
Nothing.
The bubbles appeared again.
Vadim: I can increase his radius.
Me: Far enough for me not to see his ugly fat face?
Vadim: I’ll ask him to face away from you at home.
I put the phone down and reached for my tea.
A small concession. But I didn’t have to look at Radovan’s smug face, which was worth more than it should have been on a morning like this.
My phone buzzed again and the screen lit up.
Vadim: I’ll be home for lunch. Be ready.
I stared at the notification and sipped my tea. The cream he had left me hadn’t helped much. I lifted my phone with a groan.
Me: Please, can’t you use a syringe or something?
Vadim: Fresh from the source is best. Be ready.
Blyad.
??
??
??
The rapid knock on the bathroom door made me jump.
“Are you going to be long? I need to get back—I have a situation,” Vadim said, trying the door handle.
“Leave a deposit on the nightstand. I’ll sort it out,” I shouted through the door, turning the tap off.
“Nice try. Get out here.”
I was exhausted.
What the hell.
I unlocked the door.
Two more days and I would get some respite.
??
??
??
It was the last day and he was working from home. My vagina was not safe.
I carefully opened my bedroom door. Radovan stood with his back to me.
“Where is your Pakhan?” I whispered.
“Training in the basement.”
I rolled my eyes.
No wonder he was so excitable all the time.
I made quickly for the stairs. Radovan’s heavier footsteps followed at a distance—at least I didn’t have to look at his face. I was halfway to the kitchen when Vadim appeared in the doorway.
His hair was wet and curling at the ends. Shorts, trainers, bare chest and arms that practically glistened with exertion. I stared at the stars on his shoulders before my eyes dipped lower to the sword.
He tossed the towel over one shoulder and shook his drink before flipping the cap. Head tipped back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed it down in long pulls.
He lowered the bottle and looked at me.
“Eat and come upstairs,” he said, and walked past me.
I turned to watch him go and caught Radovan’s smirk instead. Arms crossed, suit pressed, entirely too pleased with himself.
They were all the same. Black suits and smug looks and not a shred of discretion between them.
My face burned as I walked into the kitchen.
It felt as though everyone in the house knew exactly what had been happening for the past six days. Which they did. Which somehow made it worse.
“You look better today,” Olya said, turning from the fridge with a small approving nod. “A bit of colour in your cheeks.”
I sat. I ate.
Then I went upstairs.
This is for self-preservation, I told myself. For Ruslan.