Chapter 30
Vanya
Anger rips through me. While I rarely allow myself to experience the costly emotion, it’s become more common since meeting this infuriating woman.
My hands shake with pure, unfiltered, white-hot rage.
I curl them into fists, trying to find that smooth, practiced calm I wear like armor. It slips away from my grasp like water through sand. I don’t want to let her get to me, but she does. Every single damn time.
Paige continues to glare, her chin lifted in defiance despite her trembling.
How dare she act like she’s the wronged one?
“You think you know me?” My question echoes across the lake. “You think you’ve got me figured out?”
Her eyes jump to my fists, but she still refuses to back down.
My anger doesn’t frighten her, because she doesn’t know me well enough to be scared.
It’s that little shred of truth that snaps my last thread of control.
“You want to know what’s inside me?” I gravitate closer.
She stands her ground. “Vanya—”
“Nothing.” I snarl the word. “That’s why I could never charm you. You saw the emptiness inside.”
She gawks, no doubt shocked that I agree with her furious assessment.
“I’m skilled at reading people. Exceptional, even. I see what they want, what they need, and I become that thing.” My words tumble out one on top of the other. “It’s a gift. My only gift. The one thing I can do.”
Paige stares, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping with an emotion I can’t name. Horror, maybe.
Good. Let her see exactly what she called out.
Knowing this will likely chase Paige out of my life, I have to force the following confession. A confession I’ve never shared with a single person. Not even Roman.
“I grew up in a post-Soviet Russian orphanage. There were many of us. A lot of people die when the government collapses.”
Even after all these years, the memory is as vivid as if it were yesterday.
I don’t have Paige’s talent, but I can remember every taste, every sensation, and every smell.
Rooms where the chill never quite left, even in summer.
Clothes that rarely got washed, and when they did, only with harsh detergent that left us all itchy and chafed. No toys. Not enough food.
The way Alina’s hand felt in mine, so tiny and trusting. Fragile bones and too-thin skin.
“I had a little sister. Alina. Her name means bright or beautiful.” I can’t help glancing at Paige.
Her deep blue eyes reflect the cold moonlight. Though her face remains expressionless, she holds my gaze.
I look away first. “She was so small. Delicate. The other kids would push her around and steal her food unless I intervened. Then they’d pick on me.
I was small too. I couldn’t fight back at first. So, I learned to use my words.
I improved on my ability to read people.
Soon, I won over the staff.” Somehow, that memory still conjures a smile.
“I remember the first extra potato I got. Alina insisted I eat the first few bites.”
Gravel crackles under my feet, and the air shifts. Maybe she’s approaching.
“The cook was easy. The nannies were harder. Took longer to warm up. Eventually, I got them to stop beating us. After I convinced them that we were good children. Even the director came around. He was looking for a decent family to take us in. Both of us together. I worried about Alina being bullied again if I wasn’t there to protect her. ”
Near my side, Paige sniffles, or maybe sighs.
“Everything was going well until the director got replaced when I was ten. That happens a lot in a broken bureaucracy. The new man was like no one I had met before. A sadist put in charge of children. He’d smile, all the way up to his eyes, and…
I completely misread him. I thought I was winning him over… until the day Alina was ‘adopted.’”
Paige inhales sharply. I focus on the lake, on the little ripples in the water.
“Even now, I can see the terror painted across my sister’s face.
She didn’t fight, though, because I’d told her to be good.
When I tried to talk to the director, he beat me and said he sent her away because I dared to defy him.
My time there after that, I was almost glad Alina wasn’t around.
I was punished every day, told I was a demon. ”
“Oh, Vanya…” Paige’s fingers fall onto my shoulder, warming my skin through my gray t-shirt.
I curve my hand over hers. “A few years later, Peter Kozlov, Roman’s father and the Pakhan at the time, visited the orphanage.
He said he saw a usable trait in me, an intelligence.
He paid off the director and whisked me away.
Legally, I was adopted by another family in the Bratva.
Really, though, I was Peter’s ward and went straight into training. ”
I can still taste that first meal I had at the compound. I got sick from eating all that rich cuisine. Peter’s mom chewed him out for not thinking. She switched me back to potatoes, then gradually added a tiny bit of other foods. As many times a day as I wanted, until I could stomach a full meal.
“I never would’ve known.” Paige shoots me a weak smile. “Your English is so smooth. I thought you were born here.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “You didn’t like Professor Orlov’s accent?”
“It’s good. Not perfect.”
I huff a soft laugh. Of course she clocked that.
“The Kozlovs weren’t just a new life in America.
They were my salvation. They gave me a purpose.
A reason to live. A family to protect. A professional job to do with my skills.
Years later, after I’d gotten adept enough to call in some favors, I searched for her. ”
The hope that lights up Paige’s face nearly kills me.
I glance away. “Even with all the resources I had access to, I never found her. My baby sister, my beautiful Alina, vanished. Eventually, I learned that, shortly after she was supposedly ‘adopted,’ she was killed by some derelict in an alley for her coat and shoes.”
Paige’s distressed gasp slices through my chest. “Oh, Vanya. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
I duck my head, no longer willing to meet her eyes. I don’t want to see the pity swimming in them.
She squeezes my shoulder before reaching for my hand, which I clutch gratefully.
“So, yes. You’re right. I’m hollow. All the love I had, the pride, the hope, it all died.
Rotted away. I would’ve died, too, except I chose to scoop it out.
Every bit of rot, every emotion that caused me pain.
And I kept scooping until I was empty.” I force myself to meet her eyes again.
“That’s why I could never charm you. You saw that void.
The only thing I could offer you was the thrill of crime. ”
I brace myself, expecting her to recoil from the broken thing I revealed myself to be.
Instead, she shifts closer. “That’s not true. You couldn’t charm me because I knew you would never want me for me.”
That wasn’t the reaction I anticipated. “What?”
“I knew when you approached me. You never asked me out, just kept showing up at the library over and over again. So your visits obviously related to work and had nothing to do with me at all.”
Though her voice remains steady, tears roll down her cheeks. Her words hit like a physical blow because Paige’s right.
I only paid attention to her because of the mission. But that was before I knew her. Now that I do and I’ve seen how truly incredible she is…
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. But you being…cored out… That’s not why your charm didn’t work. Not because there’s nothing inside you, but because I knew you weren’t really seeing me.” She chokes out a laugh. “It was your dexterity that won me over.”
Well, damn.
Heat floods through, melting most of my cold rage.
“My dexterity? You mean this?” I wiggle my fingers at her in a come-hither movement as I narrow the distance between us.
“Exactly that.” She doesn’t back away, though she does squirm. “Among other things.”
“You want to know what got me hooked?”
She blinks, droplets sparkling on her lashes. “What?”
“Well, first it was noticing how beautiful you are, despite your efforts to hide it. But I ignored that since I was on the job. Until…” I raise my left hand, the one I used on her under the table at the restaurant, and brush a few tears away.
“I got a taste of you. After that, I knew I’d spend the rest of my days yearning for more. ”
She startles like I’ve just turned on a vibrator hidden in her panties.
Which is a good thought for later.
“You really do underestimate how amazing you look. Any man would want to charm you. To get in your pants.” I suit action to words by sliding my hand down the front of her sweats, where I find her soaking wet. “Fuck, Paige.” I circle her clit with my thumb, slipping two fingers inside her.
She clenches around me and gasps.
I study her face as my fingers work her. How she can pivot so quickly from fury to arousal is a sight to behold. Though I guess I’m no better. “Is this what you want? My dexterity?”
“Yes.” She starts panting and rocks against my hand while clutching my arms. “Yes.”
Then she kisses me.
Or I kiss her.
My hands glide down her hair and face to latch onto her hips and tug her to me. Her sweet little gasps and moans go straight to my cock.
“Vanya—”
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I hike her shirt, exposing her skin to the frigid air. “Do you know that? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”
She shivers under my palms, but I don’t think it’s from the cold.
I back her up against the car, the hood still warm from the engine. I hoist her up, then yank her pants down her legs and toss them aside.
The chilly air hits her bare skin. I watch goosebumps rise on her flesh before meeting her hungry eyes.
“Vanya…” She writhes on the hood, her head thrown back and her legs spread wide. Her whole body’s completely exposed under the night sky.
“Come for me, so I can flip you over and fuck you deep.” I open her with my fingers, my thumb pressing circles on her clit.
Then she grabs my wrist.
“No.” Her voice is dry, rough from panting. “Not like this.”
Tonight is clearly the night of surprises. “Paige—”
“This time, I want to fuck you. I want to call the shots.” She sits up, her eyes blazing. “You’ve been making decisions and directing everything. I want to…” She stops, licks her lips, and swallows. “I want you.”
Me.
After hearing how I failed, she still wants me.
Relief—along with a warm emotion that reminds me of fire in the middle of a Russian winter—washes through me, amplifying the lust into a fever I never believed possible.
“Whatever you say, Ms. Kisner.” I tease her, because if I don’t lower the heat by a few degrees, I may blow and humiliate myself.
She pushes me back and climbs off the hood. Then she reaches for my fly, unzips my pants, and removes them with shaking fingers.
Frozen in place, my gaze locks on her as she focuses on her task.
She’s so incredibly stunning, it almost hurts to look at her.
I groan, my hips jerking forward involuntarily when she wraps her hands around my cock.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I surrender control.
She kisses my jaw. “You’re going to let me have this.” It’s not a question. “You’re going to let me take what I want.”
I swallow, trying to keep my body in check. “Yes.” The word comes out strangled. “Whatever you want.” As if I could deny her anything in this moment.
She guides me back against the car, and I hop up onto the hood. The metal is cool against my ass, but I don’t care, because she’s crawling, straddling me, lining me up.
Then she sinks down onto me.
This isn’t the rush I’m craving, but I battle the bone-deep desire to thrust until my balls slap her ass. She’s in control here. Though she’s so damn slow, I might die.
Still, she’s tight, hot, and perfect. She clenches around my dick, her muscles pulling taut around me as she raises and lowers herself in a steady rhythm. All the way up until I think I’ll slip free, then down again, ending in a wiggle that results in her gripping my length like a vise.
I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything except grip her hips and try not to lose my load.
Her hands settle on my shoulders so she can hold herself in place as she rides me. “I’m in charge now.”
Hell yes, baby.
She rides me like she’s claiming territory. Hard, fast, and desperate. This isn’t making love. It’s not a connection. Hell, it isn’t even what we did at the gun range.
This time, she’s using me for her pleasure. Taking what she needs.
It’s rough. Messy. Nothing gentle about it.
And I love every damn second.
“Tell me.” She pants, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Tell me you want this.”
My own words thrown back at me.
“I want this.” I groan as she performs that little wiggle again. “I want you. Fuck, Paige, I want—”
She slams down harder, derailing my train of thought.
My fingers dig into her hips forceful enough to bruise. She doesn’t slow down. Just keeps riding me, her breasts sliding over my chest with every thrust.
This isn’t about technique, control, or any of the things I usually pride myself on.
All our anger, grief, and desperation tangle together into a riotous knot.
This is raw. Primal.
The car rocks under us, the suspension squealing, but I barely notice anything except the squeeze of her tight little pussy.
“Vanya…” Her rhythm falters. “I’m—”
“Take it.” It’s like the world’s best game of bobbing for apples as I attempt to catch her nipples between my lips while she rides with even more abandon. “Take everything.”
And she does.
With one hand on my shoulder and the other on my knee, she anchors me in place.
She comes hard, clenching around me while her cry echoes across the empty lot. Raw and unfiltered and perfect and so, so beautiful.
I follow her within seconds, emptying into her with an animalistic growl. I can’t hear anything past the train rushing through my ears. Just sensation and heat and the overwhelming feeling of finally letting go.
The air is cold on my sweat-slicked skin. Lights from the city glitter in the distance, shining against the night sky.
Paige collapses forward onto my chest, quaking and spent.
I expect her to pull away, to climb off and create distance.
She doesn’t move.
She stays still, with her head on my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck. Her tangled hair is everywhere, spilling across me. Her beating heart roots in the hollow spot in my chest.
For the first time in years, I’m not thinking three steps ahead. I’m just here in this moment, with her.
This is what home feels like. Not a place. A person.
This person.