Chapter 32 Mikail
MIKAIL
Iroll out of bed, my chest heaving with a deep sigh. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I see the tangled sheets—a war zone of my sleepless night.
Bringing her home is getting harder each passing day. Her place is next to me, and I am done stealing moments.
I shouldn’t have indulged her, but I am putty in my woman’s hands, and I am not ashamed to accept this irrefutable truth.
Thankfully, for my sanity, the secrecy will end. Each day I don’t confess, the guiltier it makes me in my brother’s eyes. Torn between putting an end to this and building a life with her with no more delay, I am a moody asshole.
The asshole has it all. And I am done being miserable at his expense.
I can’t change the past. But sure as hell, I have the power to shape our future. There isn’t a life worth living if she’s not in it.
Loving her is my destiny.
Taking her is my prerogative.
Slipping into my walk-in closet, I bypass my suits and open the safe. I take the small box out and flick the lid, revealing the large emerald-cut diamond set in a platinum band of glittering diamonds. It’s precious but not even a smidgeon of how precious she is to me.
I’ve never been impatient. Everything I’ve built demanded strategy, focus, and a level head. But I guess I’ve never craved something as badly as her.
Even when my life imploded, I became a block of ice who issued an ultimatum. Follow me or follow death. Ruthlessness is my nature. To be in command is what I aspire to. I am not a follower; I am a leader.
Soon, I tell myself and place the box back inside.
Dressing in a suit, I head downstairs. At the dining table, as I eat my breakfast alone, I brood, wishing for my woman.
Calla walks inside, oozing self-confidence. When my sister steps into a room, everyone becomes alert, sensing she’s dangerous.
She doesn’t need me, nor my protection. She can do that on her own. That wouldn’t stop me from giving her whatever she desires just to appease the regret of losing all those years with her.
“Is Dahlia okay?” I ask, the thought unbalancing me. I shoot up, needing to check on her.
Calla rolls her eyes at me. “Calm down. Of course she is. Sit and let’s have breakfast together.”
“Why are you really here? It’s a wonder Enzo let you out of his sight.”
For a woman who has wanted to be free of her shackles, she loves being his. And I love reminding her of that.
I loathed her presence in his life, in my city, when I thought she was an assassin sent to kill my best friend. All my hatred and desire to kill her vanished once I found out she’s my sister.
Enzo kept her identity from me for months. I would have used that as leverage for my selfish reasons, but what I’ve kept from him is worse.
For years, he has tried to find out what happened. But with Dahlia’s refusal, I spun the story that my father and his men helped me find her. It was easier to pin the fault on a human trafficking gang that had been on our list for a while.
And Enzo had no reason to doubt me. I was mourning and thirsty for revenge. He thought it was because of losing my father and I had to honor that man by taking on the role of the Pakhan, even though all I wanted to do was spit on his grave.
He was a lesser man. You don’t use innocent women to appease your desire for vengeance. And if you use my woman, regardless of who you are to me, death is the only outcome.
“Tell him already,” she says haughtily. Her voice drips with command.
She might be my sister, but no one tells me what to do.
I arch a brow that implies she should tone it down.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she pins me with a hard stare. “And I’m here because I care about your life. I also care that my best friend gets what she has wanted since forever.”
“If you’re so eager, why don’t you tell him?”
I know it’s eating at her.
“Because I hope you two will come clean, and I need to be near, so it won’t end up in a bloodbath.”
If anyone could calm Enzo down, it would be her.
“I’ll talk to him. Alone.”
We will fight, and it might escalate, but my best friend and brother will find out from me. Sure as fuck, I won’t hide behind my sister, and I don’t want Dahlia there. That would only make me lose it.
When monsters love, their world becomes that person. I am afraid of what I could do to Enzo in a heated mood.
Panic flashes in her eyes. “That’s not a good idea. Don’t be stupid.”
“I said I’ll deal with it,” I grit out.
“Stubborn.” She stands up and comes to my side.
Placing her palm on my arm, she sighs. “I don’t want to come across as selfish, but I finally tasted what life could be like. I’m happy for the first time. Having a family for the first time. And I don’t want things to change.”
“It’s not selfish, it’s human,” I assure her.
“Enjoy tonight. And this is the last concert of Dahlia’s I’ll skip.” She so subtly lets me know our time is slipping away. But knowing that my sister and woman are so close and would do anything for each other warms my chest.
She kisses my cheek and, at the door, stops, saying over her shoulder, “You two are keeping two secrets. We’re hiding one.
I’m afraid that it will come to bite us all in the ass.
We need to become an impenetrable, unshakable unit.
Neither of us needs to protect the other.
We’re the Mafia and Bratva joined together. ”
That’s new information. Interesting.
“What secret?”
“You first, brother,” she says, sashaying out.
Exactly what I needed. More stress to deal with.
Pacing like a caged lion wanting to rip its cage apart to break free, my mind runs with hundreds of possibilities at once. What secret could Enzo keep from me? And fucking why?
My phone rings, pulling me out of my thoughts. I am inclined to ignore it, as showing that I am distracted is very dangerous in my position.
A smile curls the arches of my mouth the moment I see the pic accompanied by a message from Dahlia.
Her lips pucker in a big kiss, followed by a text.
Your woman misses her man.
Fuck. She’s not helping because if I listen to my first instinct, I will drive straight through those gates and claim her as mine.
I unbutton my shirt and palm the dahlia flower, taking a pic before sending it to her.
Love you, zhizn moya.
It’s her concert tonight, and I will bring her back here so we can have some undisturbed time. Tomorrow morning, I will drive to Enzo and confess.
I don’t want the attention to be on anything other than her tonight.
Getting in my car, I need to hear her sweet voice, so I call her.
She picks up right away, her breathing a bit labored.
Surely, she’s rehearsing for tonight. Even though she mastered her talent.
She doesn’t need notes because she would create new ones.
No wonder the greatest philharmonic orchestras in the world have wanted her.
Yet, I came to realize she doesn’t play for fame, but because her soul plays heavenly music and her fingers translate it for us mortals.
“I always wondered,” I begin, deep in thought.
“And you haven’t asked?” She giggles. “Wow. Color me surprised.”
“I’ve given you as much personal space as I could,” I remind her, groaning.
“Sure.” She doesn’t sound miffed by the knowledge that I have no qualms about disrespecting her personal space, and I don’t sound regretful. I am not. And I won’t lie either.
“Does playing consume you? While you make it appear easy, the passion bleeding onto the piano makes me curious if it’s a compulsion or desire.”
“Hmm, interesting question.” A small pause follows as if she’s rummaging for the right answer.
“It’s a bit of both. I would rather stop breathing than not play.
The piano is my greatest escape and my cage.
I know that if I don’t play, I will implode.
There’s this music I must create or else I would go mad. ”
A low groan rumbles in my throat in answer. Good God, I can’t believe I am fucking jealous of an inanimate object.
She giggles, knowing me too well. “You have the biggest part of my heart. Will have the bigger part of my life, Mika. I love and bleed for my piano. But I love and live for you.”
“Good.”
“Just good?” she gasps, the sound ringing of theatrics, and that triggers my chuckle.
“See you tonight, brat.”
A peal of giggles rings over the line. “Someone just wants an excuse to spank me.”
“You miss it, don’t you?” I ask, my voice deepening with desire, turning hoarse.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She’s indeed a brat. But fuck if her playing these types of games doesn’t make me hard as stone.
“Later, baby girl,” I say, the threat lacing through my hoarse voice.
I hang up, pumped up to work faster, more efficiently so I can finish sooner and spend more time with her.
At headquarters, I postpone meeting with Enzo and head to my office first, but he’s there, waiting for me. It’s been awkward between us lately, but damn, everything shifted. Under his scrutiny, I avoid his gaze.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, but it feels more like he’s baiting me.
“Are you worried about my beauty sleep now?” I puff out a breath of annoyance.
“When was the last time you fucked?” He ignores the folders stacked on the table, and so do I. We pay our employees wages that are well above market rates, and they always deliver. Our business thrives, both the ones we do in the day and especially the ones we conduct at night.
“Not your fucking business,” I grit out.
“Hmm. What broke your celibacy?” He analyzes me like a judge deciding the punishment. “You can deny it, of course, but I don’t know which one I would believe more.”
I remain silent when he adds, “You’ve changed. A few weeks ago, I was worried sick because you seemed to be constantly in pain. Now, you’re dripping with guilt. It makes me wary, and that would set a risky precedent.”
“We’re fine, asshole,” I sigh, jerking my chin at him. “I wouldn’t betray you. That doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. He narrows his eyes, throwing a folder at me.
I flick through the papers.
“With the city expanding, we need to be united more than ever,” he tells me as if I need a reminder.
I stare him down. “My loyalty, our purpose, has remained intact.”
“Good.” He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “With the families in our city, I’m just eager to show them what we have achieved, how much our power has expanded.”
“They’re well aware.”
Both of us lead our families with a brutal but fair fist. What we don’t tolerate is greed, and we punish betrayal. Our cleansing has become infamous.
“Are you getting soft?” I goad him.
“Fuck you. Between the hotheads in my family and the motherfuckers in yours, we can call ourselves lucky nothing has happened.”
“They respect us too much.”
“People always try to find loopholes, Mika.” What he doesn’t say rattles between us like a venomous snake, ready to strike.
“That’s why we must always present a united front.”
I nod and pull him into a side hug, slapping his back. “I would die for you.”
“Without blinking,” he finishes.
The blood oath we took pulses between us. But it is not as powerful as her call, and the vow I want to make to Dahlia.
“I’m heading to the club,” I say after I sign on the dotted lines.
There is no question of trust between us. Both of us would sign on a blank page if the other requested it.
He nods and resumes signing. We each lead our own company, but they’re under a larger holding company we co-lead. In the same spirit as brACON.
Making sure the other side of the business runs efficiently, I step inside the club.
The preparations for tonight are in full swing. The party life knows no end. It stopped entertaining me a long time ago. I experienced firsthand the depravity of humans, so I wanted to create a playground. It serves my bank account well.
Sex parties are going on; drugs are being freely consumed. Fight cages. Each private section caters to a certain clientele. The anonymity is just for show. If you’re on my list, someone who might help me get farther, I’ll use and blackmail you without a second thought.
In my youth, I tried it all. Just thinking my son will do the same shit makes me want to bash my head against the wall.
There’s no point in not having any. Dahlia will want children eventually, and I will give her as many as she wants.
I’ll deal with the little shitheads later.
And fuck if the thought of pumping her full of my cum until she swells with my child doesn’t make me harder than usual.
Glancing at the clock, I urge it to pass faster as I do a round with my men. Everything goes smoothly, as always, but that doesn’t mean they don’t ask my approval for every little thing, taking forever.
Hours later, I am back home, hurrying to get there before her concert starts.
The only reason I will miss her playing is if I am dead. I’ve scheduled everything in my life so I can be there for her every Saturday evening to watch her play.
I pushed through when it felt like every press of the key dug the knife deeper into my heart.
I was right there with her as she snatched my hand and brought me straight to hell and back with every new composition.
For four years. No break.
I would have endured a hundred years longer, because that has always been my role, to support her and be by her side, through the good and the bad times.
Now, I am taking on a different role, and this one has been the best yet. Her man.
As she improvised the last time, a surge of excitement rushes through me to hear what she comes up with next.
To me, it feels like she healed, breaking free of her past. From taking tentative steps, she now soars, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.
The past traps you. The future enslaves you. You either live in the present or cease to live at all.
I will be there for her for the rest of our lives with outstretched arms, ready to catch her, carry her. Ready to make sure she always has a safe place to call home.
The moment I see her, the world ceases to exist.
My focal point becomes her. In my peripheral vision, I catch the staff finishing up the last preparations for tonight, but I march straight to her and back her into the back, the curtain folding around us, hiding us.
I am slipping. That’s why it’s imperative to tell my best friend the truth tomorrow morning and not a moment later.
My desire to claim her is urgent.