Chapter 14 – Eduard
Last night was engraved in my mind. The memory refused to shake, regardless of how much I tried to shove it into the dark corner of my mind. It was difficult to sleep beside her afterward and even harder to leave her side this morning.
The memory drove me mad for more than one reason.
I hated that she broke my resolve, that she shattered my composure.
Lately, she had been making attempts to get a rise out of me, and my restraint had always won, even though it was a struggle.
It annoyed me that she seemed to have a personal key to my calm.
It seemed she had a way with making my walls of restraint collapse.
I wasn’t an easy man to excite or aggravate; I didn’t need to be told.
Even when I was, I prided myself on my ability to keep my reaction under wraps for as long as I wanted.
I could handle a business video call without twitching while receiving a handjob.
I could get up and leave in the middle of a blowjob.
I knew because I had done it before. I was that composed.
But Marielle seemed to possess the ability to push past that. Resisting her was a thousand times harder than I ever did for anyone. I had loved before, and I had been attracted to many people, but nothing ever drove me this crazy. Last night was just a rude reminder of that.
It infuriated me that I enjoyed kissing her.
I was angry at my body for relishing in my ability to make her make those sounds as my fingers fucked her.
I should have just walked past her. My eyes shouldn’t have lingered on her nipples that poked at the material of her top or her luscious, exposed, fair legs.
But I looked, and I couldn’t control myself.
I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her like it was my life force.
I couldn’t resist feeling her wetness and sliding my fingers into her.
As I stroked myself later that night, it was impossible for me not to imagine every drop of sperm that shot out of my dick entering the soft pussy my fingers had felt.
I couldn’t stop hearing her moans against my ears hours later.
I hated that I liked it, that a part of me was proud that I made her weak in the knees. I hated that it felt good to give her that pleasure. I hated that her pleasure made me feel good.
The most dangerous realization was that there was a tiny elation that came from being the center of her attention.
In a funny way, I liked that she made efforts to get to me.
I liked that she didn’t just leave the distance between us at that.
It pleased me, probably more than it should, that she was interested in making me shift my focus to her.
I felt…wanted. I was getting obsessed with her. And it could make my walls of restraint crumble the way they did last night. It could make me rethink the decision I made years ago. I might start letting her in.
I couldn’t risk that happening.
I decided to bury myself in work so I would have no time or space in my head to think of wanting last night again.
But as the days rolled by, I didn’t want Marielle any less. She was in my blood, on my breath. I wanted her everywhere. It wasn’t just hard to resist her; it was hard to watch her mind her business. I didn’t like it.
Refusing to give in, I got even busier with work.
When I learned of an old-time acquaintance holding an underground auction in Prague, I stepped in, choosing to go instead of pushing it over to one of my brothers.
“Marielle,” I called, making her pause but not look away from whatever game she was playing on her phone.
I stood at the foot of our bed, trying not to pay attention to how young and beautiful she looked sitting with her back against the headboard.
“I’m going to Prague,” I divulged.
She looked up at me and said, “Okay.”
Not even when?
She doesn’t want to know how long I’ll be away for?
Still, I went on.
“I leave tomorrow. I’ll be back in three days.”
“Okay,” she repeated, looking back down at her phone.
I didn’t think it would be a big deal—or any deal at all—to tell her about my travel plans and watch her act unaffected.
I was wrong.
****
The auction went well. I didn’t have to spend up to half the money I budgeted, and I got the relics and rare machinery I went for.
More generally, however, the trip was both a relief and a pain.
It was a relief to be away from the funny feelings and thoughts that Marielle’s presence brought. In a way, it felt good to wake up alone in bed, to not see an angel I was trying so hard to stay away from beside me.
But at the same time, the distance wasn’t enough to make my mind free from memories, all of which included her. I thought of calling her, but I settled for her guards.
My second and last day in Prague was when I got the call.
There had been an attack at the house. Marielle and everyone else were safe.
I couldn’t get back quickly enough.
I headed straight to the warehouse. My top men were already waiting for me there.
“I don’t have more than one question. Why did this attack happen when I was away, when my wife was at home?” I questioned without preamble.
After countless minutes of both meaningless and meaningful rambling, my men reached the same conclusion I had.
There was a mole.
Someone among us was either feeding an enemy information or working for them.
“Whoever it is, I promise to find them. He’ll regret the day he was born. And there won’t be a repeat before it happens,” I had warned before dismissing them.
I found Marielle in bed when I got home. Walking over to her side of the bed, I stood there, resisting the urge to remove the covers and hold her in my arms and check if she was hurt anywhere.
The thought of someone hurting her made my jaw clench in anger.
I won’t allow it.
The next day, I sat on the couch, reading a report while waiting for her to wake up.
“Good morning,” I greeted, making her head whip to the left where the couch was.
She brought her hands down mid-stretch, her sleepy eyes now bright.
“When did you get back?” she inquired, bringing the duvet up to cover her chest.
Like I hadn’t already seen the tank top that she wore nothing under.
“Last night.”
“Okay,” she breathed, stifling a yawn.
“My men told me about the attack.”
She shrugged, her gaze cool like she was expecting what I had to say.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“What does it matter to you?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her hand.
What?!
She thinks I’m not concerned about her?
“Of course, it matters.”
When she gave no indication of hearing, I told her, “I have a meeting to attend later tonight; you’ll come with me.”
“Why?” she asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.
“To keep you safe. Until I find the mole, I have to protect you at all costs.”
“You already have guards following me whenever you’re in the house,” she pointed out.
“They were with you when the house was attacked, too. One of them might be the mole, so I’ve asked them to stop for now.”
“To protect me,” she recited. “Just like why you married me.”
I stood, not liking the direction the conversation was going.
“It’s by 6:00 p.m. It’ll be at a club,” I dropped before leaving the room.
***
I had never heard of a man struggling to keep his hands off his own wife. But I had been doing exactly that since Marielle joined me in the back seat.
She looked stunning in brown leather pants and an orange single-sleeved top. Her red lips were as kissable as ever, and I couldn’t stop thinking of planting my fingers in her high bun.
I slowed my steps as we walked into the club, not wanting anyone to mistake whose she was.
I led her to the VIP section and asked Viktor to stand by her.
“Order anything you want. It’s a brief meeting. I’ll be back shortly,” I told her, bending to be eye-level with her.
“Take your time,” she remarked, the shimmery stuff around her eyes taunting me.
I kissed her lips.
From the way her eyes dilated, she was shocked.
Well, I hadn’t been planning to do it, either.
***
As I was refixing the top button of my suit after walking out of the casino, I saw a younger guy talking to Marielle.
She kept a straight face as he talked, smiling lovingly at her.
I stood there as Marielle’s lips moved shortly, clearly answering a question he had asked.
Then, her lips twitched.
She fucking smiled at the guy.
I wanted to kill him right there and then.
What the fuck was Viktor doing standing there while someone doted on my wife?
She looked up to me as I got closer, her face straight.
“We’re leaving,” I told her when I got to her.
She stood without a word.
Then the motherfucker had the balls to call after her, “Bye, beautiful.”
I pivoted.
I punched the guy’s face.
“Eduard!” I heard Marielle call.
“How dare you?! She’s my wife. If you as much as look at her again, you’ll be underground before you can blink,” I seethed before standing up straight.
“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything. Sorry,” he apologized through swollen, bloody lips.
“Eduard!” Marielle called again, coming over to where I stood. “What the hell?!”
If she had walked over to apologize to the guy, I would have ended his life in the club, but she didn’t. Her glare was on me instead.
“Let’s go,” I instructed.
She went ahead of me, pissed.
I was pissed, too.
I wasn’t a thug or street urchin who threw hands at clubs. But I couldn’t even stop to think because she was involved.
It’s always her.
***
It was five days after I took Marielle with me to a Bratva meeting—and we were on our way to another one.
“What’s that? It looks recent,” she asked, her voice soft.
I turned to the side to see what she was gesturing at.
It was the scar that snaked up my wrist from the pad of my thumb.
I hadn’t expected her to talk to me at all, but here she was, asking about my scar with genuine interest.
“It was last month or so,” I casually revealed, my eyes searching hers.
“What happened?” she questioned gingerly.
“It was a robbery. Some highway robbers thought we were ordinary drug dealers. Poured nails to deflate our tires and bombarded us. It was a bit rough since they were heavily armed, and we were outnumbered. But we fought our way through. Killed them all.”
Her eyes squinted a bit, like the thought of me being in pain did something to her. Watching her reaction did something to me.
She cleared her throat, breaking the silence.
“I never noticed it,” she revealed.
Without thinking, I blurted, “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she muttered before looking to the other side, her attention on the window.
I was torn.
I wanted her to keep noticing things about me and continue talking to me. I liked how easily conversation flowed between us. I wanted her to fill my ears with her excited laughter. Hell, I wanted her to smile at me.
But I also had to stay away because doing otherwise was dangerous. I had to pull back.
It was just hard.
***
I had entered our bedroom without expecting to see Marielle since it was still pretty early in the evening.
But Marielle was the one my gaze landed on as soon as I got to bed.
Seeing her wasn’t what made me drop my bag by the bed and go straight to her.
It was how she looked wearing my white shirt that stopped just above her knees.
She wasn’t aware of my presence as she moved and poked her head around the hangers, clearly looking for something.
Then she suddenly turned. Our eyes met.
The shirt was totally unbuttoned, and her black lingerie peeked at me.
I blinked once.
The energy between us sizzled with heated tension. I walked over to her, and she looked up at me. Just as my hand reached out to grab her, I came back to my senses.
I have to stop.
The shock and disappointment in her eyes as I pulled away at the last second made my chest ache.
There was something about the fact that I had been the one to reach out to her, that she wasn’t even trying to seduce me, that made my restraint even more painful. I felt like I had called her, only to end the call when she picked up.
As I had dinner that night, I thought over what I did—or didn’t do.
I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t regret it.
I fucking regretted it.
“Boss, Gary asked me to give you a message,” Harry informed, interrupting my thoughts.
“What message?”
“He asked me to remind you about next week’s event. Said you have the invite already.”
“Since I have the invite, why did he send you? Where did you even cross paths with him?”
“At the port earlier today, Boss.”
“Well, you’ve delivered the message.”
“He said to tell you that, since Sir Danil is out of town, your presence is critical.”
“Got it.”
“Goodnight, sir.”
I sighed.
I had forgotten about the event.
Marielle could come with me.
I’d attend.