Chapter 14Ivan
CHAPTER 14
IVAN
I sit at my desk, reviewing security reports when Jenny enters my office. Her chestnut hair cascades over her shoulders, framing her face beautifully. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her.
“Ivan, I’m going Christmas shopping with my mother this afternoon,” she says, a hint of hesitation in her voice.
I pause, considering her words. The thought of her leaving the safety of my protection makes me uneasy, but I can’t keep her caged. She’s not a prisoner, after all, and this is her mother. She deserves that connection—the kind I can only envy, since the closest I came was Lena. All memories of my mother are gone from my mind, since she was dead before I was old enough to really remember her.
“Very well,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “Andre and Daniil will accompany you.”
Jenny nods, relief washing over her features. “Thank you. I won’t be gone long.”
As she turns to leave, I call out, “Jenny?”
She pauses, looking back at me expectantly.
“Be careful,” I say softly.
She flashes me a smile, though she seems nervous. I’ve noticed that the last couple of days. There’s clearly something on her mind, but I’m trying to be patient and let her bring it to me.
“I will,” she says. The door closes behind her a second later, and I’m left alone with my thoughts. I trust Andre and Daniil with my life—and more importantly, with Jenny’s. Still, a nagging worry gnaws at me.
Hours pass as I immerse myself in work, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Jenny. Suddenly, Marcus bursts into my office, his face ashen.
“Boss,” he says, his voice tight. “We have a situation.”
I’m on my feet instantly. “What is it?”
Marcus swallows hard. “It’s Alexei. He’s taken one of our men.”
My blood runs cold. “Who?”
“Dmitri. He was dropping off contracts at one of our warehouses when Alexei’s men grabbed him.”
I clench my fists, rage boiling inside me. “And?”
Marcus hesitates. “They...they tortured him, boss. Sent us a video.”
I close my eyes, willing myself to remain calm. “Is he alive?”
“Barely,” he says. “We got him back, but it’s bad. Dr. Olsen isn’t sure if he’ll make it.”
I nod, trying to keep from revealing my rage. This is a message, a brutal escalation of the already tense situation between Alexei and me, and a response to our actions last month, after he invaded “Markov Entertainment.” Marcus and a team hit three of his nightclubs, torching them to the ground. Apparently, the message to back off has faded from his mind.
Before I can formulate a response, my phone rings. I glance at the screen. Unknown number. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I answer. “Markov,” I say, my voice cold.
“Hello, old friend.” Alexei’s smooth voice comes through the line. “Did you enjoy my little gift?”
I grip the phone tighter, biting back the urge to curse at him. “You’ve made a grave mistake, Alexei.”
He laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “Have I? I think not. This is just the beginning, Ivan. You should have stayed out of my territory.”
“Your territory?” I snarl. “Atlanta was never yours.”
“Times change,” he says casually. “You should know that better than anyone. After all, wasn’t it you who taught me that lesson back at ‘St. Sergius?’”
The mention of our shared past makes me grimace. “That was a long time ago, Alexei. We were different people then. I thought you were a good person in those days.
“Were we?” he muses. “Ah, yes. You seemed so… loyal back then.” Bitterness laces his tone before it shifts back to the smooth, carefree tone he’s affected. “I seem to remember you being quite the protector. Always looking out for the younger boys, weren’t you? Tell me, Ivan, who’s protecting you now?”
I grit my teeth. “I don’t need protection. You’re the one who should be worried. Underestimating me is a severe blunder.”
Alexei chuckles. “Oh, I’m not underestimating you, old friend. I know exactly what you’re capable of. That’s why I’m here.”
“You should have stayed in Russia.”
“And miss all the fun?” Alexei’s voice drips with sarcasm. “Besides, I don’t need a protector these days. I’ve grown up, Ivan. I’m not that scared little boy anymore.”
I close my eyelids as memories of our shared past flood my mind. The cold nights at the orphanage, the fights, and the bond we once shared. It all seems so distant now. Opening my eyes, I ask, “What do you want, Alexei?” My patience is wearing thin.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. When he speaks again, his voice is lower and more menacing. “I want what’s mine, Ivan. Everything you’ve built here? It belongs to me now.”
I laugh humorlessly. “You’re delusional if you think I’ll just hand over my empire to you.”
“Oh, I don’t expect you to hand it over,” he says. “I’m going to take it. Piece by piece. Starting with what matters most to you.”
My heart stops. Jenny. He can’t possibly know about her, can he?
As if reading my thoughts, Alexei continues, “That woman staying with you? The lovely Jenny Graham. She’s quite beautiful in a plain American girl way.”
Rage explodes within me. “If you so much as look at her?—”
“You’ll what?” Alexei interrupts. “Kill me? You can try.”
I struggle to keep my voice steady. “Stay away from her. This is between you and me.”
He laughs again, and it’s a cold, grating sound. “Everything is fair game now, old friend. You should have thought of that before you crossed me by telling Vyacheslav I wasn’t suited for Bratva life. I guess I showed you and him I was. I built everything I have by myself. I guess I was always alone.”
The line goes dead, leaving me in stunned silence. I lower the phone, my mind reeling from the implications of Alexei’s words. It’s clear he’s punishing me for being honest when Vyacheslav asked me if I thought Alexei was cut out for our life. Back then, I’d considered him too reckless and too prone to be driven by anger to take an active role.
I’d been trying to spare him and the Bratva when I told our mentor to give him something in administration instead. Alexei had been enraged at being undercut, as he saw it, and internalized that anger toward me instead of Vyacheslav.
Marcus, who has been standing silently by the door, clears his throat. “Boss? What do we do?”
I exhale raggedly, forcing myself to think clearly. “Make sure Jenny is protected at all times. Then get me everything we have on Alexei’s operations in Atlanta. Maybe even back to Russia, since he might have connections there that overlap here. I want to know every safe house, every associate, every whore, and even every damn coffee shop he visits. I want to know it all.”
Marcus nods, already pulling out his phone to relay the orders.
I turn to the window, staring out at the city skyline. Somewhere out there, Alexei is plotting his next move, and Jenny, my sweet, innocent Jenny, is caught in the crossfire.
“I’ll protect you,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “No matter what it takes.” Needing her home, I pull out my phone, dialing Andre’s number. It rings once before he answers.
“Yes, boss?”
“Bring her home,” I say, my voice leaving no room for argument. “Now.”
Almost an hour later, the elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, and Jenny bursts into my penthouse like a hurricane. Her cheeks burn bright red. The sharp click of her heels against the marble floor echoes through the space as she marches toward the kitchen, shopping bags swinging from her arms.
“Are you happy now?” She slams the bags onto the pristine white marble counter, the impact making my crystal decanter rattle. “I had to make up some ridiculous excuse to my mother about why I needed to rush home.” She whirls to face me, crossing her arms over her chest, the silver-gray sweater she wears bunching with the movement. “What could possibly be so urgent that I had to abandon her in the middle of Lenox Square two weeks before Christmas?”
The muscle in her jaw ticks as she glares at me, waiting for my response. Even furious, she’s beautiful—though I know better than to tell her that right now. Each step toward Jenny is deliberate, my shoes silent against the plush carpet. “I received a call from Alexei Morozov.”
Her brown eyes narrow, and she drops her arms to her sides. “The one who’s threatening you?” Her voice carries a mix of confusion and disbelief.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. The words scrape against my throat, harsh and raw. “He threatened you specifically.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my rage in check.
Jenny’s face pales. “How does he even know about me?”
“He’s been watching.” I close the distance between us. “Like I have.”
She stiffens. “About that. How long exactly have you been watching me, Ivan? The truth this time.”
“Since the night I saved you from Stephen.” I maintain eye contact, willing her to see my honesty. “One year ago.”
“That’s it? Nothing before then?”
“No. I saw him attack you, stopped him, and after that...” I run my hand through my hair. “I needed to ensure your safety.”
“For a year?” Her voice rises. “You watched me for an entire year without saying anything? I still find that hard to believe with how…intense you are.”
“You stayed single that whole time.” A possessive satisfaction fills my voice. “Made my job easier. No competition to eliminate.”
Her eyes widen. “You would have killed anyone I dated?”
“Yes.”
“That’s...” She shakes her head. “That’s insane.”
“I tried keeping my distance.” I move toward her, each step narrowing the space between us until the scent of her perfume fills my senses. My body responds to her proximity like a compass finding true north. “Then I saw how they treated you at ‘Silver Fox Productions.’”
She crosses her arms, brows drawing together. “What?”
“Your former colleagues?” Dark satisfaction spreads through me as I contemplate their fate. One corner of my mouth lifts in a predatory smile that holds no warmth. “The ones who spread rumors about you sleeping your way to promotions? Who ‘accidentally’ deleted your presentations before meetings?” I tap my fingers against my thigh. “They won’t find work in entertainment again. Not after how they hurt you.”
Jenny’s mouth falls open. Her fingers grip the edge of her sweater. “What did you do?”
“Made some calls.” I shrug, remembering the pleasure of crushing their futures with a few well-placed phone calls. “Sent some messages. They’re blacklisted now. No production company in Atlanta will touch them. Or New York. Or Los Angeles. Or Toronto.”
She shakes her head, brown curls swaying. “You ruined their careers because they were mean to me?” She doesn’t seem angry. More…intrigued.
“ Da . I’d do anything to protect you. I would have stayed in the shadows longer, trying to keep you safe from my world, but when the men I hired to watch Stephen and his father revealed Stephen’s father arranged his return…” I clench my hands into fists. “I had to act.”
Jenny tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, studying me intently. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the soft hum of the penthouse’s climate control system.
“I suppose...” She wraps her arms around herself. “I suppose I’m glad you’re not hiding it anymore. The watching, I mean.” Her lips press into a thin line. “That doesn’t mean I approve of your stalker tactics though.”
“I understand.” I lean against the marble counter, maintaining enough distance to keep her comfortable. “My methods were...unorthodox.”
“Unorthodox?” She releases a sharp laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. You bought an entire apartment building just to spy on me.”
“Just the apartment, not a whole building, and it was to protect you,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” She raises an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you were playing God with my life. Making decisions about who I could see, where I could work...” She shakes her head. “Did you ever consider just talking to me?”
The question hits harder than I expect. “Many times.” I drum my fingers against the counter. “The night of the Christmas party at ‘Silver Fox’ last year. When you were promoted to executive assistant despite their every effort to block it in February. The day you wore that red dress to the quarterly review meeting in June.”
Her cheeks flush. “You remember what I wore?”
“I remember everything about you.” The words come out rougher than intended. “Every smile. Every tear. Every time someone hurt you.”
She crosses her arms. “Like when my coworkers were mean to me? So you destroyed their careers?”
“They deserved worse.” My voice hardens. “No one hurts what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours.” Her chin lifts defiantly. “You don’t own me, Ivan.”
“No?” I push off the counter, closing the distance between us. She stands her ground, though her pulse jumps visibly at her throat. “Then why are you here? In my penthouse? Under my protection?”
“Because Stephen?—”
“Because you need me.” I stop inches from her. “Because deep down, you know I’m the only one who can keep you safe.”
Her nostrils flare. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, malyshka .” I reach out, trailing my finger along her jaw. She shivers but doesn’t pull away. “If it was, we would have met differently. I would have courted you properly. Taken you to dinner. Dancing.”
“Instead, you stalked me for a year.” She steps back, breaking contact. “Watched my every move. Controlled my life from the shadows.”
“To protect you.”
“You keep saying that.” She wraps her arms around herself. “About Stephen...” She swallows hard. “He contacted me again.”
Heat surges through my veins. “When?”
“Recently. I didn’t want to tell you because...” She meets my gaze. “I was afraid you’d kill him.”
“Don’t you want me to?”
“No!” She steps forward, placing her hand on my arm. “Not because I care about him, but because I don’t want you in trouble.”
I’m touched by that and left speechless for a second.
Jenny pulls out her phone with trembling fingers, navigating to her messages. She grimaces when she opens an image and hands the device to me.
I’m disgusted and enraged. The digitally altered photo shows Jenny bent over a foot-board, being fucked by Stephen while she’s clearly in pain. There’s a knife in his hand that he’s plunging into her chest. A message accompanies the grotesque image: “This is how I want to fuck you—making you bleed while I take what’s mine.”
Red clouds my vision. Every muscle in my body tenses with the primal urge to hunt down Stephen and tear him apart with my bare hands. Only Jenny’s presence keeps me from ordering an immediate hit. “When did he send this?” I ask, dangerously quiet.
“Two days ago.” Jenny wraps her arms around herself. “I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid you’d...” She trails off, looking up at me with those deep brown eyes.
“Kill him?” My lips curve into a cold smile. “ Da .”
“Ivan.” She steps closer, placing her hand on my arm. The gentle touch grounds me, pulling me back from the edge of murderous rage. “I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”
“You’re worth any trouble.” I cover her hand with mine. “Let me handle this, malyshka . Trust me.”
She studies my face for a long moment. “You’ll make sure he can never hurt me again?”
“I swear it.” The promise burns in my throat like vodka.
“Just...” She bites her lower lip. “Don’t get caught.”
A surprised laugh escapes me. This woman continues to amaze me. Instead of recoiling from my darkness, she accepts it—embraces it at times, even. “Is that concern I hear?”
“Maybe.” She rises on her tiptoes, pressing her soft lips against mine in a brief kiss that sets my blood on fire. “Be careful.”
I take her into my arms and just take her a few minutes later, once again reveling in her hot pussy wrapped around my bare cock, showing her just how uncareful I can be around her. It’s the only thing that keeps me from ordering every person under my command to stop what they’re doing, find Stephen, and bring him to me so I can give him a taste of the terror he’s inflicted on my Jenny.
When I get hold of him, it will be the last taste of anything he ever experiences.