Chapter Forty-Five
Mindy
I can’t believe what just happened.
I also can’t believe how easily he made me submit to his will, making me fulfill his every demand. And me? I loved every second of it.
Tiny orgasmic aftershocks are ripping through my body and I feel fatigue between my thighs. More than I’ve ever felt. My sex feels battered and my insides are sore. My mind is sluggish, and my thoughts are scrambled, as if I’m emerging from a sleep that lasted days. Maron’s rough touch has forever burned into my skin.
I slowly blink my eyes open.
The memories of last night come flooding back as I realize we fell asleep on the couch, in the dressing room of New York High. I glance over at Maron, still sleeping and naked. My eyes roam over his body, appreciating its rough beauty.
He shudders and murmurs something in his dream, so I cover him with a blanket. A wave of emotions washes over me, but it’s all a jumble. His unexpected entrance last night, the aftermath of our wild sex, and the happiness I feel having him here...
My logical mind tells me it’s wrong, yet somehow, it feels right. Like the most natural thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Rising from the couch, I make my way to the small kitchen area and reach for the jar of instant coffee out of habit. My hand stops as I remember something.
Hold it, girl.
This didn’t end well last time.
The smell of coffee made me sick and it’s a risk I can't take right now. The last thing I want is to throw up in the toilet again and make Maron suspicious of my pregnancy. So, I opt for tea, brewing two cups before heading back to the dressing room.
I find Maron awake as I walk in, his eyes lighting up as they scan my body. "A beautiful naked woman bringing me a drink. No better way to start the day." He smirks, his voice deep and husky. I smile and sit beside him, placing the cups on the small table by the couch. He looks at the cup and raises an eyebrow. "No coffee?"
"Um… it’s what I found in the kitchen," I lie, though I don’t feel good about myself doing it. "It’s a dressing room, not in a five-star hotel."
"I noticed," he agrees, smirking.
He pushes himself up and we sit together, sipping our drinks. It is a rare moment of peace and tranquility. I glance over at him and allow my gaze to roam over his body with hunger. Scars, tattoos, sculpted abs, trimmed pubic hair, and a rugged stubble framing his chiseled features. The man looks like a masterpiece of art crafted by the gods.
I wish I could freeze time and continue savoring these precious seconds where the world outside doesn't exist - no family issues, no dangerous business dealings, just Maron and me, in our own little bubble.But nothing lasts forever. I learned that the hard way.
"Why did you show up, after..." I trail off, shattering the quiet with my question.
His gaze leaves his tea and fixates on me. "After your cryptic message?"
I nod, bracing myself for his answer.
"I couldn't stand being away from you any longer," he says simply and his hand trails over my bare skin. "Besides, I needed to teach you a lesson in obedience." A wicked glint fills his eyes before he pulls me closer, igniting a warm feeling inside me. "I had more than one reason to find you."
I raise an eyebrow, playing coy. "Oh yeah? What else?"
"You’re mine, lisichka . We signed a contract, remember?"
"A contract that conveniently leaves out some important information," I retort, my tone sharp.
"Like what?" he challenges, his eyes daring me to speak.
I hesitate for a moment. "Like… your true identity," I whisper before I can change my mind about addressing the matter. What I saw in his house that night is going to haunt me till the end of my days.
He meets my gaze, his expression unreadable. “Come again?”
I clear my throat and fold my arms across my bare breasts. “The night before I sent you the message. I saw something, Maron. I saw you and Pavel torture, then kill a man.”
As soon as I finish my sentence, doubt creeps in. The surprise on his face is brief but unmistakable. His jaw clenches, yet his expression remains unreadable as he stares at me. Seconds pass in silence, and I can feel my heart rate begin to quicken.
What the hell, Mindy?
Why did you tell him this?
You should have kept your mouth shut, girl!
There will be consequences to this!
I gulp, trying to swallow the growing lump in my throat. Is he angry? Is he about to lash out and hurt me?
After a long silence that seems to stretch on for an eternity, Maron puffs his cheeks and pushes himself up into a fully seated position. “Fine,” he says. “Let’s lay all our cards on the table. Ask me anything, lisichka ."
I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My heart rate gradually returns to normal and I realize I’ve been clenching my fists. I know I’m treading a dangerous ground “interrogating” a mob boss like Maron Korolev, but my need for answers outweighs my fear right now.
“Honest answers only. Deal?" I ask.
A sly grin spreads across his lips. "Deal. Go ahead."
My eyes lock onto his and my heart pounds with a mix of fear and apprehension. “Who was that man in the room?” I get straight to the point. “And why did he have to die?”
Maron's response is slow and calculated, but his demeanor betrays nothing. “That was Oleg Robarov. The captain of one of my cargo ships.” He pauses, his gaze hardening. "He hit an iceberg and sank the ship, along with several of his crew and millions of dollars’ worth of cargo. He was transporting Tramoxine samples and a valuable kidney.”
A sense of foreboding washes over me. "A kidney." I repeat. I suddenly remember Betty's silly gossip about Maron. How he procured a kidney for one of his staff at Global Media. It doesn’t seem so silly anymore. "Why was a kidney on board?"
He furrows his brow, taking a sip from his cup. "Tea’s gone cold," he says.
"Don’t change the subject, Maron," I insist.
He rubs his eyes, heaving a long sigh. “Do you really want to hear this story? It's long, complicated and boring."
"I’ll try not to fall asleep," I say, giving him a side-eye.
“Fine.” Maron's smirks and shifts his body into a more comfortable position. "It all started back in the nineties. Leonid Shirkov and my father were business partners until they weren’t. One day, an important shipment went missing. Shirkov blamed my father, and my father denied it. Nobody knows what happened exactly, but the whole thing turned into bloodshed and several people died on both sides.”
“Oh my, God,” I blurt and my eyes fly wide in shock. This is the kind of stuff you see in mafia movies, with Robert De Niro and Al Pacino. Except this is real life.
“The two men never sorted out their differences,” Maron continues. “And so, when my father died, I was left to pick up the pieces of his legacy."
I shake my head in disbelief. So, there was definitely truth in Betty’s gossips after all. All the secrecy, the aura of danger that surrounds Maron, it’s all starting to make sense now. Hell, he even told me that he’s the head of the Bratva, but I guess I didn’t fully realize what that means until now.
"You still with me, lisichka ?" Maron chuckles with a hint of amusement in his voice as he observes my shock.
Urging him to continue I nod, but a tiny voice in me is telling me that I might regret this later. Except there’s no going back now.
“One day,” Maron says, “old Shirkov appeared in my office, telling me that his daughter, Jennifer, needed a kidney transplant. He made me an offer. I get his daughter a healthy kidney, he buries the hatchet with my family. I agreed. Except things didn’t go according to plan. Oleg sank the ship along with the kidney, and Shirkov got pissed."
I’m speechless. This is all so foreign to my own world that I don’t even know what to say. "Did anyone die on that ship?" is all I manage, but it sounds ridiculous after everything I just heard.
"Over a dozen," Maron grunts. "And that’s on Oleg. That’s why he had to die. He was too busy getting drunk and banging a chick that worked on board instead of doing his goddamn job."
"I… I don’t know what to say," I mutter, horrified.
“It’s the truth, Mindy.” He looks at me with concern, then falls silent, allowing me time to absorb what he’s just shared. A heavy silence stretches between us, like a dark chasm - deep and desolate.
“So,” I begin, my voice shattering the silence. “Did you find a new kidney?"
"Yes. Maurice took care of it. The new kidney was delivered and Shirkov is happy."
I let out a sigh. "Oh. So, the danger’s over?”
"Yes. Besides, I have bigger plans," Maron says, keeping his tone flat. "Remember Tramoxine? The medicine I told you about?"
“I do. You needed my help with the launch. Until I bailed on you.”
"That’s right.” He smirks. “Tramoxine is a miracle pill developed by my own team of scientists. It can cure any mental ailment. Addiction, PTSD, trauma, you name it. Imagine the impact it will have on the world." His eyes gleam as he leans back.
“Are you serious?” I shriek, shocked by the potential impact of his creation. "Does this thing really work on any mental health issue?"
"Do I ever bullshit you, lisichka ?” He looks at me questioningly. “We're launching in a few weeks. But that's all I’m going to say for now." He pauses, his gaze turning intense. "Now it's your turn to spill. What happened on stage that made you cry?"
Shit.
Looks like he’s not letting that slide and I have no idea where to start. I don’t even know what to tell him and what to leave out. I still haven’t had time to process the things that happened to me since I last saw him. So, I take a deep breath and decide to start with the one that requires the least explanation. "I lost my mom, Maron."
His expression quickly softens and a flicker of empathy appears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mindy. I had no idea." Then he asks something that seems out of the ordinary. "What does it feel like? To lose your mother?"
I pause for a moment before answering. "Like a part of you is ripped away, leaving a void you can never fill."
“Right,” Maron sighs, his shoulders sagging under the weight of my words. "My own mother… She’s still alive, but I feel I've lost her to dementia long ago. I can’t imagine what it will feel like when she goes."
I don’t say anything. I don’t think I need to. Maron's dark, dangerous eyes bore into mine with an intensity that drills down to my core. I reach out and hold his hand, simply sitting with him in silence under the weight of our grief.
"Million-dollar question," he growls, his voice turning low and menacing.
"Go ahead," I tell him. My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
"What's going on between you and Maurice?" The underlying emotion in his tone is unmistakable, though I can tell he’s trying to suppress it. It cuts through the air like a blade.
I meet his gaze unflinchingly. "We've been through this, Maron. Nothing is going on between Maurice and me."
His jaw clenches and the muscles in his neck strain. "That's not what he says. He claims you're back together, that you're still in love with him. Says he's going to make you his wife."
What the hell?
"What?" I snap, echoing my disbelief. "Maurice told you that? If he did, he’s living in a fantasy world."
Maron's eyes narrow dangerously. "Are you saying that he’s lying to me?"
Anger bubbles up inside me, hot and fierce. I can’t believe that this is something we have to talk about. All I’ve been doing these last few weeks is trying to survive, not hooking up with Maurice of all people. "Listen, Maron, I don’t know what he told you, but there is nothing between us. Yes, I ran into him at a coffee shop downtown. He sat down at my table and tried to rekindle things, but I shut him down."
Maron leans closer, his breath hot on my face. "Why?"
Is he being serious right now?
For a fleeting moment, I want to lash out at the absurdity of this. But I can tell this is important to him, so I steady myself. The warmth radiating from his body blends with the faint scent of whiskey and cologne, filling my senses as he waits for my response.
Because I’ve moved on, Maron" I reply. "It's time Maurice did too."
And because I'm pregnant with your baby.
The words linger on the tip of my tongue, but I can't bring myself to say them. Our connection is still fragile, and I can't risk shattering it with such heavy news.
“I believe you,” he says, after scrutinizing me for what feels like an eternity. He then moves in, and I close my eyes, surrendering to his lips as they meet mine. His kiss sets my body ablaze in an instant. In his touch, all doubts and fears dissipate, replaced by pure, raw, magnetic lust. We barely finished last night’s sex marathon, yet I feel ready for round two.
As for my pregnancy, I know I can't keep it a secret forever. But there is a time for everything. Right now, at this moment, it's just Maron, me, and the unfiltered, primal desire we have for each other.
Our lips lock, our tongues dance together, and I allow my body to melt into his warm embrace. His hands glide over my skin, tracing delicate patterns on my stomach and hips as he takes control of the kiss. Desire and excitement mix with a hint of nervousness deep within me as I feel his hard erection against my thigh. I don’t know if my body can handle him so soon after the rough pounding he gave me yesterday. But his intoxicating scent, the feeling of his lips against my own, and his hands roaming my body are all telling me that I can.
“You taste amazing, lisichka ,” He murmurs breaking our kiss and breathing heavily against my neck. He then nibbles his way up to my earlobe, causing me to gasp from the sensation.
The couch squeaks softly underneath us as he shifts, one of his hands caressing my bare stomach. It's an intimate gesture that sends a cocktail of emotions through me - fear mingled with hope and anticipation - because I know that our secret baby is in there, growing underneath the surface.
"Mmm," he murmurs into my ear, nipping gently at my lobe before trailing kisses down towards my collarbone. "Your skin is soft like butter." His fingers curl around mine where they're interlocked above our heads.
That is when a thud on the door shatters our bliss.
Loud and violent, the sudden noise is in stark contrast with the sensual moment we were sharing. In an instant, the mood is gone. I flinch, startled, while Maron grunts and looks up. Everything unfolds in mere seconds.
Kevin's voice booms from the hallway, filled with urgency. "Miss, stop! Stop right now or I'll have to call the police!"
"Shut up, you jerk!" Another voice chimes in and I recognize Alexis.
Shit!
We don’t get the luxury of preparing for what’s to come. I don’t even get a chance to explain to Maron that the woman yelling outside is my drug-addicted sister. The next moment, the door flies open, and Alexis storms in. Her eyes are wild and bloodshot; it’s clear she’s high out of her mind. Her mouth drops open as she takes in the sight before her. Maron and I still naked, entwined in each other like passionate lovers caught in a moment of intimacy.
A second later, Kevin also appears at the door. "I’m so sorry, Mr. Korolev," he pants, fear plastered across his face as he looks at Maron. "I tried to stop this crazy woman but-"
"Shut the fuck up," Alexis interrupts him, her voice laced with venom as she stares at us. The next moment she pulls out her phone and starts snapping photos of us like a madwoman.
"What the hell are you doing?!" I yell at her.
"You deserve this, you slut! Mom's dead because of you," my sister screams, her phone clicking away. "I had to call Dr. Walker to find out!" She puts her phone away and lunges at me, pure fury emanating from her pores. But she doesn’t get to lay a finger on me because Maron steps in and restrains her.
Maron is only wearing his pants. His robust, muscular form, streaked with scars and tattoos, is as intimidating as a man can get. But somehow, Alexis doesn’t seem fazed - she’s probably too high to fully grasp who she’s picking a fight with. Her eyes narrow to slits as she sizes up Maron.
"And who the fuck are you supposed to be?" Her voice is sharp and dripping with disdain, but her face lights up with recognition as understanding dawns. "Wait, you’re Maron Korolev?" She looks back and forth between Maron and I, a wild glint in her eye. "Leave me alone, jerk," she snaps, yanking her wrist from Maron's grasp. A devious smile spreads across her face. "StarDust will pay top dollar for these photos. I mean, the CEO of Global Media getting kinky in a seedy club with a hooker? That's front-page material."
With that, she storms out of the room, not even caring to shut the door behind her. Kevin rushes after her, his urgent footsteps echoing through the hallway as he tries to catch up and prevent her from making matters even worse.
Maron's furrows his brow as his eyes bore into mine. His expression is a mix of disbelief and seething anger. "What the fuck was this about?" he demands, his voice low. I can see the gears turning in his head. His eyes dart to the door where Alexis disappeared, then back to me.
I take a deep breath, feeling my heart race in my chest as I try to control my conflicted feelings. "That was my sister being high," I confess, my voice trembling slightly with shame and regret. "She's trouble, Maron. She's addicted to painkillers, and she'll do anything to get her next fix."
Maron's expression turns to confusion. "That was your sister? How did she find us?"
"She works in the area and she probably spotted my car." It's true, but there's more to it. The real deal is that Alexis knows people in this fancy neighborhood, thanks to her career as a gossip journalist. For the same reason, she also knows how to get people to tell her what she wants to know. Once she got into the building, I’m sure it didn't take her long to get someone to rat out my whereabouts.
Maron's jaw clenches so tightly that the muscles in his face ripple. His teeth are grinding audibly as a storm of fury brews in his eyes. "She said something about StarDust," he grits out. "What did she mean?" His gaze pierces into mine, fierce and unyielding.
“Alexis works for StarDust as a journalist.” I gulp.
His eyes widen before snapping back to me with an intensity that scares me. " Chertovski dno! Do you know what that means? If those pictures get out, it's not just my reputation on the line. It's the whole fucking company!”
“I’m so sorry, Maron, I-” I try to apologize but he cuts me off.
"Give me her number," he demands.
I hesitate for a moment. I don’t want him to hurt Alexis, no matter how cruel and evil she’s become. She’s still my sister.
“Maron, please don’t-”
“I’m not going to hurt her, Mindy, but I need those photos gone. Now, give me her number.”
I heave a sigh and pull out my phone, sending Alexis’ contact to Maron. As I do that, Maron is already pulling out his own phone, dialing another number with practiced ease.
"Pavel," he barks into the device. His voice is cold and authoritative like a dictator commanding his troops. "I'm sending you a number. The woman who owns it took some pictures that I don't appreciate. I need those photos gone. For good."
"Got it. Do you want the person gone too, boss?" I hear Pavel's voice crackle through the line and cold fear grips my throat.
"No," Maron says, giving me a side-eye. "She's Mindy's sister. Just take care of the photos for now."