Chapter 16 Andrej
ANDREJ
Fuck!
I should’ve warned Cartier that Ivana was here, but I didn’t want to spoil the guided tour of my family home. I was too caught up in Cartier’s wide-eyed wonder. Too intent on seeing our Russian heritage through her eyes.
And, if I’m being honest, I felt like a little kid again, exploring the house and the theater and the snowy landscape and, just for a short time, forgetting everything else outside this snow globe scene that we’re acting out.
Cartier took her enforced vacation better than I’d hoped.
I didn’t want to rock the precarious boat that we’re traveling on by reminding her that there’s a whole nasty fucking world out there, one where the Bratva sometimes destroys families, and long-lost uncles show up out of the blue with a fuse that’s already burning.
“Leonid insisted that she travel with us.”
Cartier stops dead and stares at me, eyes narrowed.
Snowflakes collect on her hat, her shoulders, her lashes, and it takes all my willpower to resist pulling her into my arms and crushing her mouth with my lips.
Her innocence is a huge part of her beauty.
If she had even half an idea of how fucking sexy she is, she might’ve ended up being one of those women who use it to their advantage.
I pray right there to a God I’ve never believed in that, no matter what happens, Cartier Black never loses this beguiling innocent charm. Because if she did, I would have to carry that blame around for the rest of my life.
“Leonid knew that you were bringing me here?”
“He’s my brother, Cartier. When Yuri Asimov approached you, he involved my family too.”
“Did he know about—?” She carries out an internal debate and decides against completing the question. “Is she here to protect us?”
I reach for her hand, and she tracks my fingers with her eyes as if afraid of making any sudden movements. She doesn’t pull away, but I feel like I’m tiptoeing across thin ice.
“She adds another layer of protection. Ivana is good at what she does.”
“Which is?” There’s a brittle edge to her voice that I want to smooth away with my tongue.
“She’s an enforcer. She and her twin sister, Tamara—”
“There are two of them?” Cartier glances towards the back of the house, and I follow her gaze.
Ivana is no longer there.
“My brother…” I hesitate.
This isn’t my story to tell, and I don’t want Cartier to think that I condone Ivana rocking up at my apartment one morning to impart her friendly warning about my playboy-past.
“Leonid taught them everything they know. He trusts them with his life, and I do the same.”
“Well, maybe he’d feel differently if Ivana had warned Gianna to stay away from him.”
I think back to a conversation in my brother’s home when Gianna first came back to Chicago and was in his custody.
Drugging the women we’re attracted to seems to run in the family.
Leonid had Gianna abducted from her Montenegro to Chicago flight.
She was leverage. A mafia printzessa to be used in the war against the Sicilians.
His intentions were less than honorable: steal her innocence and destroy her arranged marriage to the Irish mafia boss, creating an opening for him to sneak in and overthrow the Amory family.
Only he hadn’t made allowances for having his own heart captured by the printzessa.
It was obvious from the start that he had feelings for Gianna. And I wasn’t the only person who wanted to tear it down before it became the chink in Leonid Ivanov’s armor.
Tamara had her own reasons for wanting to come between my brother and the printzessa, and she used Elena to achieve her goal.
She told Gianna that Leonid had cheated on his fiancée.
I can still recall the hurt in Gianna’s eyes.
I can still hear my own voice rubbing salt in the wound, telling her how beautiful Elena was, how besotted with my brother, how broken she was when she called off the engagement.
All lies. Elena was the one who cheated on Leonid.
Not my finest moment. Not something that I’m proud of either.
But love won in the end, no thanks to me or Tamara.
“Come with me.” I squeeze Cartier’s hand and pull her towards the house.
“Where are we going?”
“To resolve this situation.”
I might not like what Ivana has to say, but for the first time ever, I’m putting someone else’s feelings above my own.
I don’t want Cartier to feel intimidated by Ivana.
I don’t want her to feel unsettled in my family home.
And I’m no fucking coward. I’ll own my past mistakes, and then I’ll dust them off and prove to Cartier that she has nothing to fear from me.
Even if it’s the last thing I do.
“Andrej, I don’t want to cause trouble.” She drags a pace behind me, tiny frown lines appearing between her brows.
I stop and fold her into my arms. “None of this is your fault, baby.” I catch a snowflake as it settles on her rosy cheek. “You’re the most important thing in my life right now, and if Ivana doesn’t like it, then she can go back to Chicago.”
She peers up at me, and with the snow settling all around us, it flashes into my head that we could stay here.
Together. Build a cocoon around ourselves, forget about the rest of the world.
Dismiss family feuds and Bratva politics and assholes who think it’s their God-given right to invade a woman’s personal space.
Just the two of us.
My pulse is racing. I can feel the blood pumping around my veins and setting my cheeks on fire. I’ve never questioned my life before. When you’re born into the Bratva, you accept your role, and you live by the motto ‘family first’.
But here I am contemplating a life with Cartier that is so far removed from reality that it reads like one of those pastel-covered novels that I know she enjoys reading.
“Andrej?”
I’m jolted back to the present by Cartier’s voice. What did I miss?
“Would you do that for me?” she repeats. “Send Ivana away?”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” My voice is thick with emotion. “I would do anything for you.”
“Anything?”
And because I’m still trying to figure out the emotions swirling around inside my chest, I do what I’ve been wanting to do since I got here. I kiss her. Any moment spent not touching Cartier is a moment wasted, and I’m making up for lost time.
I crush her chilled lips with mine. I fill her mouth with my tongue. I hold her tightly, sharing my warmth with her. And when she whimpers against me, I resist the urge to fuck her in the snow, shielded from prying eyes by our thick fur coats.
“Anything.” I’m loathe to let her go.
When we step back inside the house, we stop being two people in a snowy wilderness and become Cartier and Andrej again. The Bratva underboss and the daughter of a rival family. The captor and the captive.
I wish I could erase the past like words on a whiteboard.
Start over.
Do this the right way, the way she deserves.
What’s the point of money and power if I can’t make things right for the only person who ever made me feel truly alive?
“Let’s do this then.” She breathes against my lips, her breath shrouding us in a fine white mist. “Because I have a date with a book in the library.”
We find Ivana in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of steaming black coffee in her hands.
She doesn’t react to our presence. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen any displays of emotion or affection from her.
The black clothes and green flicks on her eyelids are more than her look; they’re an integral part of her persona.
“Why did you warn Cartier to stay away from me?”
I still don’t know exactly what was said, but I can make an educated guess.
Her expression doesn’t alter. Her gaze flits between the two of us and finally settles on me. “You were distracted. The Pakhan needs you to be focused.”
“It was for my benefit then?”
Cartier leans against me, protective suddenly.
“Don’t take it personally.” Ivana shoots a steely glance in Cartier’s direction. “I stand by what I said though.”
“That I don’t know anything about him?” Cartier juts her chin defiantly. “Or that he’ll hurt me?”
“Both.” Ivana shrugs.
“Well, thank you for your concern.” Cartier’s voice is strong and clear. “But I’m a big girl. I can make my own mistakes. And learn from them.”
Ivana sips her coffee and lowers her eyes. It’s probably about as close as she’ll ever come to backing down. “Maybe you don’t need me here then. I’ll go.”
She sets her mug down on the counter, but before she can unwrap her fingers from around the steaming heat, Cartier says, “No. You should stay.”
Their eyes meet. Something passes between them—mutual respect, or perhaps simply understanding—and Ivana nods once.
“Fine. I’ll stay.”
She doesn’t look at me before she leaves the room.
Cartier fills two mugs with coffee and adds cream and sugar. When she turns around to face me, the concern on her face has been smoothed out. She smiles. Problem resolved.
“If you want me, you’ll find me in the library. It’s what snow-days are for.”
I accept the coffee that she slides my way across the counter. “I can think of other ways to keep warm.”
Her cheeks flush even brighter. “Like what?”
I move closer, the bulge in my pants already growing uncomfortable.
It’s too soon, I tell myself. She needs time to forgive me for bringing her here against her will.
But when she looks at me that way, with her eyes slanted like she knows exactly how to turn me on, it’s hard to ignore my pumped-up balls.
God-fucking-dammit!
I clench my fists, my jaw, every muscle in my body to stop myself from spinning her around, leaning her over the counter, and fucking her from behind.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
She licks her lips suggestively and squeals when I take her hand and lead her out of the kitchen and to a staircase that leads underground.
“Are you going to show me your dungeon?”