Epilogue - Rurik
One month later
Our second honeymoon had just begun, even though we hadn’t had our proper walk down the aisle yet. Mila and Nat were invested in making this the best and biggest wedding anyone in our family had ever had, and since Clem seemed to be having fun with it, I let them go wild.
I mean, we were already married, so there was no hurry.
We had barely landed in Tokyo and were on our way to the same villa we’d stayed in before, when Clem snickered at the messages she was catching up with after the long flight.
“Didn’t we agree about no phones?” I asked mildly.
She grinned at me. “It’s from Mila. Apparently, there’s a world record for the biggest cake that she wants to break.”
Showing me the picture of an outrageous and idiotic cake that soared to the ceiling behind a smiling couple, I shook my head. “Great publicity,” I said. “Just what our family needs.”
“She’s only teasing, but what do you think of this one?”
I didn’t look at the next picture Mila had sent her, but caught a glimpse of frothy white icing and pink roses as I took Clem’s phone from her hand. “Is this how you want to spend our first hours back in Tokyo?”
With a smile, she let me tuck her phone back in her bag and leaned against my chest, pointing out the sights through the window.
I had told the driver to take a scenic route, but now I wanted to get to the villa as soon as possible.
We should have been tired, but being back in the place that was so special to both of us had given us a burst of energy I meant to put to good use.
As soon as we were in the privacy of the walled courtyard, I swept my wife into my arms. “Welcome back, beautiful.”
The moment our lips touched, my phone buzzed angrily from my pocket. I felt Clem smile against my mouth. “Go ahead and check it. I want to get out of these grubby clothes,” she told me, grabbing her carry-on bag and skipping up the steps toward the sliding front door.
“Don’t put any new ones on,” I called, reluctantly pulling out my phone, but smiling at the sound of Clem’s relaxed laughter.
Things had settled down somewhat in LA, but we were considering it a calm before the storm situation instead of resting on our laurels.
There hadn’t been any late-night raids I needed to rush out to in almost two weeks, but that didn’t mean anything in the Bratva.
In fact, it usually puts us on higher alert.
I wasn’t surprised to see that it was Sofiya calling me.
I had spoken to Uncle Konstantin’s daughter only a few days ago to assure her I’d check in on her dad once we arrived.
I also told her she shouldn’t worry so much.
She knew Kon better than I did. The man got into some unbelievable scrapes, but he was made of steel with a scratch-proof coating.
“We barely landed,” I said, trying not to sound too annoyed. I liked Sofiya. Having grown up with a wild dad, her way of rebelling was being a rules follower. I could relate to my two crazy older brothers. “I haven’t seen him yet, but there’s nothing to—”
“I’m here,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“In Tokyo?” I yelped. Then I heard a tap at the outer door.
Not that I didn’t adore my cousin, but I didn’t want to see anyone but Clem for the next couple of days.
Still, I hurried to open the gate, and the little ball of fire zipped past me, red hair flying.
Red today, anyway. It had been blonde the last time I saw her, black with a blue streak before that.
Despite only being twenty-one, she had enough responsibilities in Moscow that it was shocking to see her there.
“Are things that bad?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, barely responding to my welcoming hug before pacing. “He refuses to listen to reason, and won’t tell me how deep the shit he’s in is.”
Clem must have heard the new voice, and instead of coming out in one of the slinky negligees I’d seen her packing, she was still wearing her airport clothes. “Everything all right?” she asked, giving me a look.
I sighed. “Probably. Hopefully.” I introduced her to Sofiya, who lost her anxious pallor in her genuine delight to finally meet the woman I’d been raving about to my entire family back in Russia.
A couple of weeks ago, I would have found an excuse to get Sofiya away so Clem didn’t have to hear any gruesome details about life in the Bratva, but she’d shown me she could handle it.
Secrets were worse than knowing, so I put on a pot of water for tea and told Sofiya to spit it out and be quick about it.
“This is our honeymoon, after all.”
“Rurik,” Clem admonished, blushing. “If it were up to you, we’d always be on a honeymoon.”
“Damn straight.”
It turned out that Sofiya didn’t want to wait around for me to get to Tokyo, and in the three days since she’d landed, she learned that her father was indeed in some deep shit.
“So not just a married woman with a jealous husband?” Clem said, raising her brow at me.
I remembered the hurriedly thrown-together cover story, which was already bad enough, but not quite on the level of ending up on a Yakuza hit list. And it now seemed like Konstantin had managed to get himself on one.
“Oh, I’m sure there’s one or two of those in the mix too,” Sofiya said, flushing angrily. She adored her father, or she wouldn’t be here, but he tended to raise her blood pressure, too.
“What do Mikhail and Lukyan think? Or the twins?” I asked, holding up my hands when she glared at me for seeming to go over her head, and enquired about her older brothers. “Just asking, Sof, calm down. I’m not minimizing your feelings or anything.”
“The twins are off somewhere partying, following in their father’s footsteps. Mik’s up to his neck with the brewery,” she said. “Among other things. And Luk’s in Milan, arranging some deal he can’t talk about, but is apparently more important than Papa’s life.”
“Kon’s perfectly fine,” I said. Both of the women hissed at me.
“You don’t know that,” Clem said. “Even I’ve heard of the Yakuza.”
To prove my point that Sofiya’s dad was alive and well, I called and put him on speaker phone. His robust voice filled the room, with the sound of lively bar noises behind him. I told him I wanted to meet him the next day, and he readily agreed.
“See?” I said. “Still alive.”
“And in danger as long as he’s in Tokyo,” Sofiya snapped. “He won’t return to Moscow, not while he thinks he’s going to get a foothold here. I even told him we could talk about his stupid plans to arrange a marriage for me.”
“What?” I was truly shocked.
Sofiya snickered. “Talk about it. I’d never do it. But not even that would get him to go home.”
“Why not convince him to come to LA?” Clem asked.
We both looked at her like she was a genius. “We were discussing something along those lines the last time I was here,” I said.
“Yes, he might like that idea,” Sofiya agreed. “I’ve been wanting to catch up with everyone there, too.”
Now that she was blithely planning on visiting LA, I decided it was time to get rid of her. As soon as she took the last sip of her tea, I hustled her out the door with the sworn promise I’d get her dad on a plane to California and out of the Yakuza’s sights.
“You do know he’ll instantly make himself a new enemy the minute he’s in the US, right?” I teased.
Clem thumped me on the back and hugged Sofiya like they were already best friends, and then I finally had my wife all to myself.
“That was an amazing idea to lure Kon to LA,” I said. “And it got rid of Sofiya.”
Her eyes flew wide. “I wasn’t trying to lure Konstantin or get rid of Sofiya. I only want what’s best for your family.”
“Our family,” I corrected, turning her scowl to a smile. I pulled her into my arms. “God, I love you. Brilliant, sweet, and wearing way too many clothes.”
I tugged at her sweater, and she stepped back, giving me a wicked look as she slowly eased it over her head. Her scowl was back as soon as she tossed it aside.
“There’s nothing very romantic about smelling like the airport.”
My eyes honed in on her perfect tits, the smooth orbs swelling above the edges of her lacy bra.
She could have been rolling in manure, and I’d still want to jump on her.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lifted her feet off the floor and carried her toward the bedroom, bypassing the bed to deposit her on the bathroom tiles.
Reaching behind her, I turned on the shower and then began kissing my way down the side of her neck.
As steam enveloped us, I snapped off her bra and nuzzled her taut nipples as she ran her fingers through my hair.
Working my way down her body, I undid her jeans and tugged them down her thighs, pausing to grip the edges of her panties between my teeth.
In another moment, she was naked, beautiful, and wreathed in the hot steam flowing out from the shower. I gripped her hips with an impatient growl, but ignored my urgent instinct to plunge my face between her legs.
Ripping my own clothes off, I picked her up again, both of us laughing as I stepped under the waterfall.
With her hair plastered to her cheeks, she gripped the sides of my face, her eyes searching mine before she kissed me.
Our bodies slid against each other, and I ran my hands all over her silky skin.
My cock throbbed against her belly, and she gasped as I pressed her against the shower wall.
“Welcome back to Tokyo,” I said, smiling as water dripped off my hair onto her upturned face.
“It’s like coming home,” she sighed, raising on her toes for another kiss.
I nipped at her lower lip, my fingers finding their way down to cup her slippery ass cheeks and yank her closer to me. “We could live here. Just say the word.”
“And have you ended up on a hit list? How would that look to the Koboyashis?”