Chapter 15 - Sergey
After feeling every inch of Katya and finally sating that deep-seated desire to explore her completely, I know I’m ruined.
My whole world has shifted, almost like every part of me has been branded by her. Every part belongs to her.
I’ve had my share of women before. More than I care to count. But none of them ever mattered like this.
This with Kat…it’s something else entirely.
It isn’t about her body, regardless of how that part certainly doesn’t disappoint. It’s everything else, too. Her sharp tongue, the fire in her eyes, and the way she pushes me back without thinking twice when I try to control her. And yet, she pulls me back in just the same.
It’s been two days since that night, and despite how I try to stop myself from lingering in those memories for too long, I still catch myself thinking about it almost every hour.
She’s under my roof, moving around like something I’ll never be able to contain. Instead of trying to rein her in like I should, I find myself wanting to let her cause as much chaos and destruction as she possibly can.
I want to watch and see just how far she’ll go, even if that involves her torturing me in the meantime.
Roman would say I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have, but either way, weathering that storm feels worth it.
I spend the morning with Kat by my side while we go from store to store, fitting her in some dresses that do her so much justice, it should almost be illegal.
At first, she seems resistant to the idea of spending the entire day with me while a few guards trail us, but with time, I watch as that cold mask shifts slightly. How it melts into what looks like amusement.
And of course, it’s at my expense.
Kat manages to find every dress that hugs her curves, accentuating all of her gifts and nearly bringing me to my knees.
At one boutique, she calls me over to the change room and asks for my help with the zipper. But the dress hardly even covers her chest, not leaving anything to the imagination.
Seeing her with sequins gleaming against her skin shouldn’t get me going as much as it does, given how I had her completely bare under me not that long ago. But it still does.
When she’s satisfied with it and asks me to undo it again, I take my time, letting my eyes roam over her exposed back.
My fingers drift lower, brushing against her skin while I contemplate throwing the curtain across and taking her then and there. I go to take her waist in my hands, but she slaps my hand away and tells me to get out.
It irritates me at first, but I catch the subtle knowing look on her face as she shoos me away, putting the curtain between us before she gets undressed.
She knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and she’s doing it on purpose.
The rest of the day continues like this…with her icing me out, almost pretending like the other night didn’t happen, only for her to slowly reel me back in again.
She’s teasing me. She has to be.
By the time evening rolls around, she has several more dresses added to her arsenal, while my nerves are practically shot from enduring nothing but torture.
Tonight, we’re going to dinner. While I haven’t had much contact with my family, Elena texted to let me know she and the others were looking forward to meeting Kat. In a way, it feels like a subtle demand.
Roman hasn’t let the last few weeks slide. My ‘impulsiveness’, as he likes to call it, has pushed things too far for his liking, but I didn’t want to hear it, and I still don’t.
I know I’ll get an earful about how badly I screwed everything up, but for now, I’d rather focus on my wife and getting them to all see her how I do. To understand why I was quick to have her for myself.
As we get into the back of the SUV again and head out, I nearly forget how to breathe while I’m beside her.
The sleek, black dress hugs her curves in a way that has me contemplating whether getting to the restaurant is even worth it, or if I should keep her hidden away a while longer.
The scoop neckline has me wanting to touch her more than anything, and as much as I want to taint the back seat, I settle on touching her thigh.
Kat raises a brow at me while I gently stroke her skin with my thumb, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking and what she’s so easily achieving.
She has a certain power over me, and I won’t deny it.
“Are you trying to start a war in that dress?” I ask her, voice a touch lower than usual.
She huffs out a faintly amused breath, but something in her gaze tells me she’s torn between entertaining this and closing herself off again.
“If it bothers you, then I’m sure we can have the driver turn around so I can change.”
“Don’t you dare,” I murmur, grip tightening by a fraction.
Her lips pull faintly at that before she looks out the window, leaving the space feeling charged between us.
Despite still being cold after everything we felt together, she doesn’t push my hand off, yet she doesn’t lean into it either.
It seems like she’s testing me somehow, likely wondering just how far I’ll go to have her again.
Little does she know, I’ll go as far as I can take it.
The rest of the drive is quiet while that tension continues to simmer between us, along with something else. Something unspoken and fragile in a way that’s fucking terrifying.
All the while, I have to remind myself to behave. To otherwise keep my hands to myself at least until we get back home. Maybe then she’ll warm up to me again.
We arrive at the high-end restaurant, following the velvet carpet inside while I keep Kat close to my side, hand on her lower back, which makes her tense slightly.
I feel the weight of their gazes the moment we’re led into the sitting area, and it’s obvious they’ve been waiting for this moment. Waiting for the chance to either congratulate me or ream me out for going off course.
It isn’t every day that a Lukov gets married, and unfortunately for them, I did it without my family as my witnesses.
Instead, Katya has only been a name to them and a piece in this puzzle against the Balakins.
Of course, it isn’t ideal for us to have one of them at the table with us. Fortunately, she isn’t one of them anymore. Technically, she’s one of us.
Roman’s eyes reach Kat first while he assesses her, then he looks at me with cold control. I can already tell there’s so much he wants to say to me, but he keeps it minimal for now.
“Sergey,” he says almost plainly.
“Roman,” I murmur, doing my best to take the high road while I pull out Kat’s chair for her. I glance at the others, feeling vaguely smug for some reason. “Others.”
There’s a hint of tension around the table, almost like everyone is waiting for the bomb to go off. Ivan leans back in his seat with a smirk like he’s anticipating the train wreck, while Mikhail has a similar expression, and Nikolai sips his drink with his usual quiet observance.
Elena is the only one who gets up and hugs Kat, catching her off guard.
“You look stunning, Kat,” she says with a warm smile before introducing herself and the other wives, giving them the chance to speak up as well.
I catch as Kat thanks her and manages to slowly find her stride with the women, but I find myself focusing on my brothers and their reactions.
Roman looks like he’s navigating a storm inside himself while the others subtly take in my wife. Assessing her, surely.
Of course, they’d never say much about it, but I can only imagine what they’re thinking.
It’s both satisfying and enraging, and I do my best to keep myself in check while I join them at the table.
As we settle in, my hand returns to her thigh beneath the table, and while she allows it, I can still feel how rigid she is, almost like she’s bracing for an actual war.
I want to reassure her that everything will be fine, and that I’ll personally ensure it, but I let my gentle caress communicate it for me.
Roman doesn’t take long before he speaks up.
“So, this is what you’ve been hiding away, Sergey?”
I smile to myself as I reach for my wine glass. “Not hiding…just enjoying.”
“Enjoying,” he says with a low scoff. “You’ve always been indulgent. That’s bold for someone who couldn’t follow through.”
My gaze narrows at him, but before I can say anything, Elena’s voice cuts through with a gentle firmness.
“Roman…not tonight.”
He glances at our sister briefly, softening a touch and seemingly considering her request as he often does. Then he looks at me again.
“I only mean it’s bold considering that we haven’t seen or heard from you in days after you compromised your assignment, and the first thing you share with us is how you’ve been enjoying yourself while the rest of us are cleaning up your mess?”
Mikhail sighs, rubbing at his nose. Ivan grins while he sips his drink.
I try not to tense. “I did my part.”
“Is this a game to you?” Roman asks, raising his voice slightly. “You pluck the daughter of a dead pakhan, the one you were meant to be monitoring from afar, and you keep her locked in your house like a little prize—”
“A prize?” Kat asks, cutting in without hesitation.
Everyone stops and turns to look in her direction.
But she only stares directly at Roman, completely unshaken and not caring about the attention on her.
“Did I miss the part where I became something to be owned?”
Nikolai nearly chokes on his whiskey while Ivan pats his back through his coughing fit, and everyone else stays dangerously quiet.
I can feel Elena and the other girls cringing.
Roman doesn’t blink. “You’re under his roof, aren’t you?”
“Against my will, yes. But you’re the one leading everyone, right? You’re the Lukov pakhan?” Kat brings up, unwavering, while she holds her ground.
Roman’s gaze narrows slightly, and he nods once. “I am.”
“And it’s no thanks to you that I’m still here, regardless of your authority.”
I glance at Kat, not entirely believing what I’m hearing, but I should. I know her well enough by now.
There’s venom in her voice, but there’s no regret in her eyes.
I should stop this. I should step in and bring her back down before she completely sets Roman off.
An unhappy pakhan makes for a tumultuous night for everyone else, but still, I can’t bring myself to speak up.
Instead, I sit back and watch it unfold with a strange, almost perverse pride. Nobody speaks so bluntly to Roman. Even I tread carefully.
But Kat…she’s doing it without hesitation.
After staring her down for a long moment, Roman exhales through his nose. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that.”
“I don’t need your approval,” she says, leaving no room for anyone to doubt just how headstrong she is.
God damn.
I can feel myself burning up as a result of her boldness, hearing the steady thrum of my pulse in my ears.
She’s incredible…maybe more so than she knows.
After another moment of silence, I can’t help but laugh.
The others glance at me, as if wondering how they’re supposed to handle this shaky situation. Then, Ivan breaks and does the same. Nikolai and Mikhail follow suit, and even Elena puts a hand over her mouth to hide her amusement.
Finally, Roman relents and chuckles to himself while he shakes his head. “No…I suppose you don’t.”
It’s an odd moment of surprising amusement, but if even for a flicker, that tension simmers down to something less hostile and allows our norm to creep back in.
Dinner goes on, and while that bristle doesn’t fully go away, something more akin to acceptance fills in the space around it.
My brothers don’t ease up on Kat, but they don’t press too hard either.
Still, Kat holds her own through every conversation, keeping up with Ivan’s sarcasm and Mikhail’s occasional quip, managing to put him off kilter a few times. She manages to impress just about everyone with her knowledge of engines, and even Nikolai cracks a grin for her.
In every way, she’s absolutely brilliant. Sharp and defiant.
And I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.