Valerie
Time moves differently in the basement.
I've been trying to track it by counting heartbeats and measuring the intervals between breaths, but everything blurs together into an endless stretch of cold silence and endless waiting.
Waiting to find out if Lev lives or dies.
Waiting to find out if my information was good enough, if Patrick took the bait, if this nightmare finally ends.
The uncertainty is its own form of torture.
I think about Mila. Wonder what she's doing right now. Probably sleeping, curled up with that stuffed bear Lev got her, completely unaware that her world might be falling apart.
She's going to hate me when she finds out. Going to feel betrayed by the woman she trusted, the one who braided her hair and read her stories and promised to keep her safe.
I broke that promise the day I walked into this house.
I think about Lev too. Memorize every moment we had together because they might be all I get.
The way he looked at me that first day in his bathroom—cold calculation mixed with something darker.
His hands on my throat in his study, the power dynamic that should have terrified me but made me wet instead.
Watching him with Mila, so awkward and trying so hard to be the father she needed.
The night he told me about Katya and Dmitri, letting me see the pain underneath the armor.
Every time he called me "milaya" in that rough voice that made me feel claimed.
I'm crying again. Quietly. Just letting the tears fall because what else is there to do?
Minutes pass. Maybe hours. The silence stretches so long I start to lose track of time.
Then I hear footsteps.
Multiple sets, heavy boots on stairs. Men moving with urgency.
The door slams open.
Mikhail stands there, and one look at his face tells me everything I need to know.
Something went wrong.
"Up." His voice is hard. Furious. "Now."
I scramble to my feet. "What happened? Is Lev—"
"Alive. Upstairs. Move."
He doesn't touch me, just gestures sharply toward the stairs. I run up them on shaking legs, heart hammering so hard I taste blood.
The main floor is chaos. Men everywhere, some bleeding, all armed, voices raised in Russian I can't follow.
And in the center of it all is Lev.
Covered in blood. Face streaked with soot and gore. Exhausted and absolutely, devastatingly furious.
But alive.
Relief crashes over me so intense I nearly collapse.
He sees me. His expression doesn't change. Just watches me approach with those cold, dead eyes.
"It was a trap." Mikhail's voice cuts through. "Patrick wasn't there. He sent Rico Alvarez instead. His right-hand man."
My stomach drops. "What?"
"We killed Rico and twenty-three of his men. Burned the compound to the ground. Recovered weapons, cash, records." Mikhail's jaw clenches. "But Patrick wasn't fucking there. He knew. Somehow he knew this was a setup."
No. No no no—
"He sent his second-in-command to die while he disappeared." Lev's voice is flat. Empty. "Which means he didn't buy your performance on that call. Means he suspected you'd turned. Means he's out there right now, planning retaliation."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I thought he believed me…"
"So did I." Lev moves closer, and I see blood dripping from his knuckles, a gash on his forearm. "But apparently Patrick knows you better than I thought. Knows you are incapable of being truthful.”
The words are a knife.
"Maybe he heard it in your voice when you called me a monster. Maybe he knows you well enough to recognize a lie. Or maybe—" His eyes bore into mine. "—he's just smarter than both of us gave him credit for."
"W-What do we do?" My voice is barely above a whisper.
"We?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "There is no 'we,' Valerie. There's me cleaning up the mess you created. You're just—"
He stops. Jaw working like he's grinding teeth to powder.
Mikhail clears his throat. "Boss, what are your orders?"
Lev stares at me for a long moment. I see the calculations happening behind his eyes. The rage warring with something else I can't name.
"Triple security on the estate. No one in or out without my direct approval. Move Mila to the safe room until we neutralize the threat." He turns to Mikhail. "And get everyone out. I need the room."
Mikhail hesitates. "Boss—"
"Out."
The room clears. Men filing out quickly, efficiently, until it's just Lev and me in the blood-stained foyer.
The silence is suffocating.
"Patrick will retaliate." Lev's voice is controlled. Too controlled. "He'll come after me harder than before. Will probably target Mila to hurt me. Will burn my entire organization to the ground if he can."
"I'm sorry—"
"And it's your fault." The words are brutal. Clinical. "Your lies. Your betrayal. All these would have been avoided if only you had told me the truth from the start."
Tears stream down my face. "I…I’m… I'm so sorry—"
"Sorry doesn't fix this." He moves closer, and I see violence in every line of his body. "Sorry doesn't bring back the three men I lost tonight. Doesn't change the fact that Patrick is still out there. Doesn't undo the damage you've caused."
"Then kill me." The words tear out. "If that's what you want, if that's what you need, just do it. I'm tired of being everyone’s pawn. Tired of paying for sins I did not commit, and the ones I couldn’t help but commit."
His hand shoots out, wraps around my throat. Not squeezing, just holding. Just reminding me how easy it would be.
"Don't tempt me."
We stand there, his hand on my throat, both of us breathing hard.
Then something shifts in his expression. Something dark and hungry and completely unhinged.
"You want to know what I'm going to do?" His voice drops low. Dangerous. "I'm going to keep you. Because Patrick expects you to run, expects me to kill you or throw you out. But you're staying. We're finishing this together."
"What?"
"But make no mistake." His grip tightens slightly. "This isn't forgiveness. This isn't redemption. This is punishment. You created this mess, you're going to help me clean it up. And when it's over, when Patrick is dead and my organization is secure, then you leave."
"Lev—"
He pulls me against him roughly, crashes his mouth to mine.
The kiss is brutal. Claiming. Nothing gentle or forgiving about it. Just raw need and fury and the twisted chemistry that's always existed between us.
I kiss him back despite everything. Despite the pain and fear and guilt. Because this might be the last time. Because I need it like oxygen. Because I'm just as fucked up as he is.
When he breaks away, we're both gasping.
"Upstairs." His voice is rough. "My room. Now."
I go. Because I want this desperately, even though I know I shouldn't. Because some sick part of me needs him to hurt me, use me, punish me for everything I've done.
His bedroom door opens, and we stumble inside.
"Strip." He groans.
My hands shake as I pull off my clothes. The basement chill has left me with goosebumps, but Lev's eyes on me make heat flood through my body anyway.
When I'm naked and trembling, he just stares. Taking in every detail like he's memorizing it. Or saying goodbye.
"On your knees."
I drop, and he circles me slowly. Predator assessing prey. I feel his gaze tracking over me—the bruises from being dragged to the basement, the marks on my throat from his hands, the tremors I can't control.
"You're terrified." Not a question.
"Y-Yes."
"Perfect." He stops in front of me. Starts unbuckling his belt. "You should be. Because I'm going to fuck you like I hate you."
The words should make me want to run.
They make me wetter.
He sees it. Sees how my thighs press together, how my breath catches. A dark smile crosses his face.
"Of course you're turned on. Because you're just as fucked up as I am." He frees his cock, already hard. "Open."
I do. Let him slide into my mouth without preamble. No gentleness. Just immediate depth that makes me gag.
He doesn't stop. Just holds my head in place and starts fucking my mouth with brutal strokes.
"That's it. Choke on it." His voice is rough. "Cry those pretty tears while I use your throat."
I'm gagging, eyes watering, struggling to breathe. But I don't pull away. Just take it. Take everything he's giving me because I deserve this pain.
Because this isn’t pain at all and I crave it.
He pulls out suddenly. Saliva connects my lips to his cock in obscene strings.
"Bed. On your hands and knees."
I scramble up. Position myself exactly how he wants. Ass in the air, face pressed to expensive sheets, trembling with hunger, anticipation, and need.
His hand comes down on my ass. Hard. The crack echoes through the room.
I cry out.
"That's one." Another hit. Harder. "For every lie you told me."
Again. And again. And again. Each strike harder than the last. My ass is on fire, I'm sobbing into the sheets, and I'm so wet I can feel it dripping down my thighs.
"Please—"
"Please what?" Another strike. "Please stop? Please fuck you? Please forgive you?"
"I don't know—" It comes out broken.
"Then suffer." He spreads my legs wider. Slides two fingers into me without warning. "Fuck, you're soaking. Getting off on being punished, aren't you?"
"Yes!" The admission tears out.
He removes his fingers, and I feel his cock line up. "This is going to hurt."
He slams into me in one brutal thrust.
I scream. It's too much, too fast, burning and stretching and overwhelming.
"Take it." He doesn't give me time to adjust. Just starts fucking me with punishing strokes that make the bed shake. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted me to use you. Hurt you. Make you pay."
"Yes—Oh, yes!"
His hand tangles in my hair. Pulls my head back at a painful angle. "Look at me."
I do. See his face in the mirror across the room. See the rage and pain and something darker underneath.
"Watch yourself get fucked by the man you betrayed." He increases the pace. "Watch yourself love every second of it."
I can't look away. Can see my face—tear-streaked, desperate, completely wrecked. Can see him behind me, muscles straining, jaw clenched, taking out every ounce of fury on my body.
"Lev! I'm going to—"
"No, you're not." He stops completely. Pulls out. Leaves me empty and aching. "You don't get to come until I say so."
A sob tears from my throat. "Please!"
"Beg better than that." He flips me onto my back. Grabs my thighs. Spreads them wide. "Beg me like you mean it."
"Please, Lev. Please let me come. I need it. Need you. I'll do anything—"
"Anything?" His eyes glitter dangerously. "Would you leave Mila without saying goodbye? Would you disappear tonight if I asked?"
The question is a test. A trap.
"No." The truth. "I can't do that to her. Can't leave without explaining."
"Wrong answer." He slams back into me. Sets a brutal pace that makes me see stars. "Try again. Tell me the truth, why can’t you leave?"
"I—I don't know what you want me to say!"
"The truth." He leans down and pins my wrists above my head. "Tell me the fucking truth for once in your life."
"I love you!" It explodes out of me. "That is my truth. I love you and I'm terrified and I don't want to leave and I know I don't deserve to stay but I'm begging you—please don't make me go—"
He goes completely still. Buried deep inside me. Eyes locked on mine.
The silence stretches.
Then he moves. Slow, deep strokes that hit different now. Not punishment. Something else.
"Say it again." His voice is rough.
"I love you." Tears streaming down my face. "I love you, Lev. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything—"
His mouth crashes to mine. Swallows the apologies. Kisses me like he's drowning and I'm air.
When he breaks away, his forehead rests against mine. "I should kill you for this. For making me feel this. For making me want you despite everything."
"I know."
"But I can't." The confession sounds like it's being torn from him. "Can't kill you. Can't let you go. Can't do anything except keep you here and hate myself for it."
He starts moving again. Faster now. Chasing release.
"Come." The command is rough. "Come for me, Valerie. Show me who you belong to."
I shatter. The orgasm rips through me so hard I scream his name. Clench around him. Feel him follow immediately after, buried deep, coming with a Russian curse, fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.
We collapse together. Both gasping. Both trembling. Both completely wrecked.
He stays inside me. Wraps his arms around me like he can't let go.
"This changes nothing." His voice is muffled against my neck. "Patrick is still out there. The threat is still real. You still betrayed me."
"I know."
"But you're staying. We finish this together. And when it's over—" He pulls back enough to look at me. "When it's over, we figure out what the fuck this is."
Hope flickers in my chest for the first time in days. "What do you want it to be?"
"I don't know." Honest answer. "Part of me wants to lock you in this room and never let you leave.
Part of me wants to send you away so I never have to feel this vulnerable again.
And part of me—" His jaw clenches. "Part of me wants to forgive you.
And that might be the most terrifying option of all. "
I reach up. Cup his face. "I'll earn it. However long it takes. I'll earn your trust again."
"Maybe." He doesn't sound convinced. "Or maybe we just destroy each other completely. Won't know until we try."
He pulls out carefully. Collapses beside me on the bed. Pulls me against his chest like he used to.
And we lie there in the dark, covered in sweat and blood and the wreckage of everything we've done to each other.
"Patrick comes for us soon," Lev says finally. "When he does, I need to know you'll fight beside me. Not run. Not betray me. Fight."
"I will." No hesitation. "Whatever it takes. I'm with you."
"Good." His arms tighten around me. "Because this war just got personal. And we're going to end it together."
I believe him.
Believe that somehow, impossibly, we might survive this.
That maybe there's a version of this story where I get to keep him. Keep Mila. Keep this broken, fucked-up family I've built.
But first, we have to survive Patrick's revenge.
And that might be the hardest battle yet.