21. Chapter Twenty-One
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
T he peaceful veneer of life, between Brotherhood business, had its limits. Isadora settled into our home well enough, her smile sweet and welcoming every time I walked through the door. But beneath that wifely exterior, she carried the weight of her past like a shadow. Her father, an elusive bastard, remained a ghost, untouchable and unseen. My men couldn’t find him. They had no description, no concrete details, as if he didn’t even exist beyond the whispers of his influence.
Isadora’s memories were no better. Every time I pressed her for details, her face would grow pale, her hands twisting in her lap, as she struggled to recall. But the harder she tried, the fuzzier the image became. It was as if her mind refused to let her remember, a defense mechanism against the monster she’d fled. I hated forcing her to dredge up those memories, but I needed answers. I needed him.
Makari’s disappearance gnawed at me. He hadn’t been answering his phone and, when he did, his text responses were curt and evasive. I hadn’t seen him around the mansion in days. He’d always been reclusive, but this felt different. It wasn’t just the absence; it was the silence, the way he’d avoided me entirely.
I’d swept through the Petrov mansion one last time, irritation simmering just beneath my skin. No sign of Makari. No updates on the cartel’s plans. Nothing. My patience thinned to a dangerous edge. If he was off playing with that Yakuza girl again, he’d have a hell of a lot to answer for. She was a vicious little thing and, if he wasn’t careful, she’d do more than scratch him. She’d rip him apart.
Worry twisted in my gut, as I drove to his penthouse. It was his favorite hideaway, one of the few places he could retreat to, when the world became too much. If he wasn’t there, I didn’t know where else to look, and I didn’t like that feeling.
The valet barely glanced at me as I strode inside, the tension radiating off me enough to keep him silent. I scanned my finger to access the penthouse floor, the elevator ride feeling slower than usual. My hand tightened on the gun at my hip.
The moment I stepped into the foyer, the sharp metallic scent of dried blood hit me. My eyes swept the room, and there it was; spattered on the floor, dark and crusted. I knelt, touching it briefly. It had been there for days. The scene felt wrong. Silent. Too still.
Gun drawn, I moved through the penthouse, each step calculated, my senses sharp. When I reached the second floor, a force slammed into me, knocking me back.
Hair—wild, black, everywhere. Her brown skin was scratched and bruised, her eyes feral, like an animal caught in a trap. She clawed at me, her nails raking against my forearms as I grabbed her wrists, twisting them just enough to make her stop.
“Kaida,” I growled, recognition flashing as I stared at her wild, furious face. “Calm the fuck down. ”
She froze, her chest heaving as her eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name?” she spat, her voice sharp and raw.
“Because I’m with the Brotherhood,” I snapped. “I helped rescue you. Now tell me where the hell Makari is.”
She hesitated, her gaze darting toward the hallway. Slowly, she nodded, biting at her chapped lip. She turned without a word, her movements stiff, and led me down the hall. I didn’t lower my gun, not trusting her for a second.
The bedroom door creaked open and my stomach dropped. There, on the bed, was Makari; a lifeless lump wrapped in gauze, his breathing shallow, his face pale. I moved closer, my jaw tightening as I took in the sight of him. His mouth was covered, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
“What the fuck happened to him?” I demanded, turning to Kaida.
She didn’t meet my eyes, her gaze fixed on the floor. She shrugged, her shoulders trembling. The lie was obvious, painted all over her guilty expression.
I stepped closer, towering over her, letting the weight of my anger fill the room. “What. Happened?”
Her voice wavered as she spoke, barely more than a whisper. “He told me I was pretty. He tried to… kiss me,” her words came faster, tumbling out in a rush. “I panicked. I was scared. I… bit his tongue off.”
My blood ran cold, anger and disbelief twisting together in a dangerous mix. I looked back at Makari, his labored breaths the only sound in the room. “You what?”
Her gaze darted to the side, her voice quieter now. “I tried to help him. Clean him up. But…” she trailed off, her eyes distant, as if reliving the moment.
The doctor arrived shortly after, his face grim as he assessed the situation. “He’s running a dangerously high fever,” he muttered, hooking Makari up to an IV. “If you hadn’t come when you did, he wouldn’t have lasted the night.”
I stood in the corner, arms crossed, my glare fixed on Kaida. Her slight frame seemed to shrink under the weight of my stare, but I didn’t care. She’d crossed a line, and she’d feel the consequences soon enough.
When Makari’s breathing steadied, and the doctor left, I finally turned to her, my patience long gone. “You think this excuses you?” I asked, my voice low, deadly. “You think biting his tongue off makes you the victim here?”
She backed away, her eyes wide with fear. “He tried to-”
“Enough!” I barked, stepping forward. “You’re alive because I allow it. Do you understand that?” My hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You’re under my protection and that comes with rules. You don’t touch what’s mine.”
Her lips quivered, but she didn’t speak. I released her, letting her stumble back. “You’ll stay here. I’ll deal with you later.”
Turning back to Makari, I sat beside him, watching his chest rise and fall. This wasn’t over. Not with Kaida, not with her father, and certainly not with the cartel. But for now, I needed answers, and I’d get them, no matter the cost.
The trip home took longer than I’d liked since a storm had hit unexpectedly. Or, I should say, I hadn’t looked at the weather report before leaving to begin with. Good thing I had my snow tires on, and visibility was good.
I headed back and parked in the underground garage, locking up tight before taking the elevator up to the main foyer. I didn’t want to leave the car out in the open and have to dig it out later.
I guess we were staying in.
I walked up the stairs and heard the sounds of my wife humming. I followed her voice, until I found her naked in the shower. Like she was waiting for me. The opaque glass covered her, but I knew her intimately.
I could fill in the silhouette.
I took off my clothes and joined her. When I opened the glass shower door, she jumped back with a squeal, soaking her hair.
“Oh no, my hair,” she cried.
It curled up right away, the damage already done. I’d missed her curls, anyway.
“Need some help washing your scalp?” I waggled my eyebrows.
She sighed before nodding, and handed me a conditioner labeled co-wash. I took my time as I sank my fingers into her scalp. I massaged her hair, and she moaned from my ministrations.
After a while, my hands left her scalp and roamed down her body. The titillating sight distracted my mind. Her dark skin was wet and begging for me to lick off every bead of water that touched it.
I tweaked her nipples and nuzzled her neck, as she gasped in delight.
She lifted one leg onto the ledge of the shower wall and widened her stance, so I could slide my fingers into her cunt. I did just that. I finger fucked her while she laid her head against my shoulder.
She cried out for God.
I nudged my hard cock between her thighs, lining up with her cunt. I was going to test her piss after tonight. I wanted to know if my seed had taken root. She was presenting all the signs of being pregnant.
But I needed to be sure.
I thrust inside her, and she gasped at my intrusion.
“Still so fucking tight,” I said through gritted teeth .
I swiveled my hips and relished her cry against my hand. I held one across her mouth and one across her throat, squeezing in time to her throbbing wet cunt.
“Give it to me, pretty wife. Give me your come, so I can fill you up with my seed,” I growled into her ear.
She cried out and clamped down on me. I bit my lip to keep from roaring my orgasm. As soon as my cock stopped throbbing and spurting inside of her, I pulled out.
I helped her out of the spray and we dried off together. We climbed beneath the sheets naked, and I pulled her close to my body, immediately enveloped in her soft scent. She smelled like home.
I never knew I could feel this way about another human being. As her soft snores took off, I climbed out of bed, setting up the contraption in the toilet. It would collect a small urine sample as soon as she went to the bathroom.
I would test it when I woke, and took care of my business.
I slipped back into the sheets and Isadora rolled toward me. I held her tight, praying that she was growing my child. I wanted her tits to fill with milk so I could suckle them. It was one of the greatest fantasies I had of her.
She grumbled in her sleep, like she knew I was still awake. I clung to her and let my heartbeat slow down, timing my breathing with hers. Deep and slow. My eye drifted closed, as I allowed the gentle lull of sleep to take me under.