Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
ARTEM
"A nd what is she going to think of this little plan?" Pavel asked as I opened the door to the grand mansion Gregor had lent me.
"She's going to call me several words that should not come out of the mouth of a lady and accuse me of being a controlling, heavy-handed brute. Then she is going to refer to this home as a gilded cage, and probably start a fight. She has a temper."
"Fiery, is she? What's she going to do when she finds out about that call you made earlier?"
"Honestly, it doesn't matter."
"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?" Pavel asked, shooting me a look as we walked into the home.
This mansion was tastefully decorated. Even I had to begrudgingly admit, I was impressed.
All modern furnishings, clean and new, but with a homey feel. Gregor had it completely redone and retrofitted for security, even though he didn't know who was going to live here.
"It's done. As long as she's alive, she can be mad all she wants. She can pace around this entire mansion until she drops from exhaustion, but she'll be alive. Having her alive and pissed off is far better than having a pretty corpse with a bullet in her brain."
The intensity in my voice caught me off guard.
This wasn't business anymore.
This was personal—uncomfortably so.
"Well, that got dark fast," Pavel said as he opened a door off to the side that showed the surveillance systems that had the entire house wired.
"After last night, I'm not taking any chances."
"Last night when she ran away or last night when we sent a very bloody message?"
"Both."
It was true. It seemed like every single day, more and more dangers were piling up that put Viktoria at risk. I couldn't have that. I just could not risk her life. It didn't matter if the person holding the gun was trying to settle a debt because of her father or if they were trying to hunt me down. I didn't even give a fuck if it was some random drunken college student trying to cop a feel.
No one was getting their hands on her.
The desperate need to protect her clawed at my chest like a caged animal.
This wasn't just about possession anymore.
Somewhere along the way, she'd become necessary.
Vital.
The realization sent a cold wave of panic through me.
"So why does Gregor have this place all ready? It just seems so wasteful. Why spend the money on this massive mansion for no one to live in it?"
I grabbed my brother's arm and pulled him through the formal dining room and into the kitchen to the back patio. The house was surrounded by thick, dense trees on either side, but it backed up to a small lake. If you looked across the lake, you could just make out Gregor's home.
"Ah," Pavel said, understanding sinking in.
This house could have been a weak point. If Gregor didn't buy it and put it under the umbrella of his security, someone else could have bought it. Snipers could have laid in comfortable chairs until they got his wife in their scope and they would have never seen it coming.
This way, not only did it provide that extra security and privacy, but it was available when visiting family members needed somewhere to stay. Or maybe if their family grew even larger. Either way, I was grateful.
The cabin we were staying in was secure and on Damien's property, but it wasn't fit for her. It was fine for any of the men. It would have been fine if it had been just me. The cabin was clean and cozy, but my princess deserved a palace and that was what I was going to give her.
There was a small part of me that hoped the house would soften the blow of the other things I had to do, but I doubted it.
A part of me wanted to show her that even when we were in hiding, even when the stakes were higher, she would always be kept in the lap of luxury. Always.
I found myself planning for a future that stretched beyond the next power move, beyond the next kill. Since when did I think like this? Since when did I cave to the whims of a woman I hadn't even fully broken yet?
Pavel and I came back inside to complete our tour of my new temporary home when a knock at the front door pulled our attention and four of my men walked in. Eyes wide as they took in the grandeur of the home.
"I need all of these rooms dusted and cleaned. The security systems need to be checked and rechecked. I want to make sure no one else is getting the feed from inside the house and every single camera and motion detector within a mile radius is working and nothing is blocked. Check and recheck every single lock, every window, to make sure this place is tighter than a nun's cunt."
The men nodded, and Pavel showed them to the security hub.
They would start there, get familiar with the system, and start walking every single camera. Normally I would never waste their time with tasks such as cleaning. Instead, I would offer to pay their sisters, daughters, wives, mothers, baby mommas, significant others, whoever, to come and do that work.
The men would make jokes about it being women's work and then they would get pissed off when they realized I paid their women better than I paid them, which was always a little entertaining.
Right now, I couldn't afford for anyone who wasn't blood or part of the inner circle to know about this house.
Every single person who knew about it would be just another liability.
I couldn't risk it. I wouldn't risk it.
I knew Gregor's normal cleaning crew covered this house every few weeks, and the furniture was all covered with sheets, so hopefully it wouldn't be too difficult.
While they got to work, I went to a room in the back corner of the house. For the moment, I was going to use this as my home office.
I had to admit, the office was surprisingly nice. A dark oxblood-red-colored wall had a subtle damask pattern in a slightly darker red. One wall was filled with built-in bookshelves. The large bay window took up almost an entire wall with a stunning view looking over the lake. With all the different trees, I knew that this view would be impressive regardless of the season. Right now, it was filled with the dark reds and oranges of fall, leaves fluttering down like light rain over the glassy lake.
On the other side of the room was a gigantic fireplace with a classic stone hearth, flanked by more bookcases, and a bearskin rug covered part of the wooden floor between the fireplace and the leather couch.
For only a second, I pictured what Viktoria would look like spread out naked on that rug, a roaring fire keeping her skin warm while she waited for me to finish up my day's work and fuck her. God, she would be the worst distraction and the greatest reward.
I could see us, sweaty and exhausted after marathon sex. Me stretched out on the sofa, her laying on top of me, her eyes heavy as she watched the flames dancing in the depths of that fireplace before sleep took her.
The detail of the vision startled me.
I wasn't a man who thought in terms of "after."
I took what I wanted and moved on.
But with her...fuck.
With her, I was contemplating a future.
The thought twisted my stomach with unfamiliar anxiety.
What if I stopped this power grab from Gregor? Found a way for us to work side by side conquering not only the new world, but keeping a firm grip on the old. Could I do that from here?
I thought so. I was sure that once I convinced Gregor we could do this together, he would sell me the house. Or I would just kill him and take it, anyway.
I sat in the leather executive chair behind the walnut writing desk, looking out at the view. Could she be happy here? In the long run?
Since when did I care about a woman's happiness beyond ensuring her body was satisfied?
I rubbed my temples, disturbed by the direction of my thoughts.
I didn't know.
Viktoria fought fiercely for her independence, something I actually admired about her, and was willing to give to her to some extent.
But not while her life was in danger.
There was too much up in the air.
Too much uncertainty right now.
I thought back to that vision I had of us on that bearskin rug and wondered if that was really why I was keeping her.
Was it the danger?
I was giving her my name, and I'd tell her it was for her safety…but was it?
Or did I just want to keep her as my own?
With any other woman I would have left them in the cabin. Hell, I probably would have left them in the apartment in Virginia, thinking it was secure enough.
Leaning back in the chair, I realized that wasn't true either.
If it were any other woman I wouldn't be paying for their education. I wouldn't give a flying fuck where they lived, and their safety would be the responsibility of whatever next of kin they had.
Maybe if I were feeling generous or guilty about killing her father and brother, I would have paid for one year of tuition. I definitely wouldn't have given a flying fuck if she had gone to a frat party.
Viktoria was different.
She wasn't every other woman.
She was mine.
A cold sweat broke out on my brow as the truth hit me.
This wasn't just about ownership anymore.
This was about need.
I needed her alive, needed her safe, needed her happy in ways that had nothing to do with my pride or my reputation.
The realization left me feeling exposed, vulnerable. Weak.
Men in my position couldn't afford weakness.
Men who fell for women ended up with knives in their backs or bullets in their skulls.
Viktoria may not have known it yet, and I believed she was going to fight that fact with everything she had, but it was still a fact. The funny part was I was pretty sure that if she had just rolled over and accepted it, I wouldn't have even bothered.
She was my princess, my goddess in the making, and I would treat her as such.
I hated myself for the flowery fucking thoughts. What had she done to me? When had I become this pathetic, lovestruck fool? I clenched my fists, anger mixing with the unfamiliar emotions coursing through me.
And I was going to relish the fight that ensued. Almost as much as I was going to enjoy breaking her down again and hearing her beg for me. The words of submission and acceptance when she knew she had lost were beyond sweet.
Not because she said them, but because I earned them.
Pulled the unwilling confessions from her stubborn lips with force.
She may deny meaning them, she probably lied to herself saying they were false promises made in the moment. She could tell herself that all she liked. I knew the truth. I had broken her; she gave voice to her deepest secrets because of me.
She liked being fucked like a piece of property, she liked when I punished her, she liked the way I made her feel, and she hated herself for it. That would ease in time.
And I hated myself for caring.
Artem Ivanov didn't care.
He took.
He conquered.
He didn't pine like some lovesick teenager.
Staring out of the window was like looking at a Hallmark card, it was all so peaceful. I was starting to understand my cousin's choices more and more. Every choice of theirs that I criticized or questioned now made more sense.
Why would Gregor buy this massive estate outside of the city where everything needed to happen? Why not put the girls in a luxury penthouse instead?
Because this estate provided privacy and security that a penthouse could never have. In a penthouse, a sniper could be perched on any rooftop. It was impossible to have them all covered at all times.
Out here, the dense forest and the wildlife limited the access points.
I outright criticized my cousin for putting his wife as his first priority in his choices. I openly mocked him for chasing this woman for three years and not being able to find her.
Now I knew that if Viktoria ran again, if she somehow got out of the city, it wouldn’t matter how long it took. I would search every square mile of this planet until I had her back in my bed.
There was no length that I wouldn't go to keep her safe.
The realization rattled me to my core. I'd been consumed by women before—by their bodies, by the conquest—but never by the need to protect. Never by the desire to see them smile. When had this little captive crawled under my skin and into whatever remained of my heart?
A crash sounded behind me, followed by several raised voices, ruining the calming effect of the view.
Getting up, I went to see who did what now, just to find Pavel clutching his sides as he laughed at two of the men trying to climb on top of a white sofa in their muddy boots to check a camera.
Viktoria did not deserve to stay in a home with dirty furniture.
"Get the fuck down," I barked, startling one of the men into falling backward onto the floor, breaking the coffee table on the way down.
With my jaw clenched, I waited for him to stand up and dust himself off before I laid into him.
"Now I have to get that table and the sofa replaced because you're not housebroken."
"I'm sorry boss, I'll pay you–"
"I don't give a fuck about the money. We are running low on time. I need this house secure and ready yesterday."
Pavel grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the office. I turned on my heel and returned to the window.
"Explain yourself," Pavel said.
"You forget who I am, brother, I don't have to explain myself to you or anyone else," I snapped.
"You just almost took one of our most trusted men's heads off because he put a footprint on a sofa, a leather sofa, by the way, where it'll wipe away cleanly. The coffee table he broke isn't even yours."
"I don't care. This place needs to be perfect."
"Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me. Pavel always saw too much, and he already knew why.
"Because Viktoria isn't going to like being stripped of her freedom. She puts too much value on her independence. When she gets here, I need everything in place. I need this place to be good enough that she’ll choose to stay."
"I didn't realize you were giving her a choice," Pavel said.
"I'm not. But I have found things go far smoother if Viktoria thinks it's her idea."
"Is she, though? Is she going to think any of this was her idea?"
"No," I said, realizing that it didn't matter how nice this place was. When she got here, it would be a fight. It didn't matter if it was because of the house itself or how I was intending to change her last name.
I turned away from Pavel, unwilling to let him see the turmoil in my eyes.
This wasn't me—this obsessive need to please her, to keep her safe, to make her happy.
I was becoming a man I didn't recognize, a man weakened by emotion.
And the most terrifying part was that I couldn't bring myself to stop.
"You're in too deep," Pavel said quietly.
"Shut up," I growled, but there was no real venom in it. He was right, and we both knew it.
"She's just a woman, Artem."
I turned to him then, my expression deadly. "No. She's not. And that's the fucking problem."