Chapter Two
Nikolai
It’s not just my property the woman from before seems to be intruding.
It’s my head too.
Her scent still lingers, and I can still feel the smooth texture of her skin under my grip. I can practically see how her nipples puckered under my gaze, pink and tempting like ripe cherries waiting to be tasted.
D’yavol’skaya suka.
I shake off the memory and force myself back into the present moment.
Timur stands in front of the mirror, evaluating his outfit.
He loops the tie around his white, collared shirt for the third time in a row.
Which is strange. Timur always has it together.
It’s why he’s been my right-hand man since I became the pakhan.
He isn’t just my best friend and confidant—he’s also a business partner.
I step forward and yank the tie straight for him.
“Spasibo, bratan.”
He continues staring at his reflection in the mirror. Today, he wears a suit and has even done up the top button, which is unusual for a man like him. He was raised by the streets and he rarely dresses like this. Even when he does, his sleeves are rolled up in case he needs to get his hands dirty.
But tonight’s different.
He’ll tie the knot soon and I can’t have him do that in jeans and a leather jacket.
But it’s not his outfit that makes me frown. It’s his prolonged standing and staring in silence.
“Nervous?”
“Nyet,” he says. “But I know what this marriage means.”
We both do. It’s an arranged marriage. Happens in the Bratva all the time. I encouraged the wedding to go ahead because Sophia’s mother and mine were lifelong friends. I trust her family. Plus, Sophia’s mother has always had a soft spot for me, especially since my own mother died.
As for her daughter, she is young, loyal, and ripe. Just what Timur needs. Sophia will milk his dick every night, and with time, maybe even give him an heir. She’ll help him keep his head straight which is exactly what I need from a man in his position.
“Rasslablyat’sya, bratok,” I tell him. “Relax. It’s not like she’s in love with you.”
Timur smirks, adjusting his silver-plated cufflinks. It takes him a moment to work out how to fix them to the sleeves. “She is, she just doesn’t know it yet.” He turns around from the mirror and looks at me. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll be a good husband. And her family’s debts will be paid.”
I nod, satisfied. It’s what I want to hear.
The marriage will be good for them both.
Sophia will receive money from Timur to support her own family, and Timur’s sick father will receive personal care from Sophia, being the highly skilled nutritionist she is.
That way Timur won’t be distracted and can focus on his role in the Bratva.
“Khorosho.” I pat him on the back. “I have something to take care of in my office. I’ll be back, before the ceremony starts.”
I close the door behind me and move a hand through my hair. We’re getting started soon. Incoherent chatter buzzes everywhere, and steps echo around the open plan house as people march across the reception hall to get to the court area.
Hosting an event like this is not something I do every day.
Normally, when I host something over at the estate, it’s a dimly lit boardroom meeting that involves my closest men, discussing strategy and business around the table.
Tonight’s different. This evening is all about opulence, tuxedos, and vodka.
I’m almost at the entrance of my office when something yellow and shiny catches my eye. Someone in a lemon silk dress who’s not supposed to be here.
Is that…?
Yobani Urod!
It’s her. The same goddamn woman I kicked out earlier.
How the fuck did she manage to sneak past the guards again? I made sure to have this estate crawling with security today.
It’s nothing short of impressive, but I don’t have time to entertain her today. There are bigger things going on, and it appears that this woman is trying to make herself a problem. My problem. I can’t allow that.
I watch her as she slips through the space like she belongs here. Like she hasn’t already been caught. My blood boils and I clench my jaw, watching as she moves down the stairs, her slender hand on my gold railing as she descends the grand staircase back down to the reception hall.
The fabric tightens around her ass, and my cock twitches.
Again.
The same thing happened the last time I stopped her. She smelled so fucking divine, like honey and lemongrass and something floral. I almost smell it again now, as I watch her descend. Dark curls of hair bounce around her shoulders as she turns to the right to check her surroundings.
Cheeky suka.
It seems she has stolen one of the catering aprons.
A part of me wants to be amused, but I tense my jaw. I don’t trust coincidences. They rarely happen in my world. I narrow my eyes to watch where she goes next.
Predictable.
Of course, she’s heading to the bridal suite.
I start after her, charging forward, swinging around the banister, launching myself down multiple steps at once to catch up with her. Several of my men acting as security guards turn my way when they see me sprinting across the hall.
“I’ll handle this.”
They nod and resume their positions.
It would be easier to have one of them escort her out, but it’s my house that she has broken into. And there’s a part of me that wants to deal with her personally.
Before she can reach the bridal suite, I grab her wrist and pull her back.
“This is ridiculous!” she snaps, turning around to face me. She sticks out her bottom jaw and scoffs. “Are we seriously doing this again?”
“Da.”
We share another look, and it’s like she knows what I’m about to do. I prove her right and tighten my grip. Then, I force her through the reception.
“Hey!” She twists her body, refusing my grip. “Get your hands off me!”
“I wouldn’t cause a scene if I were you.”
“Let me speak to Sophia and I won’t!”
A few of the guests turn around to see what’s going on. She attempts a head-butt, but it’s unsuccessful. But I smell her scent again, and my cock starts to raise.
Blyad.
She’s a fiery one.
Just my type.
Her skin is too damn soft. Warm like the color of honey. Yellow looks good on her, but I’m more intrigued by what’s underneath. If she’s only half as feisty in the bedroom as she is here, breaking her would be the sweetest victory I’ve tasted in years.
Head in the game, Rogov!
I shake off the thought and focus on the situation instead of how hard my cock is getting. But it doesn’t help that she continues squirming, fighting me, refusing to surrender even though I’m sure she knows there’s no getting past my strength.
Not a quitter, I’ll give her that.
Approaching another set of stairs, I scoop her up and balance her over one shoulder.
She continues to wrestle, heeled shoes stabbing into my back.
I sense this isn’t about escaping me anymore—she would’ve by now if she knew how to, and besides, she’s only growing weaker.
No. This is about me and what I represent.
I saw her eyes earlier, when the guard dropped my name into conversation.
It appears she has heard my name before.
It will be interesting to see where she knows it from.
“Hey! Put me down, you ape!” Her fingernails dig into my scalp, and she swings an arm around my neck.
Unfortunately for her, my neck is too wide for her arm to loop fully around.
But I commend her. I don’t know much about this woman, but I do know two things.
One, she cares deeply about Sophia, and two, she doesn’t like to lose.
Not that it matters much. She can do whatever the fuck she wants after the wedding, just not before.
We end up in my bedroom this time, not the guest one next to the bridal suite.
I launch her onto the bed, and she attempts to scramble to her feet. I walk over to the nightstand, open a draw and produce a pair of handcuffs. A shadow crosses her face. For the first time tonight, she looks scared.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You’re staying here.”
“What?”
I don’t respond. Instead, I grab her wrist and tighten one of the cuffs around her slender wrist. Then, I chain it up to the headboard.
“You keep handcuffs in your nightstand? Jesus.”
“I have much worse,” I say, lowering my face to hers. “But I don’t think you could handle it.”
I stay there for a moment longer, our faces inches apart. Her eyes search me like she’s waiting for me to say more, but I’m done here. I don’t trust myself to spend more time alone with her in this room.
Bozhe Moy, she looks fucking gorgeous, especially now that I have her chained to my bed.
My own fucking bed. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, but it’s done.
It was a mistake to choose my own room. My sheets are going to be doused in her feminine scent tonight when I go to sleep.
She’s already left her mark as it is. I don’t need her perfume lingering, too.
Sosredotoch’sya!
I rise from the bed and look back at her, tormenting my cock even more. The silk skirt from her dress rides up, settling high on her thighs to expose more of her smooth, tanned skin. She keeps her legs together, but I imagine them wide open. Me between them.
Seeing her breast earlier was enough for one day. Yet, my eyes crave to see them again. The rounded shape. Her blushed pink nipples.
That’s enough, mudak.
Snap out of it.
No matter how fucking perfect she looks, she’s an intruder and she broke into my house. Twice.
So, I head to the door and make a point of pocketing the handcuff key. “Sit tight.”
“I’ll scream,” she says. “Somebody will hear me.”
I stand in the doorway. “My staff are used to hearing people scream.” I stare at her for one more moment to let her digest that.
Then, I turn around and shut the door behind me.