Chapter 17 #2
My words, more than anything, set her off.
Her body lifts off the bed, forcing me to keep her in place so she can take her punishment like the bad girl she is.
And when she squeezes me with her walls, suffocating me until I don’t know where she ends and I begin, I unravel, following her over the precipice, cursing through gritted teeth at the image of my cum inside her.
We’re a tangle of loose limbs, two sated souls crashing back to earth, my head resting carefully on her chest. I barely have a second to enjoy the afterglow before Stella threads her fingers through my hair and lifts my head toward her.
“So where do these chicks live?”
“You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine,” I tease, with a crooked grin plastered all over my face.
“Asshole,” she grumbles, letting go of my hair.
Still, I don’t fall back down on her chest and stare into her eyes instead.
“None of them meant anything to me. Not one. They’re just blurred faces from a time I’d rather forget. None of them holds a candle to you. None of them.”
Stella’s gaze softens as she continues to stare at me and read the truth in my words.
“You’re a hard act to follow, too,” she whispers, running her fingers around the curve of my jaw.
“Good. Because no one is ever going to follow me. I may not have been your first in most accounts, but I will be your last, milaya. I promise you that.”
I half expect her to curse me out, say something about how she’s no man’s possession or property, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t say one word in rebuke. Instead, she meets my gaze with those stellar eyes of hers, full of vows she isn’t ready to admit.
I lie back on her chest and listen to her heartbeat while she plays with the strands of my hair. For the first time since she’s arrived in Russia, I find myself daring to hope. And hope is a dangerous thing to have. Because once stolen, it’s enough to break even the strongest of men.
The next morning, I reach out for Stella without thinking, only for my fingers to brush cold sheets. A hollow feeling settles in my gut as I push upright and sweep my eyes across the room. Nothing. No sign of her anywhere.
A quick glance at my watch tells me it’s nearly noon. Blyad. I overslept. I never oversleep. Ever. But after spending most of the night making love to my woman, I guess my body needed a few hours of shut-eye to recharge.
I rush to the bathroom and take a quick shower, anxious to find Stella.
The idea of her walking around the house alone doesn’t sit well with me.
Misha might refrain from saying anything too damaging, but Sasha is another story.
Etiquette and hospitality have never been his strong suit.
And since he’s made it clear that anyone related to Jude Romano is, by proxy, tied to the Cranes, I’m not exactly eager to test his self-control.
Once I’m dressed, I head downstairs in search of Stella, only to find her and her brother, Lucky, in the library with Misha, Sasha, and a suspiciously mute Kostya.
“Good morning,” I say, taking in their tense faces.
“Is it?” Stella replies, crossing her legs, her foot bouncing with irritation. “I’ve had better.”
Ouch. After last night, that’s definitely not the greeting I was hoping for, but apparently, it’s the only one I’m getting.
“What’s going on?” I ask, directing the question to my Pakhan, since it’s obvious he’s the reason behind my woman’s foul mood.
“Our guests will be leaving this afternoon,” he says matter-of-factly, so casually I almost want to punch him.
“And why is that?” I demand, unable to hide my irritation at the thought of him kicking Stella out of our home.
“Since Stella is now well enough to fly, and Christmas is just a few days away, her father thought it prudent to send his jet to pick up his children today.”
I don’t miss the way he calls Stella a child to my face.
“Neither Stella nor Luciano is a child. They’re both adults and can make their own decisions. If they want to stay, they can.”
Misha’s cold stare digs into me, sending a chill down my spine. “Their father would disagree.”
“Their father isn’t here,” I shoot back, holding my ground.
“Fair point. Then why don’t you ask our guests if they’d like to stay?” he says, his tone sharp and deliberate, eyes shifting to Stella and Lucky.
“Stella?” I call out her name when she pointedly avoids looking at me.
“It’s time we went home.” That’s all she says before standing up and strutting out of the library.
Unable to stop myself, I run after her into the entry hall and catch her by the wrist, gently turning her to face me.
“The fuck was that?!”
“What do you mean?” she asks, playing innocent.
“Don’t give me that shit. You know exactly what I mean. Why are you running away from me?”
“Oh, don’t be so goddamn conceited. Not everything revolves around you.”
“Is that so?” I call her bluff. “So what we did last night has no bearing whatsoever on your decision to leave me?”
“I’m not leaving you, Kirill. I’m going home. It’s clear that Lucky and I have overstayed our welcome.”
“Did my brother say that?”
“He didn’t have to. Only a blind fool would think otherwise.”
“That’s not true. I can fix this. Let me fix this. I’ll talk to Misha and then—”
“And then what, Kill?” she snaps. “What exactly were you expecting to happen here? That I’d stay with your family for the holidays while mine worry themselves sick about our safety?
No.” She shakes her head and steps back, breaking my hold.
“I’m going home. Just like the Pakhan and my father ordered. ”
“Since when are you a stickler for the rules?”
“Since I got a fucking bullet in me because of you!” she yells, using my guilt like a blade, twisting it deep.
“That’s a low blow.”
“Maybe. But it’s still the truth. It’s obvious I’m not safe here. That my presence in this house is unwanted.”
“I want you here!” I snap, grabbing her arms again. “Me. I want you!” She lowers her head, still refusing to look at me. “Please, milaya…. don’t go.”
She slips free of my hands and takes two large steps back.
“You’ve found your niece, Kill. You should focus on her.
Not me,” she says, as if putting a final period on whatever we are.
“I’m going upstairs to pack. Frankie and Elena went into town for her doctor’s appointment, but they should be back at any minute.
Once they arrive, we’ll say our goodbyes and that will be the end of it. ”
“End of what, precisely?”
She doesn’t answer. She just turns her back on me and starts up the stairs.
However, before she can take another step, her hand curling around the railing, I whisper, “You’re running. That’s what you’re doing. I got too close and now… now you’re running home pretending none of it meant shit to you. That I don’t mean anything to you.”
Stella freezes, still not facing me, and I hear the breath she pulls in, bracing herself. “I don’t run from anything. Least of all you.”
“Liar. That’s exactly what you’re doing. And here I thought you were one of the bravest women I’ve ever met.”
Stella’s knuckles go white as she tightens her grip on the rail. “Think whatever you want. As usual, I’m the one in the right here. Not you.”
“More lies.”
Her shoulders sink before she finally turns her head just enough to look at me over her shoulder.
“I have exams when I get back. And you have a new strip club to open. We’ll both be busy for the next few months,” she says quietly.
“Yeah, I get it, Stella. I get it. You won’t have time for me anymore,” I reply, matching her tone. “Fine. Run. Do what you have to. You know where to find me.”
With that, it’s my turn to walk away, so I leave before giving her the chance of hammering another nail into my already battered heart.
After watching Stella board her plane, the car ride back from the airport is a sullen one. My brothers are also unusually quiet, though I’m pretty sure that has more to do with Kira deciding to head back to Chicago with her boyfriend than with my own personal disaster.
It’s been a hell of a shitty day. Even after Stella told me to stay clear of her once she got home, we still fought the entire drive to the airport. With Lucky and Kira in the backseat with us, a lot of what we were pissed about remained unspoken, but the tension was loud enough to make our point.
I held onto hope like a fool, right up until the last minute. Hope that she would change her mind. Hope that she wouldn’t board her father’s fucking plane.
However, I forgot the one thing that would always force her hand.
The caveat that would always make every decision for her—Stella would never intentionally disappoint her father.
Not while he still holds the keys to her future.
Pissing off the Capo dei Capi while she’s trying to prove she’s worthy of induction into the Outfit would only sabotage her chances.
At least that’s the lie I feed myself to survive the hollow ache in my chest, the pain of her choosing something other than me.
When the car pulls up to the compound gates, I’m already imagining how I’ll spend the rest of the holidays—drunk off my ass, trying to forget the way Stella’s body melts into mine when I’m kissing her.
However, Misha has other plans for all of us. “Meet me in the library. I’ll be there shortly,” he says as he slips out of the car.
“And where are you going?” Kostya shouts after him.
“To talk with my wife.”
“Great. Love having to wait for your ass while you have a quickie,” Kostya mumbles under his breath, smacking his head back against the leather seat before he drags himself out of the car. He glances back at me when he sees I make no move to follow him. “You coming?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Do any of us?” he groans.
“Enough, both of you,” Sasha snaps, his expression carved from steel. “If the Pakhan wants to speak with us, we’ll wait as long as needed.”