Chapter 16 - Alexey
After months of flawless teamwork and shared late-night strategy sessions, the tension simmering between us finally snaps.
It happens on a rainy Thursday night when the city lights blur into streaks against the penthouse windows.
I am reviewing the latest damage to Fadir’s network about another supplier folding, another account frozen, when Andrei’s urgent call comes through.
His voice is clipped, professional, but I hear the edge beneath it.
“Fadir made a desperate play. He dug into Anja’s past. Leaked her real last name, Kuzmin, along with grainy photos from her teenage years and the trail of her father’s old gambling debts.
Sent it to the same Sokolov-linked forces who hit her family home when she was just a kid.
Also, to a handful of underworld contacts who still remember the ‘Kuzmin girl’, whose father tried to marry her off before she was of legal age.
He’s trying to drag her past into the open, make her look like a liability, maybe even set her up for blackmail against us.
He wants us to question whether she’s safe to keep around. ”
I don’t raise my voice. I don’t need to. The cold rage that settles in my chest is sharper than any shout.
Fadir has crossed a line.
I already know Anja’s true identity. I have known from the beginning. My background checks are thorough. Her past doesn’t matter to me. She isn’t a liability. She is mine to protect now, whether the original deal allows for it or not. The thought hits hard and possessive:
She is mine, and Fadir has just tried to hurt what is mine.
I end the call with Andrei and move through the penthouse with deliberate calm, but my blood runs hot. The leak has been intercepted at the final stage, and my team buried every trace before it could spread.
But the intent is clear. Fadir is no longer playing for territory. He is playing dirty, aiming straight for the woman who was once his.
I find Anja in the living room, curled on the edge of the black leather sectional with a mug of tea cooling in her hands. She looks up when I enter, her eyes immediately reading the shift in my posture.
“Fadir made a move,” I say, keeping my voice level but direct.
“He dug into your past. Leaked your real name, old photos, and your father’s debts.
Targeted the criminals who showed up at your door, and a few other contacts who might remember the Kuzmin family.
He wanted to expose you, make you a vulnerability we’d have to question. Force us to see you as a risk.”
Her face drains of color. The mug trembles in her hands before she sets it down carefully on the low table. “He… what?”
She stands slowly, arms wrapping around herself as the reality sinks in.
“He is going to drag all of it back…the debts, the night they invaded our house while I hid in the closet. The attempt to marry me off at eighteen. Everything I ran from.” Her voice is cracked and is full of exhaustion.
“He knows how much that still haunts me. He’s trying to break me again.
Make me the weak link so you’ll push me away. ”
The vulnerability in her words hits me harder than any tactical loss ever could. She isn’t angry at that moment. She is tired. Simply bone-deep tired of carrying the weight of her past, of always waiting for it to catch up and ruin whatever fragile safety she has built.
This fiery, sexy woman who handed me the USB drive like a weapon, and who decoded Fadir’s desperate emails with ruthless precision, suddenly looks small under the lamp’s glow.
I cross the room in three strides and stop in front of her, close enough to see the faint tremble in her shoulders but far enough to give her space if she needs it.
“You’re not a liability,” I say quietly.
“I knew your real name from the start. It never mattered. You’re not the girl who ran anymore.
You’re the woman who's helping take down the man who tried to trap you. Fadir wanted to make you a weakness. He failed. My team buried the leak before it spread. He can’t touch you through your past. Not while I’m standing between you and him. ”
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears and something deeper, almost like relief mixed with the exhaustion of carrying secrets for so long.
“I’m so tired of it,” she whispers, voice breaking.
“Tired of hiding who I am, of waiting for the next person to use my father’s past or my mother’s abandonment against me.
Tired of feeling like I’ll always be the Kuzmin girl who almost got sold off to settle someone else’s mess. I just… I want it to stop.”
That honest confession, spoken in the quiet glow of the living-room lamp, is what finally broke the last barrier between us.
The air thickens, heavy and charged with months of carefully contained tension. Respect. Growing attraction. The slow, deliberate dismantling of every wall we have both built.
I reach for her slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She doesn’t. Instead, she steps into the space between us, her hands coming up to rest lightly against my chest. I cup her face with one hand, thumb brushing gently over her cheek, and lean down.
The kiss is single, slow, and unplanned, and soft at first, almost tentative, as if both of us are testing whether this is real.
Then it deepens. Careful. Deliberate. Long overdue.
Months of late-night closeness, the public appearances, quiet dinners where her laughter surprised even her, and the way she reached out to touch the scar on my jaw... all of it pours into that kiss.
She tastes like ginger tea and the quiet strength I have come to crave. Her fingers curl into my shirt as she presses closer, a small sound escaping her that sends heat rushing through me.
I wrap my other arm around her waist, pulling her against me with easy restraint, feeling the warmth of her body, and loving the way she fits so perfectly despite the height difference.
When we finally break apart, breathing unevenly, I rest my forehead against hers.
For the first time, I admit it to myself fully.
I want her far beyond revenge, and far beyond the original tactical arrangement.
She is no longer the girl I pulled out of Fadir’s warehouse and under his thumb.
She was shaking and calling me a monster.
She is the woman who has sharpened the blade against her own betrayer, who has sat across from me at midnight decoding his desperation, who has made the penthouse feel less empty.
She is the woman I will protect with everything I have.
I don’t say the words out loud… not yet. But the truth that settles deep in my chest is undeniable.
Fadir has tried to destroy her safety one last time.
Instead, he has pushed us across the finish line.
Tonight, in the quiet glow of the living-room lamp, with the rain still tapping against the windows, the slow war against him no longer feels like the only thing that matters.
Anja Kuzmin matters more. I lift her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her down the short hallway. The door clicks shut behind us, sealing us in the quiet darkness broken only by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows.
I set her down gently beside the bed, my hands never leaving her body. She looks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen from our kiss.
I kiss her again, slower this time, letting my hands explore the curves I have only imagined in stolen moments. The silk of her top slips easily over her head, revealing smooth skin that warms under my palms.
She shivers as my fingers trace her waist, then her ribs, reverently mapping every inch. Her own hands are bolder now, tugging my shirt free and running over the hard planes of my chest. Her fingertips brushed the faint scars she had once asked about.
“Alexey…” She breathes my name like a prayer and a plea.
As her warm breath brushes over my cheek, I groan as my body reacts to her.
I lower her onto the bed, following her down, but careful to keep my weight braced so I don’t overwhelm her. We move together with a patience that surprises even me, months of restraint giving way to something deeper.
I kiss along her jaw, down the elegant line of her neck, all the while savoring the soft sounds she makes when my mouth finds the sensitive spot just below her ear. Her fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me, encouraging me.
Her hips grind against me as my shaft stiffens under her touch.
Slipping my hands behind her, I'm able to unfasten her bra with one hand, freeing her breasts. She wiggles out of the confining undergarment and tosses it aside.
Sliding one of my hands in between us, I cup one of her breasts and begin tweaking the erect nipple. Using my thumb and index finger, I pinched the nub, causing Anja to moan while lulling her head back.
Seeing her neck fully exposed, I lowered my head, kissing the indent midway between her shoulder and the curvature. As soon as my lips touched her skin, Anja's hands grasped my hair, and her hips ground harder onto my groin.
“Oh, God, Alexey...” Anja begs. “More, please.”
Taking her cue, I shift my weight off of her, but continue fondling her breast, and kissing her on the crook of her neck.
“What do you want?” I breath against her skin. “Tell me.”
“I want you to taste me,” she whispers.
Not needing a further invitation, I lowered my body slightly. As I slid down, my mouth stopped at her breasts, taking her nipple between my teeth, and gently applying pressure.
“Alexey!” Anja gasps. “Please...”
Smiling, I release the erect nub and scoot further down on my bed.
When I finally settle between her thighs, skin against skin, the connection feels inevitable.
She is warm and responsive, arching into me with quiet gasps that make my control almost uncontrollable.
I slip a hand between her thighs, feeling her heat.
As one of my fingers slides down, I feel the built-up moisture, and rub my fingertip across the silkiness.
Anja's hips continue swaying slightly side to side.
Glancing at her face, I see her eyes are closed, and in an instant her tongue slips out from her mouth and glides across her lower lip, causing me to groan. My finger slips inside her, and with every gasp she releases, my grin grows. Knowing the pleasure I'm bringing her satisfies me.
I move slowly at first, letting her adjust, watching her face for any sign of hesitation. There are none. Only trust and growing pleasure are mirrored in her face.
We find a rhythm that is both tender and intense, every stroke deliberate, every touch meaningful.
Her legs wrap around me, pulling me closer as the tension builds between us.
I whisper her name against her skin, telling her how beautiful she is, and how long I have wanted this without ever admitting it.
She answers with soft moans and the press of her nails against my shoulders, her body moving with mine in perfect sync.
Her hips press into my hand, allowing my finger to go deeper. She lowers one hand to guide my hand to where she'll get the most pleasure. As my hand and finger work in sync with her movements, I glance at her face. Her eyes are still closed, and I know she's feeling her arousal rising.
Removing my finger, I slid my body between her legs. Anja's eyes snapped open, and I saw her chest rising and falling with short, quick breathes.
“Please, Alexey,” she murmurs.
Not needing another word to press on, I took my erection in my hand and slowly began sliding into Anja's core. Her immediate gasp causes me to stop moving, but when her eyes open, and a smile evolves on her lips, I continue the venture until I'm deep inside her.
With every thrust, I slam into Naja, and she meets my fierce pushes with her own desire. Her hips grinding into me, as her hands cup my ass cheeks... pulling my hips harder and faster into her.
The pleasure crests slowly, powerfully. Anja comes first, her head falling back against the pillow, a quiet cry escaping her lips as she trembles beneath me. The sight of her, completely undone, trusting me with her vulnerability, pushes me over the edge moments later.
I bury my face in the curve of her neck, holding her close as waves of release wash through both of us.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, breathing slowly, but returning to normal. I roll to the side, pulling her against my chest so her head rests over my heart. Her fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin, brushing the scar along my jaw with the same gentle curiosity she's shown weeks ago.
Neither of us speaks for a long time. The rain continues to tap softly against the windows, a gentle backdrop to the quiet intimacy that has finally replaced the careful distance we maintained for so long.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, my arm tightening around her waist.
“You’re safe,” I murmur against her hair. “Not just from Fadir. From everything.”
“I know.” She nestles closer, her voice soft and a little shaky with emotion
In that moment, I admit fully what I have been fighting for months. This is no longer about revenge or strategy. Anja Kuzmin has become the center of everything. The woman I want, the woman I will protect with my life.
The slow dismantling of Fadir continues outside these walls.
But inside them, something far more important has just begun.