40
F ucking her had to be the best therapy Roman had ever come across. It calmed his mind, relaxed his body and filled every neuron in his brain with enough endorphins and oxytocin to make him forget every trouble he'd ever had. At least for a little while.
“Mmm.” He let out a satisfied grunt, pushing back in after having pulled out of her almost completely. The sight of her round ass meeting his groin and the feel of his cock sinking deep into her slick warmth had him wrapped in a lustful daze.
Alessandra exhaled a soft sigh, her dark, sparkly nails gripping the white sheets.
She turned her head to look at him through heavy lids, and his hold on her hips tightened.
She looked so utterly beautiful kneeling before him, with her flushed skin and parted lips as she took every inch of his cock.
Roman's hand slid up her back, feeling the smooth skin as he went higher, until his fingers were tangled in her long hair.
With his other hand, he pushed down on the small of her back to make her ass arch up more.
Obediently, she let him do it, and the submissive act got his cock even harder than it already was.
“Fuck, like that,” he rasped, increasing his pace. He pulled on her hair to lift her head from the pillow—just hard enough to bring a small sting but also keep it pleasurable for her. When her parted lips formed a small “o” and her vaginal walls tightened around him, he knew he had her close.
No matter how many times he'd fucked her, he still couldn't get over how perfect she looked on the brink of an orgasm.
“Come on my cock,” he demanded on a hiss, slamming his hips to her ass. He wasn't going to last much longer.
The rough command made her skin break out in goosebumps. Reaching behind her, she dug her nails into his forearm as a violent tremor took over her body. “Roman,” she moaned, her walls strangling his length.
The moment she became vocal, he was done for. Letting go of her hair, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back to his front. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and with a few punishing thrusts, he reached his own climax.
Afterward, he took a shower and dressed for the day.
“You're leaving?”
Roman finished working on the buttons of his shirt and turned to face Alessandra. She stood just outside the walk-in closet, looking at him with disappointment in her eyes.
Pushing down the guilt strangling his gut, he walked over to her and kissed her temple. “I'll be back in a couple of hours.”
Her brows pulled into a slight frown. “Where are you going?”
She never asked him about his whereabouts, but today seemed to be different. He dragged his fingers through her hair and paused at her nape where he cupped the back of her head. “What's wrong? Why are you asking me this?”
“It's Saturday. I thought we could do something together.”
Roman stared at her, his mind going over his options. “I need to be atBeluga1for a meeting. You want to come along?”
She looked surprised that he was offering to take her. “Really?”
“You'll have to keep yourself entertained for about an hour, but maybe we can have lunch atTsarafter that.”
It was the least he could do after the week they'd had. It was also a good opportunity to test the men's reaction to her presence.
He tucked his shirt into his pants and told her, “Come on; get dressed.”
Alessandra didn't need to be told twice. Brushing past him, she grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a white sweater, making quick work of pulling them on.
As Roman held open the car’s passenger door for her, he realized that she’d even managed to put on light makeup in record time. Amusement filled him, though he kept any comments to himself.
“It's so good to see the sun again,” she said as he pulled into the light morning traffic. Vladik and Vladimir followed them in a separate car.
Roman's lips curved up marginally. After nearly two weeks of constant rain and wind, the slightly warmer weather was indeed a welcome change.
Placing his palm on her thigh, he gave her a light squeeze.
“I know I’ve neglected you lately. We'll do something for the holidays if everything is settled within the organization by then.”
She shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. “Don't worry about it; I know you have a lot on your plate right now.”
“I do,” he agreed. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to spend more time with you. How do you feel about Aspen?”
Her eyes lit up. “I love Aspen. I haven't been in years.”
Roman nodded. A trip would do both of them good, and if he officially becamePakhanby then, he could take the time off. Even if it meant leaving Stepan in charge of everything for a little while. “It's a plan then.”
When they reached the club’s parking lot, Roman noticed most of the men's cars were already there. He pulled Alessandra along as they made their way inside through the back door.
Before he could debate who to leave Alessandra with while he attended the meeting, Laney exited her office, looking casual in jeans and a red blouse. She usually didn’t start work until early afternoon on the weekends, but he wasn’t going to question her being there since it served him just fine.
“Morning,” she greeted, glancing from him to Alessandra curiously.
“Morning,” Roman said, nodding toward his wife. “She needs some company for a little while.”
“Yeah, no problem. I was actually on my way to get coffee from across the street.”
“Take Vladik or Vladimir with you,” he said, just as the two men in question entered the club behind them.
Alessandra looked like she wanted to argue, but ultimately decided to keep quiet.
Not having more time to linger, Roman left the girls and headed into his own office.
???
“I don't know, Roman,” Igor said from across the room, pale-blue eyes watching him with concern. “What proof do we have that Kasparov was behind the attack? Some of us heard something different.”
Roman tried not to let the accusation in the man's voice distract him from the purpose of the meeting. “What you heard is partially true. The car was stolen from Rossetti a few days before the attack.”
“Says who?” Nikolai interjected.
Roman's gaze darkened as it zeroed in on the man. “Says me and my sources.”
“I would never doubt your word, Roman,” Igor was quick to clarify. “But the Italians hate our guts—they always have. One can only assume that—”
Roman stopped him with a raised hand. “There’s strong evidence to indicate the Armenians were behind the stealing of our cargo a few months ago.
Anatoly’s uncle was murdered by them in an attempt to frame the Italians.
When our own brothers kidnapped my wife, they took her into Armenian territory, which means they were somehow involved.
Don't be mistaken, Igor. They are not our friends. Not anymore.”
“I get that, but still...”
“Still, what ?” Roman challenged, feeling his patience run thin .
The room quieted.
“How do we know about Anatoly’s uncle?” another Brigadier—Vova—asked after a moment.
“We found footage of Arsen Saroyan dragging the man down an alley the night of the murder. Anatoly already confirmed it was his uncle.” Roman nodded at Stepan. “Show them.”
Stepan procured his cell phone, playing the video Matteo had sent and passing it over to the man seated next to him. As each man in the room got to see the evidence of the Armenians’ involvement, Roman went on.
“Vitaly thought they could be trusted once another deal was struck. He thought he could profit from keeping both the Italians and the Armenians close. That was a mistake on his part. As we all know, Davit doesn’t play nice with others.
It’s usually either his way, or a bloodbath.
I don’t think he was too happy to let Vitaly dictate the conditions of the new deal, and it shows. ”
That was only true to some extent. Roman knew he couldn’t tell them about Vitaly’s real intention of crossing both sides without also putting the spotlight on himself, even though he had never agreed with his father’s plan.
“Don’t get me wrong, Roman, I have no brotherly love for the Armenians,” Vova spoke again. “But are we fucking sure they’re behind this?”
“Yes,” Roman said firmly. He also couldn’t tell them the only proof he had was Matteo Rossetti’s word, though he was going to get the evidence he needed soon enough.
“And we need to stop them before they can do more harm. The Italians will support us. I assure you our interests are mutual on that front. ”
Silence fell over the room as the men absorbed the information being delivered to them.
“Oleg would’ve never done this.”
Strike fucking one hundred.
With clouded thunder is his eyes, Roman moved his attention on Nikolai. “What did you just say to me?”
The man had the good sense to go as white as a paper sheet as he realized the situation he’d put himself in. All eyes turned to him.
Oleg, as absent as he’d been in the past week, still managed to turn men against Roman. Not that it should have been too hard to do with Nikolai. He’d always been resentful of everything that wasn't his, and especially the privileged position Roman had been bestowed with from birth.
“I, uh...” Nikolai swallowed thickly and tugged on the collar of his gray shirt.
“I said what everyone in this room is thinking. Just because you are married to that Italian girl, it doesn't mean you have to take their side. I don’t fucking buy it. I think they did it, and we’re making a mistake going after the Armenians. ”
It was the asshole's final offense. Roman had had it with him. He stood, moving with measured steps. Sensing the danger coming his way, Nikolai sat up a little straighter in his chair as panic bled into his dark eyes.
“Rom—”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence. Drawing his fist back, Roman punched him in the face so hard, he toppled over with the chair, landing on the floor with a deafening thud.
The back of the wooden chair splintered from the force of the fall.
He groaned loudly, and Roman had to hold himself back from smashing his face in with his shoe until he stopped breathing.
“You’re dismissed from your position as Brigadier, as it is clear you lack the discipline to mind your fucking mouth around me. Dimitri will take your place.”
Roman knew he didn’t exactly have the power to make that decision yet, but he was going to do it anyway. As long as Oleg didn’t show his face to challenge him directly, he planned to act as interim, and no one could say shit about it.
“Roman,” Nikolai said thickly, struggling to stand up. “ Fuck . I meant no disrespect.”
“Yes, you did. You have three seconds to leave this room before I remove you myself.”
Nikolai pushed to his feet, swaying with the movement. He hesitated, his gaze shifting from Roman to the other men in the room, and something close to hatred ignited in his gaze as he cradled his injured jaw.
Stepan stood from his chair and reached for his gun, aiming it straight at his head.
The other Brigadiers watched him apprehensively, though no one dared say a word. His reputation as one of Bratva’s most efficient killers preceded him, and with one simple gesture, he made it abundantly clear where his loyalty lay.
Seeing that no one intervened in his favor, Nikolai turned around and headed for the door with blood trickling from his mouth.
“Who else has something to say to me?” Roman challenged, going back to his seat.
Silence stretched across the room like a suffocating blanket of dread.
“Good. Now that we got that out of the way, we can discuss a course of action.” He snapped his fingers at Igor. “Go get Dimitri. I saw him outside when I got here.”
Igor shot to his feet immediately.
Roman's anger dripped into his stomach. He gritted his teeth as a jab of pain shot right through his upper abdomen. Taking in a slow breath, he forced himself to keep a straight face. One of these days, stress, vodka and too much smoking was going to give him an ulcer.
As he waited for Igor to fetch Dimitri, he reflected on his decisions. Whether his instinct was right or not, he couldn’t yet say. Trusting Matteo was a risky move. Stepan had pointed it out enough times already.
But his discussion with Matteo had also opened his eyes to a very important aspect. Nero Rossetti was absolutely terrified of Davit and his Clan. He would’ve never risked losing the ally he found in Vitaly's Bratva, regardless of his preferences for Roman at the head of the organization.
Everyone saw how Nero's fear of the Armenians and their brutal ways had brought him to the point of giving away his only daughter so she could be used as leverage against him.
Not that Roman had any intention of using Alessandra in any way, but Vitaly would have gladly jumped at the opportunity, if it ever arose.
Rossetti knew this fully well and still went on with the agreement.
No , Roman decided. The Italians wouldn't have shot Vitaly as they couldn’t afford the instability his sudden disappearance from the head of the organization brought.
He checked his watch and contemplated his next move.
As per his agreement with Matteo, he would call Nero Rossetti to deliver the news himself.
How that conversation was going to go depended on many things.
If the man had any sense of self-preservation—and Roman knew all too well that he did—he was going to agree to the plan.
They had to get rid of Davit before it was too late.