Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
ALEKSANDER
V iktoriya is silent next to me on the drive home, which is unusual for her. She’s normally snapping my head off. I’m not sure I like this silent Viktoriya. When I set my sights on her, it was because she presented a challenge. I don’t want her to be silent. I like the fire within her.
“Why did you leave?” I ask.
“I just had to,” is her response.
“I noticed you were at a dance studio.” I deliberately don’t ask a question about it.
“I’m a failure, Alek. Are you happy? I’m broken.”
My hands squeeze the steering wheel. “Is this about dance?”
“It’s always about dance.”
It’s clear to me I need to make Viktoriya feel better. She’s drawing herself thin in her desperate attempt to dance again. I saw the shame on her face when she performed for our guests. She needs to learn she can just be herself with me. Vulnerable and all.
But first, I need to punish her for leaving.
At the last minute, I turn the car away from the direction of our house and head to the club. It’s still early morning, so there won’t be as many people there, which I think will be good. What I want to do to Viktoriya is between us and not for an audience.
“Why are we here?” she asks once I park outside the BDSM club.
“Because it has what I need. Follow me.” I get out and don’t look back. I know Viktoriya will come. Despite the fight in her, she always ends up doing what I want in the end.
The club is guarded, but I flash my ID, and the guard lets me inside. The club is quiet and empty. It’s almost eerie.
I lead Viktoriya to one of the private rooms. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”
She stares at me for a moment before doing as I said. The sight of her naked body is glorious. It never fails to make me hard.
Slowly, she lies down on her stomach, her ass to me. I palm it, making her hiss. “I’m going to push your body, Viktoriya. This is for your own good. No more hiding from me.”
I walk over to the wall and grab a cane. It’ll be much harsher than a paddle or my hand. I’ve never pushed Viktoriya like this before, but today has shown me she needs it. There’s a fear in her eyes I need to help remove.
I tap the cane against her ass. “You will lie there, and I will punish you. Once we’re done, you’ll be forgiven for leaving, and you will open up to me, Viktoriya. No more holding back.”
“What if I can’t open up?”
“That’s not an option.” Then I smack the cane against her ass. She cries, scrambling against the mattress to get away. I grab her hips and pull her back into position.
“Stay still,” I growl. I bring the cane down again, leaving a red welt on her skin. She screams like I’m murdering her. Good. She needs to let everything out.
I smack the cane against her ass in quick succession, one after the other. She screams and bucks her hips, trying to get away, but I don’t let her. Viktoriya has been keeping things in for far too long. I won’t allow her to keep her feelings for me a moment longer.
“Do you trust me?” I ask. Thwack .
She winces. “Alek, I?—”
“Don’t think. Just answer.” Thwack . “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know how!” she shouts.
“Do you trust me?” Thwack.
“Alek, please!”
“Do.” Thwack . “You.” Thwack . “Trust.” Thwack . “Me?” I bring the cane down hard against her.
“I want to!” she sobs.
I set the cane down. “Then why can’t you, Viktoriya? What’s holding you back?”
“It’s all too much. Everything is too much.”
I grab her ass, making her wince, then knead her skin. “Focus on me. What’s too much?”
“I want to dance, but I’m no longer good enough.”
“What else?” I squeeze her ass harder.
She shuts her eyes, even as a few tears slip through and fall down her face. “I think I have feelings for you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Why?” I ignore the slight jolt that goes through me at her words. Now is not about me. It’s about her.
“Because I’ve never let anybody in before. But you’re trying to break down my walls, and I want you to do that, but I’m also scared because I don’t know who I am without my walls. I’m supposed to be perfect. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
I let her ass go and place my hand on her back. She lets out a long, shaking breath. “Why do you think you could disappoint me?”
“Everyone hates me. Men hate me for my ego. My sisters tolerate me. Even my mom and dad didn’t like me. I was never good enough for my father, and my mother preferred the company of Sofiya over me. I’ve never been good enough. Dance was the one area I was the best in, and now that’s been taken from me.”
I could comfort her. Tell her she’s perfect in my eyes. But it would be a lie. Viktoriya is messy despite pretending she isn’t. She can be a real bitch sometimes.
But I have a soft spot for her. I always have. It’s because I know I’ve fallen in love with her.
I lean down and kiss the back of her neck. “Thank you for opening up to me. That was all I needed.”
“Take this pain from me,” she whispers. “Please.”
Gladly.
“Roll onto your back,” I instruct.
She does, even though she winces as her backside touches the bed. I get undressed before her until I’m fully naked. I’ve never been truly naked before her. Maybe I’ve had my own walls up, too.
I open her legs and settle myself between them. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she cries out.
I grip her hips before thrusting into her. She sighs as her inner walls clench around my cock, and I stifle my groan. Being inside Viktoriya is the best fucking feeling in the entire world. As a boy born into poverty, I never thought I’d be in this position—in control of a woman such as Viktoriya.
But here I am. And it’s no longer about being in control. It’s no longer about her being a challenge. It’s about truth and honesty. And the truth is I love Viktoriya despite all her faults. She’s not an Ice Queen to me. She’s a woman in need of help, and I want to help her with every cell of my body.
I grind my hips against hers, sinking my cock in deeper. She moans and wraps her legs around my waist, drawing me in closer. She’s not a true submissive, but she’s learned to submit to me.
I thrust harder into her. “Fuck, Viktoriya,” I groan.
She gasps, reaching her hands up to grab my shoulders. With a tug, she brings my body on top of hers so our chests are touching. Our breath mingles together as we fuck. Our eyes never look away.
This is more than just fucking. This is something deeper. This is two people finally starting to let themselves trust.
I press my lips to hers, stifling the moan that escapes her lips, and kiss her deeply. Her hands grip my back shoulder blades, digging her nails into my skin. The jolt of pain makes me thrust harder.
“Alek,” she whispers against my lips. Never before have I heard Viktoriya sound so vulnerable. It makes my heart warm to her even more.
“Come for me,” I whisper back. “Come for me.”
She digs her heels into my thighs, bringing me closer. Her hips arch up to meet mine. “Tell me again.”
“Come for me, Viktoriya,” I say sternly.
And she falls over the edge. Her moan makes me increase my pace as my own orgasm reaches its head. She’s trembling in my arms as I come next.
I groan, burying my head into the crook of her neck. “Fuck.”
She’s panting as she draws circles into my back.
“How do you feel?” I ask, sitting up but not removing myself from her.
“I know how I feel now.”
“You do?”
“I know I can trust you.”
I look into her eyes and smile.
VIKTORIYA
I feel freer after letting myself be vulnerable with Aleksander. Getting rejected by Misha and not being able to dance professionally still stings, but not as much.
I’m lighter. I can breathe.
And I know what I need to do.
I walk into the café and see Mila and Sofiya seated at a table. One of Mikhail’s guards is with them, hovering nearby. I need to tell my sisters what I’ve been going through. It’s the only way I can start to heal. Aleksander can only do so much himself. I can't lie to the people in my life anymore. I need to be honest with them and myself.
“I’m glad you came,” I say, taking my seat.
“Why wouldn’t we come?” Mila asks. “I’ve missed you, Vik. We haven’t spoken in a while.”
Sofiya looks at me with that inquisitive gaze I hate so much. She can see into me. I think she’s always been able to. “What’s going on?”
I take in a deep breath. “I have an eating disorder.”
Mila gasps while Sofiya goes still. “Vik.” Mila grabs my hand. “Are you ok? How can we help?”
“You can’t help,” I say more harshly than I mean, and Mila draws away from me. Sighing, I grab her hand back. “I have to learn how to stop. Aleksander has been helping me with it.”
“When did it start?” Sofiya asks.
“Before I came to Russia. I was desperate to get skinny enough to dance, but I was only hurting myself. And in the end, it didn’t even matter because I don’t think I’ll ever professionally dance again.”
Mila’s face is an open book of empathy. “Why not?”
“Because I’ll never be good enough like I was before my ankle broke. I thought I could get there, but I’m learning … I can never do it again.” Saying the words out loud hurt, but they also offer me a catharsis. I don’t feel as burdened by it. “I mean, I can dance for fun, but I’ll never be a professional ballerina again.”
Sofiya’s eyes water as she takes my other hand in hers. “Oh, Vik. I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me, you never would’ve broken your ankle.”
“I know it was never your fault.” Her eyes widen in surprise. “It was just bad luck.”
“What was your eating disorder?” Mila asks tentatively.
“I would throw up. It felt good. A release. But Aleksander provides a different way. A different kind of release that helps my mind. I’m not as upset as I thought I would be to give up dance. I think I’m ready to let go. It’s been hurting me for too long.”
Sofiya squeezes my hand. “We’re here for you. Know that.”
“I do. Even when you annoy me,” I mutter.
They both laugh. Sofiya’s is soft and airy, while Mila’s is a little deeper, which is surprising for her petite frame.
“I’m just ready to be happy,” I continue. That was what I realized after my time with Aleksander at the club. I’m tired of fighting so hard for something that will only cause me pain.
“I just want you to be happy, too,” Sofiya says.
“How have things been going for you?” I nod toward her stomach. “Any luck?”
She places her hands over her stomach. “I’m not sure yet. It’s too early to tell, but I’m hoping I’ll get pregnant.”
“I hope so, too.” And I mean every word. I turn to Mila. “I should apologize.”
She frowns. “What for?”
“For making you dance when you didn’t want to.”
Mila’s shoulders slump and then she smiles. “Thank you. It was always your dream. Never mine.”
“Well, now, it’s none of our dreams because I can’t dance anymore.”
“We can still dance,” Sofiya says. “Together. Maybe we could put on a show for our husbands. Something simple. Casual.”
“I don’t have a husband,” Mila says, making us laugh.
Sofiya’s eyes soften. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” I say.
We share a smile around the table. For everything my sisters and I have been through, I’m amazed we’ve managed to remain so strong together. We may have our issues, but we always come back together in the end.
I wish I could stay in this moment forever.
But good things never last forever.
And when I see him walk into the café and up to our table, I feel every ounce of dread settle into my stomach.
Gleb smiles down at me. “How have you been, Viktoriya? Is married life treating you well?”
Every part of my body stiffens. “What are you doing here?” I ask, even though I can barely feel my lips moving.
Sofiya’s guard approaches our table. “You need to leave,” he tells Gleb.
“They’re going to want to hear what I have to say,” he responds. “And I wouldn’t call your boss. Not if you want to explain to him why his wife is dead.” He pulls back his jacket, revealing his gun.
“Let him talk,” I say.
“Vik,” Sofiya hisses.
“I’m not going to let any of us get killed.” I nod at the guard. “Let him talk.” The guard nods back but doesn’t move. I’m ok , I tell myself. Gleb can’t hurt me in a crowded café.
He sits down beside me, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. “Here’s the deal: I was supposed to get money from both of you.” He points at Mila and me. She sinks lower into her chair, and Sofiya wraps her arm around her shoulders. “But you”—he points at me— “killed the guy who bought you before I could get paid. And you”—he turns his eyes onto Mila— “were saved by your annoying sister and her husband before I could get paid. I expect to get my money. So, if you don’t want problems, then you’re going to need to pay me.”
“The moment I call my husband to give me the money,” I say, “he’ll come over here and kill you himself.”
“I figured as much. Which is why I got help.” Gleb looks out the window and nods. I frown, turning to see who he’s nodding at, when the windows explode. Glass shatters everywhere. I gasp as the explosion forces me from my seat, and I land on the ground, hard. Mila and Sofiya are also thrown to the ground beside me.
The other customers are in the same position. Sofiya’s guard tries to run to us, but Gleb shoots him in the head. A woman screams and runs out of the café.
I groan, pressing myself to a seat. My rib is still healing, and the force of the explosion didn’t fucking help.
Gleb stands over me. “You’re going to get me my money.”
“Fuck you,” I spit out. He pistol whips me on the head.
“Vik!” Mila screams.
All I can see is blackness for a moment before my vision clears.
“I don’t think you understood me,” Gleb says, crouching down beside me. “Your husband is going to pay me because I’m going to take you and your sisters as collateral. And I have a fun little twist.” He nods to the door as a man steps inside.
The man is young, probably in his thirties, with slicked-back hair and a nice suit.
“That’s Leo,” Gleb explains. “He’s the son of Akim—the man you killed.”
All the fight leaves my body as I sit in there, crippled by fear.
Gleb smiles savagely. “He wants revenge for the death of his father. He’s come to collect, just as I have. So, why don’t you girls come with me?”
I share a look with my sisters. The three of us know we’re in big trouble.
I tried to escape my past. I tried to move on from the trauma of the auction and what Akim tried to do to me.
But Gleb is right—everything has a price. The Bratva is a dark organization full of evil men. It was silly to think I was safe.
I’m frozen in fear as Gleb grabs my arms and hauls me to stand.
There’s no more fight left in me.