Renat
The penthouse suite is exactly as I left it this morning. Pristine. Sterile. A monument to money and power that means absolutely nothing.
I watch Ava walk through the doorway, her eyes going wide as she takes in the space. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Strip, Italian leather furniture, a kitchen with marble countertops that have never been used. The kind of wealth most people only see in magazines.
"This is where you live?" she asks.
"When I’m in the city, yes." I close the door behind us and set her duffel on the floor beside it. "I own properties all over, but my family own this hotel and it’s a useful base for… business."
"Business." She says it like it tastes bad in her mouth. "You mean Bratva business."
"Yes."
Her eye brows flicker as though she already knew the answer and is surprised I gave it anyway.
“I didn’t expect you to bring me to a place like this,” she murmurs as she walks to the windows, hugging herself as she stares out at the glittering chaos below.
From up here, Vegas looks almost beautiful.
Almost clean. You can't see the desperation, the addiction, the thousand small tragedies playing out in those neon-soaked streets.
“Where did you expect me to bring you?” I ask, although she is right. I was supposed to take her to a warehouse we own out of town.
She shrugs as she turns to me, and then frowns when she meets me eyes.
"How many people have you killed?" she asks quietly.
I could lie. I probably should lie. But something about her standing there, small and fragile against those massive windows, makes me want to give her the truth.
"I don't keep count anymore."
She flinches. Just a tiny movement, but I see it.
"Does it bother you?" I move closer, drawn to her like metal to a magnet. "Knowing what I am?"
"Yes." She doesn't move other than to tighten her arms around herself. "It terrifies me. But..."
"But?"
"But I'm not running." Her voice cracks on the words. "I’m not looking for a way out. Or a weapon. I'm standing here wondering if you're going to hurt me or..."
"Or what, Ava?"
The look in her eyes nearly breaks me. Fear and desire and confusion all tangled together. "Or if you meant what you said. About keeping me."
Christ. She's going to destroy me.
I close the distance between us in three strides, backing her against the window.
She gasps, her arms finally dropping so she can brace herself if she falls.
Instead, she comes up against the cool glass.
I can feel her breath on my throat, sweet and warm.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to touch her, to claim her, to make her understand that she belongs to me now.
But I force myself to stop. To just stand there, caging her in with my arms, giving her space to breathe while I eliminate any chance of escape.
"I never say things I don't mean," I tell her. "You're mine now. Not because of your father. Not because you're useful. You're mine because the moment I saw you, something inside me recognized something inside you."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"No," I agree. "It doesn't. But I've spent fifteen years being the Devil. The one who solves problems no one else can solve. I'm good at it because I feel nothing. No guilt. No remorse. No fear. And I’m very, very, patient."
My hand comes up to her face, cupping her jaw. Her skin is so soft it makes my chest ache.
"And then I watched you for three weeks," I continue. "Watched you fight every single day just to survive. Watched you refuse to give up even when you had every reason to. Watched you be brave and angry and afraid all at once. And I felt everything."
Tears spill down her cheeks, and I catch them with my thumb.
"I'm not a good man, Ava. I've done things that would make you sick. I've hurt people. Destroyed families. I am exactly what they call me. I’m the Devil. And if you're smart, you will be afraid of me."
"I am afraid of you," she whispers.
"Good." I lean in closer, until our faces are inches apart. "But you're more afraid of what happens if I let you go. Aren't you?"
She nods, just barely.
"Say it. Say you want me to keep you."
"I..." She closes her eyes. "I want you to keep me."
The words hit me like a gunshot. Victory and possession and something dangerously close to joy.
"Then you're mine," I murmur against her lips. "Mine to protect. Mine to keep safe. Mine to—"
My phone vibrates in my pocket, shattering the moment. I pull back with a curse, fishing it out to check the screen.
Adrik. My oldest brother. My boss.
Fuck.
"I need to take this," I tell Ava, already moving toward the bedroom. "Stay here. Make yourself comfortable.”
I don't wait for her response. Just stride into the master bedroom and close the door, hitting the answer button.
"Yes."
"Tell me you didn't just start a war with the FBI." Adrik's voice is cold, controlled. The voice of a man who's built an empire and has no patience for threats to it.
"Two agents tried to interfere with my retrieval of the target. I neutralized the threat."
"Neutralized." He lets out a harsh laugh. "You shot federal agents, Renat. In front of the girl. What the fuck were you thinking?"
I wasn't thinking. That's the problem. The moment those agents burst through that door, the moment they pointed their weapons at Ava, something primitive took over. Something that couldn't tolerate anyone threatening what was mine.
"They're alive," I say instead. "And they can't prove it was me."
"They don't need to prove it. They know it was us." A pause. "Where is she now?"
"Secure."
"That's not an answer."
"Here. My suite. No one knows except you."
"Bring her to my office.” His words are clipped in that way that tells me shit is going to hit the fan.
Everything in me recoils at the idea. The hotel is secure, yes. But I don’t want her anywhere but here. My brothers will look at Ava and see leverage. A tool. Something to be used and discarded. Which is what she was supposed to be all along.
Fuck.
"No."
Silence on the other end. Then: "No?"
"She stays with me. I can protect her better than—"
"This isn't about protection, Renat. This is about you going soft." Adrik’s voice drops, dangerous. "I gave you this assignment because I thought you could handle it. Was I wrong?"
"I have it under control."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've compromised the entire operation for a piece of ass."
My hand tightens on the phone hard enough that the case cracks. "Watch how you speak about her."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"Bring her to my office," Adrik says finally. "Tomorrow. We need to discuss next steps for drawing out the father. And Renat?"
"Yes."
"Whatever you think you feel for this girl? Kill it. Before it kills you."
He hangs up.
I stand there in the darkness, phone still pressed to my ear, and try to remember the last time I disobeyed a direct order from my brother.
Never. The answer is never.
But the thought of taking Ava to his office, of exposing her to his scrutiny, of sharing her with anyone...
It makes me want to burn down the world.
I pocket the phone and head back to the living room. Ava is right where I left her, standing by the window, but now she's holding something. My laptop, I realize. She must have found it on the coffee table.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
She looks up at me, and there's something calculating in her expression. Something that wasn't there before.
"Researching," she says calmly. "If I'm going to be kept by the Devil, I want to know exactly what that means. So I'm reading about the Korolyov family. Your family."
I wait for anger to rise in me, but it doesn’t. If she were anyone else, I’d have locked her in a room without access to anything… Yet here I am, finding myself impressed.
"And what have you learned?" I ask.
She turns the laptop around to show me. It's open to a news article. The headline reads: KOROLYOV brATVA SUSPECTED IN DISAPPEARANCE OF RIVAL SYNDICATE MEMBERS.
Then beneath, in small letters: Twelve women rescued from shipping container as trafficking ring eliminated.
"I've learned," she says softly, "that when people cross your family, they don't just die. They disappear. Like they never existed at all."
"Only the ones who deserve to," I mutter.
"And I've learned that you're not just a fixer. You're the fixer. The one they call when the problem needs to be erased completely." Her eyes meet mine. "Is that what you're going to do to my father?"
"That’s my intention."
"And after he's gone? After you don't need me as bait anymore?" Her voice is steady, but I can see her hands shaking. "Do I disappear too?"
I cross the room and take the laptop from her hands, setting it aside. Then I cup her face in both hands, forcing her to look at me.
"Listen to me very carefully, Ava. Your father dies. That's non-negotiable. He killed children. He deserves everything that's coming to him." My thumbs stroke her cheekbones. "But you? You're not disappearing. You're not leverage anymore. You're mine. And I protect what's mine."
"For how long?"
"Forever."
The word shocks me as much as it shocks her. Forever. I've never used that word before. Never even thought it. Forever implies a future, and I've never had a future. Just an endless present of blood and darkness.
"You can't mean that," she breathes.
"I told you. I never say things I don't mean." I lean down until our foreheads touch. "You're mine, Ava. For as long as I'm alive, you're mine. And anyone who tries to take you from me will learn exactly why they call me the Devil."
She's trembling now, and I realize she's crying again. Silent tears streaming down her face.
"I don't understand," she whispers. "I don't understand any of this."
"You don't have to understand. But you do have to trust me."
"Trust you? You kidnapped me. You shot people. You're going to kill my father."
"Yes." I brush my lips against her forehead.
"But I'll also protect you. Give you everything you need.
You want to finish school? I'll pay for it.
You want to become a dental hygienist? I'll make it happen.
You want your mother and sister safe? I'll put them under protection. All you have to do is be mine."
She pulls back to look at me, searching my face for something. I don't know what she's looking for, but more than that, I don't know what she'll find.
"What if I say no?" she asks.
"You won't." The words are almost a whisper thanks to the amount of effort I have to exert to refrain from kissing her.
"How do you know?"
I smile, and I know it's not a kind smile. Not a human smile. "Because you already said yes, milaya. The moment you got in my car. The moment you let me bring you here. You said yes to me, and now you're mine."
She opens her mouth to argue, and I silence her the only way I know how.
I kiss her.