Ava
I wake to the smell of coffee and the feel of expensive sheets against my naked skin.
For one blissful moment, I forget where I am. Forget everything that's happened. Then I shift, and my body reminds me with a thousand small aches and tingles exactly what I did last night.
What we did.
Heat floods my face as memories crash over me. Renat's hands on my body. His mouth between my thighs. His voice in my ear, telling me dark, possessive things that should have terrified me but instead made me burn.
His hand on my stomach, talking about breeding me like it was inevitable. Like I belonged to him so completely that even my body wasn't my own anymore.
I press my thighs together and feel the evidence of him still inside me, and my body responds with a fresh wave of need.
God, what's wrong with me?
"You're awake."
I turn my head to find Renat standing in the doorway, fully dressed in dark slacks and a crisp black shirt. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine in that polished, powerful, and completely in control way.
Nothing like the man who fell apart inside me last night.
"What time is it?" My voice comes out rough from sleep…and screaming.
"Nine." He crosses to the bed and sets a coffee cup on the nightstand. "I let you sleep as long as possible, but we need to leave in an hour."
Right. The meeting. The plan. The whole reason why I’m here.
The reminder of reality crashes down on me, smothering the lingering heat. I pull the sheet up to cover myself, suddenly aware of how exposed I am.
Renat's eyes track the movement, something dark flickering across his face.
"Don't," he says quietly. "Don't hide from me. Not after last night."
"Last night was..." I don't know how to finish that sentence. Insane? Perfect? The biggest mistake of my life?
"Inevitable." He sits on the edge of the bed, his hand finding my hip through the sheet. "And it changes nothing about today."
"What happens today?"
"We meet with my brother, Adrik. He'll want to know why I've kept you, why I'm not following protocol." His thumb strokes lazy circles on my hip. "He'll try to convince me you're a liability. That I should turn you over to the family for safekeeping. That the original plan still stands."
Fear spikes through me. "Does it?"
"Yes. And No." The words are flat, absolute. "You're mine. But we still need to get to your father."
There's that word again. Mine. I wait for it to make me feel trapped. Instead, it makes me feel safe in a twisted way I don't want to examine too closely.
"What do I need to do?" I ask.
"Stay close to me. Don't speak unless spoken to. Let me handle my brother." He stands, pulling the sheet away from my body before I can protest. "But first, shower. You smell like sex and me, and while I love it, Adrik doesn't need to know how thoroughly I fucked you last night."
I grab for the sheet, but he's already walking toward the bathroom, taking it with him.
"Renat!"
He glances back, and the heat in his eyes makes my breath catch. "Come, milaya. I'll help you wash."
"I can shower by myself."
"I know." He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the water start. "But I want to touch you. And you want me to touch you. So stop arguing and get in here."
There’s no point arguing because my traitorous body is already moving, following him like I'm drawn by invisible strings.
The bathroom is full of steam when I enter. Renat is already naked, standing under the spray, water running down his sculpted body.
He's beautiful. Scars mar his skin, evidence of a violent life, but they only make him more compelling. More real.
"In," he orders, holding out his hand.
I take it and step into the shower with him. The hot water feels amazing on my sore muscles, but not as amazing as his hands as they start to soap my body.
He's thorough. Methodical. Washing every inch of me like it's a sacred ritual. When his fingers slide between my thighs, I gasp.
"Sore?" he asks, his voice rough.
"A little."
"You’re swollen, too." He doesn't apologize, just carefully cleans the evidence of last night from my body. "I like knowing you'll feel me all day. That every time you sit or move, you'll remember what I did to you."
I briefly think to object, or argue, but when his fingers brush over my clit, all that comes out is a moan.
"No time," he murmurs, though his fingers keep moving. "But tonight, I'm going to take you again. Slower this time. Make you beg for it like your life depends on it."
"Please…" I peel off, not knowing if I’m pleading for him to stop or to carry on.
"Say you want it." His thumb circles my clit while his other hand grips my hip, holding me steady. "Say you want me to fuck you again tonight."
"I want it," I gasp. "God, I want it."
He drops to his knees, and lifts my left leg over his shoulder. “You’re so swollen from me, milaya.” He sucks one puffy lip into his mouth and I shudder with anticipation. Then he swipes his tongue through my slit, over my entrance and up to my clit and stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Good girl,” he says when I thread my hands through his wet hair and pull him closer to me. The praise snakes through my veins, heightening the heat, the want, the need.
“Don’t stop…” the words come out as a desperate pant as he sucks and licks his way around my pussy.
Everything more sensitive after last night.
He keeps one hand on my hip, holding me in place as my hips begin to desperately grind, and slides the other up to cup my breast and tease my pebbled nipple. “Renat…”
He tugs my nipple at the same time as he sucks my clit, and I come apart right there in the shower, my legs shaking so badly he has to hold me up.
When the aftershocks finally fade, he finishes washing me efficiently, then hands me a towel.
"Get dressed," he says. "Something simple. You're not trying to impress anyone."
I nod, still too shaky to argue, and pad back into the bedroom. My duffel is where I left it, and I dig through for something smarter than jeans and a baggy T-shirt. Only my go bag wasn’t packed with meetings in mind.
The best I have is the pair of black jeans I changed into briefly last night and a simple blue sweater. Nothing fancy, but clean and presentable.
When I emerge from the bedroom fully dressed, Renat is waiting by the door, his expression unreadable.
"Here." He holds out a small phone. "It's secure. You can call your mother. You have five minutes, but you’ll be able to have more contact soon.”
My hands shake as I take it. "What do I tell her?"
"The truth. That you're safe. That you're with me. That she shouldn't worry." He pauses. "And that if she's contacted by anyone, FBI, police, your father, she should call this number immediately."
I nod and dial Mom's number with trembling fingers. She answers on the first ring.
"Hello?"
"Mom, it's me."
"Ava!" Her voice cracks. "Oh God, baby, are you okay? The FBI said you were taken, they said—"
"I'm fine, Mom. I promise. I'm safe."
"Where are you? Who has you? Your father—"
"Dad did something bad, Mom." I keep my voice steady even though guilt threatens to choke me. "Really bad. And now I'm... I'm being protected by someone who can keep me safe."
"Protected?" She sounds confused. "What does that mean?"
I glance at Renat, who's watching me with those dark eyes. "It means I'm okay. But I can't come home right now. And you need to be careful. Don't talk to anyone about Dad or me. Don't trust anyone. Just... just take care of yourself and Brit."
"Ava, you're scaring me."
"I know. I'm sorry." Tears burn my eyes. "But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
A long pause. Then: "Are you really safe?"
I look at Renat again. At the man who kidnapped me. Who shot federal agents. Who made me scream his name while promising to put a baby inside me.
"Yes," I say, and mean it. "I'm really safe."
"Okay." Mom's voice is shaky but accepting. "Okay, baby. I love you."
"I love you too." I have to force the next words out. "Don’t let Brit out of your sight. I'll see you both soon. I love you."
I hang up before I break down completely.
Renat takes the phone from my hand and pulls me against his chest. "You did well."
"I lied to her."
"You told her what she needed to hear." His hand strokes my hair. "And you weren't lying about being safe. I will keep you safe, Ava. No matter what."
I want to believe him. To trust that this isn't just about leverage or revenge or whatever twisted game the Bratva plays.
But I can't ignore the fact that we're about to walk into a meeting where his brother will see me as exactly that, a tool to be used.
"I'm scared," I whisper against his chest.
"I know." He tilts my face up to his. "But I won't let anyone hurt you. And I won’t let anyone take you. You're mine, remember?"
"How could I forget?" The words come out more bitter than I intend. "You made sure of that last night."
Something flashes in his eyes. "Is that regret?"
Is it? I suppose it should be. But when I search my feelings, all I find is confusion and desire and a strange sense of rightness.
"No," I admit. "Not regret. Just... fear. Of what comes next."
"Good." He presses a hard kiss to my forehead. "Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you alive. Just stay close to me, and everything will be fine."
He makes it sound so simple. Like his brother won't see right through this, won't realize that Renat has gone completely off-script.
But as we head down from the suite into the belly of the hotel, and Renat's hand stays possessively on my lower back, I realize something; I don't want to go back to my old life.
Don't want to be alone and afraid, working dead-end jobs and dreaming of a future that might never come.
Living in fear because my father is a loose cannon of the worst kind.
What was he even doing getting wrapped up in this world?
The elevator glides silently until it stops with a ping and the doors slide open revealing a floor of what looks to be offices.
"Stay with me," Renat says as he steps into the open space and leads me past the reception and down a wide corridor. "Don't look at anyone. Don't speak to anyone. Just stay with me."
I nod and take his offered hand, letting him pull me close as we walk toward the far end.
The men at the door nod at Renat but their eyes linger on me, assessing, calculating. I press closer to Renat's side, and his arm comes around my waist.
"She's mine," he says quietly, but there's steel in his voice. "Spread the word."
They nod again, and then we're through the door.
We step into a large room that screams power and money. Everything is polished marble and dark wood, expensive art on the walls. Crystal glasses line a bar in the far corner, sparkling in the light from the wall of windows.
“Brother,” Renat says, sounding bored. I frown up at him, then turn to the man behind the desk who looks less than impressed.
“Renat,” he responds before turning to me.