7. Emil
EMIL
She’s just asking to be tied to my bedframe again.
She’s always finding ways to challenge my authority, whether she’s running away or touching her pussy when I tell her no.
“Where the fuck has she gone?” says Luka over the phone as I speed through the dark forest, my headlights paving the way.
“Take a wild guess?”
“That car knocked her back a few years, all the way to her starting point.”
“It might have started with her running away from me, but I know the ending.”
Luka goes silent on the other side of the phone before finally sighing, saying his piece. “You think she’ll actually fall back in love with you?”
“It will only be a matter of time.”
“But is it love to kidnap someone?”
“You know I have my reasons,” I grumble down the phone. “With Alexander Kuzmin still kicking around these ends, I have to keep her safe. Fia is very vulnerable.”
“True, but you don’t want to upset her.”
“She’ll come around eventually,” I say down the phone. “She always does.”
“Let’s hope so, otherwise we’ll have a much bigger problem on our hands.”
I frown at Luka’s comment. “What are you talking about?”
“The more time you spend chasing after a woman, worried about her safety, the less focus you’re giving to the Bratva. Do I need to remind you that you’re the one in charge?”
“No,” I grumble. “No need to remind me.”
“You have a lot on your plate, I understand. But it’s okay to ask for help.”
“Focus on the docks and leave Fia to me,” I say, ending the call in a huff.
I throw my phone on the passenger seat, winding through the forest with my foot all the way to the floor.
I make it to the city shortly after nightfall, arriving just in time for the storm. The sky flashes white, a loud thud booming through the atmosphere a few seconds later, followed by a vigorous downpour.
I flick on my window wipers, heading downtown. Fia is too predictable for her own good. Her moves are obvious, always making it easy for me to stalk her.
People act carelessly when they’re panicked, too focused on getting from A to B, never thinking twice about how they got there, and who could be tracing their activity.
I saw a transaction for one thousand dollars come through in my accounts earlier. My bank is connected to Fia’s for that reason. She’s still unaware I linked them.
I come to a stop outside of the hotel, slapping a hundred in the valet’s hand, letting him take care of my car.
I stride into the lobby, receiving a few pleasant looks from the group of women lounging in reception. I ignore all their efforts to get my attention, heading straight to reception.
“Hey, Emil.” The woman behind the desk flashes me a smile. Her name is Claudia. Fia is the reason we know each other on a first name basis. “She’s on floor thirty-eight, room fifteen.” She scribbles the number down on a card, sliding it across the desk.
“Thanks,” I say, tucking it under my suit jacket.
“How many times is this now?”
“Five, if I remember correctly.”
Claudia’s gaze deepens. “Her schizophrenia is getting worse, huh?”
I roll with the punches, since that was the first thing that came to mind when Claudia asked. “It’s a slippery slope. Just when things are looking up, life throws a curveball.”
“The story of every single person who has ever lived.”
“Hm,” I grumble.
People like me are exempt from the trials and tribulations of life. I lead a Bratva to cheat my way out of life. Unfortunately, being in love with Fia drags me right back down to planet earth with everyone else.
“Thanks,” I say, holding the card up, bidding the receptionist goodbye.
The concierge joins me in the elevator, clicking the button. I feel his eyes scolding my temple as we wait for the elevator to arrive.
I turn to him, frowning, noting his rigid brow.
“I know you.”
“A lot of people do.”
“I’ve seen you before.”
“That’s usually how it goes when you know someone.”
The concierge, unlike his oblivious co-workers, isn’t buying the bullshit.
“You’re here for that woman again.”
“She’s my wife,” I say, keeping my beady eye on him as the elevator dings.
“Wives who run away from their husbands normally have a reason.”
“Schizophrenia is the reason,” I grit, walking into the elevator.
The man follows, standing beside me. I watch him in my peripheral, curling my hand into a fist, the knuckles popping.
One more fucking word and I’ll break his jaw.
He turns and faces me as soon as the doors slide closed, the lift jerking upward.
I sigh, returning his gaze. This is the last fucking thing I need right now.
After staring at me for another beat, he removes something from his suit. “I’m calling security.”
My fist meets his face soon after.
I knock him into the elevator wall. When the elevator arrives, I grab him by the collar, yanking him out.
I find Fia’s hotel room, swipe the key and throw him into the room. Steam curls underneath the closed bathroom door. I exhale a breath of relief, glad that Fia is in the shower and doesn’t have to witness this.
The concierge crawls his hands up the wall, stabilizing himself. I knock him down again, steal his radio and smash it to pieces under my shoe.
“You’re a fucking—” I press my hand to his mouth, silencing him.
“Psycho? Yeah, I’ve been told.”
I knee him in the stomach. Once I have him laid on his back, I slip the knife from my pocket and stab him in the chest, blood spilling everywhere. After a few muted coughs and splutters, he dies quietly.
I stand over him, making a call to Luka.
“Don’t tell me you let her go again?”
“Get your ass over here now, room fifteen, floor thirty-eight. Bring stain remover and antiseptic. I need you to clean up the dead body.”
“What the fuck, Emil?”
“Do it quickly. Tell Claudia at reception you’re visiting me. She’ll take care of the rest. And make sure the concierge who takes you up remains in the elevator.”
“Okay, I’m leaving now.”
I end the call just as the shower faucet stops running. I’m tucking my phone back into my pocket when the bathroom door clicks open.
Fia takes one look at the bloody knife in my hand, the dead concierge, and screams.
I race over, covering her mouth. She struggles against me, terror filling her eyes.
She’s fucking naked, her huge breasts bouncing in time to her staggered breathing. I look down at her freshly shaved pussy, my cock stirring in my pants.
“When I take my hand away, you’re not going to scream.”
Her eyes are dripping with fear, instantly killing my libido. She looks at me like I’m a murderer. My chest aches, missing the times she used to see me in a different light.
Staring deep into her eyes, I slowly remove my hand.
Fia gasps, catching her breath, tears streaking across her face. “Get the fuck away from me,” she mutters, staggering back, folding her arms across her chest, covering her breasts.
“I’ve seen you naked before. No need to hide.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
A question she’s asked me a dozen times before.
“How did you even find me?”
“Because this is where you always come when you run away.”
She searches the ground, apparently more concerned about the amnesia than the dead body. “When?” she repeats. “How many times have I been here?”
“It’s beside the point.”
“You’re a murderer,” she mutters to herself, taking more steps back, getting dangerously close to the door.
I reach over, clicking the lock shut.
“Why…?” she gasps, her eyes turning vacant as she wracks her brain, trying to recover memories that are thankfully still lost on her.
“Why would… you… kill?”
“He knew too much.”
“About?”
“You coming here, me dragging you out. Things are tense at the moment. The last thing I need is a concierge reporting me to the police for abusing his wife when I would never do such a thing.”
Fia blinks at me, wrapping her arms across her chest. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking another step back. “I met my friend. She told me that I’ve been acting strange, ever since I met you. She told me to stay away.”
“You being here in the city alone will get you killed.”
Fia scoffs, her breasts jerking.
I clench my jaw, my cock growing harder. She’s an impossible woman. Everything about her turns me on, her baby bump a reminder that I’m still living inside of her, even when she hates me.
“Put some clothes on,” I say, grinding my jaw.
“I was trying to find the towels.”
“They’re in the bathroom cabinet,” I say, raking a hand through my hair.
Her leaving the bathroom naked is new. Normally, I’m breaking into her hotel room when she’s tossing and turning in bed, trying to get to sleep.
The third time, we ended up fucking. Her screams echo through my ear canals now. “Go harder, Emil, I’m so fucking close.”
Those times seem like a fever dream, like I was living in another lifetime.
Fear expands across Fia’s face as she looks at the dead concierge. Admittingly, it’s not a good look. His eyes are wide open, blood spilling across the floor.
“Put some clothes on so we can get out of here.”
“And you think murder makes me wanna go back with you?”
I slide my hands into my pockets, stepping closer.
“Unfortunately, you don’t get a choice.” How can I give her one when she’s always putting herself in danger?
I look deep into her steel gray eyes, feeling a painful scratching under my ribs.
“My enemies will find you and kill you. Perhaps even do worse. This is the only way I can protect you.”
“By kidnapping me?”
I look into her eyes for another beat, waiting for the pain to subside so I can think logically and get us out of here in one piece. Luka should be here shortly.
I skim her lower back, lifting her into the bathroom since she’s incapable of doing what I tell her to do.
“My clothes are soaking wet.”
“Fine,” I say, unbuttoning my shirt.
“What… are you doing? Stop.”
“Relax. I’m just giving you my shirt.” I finish unbuttoning it, placing it in her shaking hand.
Her eyes trail across the planes of my chest. She parts her lips, gasping, swallowing the lump in her throat. All the usual symptoms come to surface when she’s looking at me topless for the first time.
She never changes, her cheeks always turning crimson red.
“Put the shirt on,” I command. “Let’s go.”
“N-no. I can’t,” she stutters, still naked. Her breasts jerk each time she takes a sharp inhale, which is now all the time, since I’ve removed my shirt.
The gray recedes from her eyes, replaced by dark shadows. Her eyes are dilated, full of lust and hatred. She’s deciding which one to feel. Her attraction for me always takes precedence over everything else. Her lust is the only hope I have that things will go back to the way they were.
But murdering a guy in a hotel room is a major setback for me, and now I’m painting myself out to be even more of a villain as I kidnap her, taking her back out into the woods.
“Fine. You want to be like that?” I rip my shirt from her hands, throwing it around her shoulders, dressing her myself. My finger accidently brushes her hard nipple, a moan slipping from her mouth.
Fia immediately catches herself, playing off her attraction by clearing her throat.
“No need to pretend to be something you’re not, sweetheart. We both know you want to fuck me.”
“After you just murdered a guy? How the hell are you gonna?—?”
The front door of the hotel room bursts open.
I finish dressing Fia, the shirt buttons flexing over her swollen belly. “Luka? Is that you?”
“You better have a fucking good explanation at the ready.”
“Focus on the job at hand and I’ll fill you in,” I shout, hearing the sound of the rustling garbage bag. He better have brought a few. The concierge out there has a lot of meat on the bone, which will need mincing before we can throw it in the trash.
My shirt comes down to Fia’s thighs. We should be good to go.
“Where are your panties?”
“Soaked, like the rest of my clothes.”
“Put them on.”
“But they’re wet.”
“I’m sure. You can take them off when we’re in my car. Until then, I need you to be a good girl for me and cover up.”
“I’m not your good girl. I’m not your fucking anything. How did you even get in here?”
“A story for another day,” I tell her, opening the bathroom door. “Keep looking forward. Don’t look back.”
I guide her out, steering her toward the front door as Luka goes heavy on the antiseptic and carpet cleaner.
“Put him through the garbage shoot when you’ve cut him up enough. I’ll see you back at mine.”
Luka nods as I close the hotel door behind us, guiding Fia through the corridors, toward the elevators.
“How much do you pay him to clean up after your mess?”
“Enough,” I grumble, forcing her into the elevator. As soon as the doors slide closed, I look her square in the eye. “Listen to me very carefully, spitfire. If you cause a scene, you will be punished.”
Fia’s eyes shift, a little gasp escaping her lips. Thick black shadows cross her face. She looks entranced, like my words are transporting her back somewhere.
“Don’t make this worse for yourself,” I warn her, staring into her hazy eyes. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Yes,” she mutters, turning away, looking vacantly at the doors as we ride down to the lobby.
“Good girl.”
We cross the lobby, Claudia giving me a sympathetic look I walk Fia out of the hotel.
The rain is still heavy, lightning turning everything white for a second. A harsh rumbling follows, its loud boom reverberating through the city. I shield Fia from the wind and rain, popping the passenger door of my car for her before sitting in the driver’s side.
I start the engine and make my way back into the road. Thank fuck my clothes came out clean after I murdered the guy, otherwise I’d have even more food on my plate. I can barely stomach Fia and the amnesia.
The last fucking thing I want to do is stalk and kidnap her.
Fia kept the resentment close to her chest for years.
She only properly forgave me six months ago.
But I have no other choice. Her safety comes first above her feelings, and mine, because if the Kuzmins get their hands on her a second time, they will kill her.