Chapter 19
SCORPION
My wife crosses her arms over her gorgeous tits and glares. “No.”
We’re back in the city, Katya’s first time at my place, and I’ve been walking her through some of the precautions I’ve set in motion now that she’s officially my wife and shit is likely to go down with the Bratva. Including giving her a new phone.
I knew she would give me shit about taking her old one, but it’s what I had to do.
After what happened with the drug deal and Cantarelli, I can’t afford to take the risk that Sidorov has secret tracking software installed in the background.
I don’t want him potentially knowing where she is, where I am, listening to our conversations, or tapping into my networks and stealing critical intel.
“Yes,” I counter firmly, pushing the phone across the kitchen island toward her. “It’s got everything you need, just on a clean device.”
She gets that stubborn look that makes my dick twitch every time, the one that usually means she’s going to threaten to chop off my balls with a rusty butter knife and feed them to pigs. “My photos.”
“Transferred.”
“My email.”
“Also there.”
She shakes her head. “All my apps, my socials.”
Her social media wasn’t super active before I kidnapped her—I checked and double-checked after I slipped it into my pocket this morning back at Priest and Luna’s. But I’ll allow her to access her social media accounts within reason.
“Your socials and apps are there too,” I explain.
Meanwhile, I’ve enabled location sharing so I can keep tabs on her. For her own safety. I don’t trust her bastard of a brother for a second, and I wouldn’t put it past him to use her against me as a pawn. But I keep that part to myself, because I don’t know how loyal she is to her brother just yet.
Loyal enough to go through with marrying me. And that gives me pause, even if we have next-level chemistry, as proven by last night and this morning’s fuckfest. I can’t think about that now or I’ll lose focus, and that’s the last thing I need.
“Why can’t I just keep my phone, then?” she asks, eyes narrowing.
“This is your phone. Your new phone.”
She picks up the latest iPhone and holds it up like it’s a dirty diaper she can’t wait to toss in the trash. “No, this is the phone you gave me and told me I have to use. You stole my phone, and I want it back.”
“Cara, I didn’t steal anything.”
She raises a brow, her expression unimpressed. “Then where’s my phone?”
“In a safe place.”
“Where?”
I move around the island, tired of this conversation, not stopping until I have her trapped, one arm on either side of her, palms flattened on the cold black granite. My arm still hurts like hell, but I keep my face an impenetrable mask as I meet her gaze.
“I’m not telling you where it is. This discussion is over. If there’s anything you need added to the phone, let me know.”
I can’t resist leaning into her, inhaling her scent. Cazzo, I need to watch myself with Katya. If I’m not careful, I’ll get addicted.
She purses those fuckable lips. “I don’t need anything added. I’m not using this phone.”
“Then don’t use it. If I need to reach you, I’ll call Antonio.”
Antonio is one of my most trusted men, which is why I’ve asked him to be Katya’s bodyguard.
“I don’t need a guard any more than I need this phone.”
I cock my head at her. “If you’d had a guard, do you think I would have been able to take you off the street so easily?”
I’ve got her there, and she knows it. Not that I wouldn’t have found another way to kidnap her. I was hell-bent on revenge, and I don’t fucking give up. I’d have stolen her out of her bed while she was sleeping if necessary. Admitting that doesn’t help my case, though.
“Good point,” she agrees, and I can hear the reluctance in her voice. “But since we’re married, I don’t exactly have to worry about you kidnapping me anymore, do I?”
“You’re my wife, and your brother is Pakhan. That puts a target on your back.” I cup her cheek with my left hand, letting her feel the gold band she slid on my finger against her skin. “Like I told you, you’re mine to protect, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Does this have something to do with whatever happened last night?”
I know she’s referring to Cantarelli and the shot that grazed me, but I’m done with that discussion too. The less she knows about my business, the better. I meant what I said.
“You mean when I sucked your clit until you came all over me?” I ask her, tracing her cheekbone with the pad of my thumb.
She’s got such a rare, refined beauty, so elegant. It’s hard to believe she shares blood with big, hulking bastards like Mikhail and Dmitri.
Katya bites her lip. “That’s not what I was referring to.”
“Which part, then? The part where you begged me to give you my come?”
Her breath has a little hitch. “Enzo.”
I like it when she calls me that. I like the way she feels against me, the way she smells, the way she tastes. Goddamn. I like everything about her.
I can’t resist leaning in and kissing her, just a quick peck and not nearly enough, but it’ll have to do.
“Get settled in, cara. I have to get to work.”
“Work? But we just got married. Shouldn’t you have some time off?”
She’s worrying her lower lip again. My dick twitches.
“Going to miss me, wife?”
Her brows snap together. “Not at all.”
“That’s your pride talking, not your pussy.
” I trail my fingers down her throat and then lower, over the tempting swell of her breast, her hard nipple, and then down her flat belly to the waistband of the yoga pants she’s wearing.
I glide my hand inside to prove my point.
She’s already wet. “Your pussy is going to miss me.”
I rub her clit as she stirs against me, issuing a huffy sound that only makes me want to fuck her even more. “Laws of science. You can think someone is a complete asshole and still find them hot.”
I play with her clit again. “You find me hot? I’m flattered, cara mia.”
“Don’t be. Did you miss the rest of what I just said?”
“Eh, I think I’ll ignore it.” I kiss her, flicking slowly over her until her hips jump and she makes a small, needy sound deep in her throat. “Be a good little wife today.”
Then I slide my hand from her yoga pants and bring one of my fingers to my mouth, sucking it clean. “So fucking sweet.” I hold out my forefinger to her, offering it. “Taste.”
She parts her lips, and I sink my finger inside her mouth. When she sucks, it’s my turn to groan.
“Sei perfetta.” It takes all the willpower I have to pull my finger free and move away from her.
“You know the rules. If you need to go anywhere, tell Antonio. He’s got a credit card with your name on it if anything comes up.
Otherwise, move your things as you like them.
Make yourself at home, because this is your home now. ”
Her pupils are still dilated as she licks her lips. “I don’t like rules, Andriani.”
“Then you had better learn to, cara. Because I won’t bend when it comes to keeping you safe.”
With that, I head out of my apartment, leaving her to do whatever it is she’s going to do with the rest of her day.
Yoga, judging by that outfit she’s got on.
Fucking with my shit to piss me off is a possibility.
Good thing I have cameras installed throughout the apartment, all the better to keep an eye on her.
My blood is still hot, my dick half hard by the time I get off the elevator and into the underground parking, where my driver, Federico, is waiting for me.
The ride to my office is slow, filled with traffic, and I’m going out of my mind in the back seat, trying to stay focused on everything I’ve found out so far instead of thinking about the lingering taste of Katya’s pussy in my mouth.
I’m in a bad mood by the time I clear security and slam into my office at the underground gambling club. Mostly because I need to get my rocks off, and I can’t. But also because I don’t like the hold my new wife already has over me. It’s as if her pussy cast a spell.
To make things worse, Priest, Lucky, and Saint are already waiting for me, making themselves at home.
Lucky is sitting in my chair, his Italian loafers propped on my desk, legs crossed at the ankles.
Saint is sucking back a bottle of my chilled San Pellegrino, and Priest is pacing the room, checking out the dent I put in the wall when I threw the crystal ashtray.
“You’re late,” Priest announces. “What the fuck happened to the wall?”
“Lucky happened to it.” I shut the door behind me. “Hello to you all too. It’s not like I was busy getting the wife you forced me into taking settled in at my place or anything.”
Priest shoots me a quelling look. “You know why you had to marry her.”
Yeah, I do. But that’s not the point.
“That dent’s not from me,” Lucky denies from my chair. “That’s all you, fratello.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter.
“Jesus, would you all stop fighting like a bunch of teenage girls?” Saint grouses. “We have work to do.”
I pin a glare on him. “I hope you’re enjoying my icy-cold, refreshing beverages.”
He grins unrepentantly and raises his bottle in my direction. “As it happens, I am.”
“Let’s get down to business,” Priest says, changing the subject, slipping back into don mode. “What do you have for me on Dmitri Sidorov?”
I’ve put a lot of work into tracing his moves from the wedding through to this morning. I’ve pulled security cameras and scraped together as good a picture as I’m going to get.
“There’s a ten-minute period of time at the reception where Dmitri is unaccounted for,” I report. “There weren’t cameras on the bathrooms, but that was plenty of time for him to slip into one, give the orders for what went down at the deal, and then rejoin the party.”
“And Cantarelli’s phone records?” Saint prods, leaning forward in his seat.
“They’re clean. I don’t think they were wiped, which means he was using a burner. His wife might know more about that if we can get her to talk to us again.”
“She’ll talk,” Lucky says. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“How do you know?” I ask him.
He just smirks. “I have my ways.”