Chapter 9 Natalya
NATALYA
“Where the hell were you?”
I glance over my shoulder and see my father standing by the back door. It’s almost dawn and I didn’t see any reason to come in through the front door on the off chance I might run into him. It’s been such a wonderful night, the last thing I wanted was for him to ruin it.
Too late for that, though. I stop as he comes stalking up to me, his eyes darting over my body. Every second he stares at my clothing is like he’s adding years to a prison sentence. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
Standing in front of my father, his face getting red all the way up to the top of his bald head… twenty-four hours ago, I might’ve cringed with fear. Somehow, that’s not happening this time.
“I went out,” I say.
“Out? Out?”
“Yeah. With friends. I had a few drinks and now I’m home.”
He blinks with disbelief. “Do you have any idea what time it is? The fucking sun is coming up!”
I flinch from his shouting, but I’m standing my ground. “Right, and I’d really like to get some sleep.” I start to walk away and he grabs my arm, yanking me back.
“You disrespectful little slut,” he spits in Russian. “I’ll rip you apart—”
I yank my arm out of his and glare at him. “What do you care, anyway? You said you’d leave me destitute. Your own daughter. You don’t give a shit about me.”
That cuts through his anger. His face changes, blanching from the deep red it was a second ago. “Natalya—”
“I’m going to bed,” I say. “But don’t worry. When I get up, I’ll start packing my bags. You won’t have to see this shlyukha again very soon. Don’t you worry.”
With that, I turn and walk away from him, going to the pool house. The door closes behind me and a bubble of laughter rises within me. Is this madness? Have I truly lost my mind?
I don’t know. Maybe. I just spent the night with one of my father’s associates. That’s got to be some sign of insanity.
I go to my bathroom to take a shower. As I take my clothes off, I turn around and look at myself in the mirror, down to my ass. The red of my skin is starting to darken into bruises. I touch the skin and wince a little. It’s still really sensitive to the touch.
After sex, we lay in the bed kissing. He wrapped his arms around me and held me, insisting that I stay, just for a while.
Just until he felt like I would be alright to move just in case he was too rough on me.
He rubbed my sore ass softly and asked me how I felt, making sure I was okay.
It wasn’t a cursory question, either. He really wanted to know that I was whole after that experience.
But I was. I am. I’m more than all right.
I want to fill every inch of that tight little snatch so good you’ll feel me for days after. I don’t want you to forget this night.
I smile. I can still feel him inside me in every step I take and every little move of my hips. It’s like he’s marked me in more ways than one. I feel like we’re connected by an invisible string.
This is so crazy. This man has always been completely off limits to me. Is this feeling sweeter because of that? Or because of him? How could I ever tell? I’ve never been in this space before.
He’s right about one thing. I’m never going to forget. Even though I know that doing something like this again would be suicide. My father might be a tyrant and he might even hate me, but I’m sure he would still kill Anton if he knew, if for no other reason than to preserve his own honor.
I shower. The feeling of the warm water on my skin feels a little different today.
It’s so strange. That feeling I was looking for after I lost my virginity, like I was a new person altogether, it’s here now.
My skin feels softer, like something new had grown over in place of the old.
The little stings of pain from my pussy and the skin of my ass I don’t mind, because it’s like I’ve gotten a factory reset.
Hmm. Maybe this is what a first time is supposed to be. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with the physical aspect like the breaking of a hymen or shit like that. Maybe it’s all about this feeling.
God, I wish I could go back and do this all over again. I’m sure I’ll never feel this again with anyone else.
I get out of the shower, dry off, and get ready for bed.
As I slip into my nightgown, I debate calling Ilya to gush about what happened, but I decide against it.
She and Rodney disappeared soon after we arrived at the club, off to play in their own way, I guess.
I can imagine they had a late night just like I did.
I’ll connect with her later, after I get some sleep. I’m exhausted.
I pull the shades and slump into my bed. In seconds, I start to drift off, and my last thought before sleep takes me is of Anton holding me in his arms and how safe I felt with him.
The melody of my phone interrupts my dreams. I open my eyes groggily to see my phone chiming and vibrating on my nightstand. I lift my head to see the name Daddy over the phone number on my screen.
Anton. With a smile, I answer. “Hello?”
“Good morning,” he says. “Or afternoon. I see you got home all right.”
“Sorry, I forgot to text you. I was exhausted.” I lay back on my pillow. The low pitch of his voice is like honey. Salve for my emotional wounds.
“It’s all right,” he says. “I’m just glad to hear you’re okay.” He pauses. It’s just half of a second, but long enough for a million thoughts to cross my mind. Are you calling to say you regret what happened? Or to apologize? Please don’t. You were wonderful.
“I was hoping,” he says, “that you might be available sometime for dinner.”
This heavy elation on my heart is almost more than I can bear. Everything in me wants to say yes. Of course I’m available! I know better, though. Me and Anton… we don’t have normal lives.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” I ask him. “I mean… you know who my father is.”
“I know.” He sighs, then again, a little lower, “I know. What happened last night was a serious breach of protocol. If I were in your father’s shoes, I’d start a war without hesitation the moment I found out someone laid a hand on you.”
I chew on my lip, listening to him, savoring every second that I have before we both go our separate ways.
The tiniest sliver of madness takes over me and I respond with, “We would have to move in secret. I mean, no one could know. Not your people, not his. I know how you Bratva types like to gossip.”
He laughs. It’s an unexpected sound, like a lion’s joyful rumble.
“You must be eavesdropping on your father’s meetings.
I’ve personally heard weathered brigadiers sitting around gossiping like teenage girls.
” He pauses, then, “You’re right. We should end this before it starts…
but if a time ever comes that you change your mind or just need a night away, consider my door open.
Last night was… it was wonderful. You’re a natural at being a submissive. ”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”
“It’s a compliment, believe me. You were perfect. No notes.”
Ugh. What I wouldn’t give to have met him in another time. If only we were different people. Shit.
“Thank you,” I say. “And I’ll keep your invitation in mind.” That’s not a lie. Pretty soon, I will be out of my father’s house. Maybe one night in the near future, I’ll find myself standing on his doorstep. In the meantime… it is what it is.
“See you around, Anton.”
He utters a short chuckle. “See you around, Devushka.”
I swear I don’t think I’ll ever hear that word the same again.
After hanging up, I look at his number in my contacts. We exchanged numbers as I was leaving and at the time, it made sense. Text me to let me know you made it home all right. I didn’t, of course. My father made sure that didn’t happen. But now, he’s in my contacts, playfully marked as ‘Daddy’.
The thought of erasing his number crosses my mind.
It does feel like a little bit of a risk to have it, just in case my father somehow gets ahold of this phone.
Then again, I’ll be gone by the end of the week.
Getting access to me or my phone is going to prove difficult for him, should he think to try.
Maybe there will come a time that I can look Anton up for one thing or another. Maybe we don’t have to be lovers at all. He seems like he might be a good person to be acquainted with in any case.
I get up and get dressed. I meant what I said to my father about packing my things. Since he’s only given me a week to get out of here, then I’d better get started.
Donning an old T-shirt and jeans, my hair tied up in a messy bun, I get to work. I’ve got some old boxes that will work for now until I need some more. I imagine I’m going to have to put some of this stuff in storage until I can get my own place since I’ll be crashing at Ilya’s.
I start on my closet, putting the clothes on the hangers out and laying them across my bed.
I get the closet about halfway empty when my phone chimes again.
I pick it up and see that it’s Ilya. I glance at the time on my phone.
It’s been a couple of hours since I started this. Maybe she’s just getting up too.
I answer and put her on speakerphone. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I say.
She yawns loudly. “Good morning to you, too! Did you have fun last night?”
I wish she could see my smile. “It was something. I’ll give you that much. Never been to a place like that before, so it was an experience.”
She pauses. “You sound a little too happy right now. What happened to you last night?”
I turn to the phone and sit down on the part of my bed that doesn’t have clothes on it. “You’ll never guess who was there. Not in a million years.”
She doesn’t say anything for a second, thinking. “Was it somebody famous? Rodney told me that he thought he saw Dwayne Johnson there once. Although, it might have been Jason Momoa.”
I laugh. “As interesting as it is that Rodney can’t tell the difference between two very different men, I have to say no. It wasn’t anyone famous.”
“Okay, so somebody from high school or something? Who?”
I sigh. She is going to flip. “Anton Romanov.”
She takes a long pause before saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that. Say it again?”
“Anton Romanov,” I repeat. “He was there last night.”
“Shut the fuck up. No he wasn’t.”
“He was.” I take a breath before I say the next part. “He saw me in the voyeur room and we had a little chat… and then…”
“You didn’t. Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ, tell me you didn’t, Natalya Petrov.”
I have to cover my mouth to stifle my laughter.
“Nat,” she goes on. “Please tell me that out of all the men at that club that you could have had sex with, you did not have sex with the one guy you’re absolutely not supposed to.”
“I’d love to tell you that,” I say, a little laughter lilting my tone. “I’d be lying through my teeth.”
“Nat!” she nearly screamed. “Oh, my gawd! Have you completely lost your mind?”
I lie back on my clothes, looking up at my ceiling. “Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I think I have.”
“But how? I mean, okay.” I hear her moving around. “I need details. Tell me every fucking thing.”
I do. I tell her how we started flirting in the voyeur room and that lead him to proposition me, and what else could I do but take him up on it? I stop at the part where we go to get a private room. Those details are mine to keep. She just whispers, “Wow. I cannot believe this.”
A little bit of that old fear comes back and I say, “You know you can’t tell anyone this, right? Like seriously. Not even Rodney.”
“Oh, my God. Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m telling anybody this. I know who your dad is.”
“Appreciate it.”
I can hear her moving. She sounds like she’s pacing the floor. “Jeez, what happened to his being ‘as old as your dad’, Nat?”
“He most definitely is nothing like my father,” I tell her. “He’s… he’s something altogether different.”
“What does that mean? You two aren’t, like, together—”
“No, no. We both know the consequences. It won’t go any further than last night.” I think about him, one of the last memories of him while we were in bed, my legs wrapped around his hips and him over me, his muscles glistening under the pink light of the room…
“That’s smart,” Ilya says. “So, okay. Let’s get down to the real question. How big is Anton Romanov?”
I snort a laugh. “Lee.”
“Oh, come on. We’ve been wondering this shit for years. All those times you said it must be as big as a tree trunk, as long as a city block—”
That makes me laugh. We did have a little dick measuring contest between us girls at one point in time. One would say ‘as big as a fence post’ or something like that and we’d spend the rest of the time trying to one up one another. Just stupid teenage girl nonsense.
“He’s not as big as a city block,” I say, then coyly, I add, “Maybe as big as a stretch of neighborhood blocks.”
“Oh, shut up!” She laughs with me. When the laughter dies down, she says, “I can’t believe you actually fucked your teenage crush. This is a big day, you know. I’m gonna treat you to lunch.”
“I’ll do you one better,” I tell her. “Come over and I’ll buy pizza. I need some help packing.”
She sucks air through her teeth. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
“I can still crash at your place, right?”
“Yes, of course!” she says. “How did coming home last night go, by the way? You didn’t run into your father, did you?”
“Unfortunately, I did,” I say with a little sigh.
“He was less than thrilled about my late return.” She doesn’t say anything and I imagine it’s because she doesn’t know what to say.
I guess I wouldn’t either. “It doesn’t matter.
He wants me out, so I’m leaving. You were right, Lee.
This whole thing was a sign that my independence is at hand.
Next week is going to be the first week of the rest of my whole life. ”
“That’s the spirit,” she says, and it feels good. No, it feels right. It might not have happened the way I wanted, but it’s happening. Things can’t go anywhere but up from here.