Chapter 66 Ivan
IVAN
I wake up and immediately regret it. I hardly slept.
Out like a dead man for three hours, but now reality seeps back into my mind.
The Pakhan is dead—finally. I let Milana know last night, but I don’t reach for my phone to see her response, if any.
There will be admin to sort out, but it’s all just paper-pushing.
Everything is already in my name, and it’ll just be a matter of wrapping up the estate and finally making it public that all powers have shifted from father to son.
It’s a new beginning for the Petrov Bratva.
Speculation has been rife since the Pakhan ‘retired’ to a private estate somewhere in Hawai'i, and more of it has been going around since the failed coup.
Ever since Dimitri and his army got wiped off the face of the Earth—more like into a deep grave underneath my swimming pool—more rumors have been sprouting.
I’ll be glad to have this chapter closed, because fuck knows I’m tired of living this half-life, a prisoner of uncertainty. I want freedom for my girls, for my wife, for us.
Gabriella is snuggled next to me, her sweet butt flush against my thigh.
I lean in and breathe in her scent, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.
I left when she got her period, because I had shipments arriving at the harbor, but she interpreted it as me giving her space, not wanting to be close to her…
giving her a break from sex as our first attempts had clearly failed.
She stirs against me, and I want to slip a hand between her legs, wake her up with kisses that trail all the way down from her neck to that sweet, wet pussy, but my phone rings.
Fuck.
Certain numbers are set to ring irrespective of the time of day—urgent calls I can’t miss. I reach for my phone.
Just before six in the morning, and Matteo Scalera is calling me.
It’s time.
“Who is it?” Gabriella whispers.
“Your brother,” I say as I answer. “Matteo?”
“Party’s starting. We finally got The Mole and Mara on the jet, and they are heading to Boston. They’ll be here in seven hours. I could have left you to sleep in a bit more, but you need to haul ass to Boston.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Somehow, sleeping until now does feel like sleeping in. “Thank you. We’ll be there asap.”
“Good. Don’t bring the girls.”
“No.” Not a chance in hell. “I’ll bring Yuri and Gabriella. It will just be us three. And the odd bodyguard.”
“Obviously, but once in my compound, you won’t need it.”
“I know.”
We’ve had many conversations getting this deal off the ground, sometimes with Dominic on the call, once with Benedict to confirm he’d received the box of Bible photocopies.
Between all these calls, we’ve built some trust, and I’ve come to realize Matteo has his own little vendetta with this Mara woman.
He’s in it for more than just Gabriella.
We’re all in it to find Chiara, even though we have never met Gabriella’s friend.
Yuri’s on to something, but until we’ve dealt with this Mara woman, we can’t be sure.
As for Gabriella’s Bible, I’ll be taking the original with me today. I suspect Benedict needs it. I’ve spotted highlighted words, but there could be more to read between the lines.
“See you soon.”
We ring off, and I inhale in a deep breath as Gabriella turns into me.
“We need to go to Boston today?”
“Yes.”
I’m uneasy. I don’t want her to go through this, but there’s no other way.
Of course there were other ways, but I’m not traveling with Gabriella internationally.
Nowadays, with every face-recognition tool available at airports, it’s just a matter of one wrong step for someone to recognize her as the girl being hunted.
It would have been easier to ask The Mole for a photo of Mara to show Gabriella, but photos aren’t a thing in our circles for the same reasons.
But there’s more to our moves today. We are luring her here under false pretenses.
Mara’s thinking she’s coming to do some work for the man who took over from Randazzo, the new Don of the vast network Randazzo ruled.
For Mara, this is a second chance and a foot in the door with Il Consiglio.
Any other option could have triggered her to bolt.
She might be under The Mole’s care, but what do we really know of this woman?
My gut tells me not to trust anybody who worked for Randazzo.
The only positive in this whole fuck-up is that Matteo’s compound is in fact a penthouse apartment in a massive high-rise in Boston and his security is next-level.
Once we’re inside, nothing can touch us.
And Mara can’t run. She might not want to talk, but I believe Dominic could make her.
“Who is going to look after the girls?” Gabriella asks as she sits up, still deliciously naked from last night.
“Kostya will be here.”
“You trust him?”
“Yes. He took a bullet for me during the coup. Sliced straight through his shoulder,” I say, wishing we weren’t both on tenterhooks like this. “We need to be back by dinner time, so let’s get going.” I take her hand. “Shower with me.”
This suggestion seems to wake her up with a twinkle in her eye. “Is that camera still on?”
“What do you think, moya ptichka? If you’re a good girl, I’ll allow you to watch the recording of us later.”
And I bet it is going to be fucking sexy and I’ll save it to the folder I’ve created of her.
It would seem my obsession hasn’t dimmed since I’ve bedded my wife.
I think of her all the time, and while separated, I’ve learned to dip into that camera’s feed at the right time to jerk off every morning before I get up myself.
“I might not have been here, but I’ve been here, with you,” I say with a wink as I open the shower door. “And you know it.”
The way she soaped down every morning told me everything.
She chuckles, and then I have her pressed against the cold shower wall, protecting her from the spray as I open the cold water.
“It’s cold!” she protests, but her hands are already inching down to my hard cock where it’s nudging her belly.
“No steam for now, maybe later. To record clearer…for your viewing pleasure, moya ptichka.”
“Good grief,” she says on a giggle as I lift a leg to open her up for me.
She’s too short for this to work, and I’m going to have to support her full weight, both legs around my hips, back against the wall. No problem. Another fine reason to work out. “Tell me you’re wet, baby girl,” I say as I hitch her up, “thinking of all of this?”
“Of course I am,” she says on a blush, but then she giggles, and it is the soothing balm to my soul I’ve needed for days. “Chiara would be so proud,” she whispers, her voice raw.
“I bet she’d be,” I say softly, squeezing her hips to comfort her.
“So…you’ve figured it out,” she murmurs as she hugs me tight with her legs.
“That she’s making porn?” I tease with a quirked brow.
She bites her lip. “Hmm-hm…”
“Naughty little Catholic girls.”
That sweet blush deepens. “How did you find out? A video of hers?”
“Are you suggesting I’m watching porn, sweetheart?” I sound appropriately offended. “When I can watch you?” Because that’s the last thing I want or need. Yuri must have done some research because he was the one who enlightened me.
“No. I just wish I could tell her I’ve discovered an ambition I never knew I had…”
“And that is?”
“To be my husband’s private porn star.”
I smile against her lips. “It’s the perfect ambition to have for your husband, moya ptichka,” I murmur, and close my mouth over hers.