Chapter 18 – Kostya
Alex and I walked into the dimly lit pool hall, and by the entrance, I scanned the entire space for the man I was looking for—the one I was supposed to meet up with today. My lips curled into a sly smirk as I finally spotted him by a pool table. He leaned against a wall with a propped foot as he draped a cue over his shoulder, its tip pointing downward.
His black outfit—a black shirt that hugged his skin, revealing his chest and chiseled abs, over a pair of black pants—seemed to blend with the shadows. His buzz cut shimmered under the faint wall lights, accentuating his shark-like features as he watched a couple of men play noisily.
“Fucking spectacular, I just banked the eighth ball!” one of them exclaimed, pumping a fist in triumph.
Roman Tarasov, my close cousin, jerked his eyes and saw me approaching. His brows narrowed slightly before breaking into a wide grin. “Kostya, you bloody animal.” He crackled playfully, arms spread wide open. “I've missed you, cousin.”
We both laughed as we embraced each other tightly.
“Look at you two, cuddling like damsels in distress,” Alex said teasingly.
“Alex Rykov,” Roman said, pinning his gaze on him. “The Tarasov Arnold Schwarzenegger. It's good to see you too.” He hugged him as well. “Alright. You three, off you go.” Roman waved his hand, snapping his fingers as he dismissed the previous men.
Without a word, they walked away, leaving the pool table. With swift motion, Roman racked up the balls and faced me. “Think you're up for it?” His eyes flickered with mischief.
“It's your funeral.” I grabbed a cue and stepped forward, ready to play.
A lot was happening at once in my head, and it was driving me nuts. I needed to unwind, and this looked like something that would help ease my stress.
I lined up my shot, eyes narrowed down on the cue ball as I struck it with a smooth precision honed from years of experience. Although I hadn't played in a while, the balls scattered across the green pool table, and a faint grin played on my lips as I sank a solid into the corner pocket.
“Nice shot,” Roman declared, his brows shooting up immediately. “And here I was, thinking you're a little rusty around the edges.” He chuckled.
I flashed him an arrogant grin. “Don't get too cocky. I still got it.”
“We'll see about that,” he replied, chalking his own cue tip. “So, I may or may not have heard that you're crazy about some woman.” He jerked his eyes toward me.
“Your cousin's a lover boy now,” Alex chipped in from the chair he was seated upon a few paces away.
“You made a joke. Good for you.” The sarcasm in my tone couldn't be any more obvious as I watched Roman's shot go wide.
My cousin burst out laughing. “You gotta admit, though, it was kinda funny.” He fist-bumped Alex, and the two of them grinned at themselves.
“This beast has found himself a beauty,” Alex added, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Ahh, that's a good one, buddy.” Roman laughed, taking a sip from a glass on the nearest table.
“Fucking idiots,” I muttered, taking my next shot with a swift, powerful stroke.
“Whoa, you weren't kidding when you said you still got it,” Roman said, squinting at the remarkable shot I'd just taken.
I slung my cue over to the nape of my neck and flashed him a smirk.
“But seriously, though. What's going on? Who's the girl?” He took another shot, and the balls went across the table, scattering here and there.
“Her name is Madelyn Everly,” Alex answered on my behalf, pouring himself a glass of vodka. “And she's Gabriel Brown's daughter.”
Roman turned to face Alex, wearing a confused scowl with eyes narrowing as if to process his thoughts. “You say his name like I'm supposed to know who the fuck that is.”
“At the moment, I believe saying he's Kostya's archnemesis isn't too far from the truth,” he replied, sipping his drink.
Roman turned in my direction, and his eyes widened. “You're fucking your enemy’s daughter?” He laughed. “Could this get any juicier?”
“You have no idea,” Alex mumbled under his breath as he relaxed in the chair, cradling the glass in his hand.
Roman's gaze on me was unwavering, as though he was waiting for me to clear the air. “Well?” His voice was firm, and he spread out his arms, demanding an explanation.
“It's complicated,” I said, bending over to take another shot.
“Then uncomplicate it,” he insisted.
I sighed softly, fingers rubbing my eyes. “I didn't know she was Brown's daughter at the time we met. She'd helped attend to my bullet wound, a complete stranger.” I paused and continued. “I was drawn to her, and honestly, she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen.”
Roman was squinting at me this whole time, probably wondering how it was possible that I was in such a delicate situation with a woman. It had never happened before, hence his surprise.
“Anyway, things got heated up between us one night, and we had sex,” I continued, taking another shot that scattered the balls across the table. “It turned out that I was her first, and that just made the whole thing even more interesting.”
“Whoa,” Roman said, smiling at my story.
“Anyway, I discovered she was the enemy's daughter and confronted her about it, only to find that she was completely oblivious to the feud between her father and me,” I explained, summarizing the entire event to my cousin.
“That doesn't sound so bad,” said Roman.
“Wait for the big finish,” Alex said, a pesky little grin playing on his lips.
“She's pregnant,” I blurted out, watching Roman freeze with a glass to his mouth.
“What?” His eyes widened in shock.
“Told you to wait for the big finish,” Alex whispered under his breath.
“Hold on, let's see if I get this straight,” Roman began, “So, her father is your archnemesis, and now she's pregnant with your child. Did I miss anything?”
“Nah. You pretty much covered it all,” Alex said, shifting his gaze across the two of us. I had a feeling he was having fun with this.
“Can this story get any more complicated?” Roman put his head down, massaging his temples.
“I'm gonna marry her,” I declared.
Instantly, he jerked his head at me, his eyes widening at my words. His jaw was dropped, and his mouth was slightly open. Roman looked at Alex, who was by now already laughing subtly, then returned his gaze to me. “What?”
“Relax,” Alex said to him. “You know your cousin. He always has a plan within a plan.” He emptied his glass in one swift shot.
“Enlighten me,” Roman said, looking right at me.
“Gabriel has something against me, a video that I do not want getting out to the public. If I marry his daughter, he wouldn't dream of tarnishing her husband's image,” I explained. “Plus, I'll be marrying the woman that I want, the one my body craves all day, all night. I'll be killing two birds with one stone.”
Roman was quiet, his fingers scratching the back of his head. He looked me dead in the eyes and asked a question that shook my bones, a question I hadn't stopped to think about until now. “How do you feel about being a father?”
As simple and harmless as it sounded, it rang a bell in my head, and I stood there frozen in front of him. I opened my mouth but couldn't find any words to reply.
It hit me differently as I recalled how Madelyn had said she was worried that I'd be a horrible father—how the fear of that was one of the reasons she'd tried to get rid of the baby. Would I really be a terrible father? Was I capable of raising a child with her the way that she thought was right?
I thought for a moment about starting a family with her, and the picture in my head was a beautiful one. I envisioned our kid running around the house on a Monday morning in a bid to avoid school while Madelyn chased after them, laughing. I imagined taking us all out on a drive around town, and it looked great.
My pulse quickened as I wondered about the sex of the child. Was it going to be a boy or a girl?
If it happened to be a girl, she'd take after her mother—so beautiful and kind. The mere thought of this imaginary daughter melted my heart. I'd give her the world and protect her with my life. I'd kill for her and make sure no harm would ever come to her.
A son would mean a future successor to my empire, the one to carry on the family name and legacy. I'd teach him everything that I knew and show him the way of the Bratva, so he'd take over when I was no more.
Whichever the case, this child was going to be a blessing, and I was willing to be there for them every step of the way.
Boy or girl, I couldn't wait for this baby to be born. Madelyn thought that I wouldn't be a good father. She was wrong.
Chapter 19 – Madelyn
I sank into the big, comfy bed in the new room he'd transferred me to. I pulled a pillow to myself and hugged it tight, staring at a wall clock as it ticked slowly—a subtle reminder of how long my days would be in this God-forsaken house.
I hated it here since everything smelled like him; even the very air I breathed was contaminated with his rich scent. It was so frustrating that I was handicapped and couldn't do anything to change my fate. I had underestimated him earlier, but clearly, his influence stretched wider than I had thought. If he could buy Dr. Lee over after he and I had already set a date for the procedure, then there was nothing he wouldn't do just to show me that I was his now.
It was almost midnight, and I was bored as fuck. These thoughts wouldn't give me a moment of peace. I tossed and turned on the bed without a phone to at least keep me busy. Kostya had taken it.
I might have just recently gotten entangled in the web of his violent life, but I had a strong feeling that I understood his reason for forcing this marriage on me. It wasn't only because I was carrying his baby or because he was obsessed with me—although these were a part of it. It was also because he knew my dad wouldn't use the leverage he had on him, considering they both would be in-laws once the marriage was a success. Clever. Selfishly twisted, but clever.
What would Dad think of this?
My breath hitched in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat at the thought of the disappointment on his face. I would be getting married to his enemy, the one man who had cost him a fortune and wouldn't pay him back a penny. He was going to be so mad at my horrible choice. Of course, he wouldn't know that I was forced into it.
This was the reason Kostya seized my phone; he couldn't risk me reaching out to my dad and cooking up another plan behind his back. So, in order to avoid that, he made me his fucking prisoner. I was like Rapunzel, locked away in a tower.
Growing up, all I'd ever wanted to do was make my dad proud, and for a while, I was actually doing just that. The look on his face the day I told him about the MedFuture Summit's interest in my research was priceless. He had long believed in me and had often told me that I was such a great daughter with a bright future.
Was this the bright future he saw? A future where I was forced into a marriage by his worst enemy and kept locked away like a treasure, hidden from the rest of the world? Hell no. Absolutely not.
I lay on my back, hands thrown up into my hair as I stared at the ceiling, dreading the idea that sooner, rather later, I'd have to face my dad and tell him about all of this. I wished that there was a way I could send him a coded message to hint at the fact that I was under duress. But it would be too big a risk, and I wouldn't do it even if I had figured out a way to do so.
If I did that and Dad figured out my silent plea, he'd go to war with Kostya. He'd raise hell on Earth and use every fucking resource he had to fight him. But in the end, my dad would lose. He was a businessman, not a cruel mafia boss. Sure, he might know a few powerful people, but with Kostya Tarasov's influence, those few powerful people would eventually pick his side in the end. There was no way Dad would win this fight or come out alive.
It would be stupid to send him a signal because then I'd only be sending him to an early grave. His death would be on me, and I still wouldn't be free from Kostya's clutches.
The man had meticulously planned this, and now he had me at his mercy.
I drew in a deep breath with shut eyes as I decided to come to terms with my new reality. I was his to command, and there was nothing I could do to change the life I found myself in. It hurt me so much that I would have to be his wife soon. My heart was broken, and I was disappointed in the way my life had taken a drastic turn for the worse.
This wasn't how I envisioned my future.
I felt a nasty sting in my eyes, but I fought back the urge to cry. I'd been crying since the start of this whole situation, and where had that gotten me? What problems had it solved?
This was my reality now. There was no escape from this world where I was in the thrall of a dangerously attractive man whose allure was matched only by his fixation on me.
I needed to speak with my dad, let him know that I was okay at least—not like I was truly okay because there was nothing okay about this whole situation. He'd be worried sick if didn't show up at home, and then he'd start looking for me. He'd stress himself out, thinking his enemy had probably kidnapped or harmed me—which wouldn't be too far from the truth anyway—but I didn't want that. I didn't want him stressing over me.
Tossing the sheets aside, I sat upright on the edge of the mattress, feet settled on the fluffy rug at the base of the bed. I needed to find my phone, and the only place Kostya would keep it would be somewhere close to him. His room, perhaps. It was the only place that made sense to me at the moment. Besides, I couldn't go around ransacking the whole house at this time of night.
I stood up, gathered my courage, and heaved a sigh before heading toward the door. As I reached it, I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror to my right.
The red nightgown I had changed into hours ago accentuated my curves, making me look sexy. I hadn't taken a look at my reflection since I got here. And now, looking in the mirror, my breasts seemed fuller, but I just attributed this change to my pregnancy.
I had more important things to think about at the moment.
I shook my head and gently opened the door before stepping out into the hallway. It was dark, and I could barely see a foot in front of me, but I needed that phone.
I stood there in the darkness, remembering the night he lifted me in his strong arms and took me to his room. The idea was to use my mind's eye to locate the bedroom. Even though it was dark, I could tell the direction of the staircase that led up there.
It took me a while of feeling the walls and groping for door handles to finally stumble upon one. A soft scoff escaped my lips as I gently turned the handle, hoping it wasn't locked. I was lucky; it wasn't. The door quietly creaked as my hand pushed against it, and soon, the interior came into view.
Yes, this was it—bright and beautiful with fancy lights—just like I remembered it. I scanned the room for any sign of Kostya, but he didn't seem to be inside. Maybe he stepped out, or he just wasn't home yet. Whatever the case, this was my chance to find the phone, and I was going to utilize it, as this opportunity might not present itself again.
With a careful push, I closed the door, and it fell shut behind me, its soft closure barely audible. I let out an exhale as if to ready myself for this mission before gliding into the room, my feet making no sound as I moved stealthily over the fine marble floor.
I began my search at the bedside table, pulling out its drawers and scouring the inside. However, instead of my phone, I found a stack of documents, some legal papers, and a pack of premium cigarettes.
As I pushed the drawers back in, ready to move to the table by the window, my eyes caught on something I'd missed earlier. A few seconds ago, I was so busy looking through the drawers that I failed to see the piece of cloth neatly folded and placed on top of the bedside table.
It was the same handkerchief that I'd used to clean his wound the first time we met.
My eyes widened slightly, mirroring my shock at the fact that he actually kept it.
I picked it up to be sure that it was the same one, and an abrupt chuckle escaped me the moment I did so. He did keep the handkerchief.
For some reason, it melted my heart to know that a part of him cared for me. Why else would he still hold on to my handmade handkerchief? Could it be possible that he wasn't as bad as I made him out to be? Even my ex, Ethan, never held on to something I gave him. Looking back, I realized that aside from my dad, Kostya was the first man to cherish the little things I did. Would a monster do that? Would a man who was incapable of love do something like that?
A part of me thought about how this further proved his obsession for me, but that didn't surprise me anymore. I'd come to terms with that already.
In that instant, the bathroom door swung open, and I gasped in fear as I jerked my eyes and saw him standing by the entrance. He was stripped from the waist upwards, revealing that masculine physique that always threw me off balance. A white towel was tantalizingly wrapped around his waist, and he stared at me with a poised posture, water droplets clinging to his body, glistening over his skin.
I swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the insanely hot man who was already approaching me with a smirk on his enticing lips. He was literally hot at this moment as the mist from the shower still lingered on his contours. My breath caught in my throat as I stood there frozen and at a loss for words. I couldn't bring myself to tear my gaze from his masculinity. There was a soft flutter in my chest when I noticed the water droplets tracing the lines of his torso, from his structured pecs to his chiseled abs.
Frozen in awe, I struggled to catch my breath as he towered over me with his imposing frame. My heart was racing in my chest as I stood in front of him, feeling so tiny and vulnerable. I drank in the sight of his masculinity—his heavy arms, broad shoulders, and strong muscles. I found myself taking gentle steps backward.
Without a word, he stepped forward, eyes fixed on me. A soft gasp came forth when my back hit the wall. I'd hit a dead end. There was nowhere else to go. I tried to explain what I was doing in his room at this time of night, but I couldn't seem to find my voice. My mouth opened but produced no words.
Suddenly, I was burning with desire, and the way he was looking at me wasn't helping at all. This man was irresistible, and even though I tried to stay composed, it was impossible to do so, especially not while I could feel the warmth from the steam radiating off his skin. Fuck!
Gently, he brushed the back of his palm down my shoulder, and I could feel every dead cell in me come alive. His touch made my pussy tingle, and my whole body vibrated at the feeling of his skin against mine. Once again, I was helpless, and I knew at that very moment that I was going to get fucked again that night. Honestly, deep down, I wanted it.
With his fingers, he raised my chin and looked into my eyes. “Do you remember our first night here?” His voice, low and husky, sent shivers down my spine.
I trembled, feeling a rush of excitement when his finger grazed my skin, slowly nudging a spaghetti strap off my shoulder. At this point, all of my defenses had broken, and my breath became harder to catch by the minute. His eyes darted toward the half-exposed breast, where only a whisper of fabric concealed my nipple.
A slight moan escaped my lips when he brushed his thumb over the fabric that covered my nipple. The feeling was erotic, and I bit my lower lip, subtly writhing against the wall behind me.
Why couldn't I resist him?
All of a sudden, all that anger, that disappointment, and that hatred I'd been harboring for weeks went out the window.
Maybe I'd pick them back up later, but for now, nothing else mattered to me. My body was craving him, and I loved the way he was taking his time to tease me. It set a spark through my body, lighting a flame within me.
I gazed into his eyes, burning with desire, as his hand left my beast, flitting underneath my dress. My chest was heaving rapidly as his fingers traveled up my thighs, and I let out a moan when he settled on my soaked panties.
“You naughty little girl,” his deep, sexy voice whispered into my ear. “You're wet for me already.” He slipped a finger into my slippery entrance.
Fuck! I almost forgot how good this was.
“You want me, don't you?” he asked, his tone unchanging and his eyes glued to my face as if to savor the expression etched on it.
I nodded subtly, feeling his finger go deeper inside me, weakening all my senses and pulling delicious moans from my lips.
“I wanna hear you say it,” he said, pushing even deeper inside me.
“I want you.” I moaned the words, surrendering to his dominance.
He untied the towel around his waist and yanked down my underpants. Kostya lifted one of my legs in the air, and before I could prepare my mind for his penetration, his hard cock thrust into my cunt.
I tried to hold in my moans, but the deeper his thrusts, the more impossible it was to be quiet. He sealed my lips with a hot kiss that I could not tear away from, and while at that, his hand went under my luscious hills, fingers possessively digging into my flesh as he supported my weight.
With my leg hanging in the air, he dug hard into my pussy as my hand caressed his back. I threw my head toward the ceiling, swooning in pleasure as he handled me like a real man.
His cock was hitting places—the right —and I was moaning, my eyes rolling back into their sockets from all that sensation coursing through my veins.
I missed this so badly, the thrill, the feeling of ecstasy—how good it felt to have him deep, deep inside me. It was mind-blowing. He kept going on and on and on, and I couldn't get enough; I didn't want him to stop, nor did I want this to end.
His touch set my skin on fire, causing my pulse to quicken as my titties bounced to the rhythm of his expert moves.
A sudden gasp escaped my mouth when he ripped my nightgown and pushed me to the edge of the bed, where he rushed to take me from behind. He positioned my leg on the edge while the other was my anchor to the ground.
My eyes widened in delight when the first thrust in this position hit me differently. He spanked my ass, riding fast and hard into my throbbing cunt. I squeezed against the sheets, biting on a pillow to muffle my moans, but his pull on my hair jerked my head back up. I was almost screaming, as the pleasure was too much to bear. My heart was racing so fast that I feared it would give out, yet I didn't want to stop.
Kostya continued to ram me so hard, so fast, spanking that ass like he owned it. The subtle pain from his pull on my hair added to the sensation that was threatening to consume me. He'd ignited a fire in me, and I was burning—burning with desire and ecstasy.
It was needless to attempt to control my moans, so I let them out. My legs were trembling, and my nipples grazed over the edge of the pillow beneath me. I was tempted to say his name, but I couldn't afford that now. Maybe later, but not now.
I buried my face in the pillow the moment he let go of my hair. My ass must have turned red from all that spanking. For a moment there, it felt like he was punishing me, but in a twisted way, I fucking loved it. I loved the feeling of being punished by him, the feeling of his dominance over me.
I couldn't understand how someone so deadly could make me feel so good. He was like poison, yet his touch, his kiss, and his big fucking cock felt so good. It was like I was under some kind of spell.
He let out a deep groan, hinting that he was about to cum, and barely three seconds later, I felt his warm load filling up my pussy. His body shuddered, and my legs trembled as he poured himself inside me with a deep push.
With the tension gradually easing off, I let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, that thrum of life returning.