12. Egor
EGOR
The warehouse looms ahead, its rusted metal doors groaning as Pavel shoves them open.
The scent of oil and damp concrete fills my lungs, the familiar stench of power and punishment.
My men stand in a loose semicircle, their expressions shifting from confusion to curiosity as Emilia hesitates beside me, her fingers trembling where they brush against mine.
"Pavel." My voice cuts through the silence like a blade. "Bring Sergei."
A murmur ripples through the crowd. Pavel's eyes flick to Emilia, then back to me, but he doesn't question. He disappears into the shadows, and the seconds stretch, thick with tension.
Emilia's breath hitches. "Egor, what are you?—"
"Quiet." The word is a growl, but not for her. Never for her.
It's because I'm mad.
Sergei emerges, his usual smugness replaced by wariness. His gaze darts to Emilia, then to me. He straightens, squaring his shoulders. "Pakhan."
I don't waste words. My fist slams into his jaw before he can react, the crack of bone echoing off the concrete. He staggers, blood spraying from his split lip, but he doesn't go down.
Good. I want him to feel this.
My next strike lands in his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. He doubles over, gasping, but I grab his collar and yank him upright, my knuckles splitting against his cheekbone. "You questioned her." Another punch. "You doubted her." My knee drives into his ribs, and this time, he crumples.
The warehouse is silent except for the wet, ragged sounds of his breathing.
I step back, my chest heaving, my hands slick with blood. Sergei spits red onto the concrete, his eyes burning with something like betrayal. "She's just a?—"
"Finish that sentence." My voice is deadly calm. "I dare you."
He swallows hard, his defiance crumbling. "You're choosing her over me?"
I don't answer. I don't have to.
I turn to Pavel. "Get him out of my sight. If I see him near her again, I'll kill him."
Pavel nods, hauling Sergei to his feet. The other men watch in stunned silence as my most trusted advisor is dragged away, his pride shattered along with his bones.
"I made the right decision then, Vetrov. It was worth it leaking information to the Armenians. The money's better over there anyway."
The realization dawns on me.
It was him.
The real rat.
My vision tunnels. The warehouse tilts. Sergei's smug face is the last thing I see before my hands lock around his throat, slamming him against the concrete.
His skull cracks against the floor, but I don't stop.
My fists rain down—once, twice, three times—until his face is a ruin of blood and broken teeth.
"I trusted you." My voice is a growl, feral, inhuman. "You tore us apart. You made me hurt her."
His laughter is wet, gurgling. "She was nothing. A whor?—"
I don't let him finish. My shoes connect with his ribs, and the snap of bone is music. He screams, curling in on himself, but I haul him up by his hair, forcing him to look at me. "You won't even make it to them."
Then a hand lands on my arm. Hers.
"Egor. Stop."
I freeze. "But he?—"
"Don't kill him."
The warehouse holds its breath. My men stare, jaws slack, as I turn to her, my chest heaving, my knuckles dripping. She's pale, but her chin is lifted, her caramel eyes steady. "Please."
One word. One fucking word, and the rage inside me snaps like a frayed wire.
I drop Sergei. He collapses in a heap, gasping, wheezing, but alive.
"Take him away."
I step back, my body trembling with the effort of restraint. My men exchange glances… shock, disbelief, fear. No one moves. No one breathes.
Emilia's fingers tighten around my wrist. "Let's go."
And just like that, I follow.
Then, I turn to Emilia.
She's pale, her fingers pressed to her lips, her eyes wide with shock. But there's something else there too, something that makes my chest tighten.
"Not yet."
I drop to my knees. Not to propose, but to apologize.
The concrete bites into my skin, but I don't flinch. I don't care. All that matters is the way her breath catches, the way her hands fly to her mouth like she can't believe what she's seeing.
"Egor, get up." Her voice breaks. "Why are you kneeling that way?"
I look up at her, my throat raw. "I was wrong." The words taste like ash, but I force them out. "I let my past poison me. I let my fear control me. And I hurt you." My hands clench into fists at my sides. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve another chance."
Her eyes shimmer, her chest rising and falling too fast. "Okay. Just get up."
"Not yet." My voice is rough. "In front of my men. In front of everyone." I swallow hard. "I need them to see. Because you deserve more than my pride. You deserve my humiliation."
A tear slips down her cheek. "Egor, get up."
"Not until you hear me." My jaw tightens.
"I just want to apologize and need everyone to know I was wrong.
And that I love you. I will spend the rest of my life proving I'm worthy of you.
Of this." I gesture to her stomach, my voice dropping to a growl.
"That's my child. And I will kill anyone who ever questions it again. "
She stares at me, her lips parted, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Then, slowly, she reaches out, her fingers brushing against my cheek.
I lean into her touch, my eyes closing for just a second.
When I open them, she's crying.
"I will work hard, so you can forgive me. And hopefully, take me back, even if this is all I will be doing for the rest of my life."
The car ride back is silent, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Emilia stares out the window, her fingers tracing the hem of shirt.
The moment we step inside the house, the air shifts. She turns to me, her cognac eyes dark with something unreadable. "Thank you for doing that. But you still have a lot to prove."
I nod. "I know."
She exhales, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "I may not take you back yet. But... you can touch me."
My pulse spikes. I don't move. Not yet. "Where?"
Her lips part, her breath hitching. "Anywhere."
That's all I need.
I close the distance between us, my hands sliding up her arms, slow, deliberate.
Her skin is warm, softer than I remember.
My fingers trace the curve of her neck, the dip of her collarbone, before slipping beneath the straps of her dress.
The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but lace and the swell of her belly.
She's glowing.
My throat tightens. I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands spanning her hips, my thumbs brushing the soft skin of her stomach. "Look at you," I murmur, my voice rough. "So fucking perfect."
Her breath shudders. "Egor…"
I press my lips to the swell of her belly, inhaling the scent of her, warm, sweet. My hands slide up, cupping her heavy breasts, my thumbs circling her turgid nips. She gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair.
"Still leaking for me, karamelka?" I tease, my breath hot against her skin.
She whimpers, her hips rolling forward. "Y-yes."
I groan, my mouth closing over one nipple, sucking gently. The first taste of her milk hits my tongue, rich, creamy, addictive. I swallow, my cock throbbing against my zipper. "Fuck, you taste good," I growl, switching to the other breast. "Like liquid gold."
Her fingers tighten in my hair, her back arching. "Egor, please."
I pull back just enough to look up at her, my hands still cradling her breasts. "Please what? You want me to drink more?" I flick my tongue over her nipple, watching her shiver. "Or do you want me to make you come?"
She whimpers, her thighs pressing together. "Both."
I chuckle darkly, my hands sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her closer. "Greedy, aren't you?" My mouth latches onto her again, sucking harder this time, my fingers digging into her flesh. She moans, her hips rocking against my chest, her milk dripping down my throat.
I could stay like this forever.
But I want more.
I pull back, my lips wet, my chin glistening. "Turn around," I command, my voice rough.
She obeys, her breath coming in short gasps as she faces the wall. I press against her back, my hands sliding over her belly, her hips, her thighs. My fingers hook into her panties, dragging them down slowly, savoring the way her breath hitches.
"Spread your legs," I murmur against her ear.
She does, her thighs trembling.
I drop to my knees again, my hands gripping her ass, spreading her open. My tongue drags through her slit, slow and deliberate, tasting her arousal. She gasps, her hands slamming against the wall for balance.
"Egor!"
I groan against her, my fingers digging into her flesh. "You're so wet for me, karamelka," I growl, my tongue flicking over her clit. "So fucking ready."
She whimpers, her hips rolling back against my mouth. I devour her, my tongue swirling, my lips sucking, my fingers sliding inside her, curling just right. She cries out, her body trembling, her walls clenching around my fingers.
"That's it," I murmur, my voice dark. "Come for me, karamelka. Let me taste it."
She shatters, her back arching, her thighs shaking as she comes against my mouth. I lap at her, greedy, possessive, my cock aching with need.
But I'm not done.
I stand, my hands sliding up her body, cupping her breasts again. "Can we do more?" I murmur, my thumbs rolling over her nipples.
She nods, her head falling back against my shoulder.
I pinch her nipples, just hard enough to make her gasp. "You want me to come too, karamelka?"
"Yes," she breathes.
I spin her around, my hands gripping her hips, lifting her onto the bed. She gasps, her legs wrapping around my waist. I free my cock, my hand stroking the thick length, my eyes locked on hers.
My hands tremble as I guide myself to her entrance, the heat of her wrapping around me like a promise. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, but her eyes never leave mine.
Slow. Gentle.
I rock into her, inch by inch, savoring the way her body stretches around me, the way her breath hitches with every thrust. Her thighs tighten around my hips, her back arching as I bottom out inside her.
"Egor," she whispers, her voice breaking.
I capture her lips, swallowing her moans, my hands cradling her face. "I've got you," I murmur against her mouth. "Always."
Her walls flutter around me, her body trembling as I move, slow and deep. I can feel her tightening, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I reach between us, my thumb circling her clit, and she shatters with a cry, her body clenching around me.
I follow her over the edge, my release tearing through me, my cock pulsing inside her as I spill every last drop. I collapse against her, my forehead pressed to hers, our breaths mingling.
"I love you," I whisper, the words raw, honest.