22. Kaz
“He’s still alive,in case you’re wondering,” Vanya says.
“I wasn’t,” I reply, matching his somber tone.
I have given up on the idea of Mattia collaborating with me. My twin brother and I share nothing in common except for Alexei’s blood flowing through our veins. Did I hope for a different outcome? Perhaps. But the more I involve myself in his life, the more I realize how different we are. While our paths may have been similar, he values nothing. His sole purpose in life is to please Ermanno.
“He’s your brother, Kaz,” my cousin reminds me as if I could ever forget.
I’m not sure what he expects me to do with that reminder. He isn’t here to face the consequences of Mattia’s actions. He doesn’t know about the scars Caelia carries or the extensive work it takes to sabotage Ermanno’s shipments one by one. I have lost so many men for this revenge plan and question whether it’s worth it. My father would forgive me for having such thoughts.
“So what? Are you telling me that blood is more important than anything else?” I let out a bitter laugh.
“I’m telling you, he has valuable information we could use. If you were to return and talk some sense into him, perhaps things could be different.”
Talk some sense into him. Right. I could do that, but I would do it like he tried to talk some sense into Caelia—with my fists and my gun.
“I’m doing my part, Ivan. You might want to consider doing yours.”
I never agreed with Sevastyan when he suggested giving Mattia a chance to do the right thing. I despised this part of the plan from the very beginning. Yet, I went along with it. We kidnapped Mattia and revealed the truth to him. But he spat in my face, calling me a fucking liar when I told him that Ermanno Benedetti is not his father. Although Ermanno raised him as his own to secure an heir, their blood connection is nonexistent. I offered him an opportunity to do the right thing and help me avenge Alexei’s death, but he refused. I never truly believed he would accept. Sevastyan fails to grasp that, but I understand. Blood is not everything. I feel nothing toward Mattia or the woman who gave birth to me. He made the choice he believed was right from his perspective, but now he’s become a liability. Despite being chained in a basement somewhere in Russia, he is a wild card, especially now that he knows the truth and our plans. Sevastyan keeps him there, hoping he will have a change of heart.
He might be my blood, but after everything he did to Caelia, he’ll die by my hand, brother or not. I don’t have many close connections in this world. And the people I keep close to are those I’ve known my entire life. And I wouldn’t put my life in their hands either. It stands against everything my uncle taught me after my father’s death. It’s the way I’m wired. Trust is a scarce commodity for me, regardless of blood ties. Vanya is still on my blacklist. I don’t trust Caelia. At this moment, I don’t even trust Sevastyan. I’m a loyal man who will do anything for those I care about. I would take a bullet for them, but I don’t expect them to do the same thing for me, and it has served me well so far.
“When will you return?” Vanya asks.
“When I’m finished here. How is business going?” I inquire.
He updates me on everything I missed, although I’m not foolish enough to take his word for it. He made a mistake by withholding information about Caelia, thinking it was for my benefit. It may seem inconsequential to him, but I have begun questioning everything since his error.
Outside, the rain comes down in thick sheets, pelting against the windows in a cacophony of sounds. A distant thunder rumbles, shaking the room, and the power abruptly goes out, enveloping the office in darkness.
“The power went out. I’ll have to call you back later,” I inform Vanya before ending the call.
I rise from my seat and walk to the window, gazing at the patio. The darkness is nearly complete, with only occasional flashes of lightning illuminating the sky. Trees sway in the wind, their branches thrashing against the ground. The raw power of nature unfolds before my eyes. I wonder if my father was ever reminded of his insignificance in the grand scheme of things, his mortality, and the fragility of life. I’m captivated by the power of nature on full display.
We are warriors, solnyshko. Nothing can break us, he used to say.
I turn away from the window, barely able to make out the shapes of the furniture in the office. A sense of serenity accompanies the darkness, a calmness that rarely graces my life. Leaving my office behind, I find solace in the living room, the only part of the house still bathed in dim light. Candlelights flicker everywhere, and an open bottle of wine rests on the wooden table, accompanied by an empty glass. And there she is—Mattia’s wife—lying on the floor between the couch and the table.
“What are you doing?” I approach her.
Another thunder rumbles outside.
“Just enjoying the thunderstorm.” Her voice is raw and vulnerable. I move the table closer to the other couch and then lie down beside her on the floor. She no longer flinches at my touch. I want to draw closer, to inhale her scent for hours, but I fear that if I do, I will never be able to let her go. Tonight, she smells like wildflowers.
“I used to find thunderstorms scary when I was a child.”
“And now?”
“They weirdly soothe me.”
I understand the feeling. I know it all too well.
“Do you trust me, Caelia?” I shift to my side, curling my hand around her hip. She startles her gaze, following the movement of my hand. I caress her thigh, pulling her body closer.
The foundation upon which I’m attempting to build this relationship is fragile, and I fear it could crumble at any moment.
“Yes,” she replies.
I slip my hand under her top, stroking her stomach.
“Is that a lie?” I inquire.
“Yes,” she answers quietly.
Leaning closer to her ear, I lick her earlobe. “Do you want this?”
“No,” she whispers.
“Is that another lie?”
She takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
My hand slips into her shorts, my finger pressing against her clit. I apply pressure with my elbow on her abdomen, keeping her still as she squirms beneath my touch. Slowly, I move my finger up and down, savoring every whimper that escapes her lips. Her red hair spills across the floor, her lips parted, her eyes closed. It’s an image I want to carry to the depths of hell when my time comes.
“Tell me another lie.”
“I wish you a long and happy life.” Her voice is barely audible amidst the storm raging outside.
I curl my middle finger inside her. Her body arches off the floor, her head falling back, her breath growing heavier. Her moans could lull me to sleep. She sees me as her enemy, and I’m okay with that. Mattia is her enemy, and she’d be a fool to let her guard down. The thought of her giving me complete trust appeals to me, though. No lies. No secrets. I can picture that life in my head. I withdraw my finger, drenched in her arousal, and bring it to my mouth, savoring her taste. My palm cups her cheek, turning her head toward me.
“Another lie,” I demand.
“I want you to stop.”
I undress her slowly, tracing the line of her jaw with my lips. Her breathing is heavy in my ear. She lifts her hips, offering herself to me. The silky robe falls off her shoulders. I take off her top. I spread her legs, my fingers slipping between her folds a couple of times. I push two fingers inside her. Her breath hitches, and she looks up at me, desire darkening her green eyes. I squeeze one of her tits, finger-fucking her as deep as I can. I massage her neck, reminding her how easily I could cut off her air supply.
“If you ever touch another man or allow someone else to touch you, both of you will die,” I warn.
“Is that a lie?” she asks.
I move to her feet, kneeling like I’m about to pray. Which I am. I’m going to worship her body until she wants to give me every truth that lives inside her mind. Grabbing her waist, I pull her closer to me, spreading her legs and lifting her off the floor until her pussy is right in front of my face.
“Does that sound like a lie to you, Wildfire?”
I don’t hear her response, and I’m not sure if she even replies. Placing my hands on her, I bury my tongue between her legs. She bends her knees, bringing them closer to her chest. “Ah, wrong move. This sweet pussy is so fucking wet for me, and you’re going to be a good girl and show it to me.”
She moans, parting her legs in the air. Exactly how I want her. The storm outside doesn’t seem to stop soon, and the only sound within the house is made by my fingers plunging into her soaked pussy. She writhes beneath me as I press my tongue against her ass entrance.
“What are you?—”
Her thoughts are cut short by my tongue sinking into her tight hole. I’m going to own her ass one day, together with everything else she has to offer. I alternate between her ass and her clit. She’s wet, needy, and so, so ready for me. I spread her wetness with my fingers, mixing it with my spit, and suck my middle finger before I push the fingertip inside her. She whimpers, her breath cut short. My finger curls inside her, and my tongue lavishes attention on her clit. I slip my hand on her body, twisting her nipple as I make my way up, aiming for her neck. Her body is arched on the floor, her ass pressed against my chest.
“I want your pretty cunt to come for me, Caelia. Only for me.”
I feel her body tensing, trying to fight this. She’s too stubborn to come on command, but it has happened before and will happen again. Her body hums for me. She could lure me to sleep with her moans. I slip out her ass so I can push two fingers inside her, curling them as I fuck her. When my mouth closes on her clit again, her knees snap close, almost crushing my skull. She loses all control as I hit her G-spot and squirts into my mouth, screaming so loudly that it nearly overpowers the storm outside.
“Fuck,” I growl as I withdraw my fingers, drinking everything from her, her entire body convulsing under my touch.
I don’t stop until she comes down from the high, blinking at me with a horrified expression on her face.
“What did just happen?”
“You’re going to squirt like that on my cock, and it will be the most sacred image I’ve ever witnessed,” I smirk. She has a few seconds to recover while I get rid of my clothes. I take a seat on the couch, nudging her with two fingers. “Come here.”
She moves closer to me, kneeling. Placing her palms on my knees, she looks at me with uncertainty.
“What’s wrong, Wildfire?” Her gaze shifts to my cock, then back to my eyes. “Do you want to suck my cock?” She nods, her hands sliding higher on my legs. My cock twitches with anticipation. “Ask for permission.”
“May I please suck your cock?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
She’s fucking perfect.
“What makes you think you deserve it?” I grip her hair, tilting her head back.
“I don’t think I deserve it,” she pauses momentarily. “Sir.” Fuck. Her fingers graze the base of my balls, but she doesn’t touch me. She will drive me mad with desire first. “It’s you who deserves it, not me.”
“You may only use your mouth, Wildfire. Keep your hands behind your back.”
She swallows, nodding eagerly, lowering her head, and crossing her hands behind her back. She uses the tip of her tongue to circle the head of my cock. It’s agonizingly slow torture. She licks along the entire length, flattening her tongue. I hiss, her eyes fluttering but never leaving mine. I guide her head, thrusting into her mouth as I move my hips. Caelia opens her mouth wide, taking me deep, her lips pressing against the base of my shaft. She sucks, her head bobbing, her cheeks hollowing, her tongue swirling and massaging me until her lips graze my pelvis. I bite my tongue, struggling to remain silent. I fear my words will slip into my native tongue, exposing the truth I’m trying to hide. Her eyes water as she takes me as deeply as she can. She gradually withdraws, gasping for air through her nose. The desire to be inside her overwhelms everything else. Gripping her hair tightly, I pull her head back, bringing her closer and claiming her mouth with mine. Her body trembles and I’m not even touching her properly.
I need to find a way to make her mine forever.