15. Andrei
Andrei
B lair and Niko’s laughter echoes through the house, their combined happiness a balm over my frustration as I close the door to my new bedroom.
In an ideal world, I’d be with them. I’d be able to join them in the kitchen, laugh with them, and bask in the warmth of everything that’s changed in such a short amount of time.
If Alexei wasn’t a fucking asshole, I’d be able to watch Blair as she moves comfortably through her own space, her eyes flitting to me when she thinks I’m not watching, and relive every moment of last night.
I’ve spent so long dreaming about having her underneath me, of having the opportunity to worship her body and delighting in hearing her cry out as she comes for me. For years, I’ve laid awake at night, aching to make her mine as I take her over and over again.
But my dreams had nothing on reality.
Blair has my ring on her finger. I’m living in her house. And I never have to wonder what she looks like when she’s screaming with pleasure because the image is permanently burned in my mind, a sight so glorious I’ll savor it until my dying breath.
I should be over the fucking moon, but every time I try to indulge in the fruits of my labor, someone’s there to blow up my phone and drag me away from my new life.
“You couldn’t think of a better way to announce your farce of a marriage?
You could’ve announced you were going away for a honeymoon, or sent out a fucking postcard, but no .
You had to show up and overshadow my hard work and make the evening about you,” Alexei seethes, not giving me a chance to interrupt him.
Honestly, I’m impressed he was able to wait until the next afternoon before he decided to rip my head off.
“I’m sick of Blair’s love life being the center of attention at my nightclubs, Andrei.”
“She’s not thrilled about it either, you know.” I fight to keep my voice level, to not let him know what I really think of this little tantrum.
Niko’s better behaved than he’s being right now.
“Sure,” he spits. “It’s just a coincidence, right?”
“If you really want to know, I practically had to drag her there last night. And, for the record, it isn’t her fault Daniil used Riot’s opening to humiliate her,” I tell him with an edge to my tone.
That night was a disaster on all fronts, but none of it was Blair’s fault.
The only reason I even went was for a chance to see Blair all dressed up, and instead I was treated to the torture of watching her curling further and further into herself while she watched Daniil flirting with Emiliya, broadcasting his infidelity to the entire Bratva.
Then some mudak from The Outfit decided to make a splash and shoot up the place, and I got to watch Blair’s heartbreak firsthand when instead of hurrying to her, Daniil made sure Emiliya got out safely.
Instead of going home with her husband after a night out, she silently cried while I drove her home, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to comfort her.
Unfortunately for Alexei, the shooting wasn’t enough to overshadow the gossip about the Krutikovs and their soap opera-worthy marriage. And apparently he still hasn’t learned to let it go.
“Besides, Pavel’s the one who caused a scene last night. The only thing Blair and I did was share our good news with your sister.”
I don’t want to waste my day calming Alexei down.
It was bad enough when, instead of waking up with Blair, I had to sneak out of the house before sunrise to handle a mess of someone else’s making.
Every time I think I’ll get a chance to apologize to her and make up for it, I get pulled away for one thing or another.
“And yet the only thing anyone wants to talk about is the two of you. I’ve worked for the past two years to ensure last night went off without a hitch, Andrei.”
“What are you, a child?” I scoff. “I wasn’t aware you were so insecure you needed a pat on the back and to be made the center of attention in order to feel gratified. In that case, good job, Alexei. Everything was great. You did a wonderful job. ”
His growl would be amusing if I weren’t preoccupied with straining to listen to whatever song Niko’s singing while he and Blair play in his bedroom.
“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Alexei bites out.
“Then tell me what your real issue is. If it isn’t your ego, then what’s your fucking problem with my wife?”
His silence is loud and it’s more than I have patience for right now.
“You want to know what I think?” I ask him.
“Not really, but you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”
“I think you’re still pissed everything went wrong when Riot opened, but you can’t take it out on the people you really want to blame.
You can’t lash out at Maksim for how shitty our relationship with The Outfit was when the shooting happened.
You can’t tell Pavel what you really think about him being an asshole last night, and you know I won’t put up with it if you try to blame me for it.
So you’re taking it out on Blair because she’s an easy target and, until now, no one’s said anything when you treat her like shit. ”
“I didn’t treat her like shit,” Alexei protests, but there’s no heat to it.
I’m not foolish enough to think he’s going to apologize to her, but Alexei needs to understand things are going to be different now.
I’m not Daniil. I’m not going to let people treat Blair like she’s anything less than she really is. Alexei—and everyone else, for that matter—can start treating her with the respect she deserves, or they can fuck off .
“Next time you two have a big announcement, don’t do it at my fucking clubs, alright?”
“About that,” I can’t help but say just to get a rise out of him. “Can we rent Savage for a late wedding reception?”
Not that I think Blair would even want a reception.
I’m willing to bet she’d like to keep news of our nuptials under wraps, but if I want to keep her safe, we don’t really have that option.
Whether her hesitation is because she regrets marrying me entirely, or because she isn’t ready to deal with the judgment of marrying so soon after Daniil’s death doesn’t matter.
Eventually, when she’s more comfortable with our new relationship, we can do something more public.
A vow renewal. Or a honeymoon, like Alexei said.
Until then, I’ll settle for the whole Bratva knowing that she’s chosen to be with me, no matter how fraught the circumstances may be.
“Fuck off, Andrei,” he snarls and hangs up.
Good. I hope he gets so worked up he’s still livid come morning. It’s the least he deserves.
I look around the guest room to calm myself down. I’m not used to being here yet, but I refuse to make the space my own, no matter how many times Blair insists I’m free to do so. I’m not going to let myself settle in until we’re sharing the same bed every night.
The few pieces of clothing I brought with me are still mostly shoved into the single bag I brought with me after the wedding.
I’ll need to go back to my condo and get the rest of my clothes at some point, but every time I leave the house, the only thing I can think about is coming back as soon as I can .
Coming back to Blair, being welcome in her home, is a greater high than I ever thought possible.
If I’d been thinking, I would have packed up my whole condo and arranged to sell everything inside it after the wedding, but I didn’t. My thoughts had been consumed by an almost giddy feeling, knowing she was welcoming me into her life.
After years of being nothing but her kidnapper, her husband’s best friend, the man she’s spent so much time hating, I finally have a chance to take care of her.
After so long watching her look after Daniil and Niko, I can finally take some of the weight off of her shoulders and help ease her burdens.
I just have to convince her to let me.
It’ll happen eventually, but I’ve spent years lamenting lost opportunities with Blair, and my patience is running thinner than I’d like it to.
My phone dings with yet another text from Maksim demanding I attend to even more bullshit I don’t care about, and I bite out a curse, tempted to chuck the damn thing at the wall.
So much for my plan to join Blair and Niko for dinner.
After everything is a little more settled, I’ll be free to start incorporating myself into their lives. Last night was everything I could have ever asked for, but I want more.
I want her to do more than just accept me into her life; I want her to crave me the way I do her. I want Blair to understand the depth of my feelings, and I want more than an occasional night in her bed.
I want to spend every day and night by her side. I want her to love me the way I love her .
Maybe tomorrow people will learn to handle their own shit, and I’ll be able to savor Blair’s laughter the way I want to.
I snatch the jacket off the top of my bag and head toward the sound of her melodic laughter. If I have to leave, at least she’s going to know I’m coming back later.