Chapter 15 - Joseph
I don’t understand how they can be with her without guilt.
Yes, I would’ve loved to join in. My body was begging me to agree to it all, to just let go and follow my instincts. But what happens afterward, when she regrets what happened and can’t face them in the morning? Or when she’s angry and she feels as though they took advantage of her?
But dammit, I can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s early morning. I didn’t sleep well last night. Once or twice, I got up to check on her, and they were still in her bed. They all seemed to sleep peacefully while I paced around the hallway, worried for her.
This morning, my eyes are gritty and dry. I should climb back into bed and try and get a few hours at least. But my head won’t let me.
I want to be available when she wakes up in case there are any issues.
I’m on my second cup of double espresso. My head is drifting somewhere between dreams and scattered thoughts.
“Fuck,” I groan, pushing my hand through my hair as I lean against the kitchen counter, staring at the empty coffee mug and wondering if I want another.
Maybe I should go up to the gym instead.
Sighing, I press the button and a fresh stream of dark liquid magic pours into the mug for the third time. Thank goodness I’m not one of those people who gets jittery.
On the kitchen counter, my phone buzzes softly. Picking it up, I don’t recognize the number on the screen.
“Hello?” I say quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else.
“Is this Joseph?” the man on the other end snaps angrily.
“Yes, who is this?”
“I believe you’ve taken my sister against her will,” he says coldly.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, and my throat tightens.
Be careful with your words, Joe.
“Your sister is here with us, yes,” I say cautiously.
“I got back from my trip, and she was just gone. No one knew where. The house was empty, and she wasn’t answering her phone. What the fuck kind of game are you playing with me? What the hell do you want with her?” he snarls.
“Misha, I believe we can resolve the misunderstanding if you…”
“This isn’t a misunderstanding. This is kidnapping!” he shouts, aggravated. I realize that nothing I say right now is going to calm him down.
“Did she marry four of you?” he demands.
“Yes,” I admit quietly.
“Is Artur one of those four?” he says, his voice constricted with anxiety.
He didn’t even seem bothered about her being the wife of four Pakhans. His main concern here is that one of them is Artur. Why would that be the most important aspect of all of this?
Kidnapping, forced marriage, four husbands…and he’s more worried about Artur being near his sister.
“Yes, Artur is one of us,” I say slowly.
“Joseph, you need to listen to me very carefully. That man cannot be near my sister,” he pleads.
There is something so much bigger going on here. Something Artur has been keeping from us. It might also explain his dark moods and persistent difficult attitude toward everyone. It might explain why he’s so cold and aloof and so fucking stubborn.
“What did Artur do?” I ask, getting right to the point of my concern.
Misha sighs heavily, letting the breath slowly push from his lungs.
“Just give me my sister back, Joseph,” he demands.
“Can we meet?” I ask. Because I want to know what’s going on. I want to get to the bottom of this.
“Yes, when?” he answers quickly.
“Give me a few days to sort some things out, and I will call you back. I have your number.”
“Please, let Maria call me. This is my new number. I texted it to her when I got it, but obviously she had already lost her phone at that point,” he says.
“Okay,” I answer, unsure about whether or not I will be able to allow her to call her brother. “She’s safe here, Misha. No one will let anything happen to her,” I reassure him.
“With Artur around, you can’t make that promise.”
“I am making that promise. I will make sure he does nothing to her,” I say.
After the call, I stand alone in the kitchen again.
Sipping my coffee, I think about what he said and how tense he was about Artur.
I don’t like the guy, either, but my gut is telling me there is a lot more to the story.
In fact, I know nothing at this point. But just because Misha hasn’t aggravated me face to face doesn’t mean that he’s the one in the right here.
There are always two sides to every story. Perhaps three. His, his, and the truth.
That’s why I asked for a few days before I meet up with Misha. I want to look into him. He might be hiding things, too.
After the call, my adrenaline has spiked, and I’m much more awake when the phone rings a second time.
“Yes,” I answer. It’s my warehouse floor manager.
“Sir, there was some feedback on the attack we had two days ago. We have some evidence pointing to a suspect,” he updates me.
“Go ahead, send me the info, or better yet, tell me now,” I demand.
“The man who seems to be behind it all is a guy who lives some distance from us, so it doesn’t make sense. Anyway, his name is Misha Baburin. What’s odd is that he didn’t even really try to hide his identity that much,” the manager explains.
“Dammit,” I growl under my breath.
“Sir?” he says.
“Thank you. Is everything cleaned up and back to normal?”
“Yes, sir. It’s all sorted, and we’re back up and running.”
“Let me know if anything else comes up,” I say.
“Yes, sir.”
The second call only serves to stir up more confusion on the matter. He obviously knew we had her a few days ago, but chose to only call now.
What the hell is going on?
Abandoning my coffee on the counter, I run upstairs to change and then head right out the front door to go for a jog on the beach. There is too much going on in my thoughts, and I have to clear them before I make the wrong choice in how to proceed with this mess.
Running barefoot along the edge of the lake with the sand beneath my feet and the fresh air invading my lungs, I can finally breathe easier.
Slowly, my thoughts clear, and I can piece all the ideas together into something usable.
No matter which direction I approach this puzzle from, it’s Artur at the center of it. He’s the bad apple.
He took Maria for a reason, and that reason may or may not be valid, but the point is that he kidnapped her, and Misha has every right to be protective of his sister. And furious about it.
Artur is the reason my warehouse got attacked this week, and he’s the reason for every bit of animosity in the mansion at the moment.
The longer I run, the clearer it becomes. Artur has to give us answers. He can’t keep us in the dark if he wants to be a part of this alliance. My business got attacked. Whatever secret he’s keeping is going to start affecting all of us. It already has.
But one thing I know for sure…if Artur chooses to leave instead of telling us what’s going on, there is no way in hell I’m letting him take her.
She stays with us.
And along that line of thought…I don’t want to give her back to her brother, either. It’s selfish and unreasonable, but there it is. The raw truth. Possibly a truth I was avoiding and unwilling to accept.
I’m drawn to that girl. I don’t know if her brother is able to keep her safe, or if Artur has good or bad intentions with her. All I know is that I can keep her safe. And I intend to. I won’t let anyone jeopardize that.
She is mine to keep. She’s my wife. Regardless of everything, I have a right to her.
I run until my lungs are burning, then I head back home.
By the time I get home, I have to sit on the bench outside the mansion gates, right at the edge of our private beach.
It takes me a while to catch my breath and cool down.
When I do, I go inside with one thought on my mind: finding Artur and forcing him to tell me what the hell is going on.
I want answers.
And he’s going to give them to me no matter what it takes.
I burst through the front door. I’m hot and sweaty, my shirt pasted to the front of my body.
“Artur!” I shout into the mansion as I enter.
“Joe?” Benedikt answers me in fright. He’s standing in the foyer surrounded by other people. People I recognize.
“Uh…” I stammer, standing up straight and pushing my hand through my hair as I scan the familiar faces. I turn to the young woman first.
“Belinda?” I smile at Benedikt’s sister.
“How did you know?” she asks.
“Family resemblance, I guess,” I smile, holding out my hand to shake hers, then realizing it’s probably clammy, I draw it back. “Sorry, I need a shower. It’s hot as hell out there.”
“I can’t believe you went running, man. Why not use the treadmill upstairs in the air conditioning?” Benedikt asks.
“I needed fresh air and to clear my head,” I say.
He nods.
“And you guys. It’s so good to see you. Where is my sister?” I ask, speaking to her four husbands.
Viktor smiles and says, “Hi, you look well!”
Lev raises his hand in greeting, and Kolya and Dimitry both say, “Hey man,” at the same time.
Viktor gestures vaguely behind him. “Leila’s inside, she went ahead to get some water,” he explains just as she comes around the corner, waving her face in front of her hand like a fan.
“Oh my word, it’s a thousand degrees…Joe!” she shouts, running toward me to hug me.
“Ew,” she complains when she realizes too late that I’m drenched in sweat.
I chuckle. “Hey, kiddo. How’s life? To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Leila shoots me an overly sarcastic glare.
“Really, you can’t guess what might have brought us all here today? No big secrets you’ve been trying to keep from me? Nothing comes to mind?” she muses, her brows raised, lips pursed.
“We were going to find out sooner or later, man,” Kolya shrugs.
I sigh and look up at the ceiling for a moment. “I was going to tell you. It wasn’t exactly a secret. I just wasn’t sure how to…I didn’t want to upset you,” I sigh again.
“I’m not upset. Not yet. I decided to come here and get the story from you myself. And I thought Belinda might want the same from Benedikt,” Leila says, glaring at Benedikt as though he’s also in trouble.
He shifts under a sharp gaze and throws me a panicked look.
Belinda giggles. “She called me and told me about the marriage. I can’t believe you kept it a secret, Ben,” she scolds her bear of a brother.
Ben looks at me again, and I shrug. “I guess we should get some iced tea out and fry some bacon?” I suggest.
“Sounds good to me,” Leila says, turning and walking into the mansion. Her husbands follow after her.
Belinda slips her arm around Benedikt’s waist and gives him a side hug. “How are you, big brother?” she asks as they walk toward the living room.
“I’d better go tell the chef and wake everyone else up to join us for breakfast,” I say.