Chapter 3
“And this is the owner’s suite.” Ivan pushes open french doors and reveals the ugliest bedroom I’ve ever seen.
“It’s been empty since my brother passed away.
I already had my own rooms and never felt inclined to move, and then, well, I started spending less and less time here after Blanche and I…
Anyway, you’re welcome to occupy any of the suites, but this is the largest and has the best view. ”
He continues, but all I can think about is the fucking red latex. It’s everywhere in this wing of the house. The garish shade spans from the rug to the walls to the furniture. Even the ceiling wasn’t spared, with velvet surrounding a mirror that hangs directly above the four-poster bed.
I’ve had my fair share of “red room” experiences, but it’s a gauche aesthetic for a bedroom, especially in a house this big.
The suite doesn’t even have the equipment to make it a practical room for real kink.
The bed frame looks domineering, but there aren’t any metal reinforcements to attach restraints.
A stripper pole is tucked into a corner of the room, but it’s plain.
I don’t see any hooks dangling from the ceiling to hang a swing.
Or a bad boy who’s gotten himself tied up.
There’s a large red velvet chair in front of the bed, but no furniture ergonomically designed for more strenuous positions.
It seems like the owner of this suite wanted to feel like they’re kinky, while fucking like every other vanilla loser out there.
I shouldn’t say loser. That kind of sex life is absolutely fine for most people.
But most people don’t run underground operations that could take out small countries.
I learned early on that a simple fuck was never going to be enough for me.
I need the power, the pain, and the absolute submission of my partner.
Which means I need to add an actual kinky room somewhere in this mansion and make my own suite livable.
I rub my temples, making a mental note to add the owner’s suite to the ever-growing list of renovations around the place.
It’s not a complete disaster. The bones of the house are solid, with traditional designs and layouts that have aged well over the years.
Luckily, whoever got their hands on the place didn’t have enough time to do too much damage.
It’s mostly surface-level renovations that will need to be done, so some fresh paint and furniture and my interior designer should have this tacky mess sorted out soon.
Not that redecorating is at the top of my list. There seems to be a never-ending list of tasks that precede making my new house feel like home. I knew taking over a larger branch of our family’s Bratva would be hard, but I underestimated how much work it would involve by a long shot.
For starters, the transfer of power from Ivan to anyone would be a chore, but it’s going to be especially hard, considering my gender.
I’m up for the task, though. I can put any one of these men on their asses in a matter of seconds and outmaneuver them all politically.
I just need the time to prove to them that I’m worthy of their loyalty.
That’s just the emotional aspect. Their business operations are much different from how we ran Thunder Bay.
Ivan ran through everything with me, and while there are some details I like, I’m going to need to tweak things to my standards.
Apparently, Ivan only took over as the Pakhan from his brother Pavel a few years ago.
He showed me records of the nightmare he walked into, and the improvements he’s made in a short time are impressive.
We have a tight timeline for this merger, and it’s barely enough time for a complete handover, even if everything goes perfectly.
Ivan has agreed to visit as much as he can to make the transition as painless as possible, which means I’m going to be here a lot more than I planned.
I was naive to think that I’d be able to travel back and forth between Thunder Bay and New York to check on Teddy.
No, I won’t be able to make a trip to Florida for at least a month with the mess I have to clean up here.
Panic threatens to take hold, but with a deep breath and the reminder that he married into a whole-ass Mafia that will protect him, I find my resolve just as Ivan takes his leave.
“Alright, I’ll let you settle in. I’ll be back soon, but if you need anything, just reach out. My wife Blanche and I will be in the city, so I should be able to get back with you quickly.”
“Thanks, I’m sure we’ll manage just fine. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Ivan leaves, but I’m not sure how much “settling in” I’ll be able to accomplish in this gaudy sex den.
So much latex…At least it’s easy to clean.
Although…That thought lights a fire under me, and I decide to find the housekeeping staff instead of moping.
Even if it takes some time to re-decorate, the least I can do is make sure the room’s been drenched in bleach.
“What do you think, moya tsaritsa? Up to the challenge?” Misha knocks the back of my chair and hands me a cup of tea before sitting down across from me.
Sipping my tea, I observe my dearest friend through the steam. “Oh, please. This is nothing.”
“It’s not going to be as easy as it was under your father, you know. You had his protection and years to build rapport with the men. We barely have enough time to earn these guys’ trust, and when Ivan leaves for good—”
“I said I’ll be fine,” I snap.
Any of my other men would cower, but not Misha. He raises a brow at me and smirks, daring me to continue with my attitude, knowing how much I hate to lose my composure. I roll my eyes, pulling a laugh from him before continuing, this time with a softer tone.
“Go ahead, tell me what you think of it all.”
He sets his tea down and leans forward to prop his elbows on his knees.
“I think we’ve got our work cut out for us, and I don’t think we should let our guard down.
But I also think you can do it. Ivan ran this place well, or as well as he could after inheriting his brother’s mess.
From what I’ve gathered, his men are loyal to him, which means he’s a good leader.
Not so different from you and your father.
I think you’ll inspire them in a similar way as your predecessor.
And if they give you any trouble, I’ll kill them. ”
“We’ve talked about this. You can’t do that,” I laugh, but I know he means it. He’s protected me since, well, for decades now. Through thick and thin.
“I can and I will, moya tsaritsa.”
“Whatever you say, moya sila. What did you think of the house?” I laugh again as Misha chokes on his tea.
“It’s fine. I think the house is the least of your worries right now.”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that because you got the pretty blue room that seems to have gone untouched by whatever red latex demon threw up on the rest of the place,” I grumble.
Misha reaches out to grab my hand, pulling my gaze to his. “We can do this. You can do this. If you could make it out of Russia all those years ago, you can do anything.”
He’s right. This is paperwork. It’s clinical and administrative, and while yes, it can be annoying, it’s not a big deal in the long run. It’s not life and death; it’s just stepping up once more to become the leader I was born to be. I’ll prove myself, regardless of what it takes.