Chapter 14
ROMAN
I should have fucked her last night. Done what I wanted, what she wanted and buried myself deep inside her cunt before I had the chance to change my mind.
Instead, I spent three hours in a bar drowning in vodka that did nothing to erase her from my mind. No amount of alcohol could stop me from thinking about going back to finish what I started. Her gasps, how she responded to my touch and those fucking needy sounds she kept making.
I stayed away until I knew she'd be asleep, safe from me and the part of me that wanted to go back and finish what I started.
Nala needs to understand there’ll never be anything between us. She can't be my girl. The sooner she gets that through her head, the better. I don’t have a choice anymore. This little back-and- forth, the looks, the talking, and now the kissing. It’s over. I’m shutting this down today. Now.
I lock my expression down the way I do when I deal with enemies. Cold. Unreadable. I bury whatever softness I feel toward her.
She steps into the living room, her movements hesitant.
I don't look up from my laptop even though I'm so damn aware of everything about her. I don’t need to see her to know her eyes are softening, despite what I did to her last night.
She probably has her bottom lip between her teeth, because of how nervous she is.
Yeah. Nala, I fucking know you.
She edges closer to the table. I straighten my posture, keeping the act of being busy. Distant. Unapproachable. I hear her suck in a deep breath, working up the nerve to talk to the monster in front of her. The one I mentioned before. The one I’m about to become.
"Roman.” Her voice is soft, tentative. “Can we talk?"
"No."
"But last night… Don't you think we need to talk about what happened?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"There is. I want to know what went wrong. Why you left."
"That’s easy. Last night was a mistake. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again."
I keep my eyes fixed on the screen. It’s easier to do this without looking at her face.
"Why was it a mistake? I liked what we did. It felt good." Her voice slowly gains strength. "I think you liked it too. Roman, I felt your penis. I don’t know a lot, but I know it was hard, really hard. You wanted to put it inside me."
I still do. Every hour of every fucking day.
I slam the laptop shut and look her dead in the eyes. "What I wanted doesn't matter."
"Yes it does. What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense."
"It doesn't have to make sense to you," I grit. "It was a mistake. That's all you need to know."
"Why are you being like this?" She takes a step toward the table, hands curled at her sides. "I know what I felt and none of it felt like a mistake. I don't believe you."
"You don't believe me?"
I shove the chair back and stand. "I don't need you to believe me. In fact, I think it’s time I lay down some rules here.
The only thing I need from you, is to remember why I got you out of that basement in the first place.
" I stalk closer to her, watching her body tense, her breathing becomes shallow.
"I didn't bring you here because I needed a friend.”
I let my gaze drop low, before lifting it. “Or a pussy to fuck.”
She backs up, her shoulders hitting the wall.
"You're here for one reason,” I continue.
“You read people for me. You give me information I need to deal with anyone who tries to fuck with my operation. A week from now. Ten years from now. Doesn’t matter.
You'll still be with me, doing what I tell you.
That's the arrangement. You remember that, and we won’t have any problems."
"The arrangement,” she repeats, mouthing the word like it’s a foreign language. "If that's what this is, what do I get out of it?"
"I take care of you and keep you safe."
"Your father said that too. He said he could allow worse things to happen to me, but he didn’t."
The words hit me like a fist to the gut.
Fuck this.
Nala knows I’d never let anyone hurt her.
"Am I keeping you in a basement?"
"No,” she says, tears shining in her eyes. "But it’s starting to feel the same. I have windows I can't open and blinds I can’t see through. You’re telling me my feelings don’t matter and reminding me you’re in charge.”
Her voice shakes. “I thought we were friends, in a way. Now you’re telling me I’m nothing. Neither of you see me as a person. You don’t think I have feelings. I'm just a thing you can use and treat however you like. I guess I should be glad you didn’t change your mind about hitting me."
Hit her?
My fists ache. I want to punch the wall. Myself. Anything.
"I would never hit you.” My voice is rough, raw, unrecognizable. “I’d never let anyone hurt you. Ever.”
"No?” Her lips tremble. “Then it’s just my heart you don’t mind hurting.”
Don’t cry.
Please don’t cry.
I want to take it all back. Every hurtful word I told her. But I don’t. This was my goal and it’s done.
"If you want to see this as a prison, I can’t stop you. Just don’t confuse me with my father. We’re nothing alike when it comes to you.”
Her features close up. “Fine,” she says quietly. “Can I go back to my room now?”
“Feel free.”
She doesn’t look at me as she steps into her room and closes the door.
This is for the best, I remind myself, waiting for the relief to hit me.
It doesn’t. If anything, I feel worse than before, not a single weight lifted off my damn shoulder.
They feel heavier than they’ve ever felt in my entire life.
An hour later, I'm in the backroom at Alexei shop again. It’s the four of us.
"Who fucked you up?" Dimitri asks the second I walk in.
"Didn't sleep."
Alexei studies my face, leaning back in his chair. "None of us are sleeping well these days, but you do look like hell. I've never seen you like this.” He glances at the others. Doesn't he look like shit?"
Lev squints. "More than usual. Yeah."
Dimitri shrugs, uninterested in my personal problems. "Ivanov's face will always get him pussy, but that won’t matter if we end up dead. I only need his brain to work. Are we here to go over everything or did I waste my time?"
"My brain works fine, Dimitri."
Just not last night.
Or this morning.
We spend the next hour going over logistics. I'm focused, getting right down to business.
The meeting ends and I'm left alone. I have to go back and face her, deal with how badly I hurt her heart as she put it.
I can’t go back so soon. If I do, I’ll take one look at her and start saying sorry. I'll take it all back, undoing everything I set out to do. Not just the things I said this morning. Everything. How I’ve lived my life, no relationships, no weaknesses. I refuse to do that.
I get in my car, shift into gear and drive aimlessly until I end up on Tverskaya Street. Alexei was right about me. I do look like shit, but it’s not my face. It’s me, everything about me. What I am. What I do and what I’m about to do.
I park in front of a three-story townhouse that’s been here since Imperial Russia.
Nobility once lived here. Now it serves a different purpose.
High-end escorts. When I need to fuck, it’s here or another place near the river.
I don’t touch regular women. I don’t want or need any woman claiming I’m her baby’s father.
I enter the building and take the elevator to the third floor. A glass door with a small bell mounted beside it blocks the entrance. I stop, then press it before I can back out.
A woman I recognize answers. She sees me through the glass and opens the door, her face lighting up.
"Roman Ivanov. We haven't seen you in a while."
"I've been busy."
"Of course,” she says smoothly. “A man like you. I can only imagine."
She pours a courtesy shot of vodka. I down it in one swallow. The burn does nothing to settle the knot in my chest.
This is a mistake.
I should leave.
I can’t. I’m here and I’m committed. I need to make sure Nala didn't fuck me up completely.
"What are you in the mood for?” she asks. “We have two new girls that joined last week."
"Anyone. I don't care."
She smile fades. "Are you sure? Normally you're very specific about your preferences."
I grit my teeth. "Not today."
Her smile snaps back into place. "As you wish."
She makes a call, speaking quietly into the phone then hanging up. "Polina's one of our new girls. She’s twenty-four, a dancer and very eager to please. She’s also highly skilled. She'll be with you in ten minutes."
I wait in the private sitting area, eyeing the door, when a tall, leggy brunette appears. Polina.
She greets me with a sexy smile, does the usual introduction then leads me down the hallway to one of the private bedrooms.
I have to do this.
Polina turns to me, flashes another sultry grin before reaching behind her back for the zipper of her dress.
She peels it down slowly with practiced ease from doing this all day.
The dress falls. She’s naked underneath.
Her body is thin and athletic with firm breasts.
She twirls in a slow seductive manner, giving me the full view of her ass, before spinning back around to face me.
My cock doesn't even twitch.
She steps closer, sliding her hands down her body, playing with her breasts and rolling her nipples between her fingers. She strokes down her flat stomach to her pussy, touching herself. I hope she’s feeling something because I’m not.
My cock is asleep and has no interest in this show. Neither do I.
Her skin is pale, not warm brown. Her hair is the right color but the wrong texture, straight and fine, not the thick curls I want to wrap my fist around.
Her eyes are blue and empty, not the dark brown eyes that light up whenever I'm around, eyes that look at me with understanding and acceptance of all my demons and flaws.
She's not Nala.
I don't want to touch her.
Minutes pass. I vaguely register Polina whispering that she can suck my cock, help me get in the mood.
"No."
She moves closer anyway, reaching for my belt. "I'm very good at it. I promise you'll—"
"I said no." My voice drips with ice, harsh enough she flinches, backing away immediately.
I rise, open up my wallet and drop a wad of cash on the nightstand.
"But we didn't—"
I don't stay to listen. I make a quick exit out of the building and step into the cold street. Inside my car, I drop my forehead against the steering wheel. I lift it and look at myself in the mirror. What happened to me? How did I fuck myself over so badly?
I scrub a hand over my face, rubbing my temple. All I wanted was this girl to help me destroy my father and take down my enemies. That was it. Nothing more.
How and when did I lose control?
Bratva messes I can handle. Deal gone wrong, I can fix it. Too many questions being asked, I’ll take care of it. A girl I’m falling in love with… I’m so damn lost. I have no idea how to make it right. I drew a line today and set a fucking trap for myself.
Maybe I can buy her something to make up for it. I can’t buy chocolate, she has a lot in the kitchen. I tap my finger against the console, thinking.
Last year, Pasha’s wife kicked him out. The next morning, he was back in her bed thanks to a diamond and sapphire necklace.
Pasha’s a smart man. I could do the same for Nala.
We have a couple of jewelry stores all over the city.
The only problem… I’d need one with no Bratva ties and outside of Moscow.
I stop myself, recognizing the obvious flaw in my plan. Nala isn't like Milana, who loves luxury and makes constant demands for expensive gifts. I can’t buy my way out of this.
When I get back to the apartment it feels empty. She's not in the living room reading or practicing her Russian. She's not waiting for me.
I'm alone in the living room for some time, trying to find the best way to approach her, when her door finally opens.
She sees me. Her entire body stiffens, our gazes lock and she quickly looks away but not before I see the redness in her eyes.
I made her cry. My pchyolka. So damn sweet, patient and trusting even when I don’t deserve it.
She shuffles backward, ready to hide back inside her room. She stops herself, purses her lips and continues into the kitchen. I did this. I made her afraid to leave her room when I'm around.
"Hi."
She pours herself a glass of water, refusing to look at me. "Hi." Her voice is flat, so low I almost miss it.
"Was everything okay while I was gone?"
"Yes."
She turns toward her room and away from me. I despise this feeling, like a blade being jammed inside my heart. But I deserve this.
"Nala. Wait."
She freezes mid-step, her back to me, standing there like a robot waiting for a command.
I open my mouth, unsure what to say next apart from, "Did you eat?"
"Yes."
She goes into her room without another word, closing the door quietly behind her.
I'm left staring at her door again. An hour passes and I’m half losing my mind. I can’t take it anymore. I'm at her door, fist raised, ready to knock. I let it hover in mid-air.
I've never apologized to anyone. At least, not for anything significant. I’ve never had to explain myself outside of Bratva business to the Pakhan and I definitely never had to ask anyone for forgiveness.
Yet here I am. Knocking on Nala’s door about to do just that.
"What is it?" She opens it halfway, her body blocking the entrance.
"Can we talk?"
She looks at me and for a second I think she's going to ignore me. Reluctantly, she opens the door wider, slowly with caution as if I'm now a threat.
"Do you need me to read something for you?"
"No."
"Then there’s nothing to talk about.” She starts to close the door.
"Pchyolka, please,” I beg, desperate now. “Let me talk to you."
She tightens her fingers around the door handle. "Don't call me that.”
"Why not?"
"You know why. It sounds like you care about me." She blinks once, then twice. "We both know you don't."
She pushes the door shut. I shoot out my hand, stopping it.
"I have some things to say. Just let me in."
She lets go of the door and wraps her arms around herself. "Fine. It's your apartment. I can't stop you."
"No,” I shake my head. “This is your room. I want you to tell me it's okay.”
She wrinkles her brows, squinting at me. "What's wrong with you?" Her eyes search my face. "You want my permission? Roman, this doesn't sound like you."
"I know."
I let out a long, low sigh, no longer trying to hide anything.
"I've been thinking,” I say. “I realize I’m not as smart as I think I am.”
She stares at me, one tooth nibbling at her bottom lip. Seconds pass, before she makes up her mind, stepping aside. "Alright. You can come in."