CHAPTER 9
Anastasia
Lethargic and confused, it takes me a moment to focus on Rodian’s face. Leaning over me, he’s dangerously close, and my pulse begins to race.
His grim expression is scary, his features drawn tight and his mouth set in a hard line. His blue eyes are so sharp and icy, I struggle to look into them.
Fear floods me, making my head spin, and it takes a lot of effort to cling to consciousness. Fading in and out, his face blurs and I’m only able to make a soft, distressed whimper.
“Shh.” It sounds sinister, only amping up my fear, and when I try to move, Rodian grips me by the shoulders and orders, “Stay still. You need to rest.”
I lose my ability to focus, and when it returns, it’s to feel his lips pressing to my forehead. His voice is low and deep as he says, “You’ll feel better soon.”
When he pulls back and his eyes meet mine, I glance to the side and barely take in the bedroom that’s decorated in cream and burgundy colors.
I swear the man is staring into my soul, and feeling very unnerved, I peek at him again. His brown hair is still up in a manbun, the loose strands hanging in his face that’s older than I remember.
Once more, I find it impossible to accept that the man in the last happy memory I have and the pakhan of the Bratva are the same person.
My dry lips part, my tongue swiping over them before I hoarsely ask, “Did you know… who I was… when we… met?”
Rodian shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have let you walk away from me had I known you were Yegor’s granddaughter.”
When he brings his hand to my face, I flinch. It doesn’t stop him from brushing his palm over my cheek, and I look away again.
“What happened after we parted ways at the theater?” It sounds more like an order than a question.
“Ms. Fedorova was waiting for me… when I got home.” My tone sounds forlorn, and I feel completely broken. “My grandfather rejected me… and I was forced to work as her maid… until your men…”
The past five years hit me all at once. I’ve tried so hard to remain strong through all the abuse and hopelessness, but it becomes too much for me to handle.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and unable to control my breathing, I gasp while it feels as if something heavy is crushing my chest.
Rodian hauls me up into a sitting position, then his arms form steel bands around me as he holds me tightly.
When a painful sob tears through me, I fear I’m going to pass out from the lack of air.
“You’re safe now, Anastasia.” His voice rumbles above my head. “I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
God, what I would’ve given to hear those words before I knew he was the pakhan.
The thought drifts through the panic clouding my mind, then everything goes black.
Rodian
Suddenly, Anastasia slumps in my hold, and her ragged breaths instantly slow down.
Pulling her away from my chest so I can see her face, I realize she’s passed out. I should lay her down again, but instead, I settle her back against me and place my hand behind her head to support her.
Finally holding her after such a long time, I find it next to impossible to let go.
The attraction and love I felt for her settled down over the years, but now that I have her back, they hit me full force. It’s as if they’ve grown in the dark corner I shoved them into instead of withering away.
Just like the first time I got to hug her, it feels like she’s always been meant to be in my arms.
A soft knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see Miss Zoya coming into the room.
“Your guest has arrived, Mr. Volkov.”
I was so absorbed in Anastasia that I completely lost track of time. Moving slowly, I carefully lay her down and adjust the covers over her.
Leaving the bedside lamp on, I walk out of the room and head down the stairs. When the foyer comes into view and I see Atanas dressed in a tailored suit, I say, “I have to apologize for my appearance. It’s been a busy day.”
The Bulgarian grins as he gives me a once-over. “By the looks of it, you had fun killing people. Who were the unlucky bastards?”
After shaking hands, I gesture toward the dining room, and only once we’ve taken our seats do I reply, “A rogue group who took it upon themselves to kill Yegor’s daughter and other family members.”
Atanas’ eyebrow lifts, his expression turning serious. “That’s going to shake things up even more in the Bratva.”
Miss Zoya comes in and asks, “Can I serve the usual drinks?”
I glance at Atanas. “Are you okay with vodka?”
“Yes.”
We wait for my housekeeper to pour the drinks, and before she leaves, she mentions, “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Once she’s gone, Atanas asks, “Do you need backup?”
We stare at each other for a moment, then I shake my head. “I have an ace up my sleeve that will make Yegor’s associates calm the fuck down.”
A curious expression settles on his face. “What?”
The alliance between us means a lot to me, but the protective streak Anastasia awakens in me makes me hesitate to talk about her.
Looking more intrigued by the second, Atanas chuckles. “It must be one hell of an ace if you’re reluctant to share it.” He picks up the tumbler and takes a sip before adding, “I’m not about to fuck with our relationship, Rodian. Friends are rare in our world, and your success will be my success.”
Atanas Petkov isn’t known to say things like that lightly. He’s worked his ass off to get where he is today and was one of the first to successfully ward off a war with the Cosa Nostra by forming an alliance with them.
Picking up my vodka, I hold it between us, and once we’ve clinked glasses and each had a sip, I say, “I have Yegor’s granddaughter.”
Surprise flickers over his face. “Christ, I wasn’t aware he had a granddaughter. I assume she’s Yelena’s kid?”
I nod. “But she’s not a kid. Anastasia’s twenty-five…” I take a deep breath, then drop the most important part, “and unmarried.”
Grinning, he lets out a chuckle. “A marriage between you and her would be one hell of a power move.” Agreeing, I incline my head, then he adds, “I better be invited to the wedding.”
“Of course.”
He leans his elbows on the table. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “I don’t care who else is invited from the Cosa Nostra, but make sure Raya Torrisi is on the guest list. I know she’s not a capo, but she won’t be able to refuse a direct invite from you.”
My eyebrows lift, and it’s my turn to chuckle as I ask, “Are you interested in her?”
He nods. “But she’s stubborn, so I have to manipulate things to get my way.”
“Then I’ll be more than happy to help.”
Miss Zoya brings in the food and serves fresh black rye bread with butter, beef stroganoff over creamy mashed potatoes, sans mushrooms, and pelmeni with a generous dollop of sour cream.
“Enjoy,” she murmurs before coming to me. Leaning down, she whispers near my ear, “Our other guest is awake, and I got her to eat a small bowl of soup.”
“Stay with her,” I order softly, giving my housekeeper a thankful look.
After she leaves, Atanas smiles at the food. “No vegetables. Thank you.”
“You’re going to die of a heart attack,” I mutter. “That’s what my mother would say if she were here right now.”
Laughing, he helps himself to a slice of bread and smears butter over it. “Fuck that shit. I’m strong as an ox.”
“Famous last words.”
While we enjoy the meal and talk about business, my thoughts keep straying to Anastasia, and by the time we have our after-dinner drinks, I’m in a hurry to get back to her.
“When will you be ready to take orders?” Atanas asks as he sets down his empty tumbler.
“Now. What are you looking for?”
“A thousand AK-12s, two hundred and fifty PKMs, five hundred PP-19s, and eight hundred MP-433s. How long will it take?”
“Two to four weeks, depending on how quickly I can get four other warehouses and factories up and running.”
“I can work with that.”
Climbing to our feet, we leave the dining room, and as we step into the foyer, I say, “Thank you for coming to dinner.
Just then, Anatas’ phone rings, and while he digs it out of his pocket, he replies, “I enjoyed it.” He grins at the screen, then shows me who the caller is.
As he waves and heads out the front door, I hear him say, “Constantin, miss me already?” He takes the steps down from the porch and gives his guards a chin lift, indicating they’re leaving. “I just had dinner with Rodian… aww, are you jealous? We’ll invite you next time.”
The corner of my mouth lifts as I watch him get into his car, and as I shut the front door, I think about the information I shared with him.
Too late, I realize there’s no backing out of the wedding now, not unless I want to look like a fool.
Anastasia is probably not going to be too happy with being forced into a marriage after everything she’s been through.
She liked me once and can learn to do so again.
“It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” I mutter as I head up the stairs so I can shower and change out of the combat clothes.
While walking down the hallway, I dig my phone out and send Andrei a text.
Rodian: How are things at the factory?
I grab a black pair of cotton pajama pants and a matching T-shirt from the closet, and as I go into the bathroom, I feel my phone vibrate.
Checking it, I see an update from my friend.
Andrei: It’s a fucking shit show. They’re still burying all the bodies in the field out back. I seriously think we should demolish the entire place and rebuild.
Rodian: You do what you feel is best with the factory. Set it on fire for all I care. Be careful out there.
Andrei: I will. See you tomorrow.
Setting the device down on the counter, I turn on the faucets in the shower, and while the water warms, I strip out of my clothes.
As I wash the day off, my thoughts return to Anastasia, and in a hurry to get back to her, I move faster.