CHAPTER 13
Rodian
Opening the front door, a smile spreads over my face as I watch my family get out of the armored sedan.
Artem has a huge grin as he runs toward me, and when he plows into my chest, I wrap him up in a tight hug.
“I missed you,” he chuckles. Just as quickly, he pulls back and begins to ramble, “I saw bugs that look like sticks and big moths and waterfalls and a hole in the ocean.” He shudders, his eyes big and filled with excitement. “It was scary to see.”
Patting his cheek, I say, “I’m happy to hear you had fun.” Stepping past him, I hug my mother, father, and aunt, then announce, “I know you must all be tired from the long flight, but we have something serious to discuss before you get settled.”
As I walk to the living room, they all follow me, and when I gesture for them to sit, I’m given a combination of worried and curious looks.
“Remember Anastasia?”
How could they not. My family watched me mourn a woman I only met once for years.
After they all nod, I say, “I’ve found her, but things are very complicated. She’s Yegor’s granddaughter and a rogue group had her for give or take ten days, so she’s… she’s recovering.”
I don’t want to go into details, especially seeing as my parents and Artem aren’t used to violence. I’ll speak separately to Aunt Marina, as she’s from the Bratva and knows how ugly things can get.
Mom gasps, lifting a hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe you found her after all these years.”
Aunt Marina’s eyes narrow. “She’s a Fedorov? How do we know she wasn’t sent to seduce you?”
I level my aunt with a glare, not sparing her my anger just because she’s family. “Don’t be stupid. We’ll talk alone in a minute.”
She bristles and lowers her head submissively.
Glancing at my other family members, I say, “I’m marrying Anastasia in ten days.
I know it doesn’t leave a lot of time to arrange everything, but I’ve put a team of people together to help.
There will be around a hundred guests, excluding the army, which will all be here to protect you and keep the peace. ”
“My God!” Mom exclaims. “Ten days leaves no time.”
“We’ll make it happen.” Determination laces my tone. “I need you all to be gentle with Anastasia. She’s been through a lot and struggles with anxiety and coming to terms with everything. She’s English, so be respectful of her and don’t speak Russian around her.”
Artem seems to lose interest, and getting up, he wanders out of the living room while touching his thumb to each of his fingers in a repeated motion that helps keep him calm.
With him gone, I say, “Yelena and the rest of Anastasia’s family were killed in front of her, and even though her family mistreated her, it had to be fucking traumatic to see.
She was starved for a week and a half and tortured, so be patient and comforting.
You all know what she’s meant to me since our time in England, and it’s the most important thing for me right now that you welcome her to the family.
Even though it’s a forced marriage, it will be a true marriage in every sense. ”
“Forced?” Aunt Marina asks. “Anastasia doesn’t return your feelings?”
“We haven’t had time to get to know each other again,” I tell her. “Right now, the wedding is happening to set Yegor’s associates at ease and to bring peace to the Bratva. Anastasia isn’t happy about the arrangement, but she’ll go through with it.”
“Why, though?”
Getting annoyed with my aunt, I bark, “Because I fucking say so!”
“I apologize, Rodian.” She stands up and comes closer. “I just want to understand Anastasia better.”
Taking a calming breath, I explain, “She will marry me because she has no choice, but afterward she’ll see it’s for the best. Don’t interfere with my relationship with Anastasia.
Just be there for her.” I let out a sigh.
“That’s even if she lets you. People have treated her like shit her whole life, so it might take time for her to warm up to you all. ”
My phone rings, interrupting the meeting, and digging it out of my pocket, I see Andrei’s name.
“That will be all for now. Welcome home.” Leaving the living room, I put the device to my ear. “How are things?”
“Too quiet. All the captains have informed me there have been no further attacks in their areas. I don’t trust the silence.”
“It’s because I sent out invitations to the wedding. Zubkov, Yeltsin, and Popov already RSVP’d. I’m still waiting for Sokolov to respond. The fucker is just as stubborn as Yegor was.”
“It’s because they were best friends. I’d be murderous if someone took you out. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll ever back down.”
“I know. I just wanted to show the other three I’m willing to sign a truce. If Sokolov refuses, it’s on him.”
Andrei lets out a sigh. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”
“Good. I employed Tamara’s services, so she’s arranging everything.
My mom and aunt are home, so they’ll probably help.
” I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and as I walk past the window, movement catches my eye.
Seeing Artem and Anastasia, I stop dead in my tracks. “I have to go. Talk to you later.”
Ending the call, I rush to the back door but pause when neither of them runs away from each other. Artem’s standing near a flower bed, scratching his head and looking unsure, while Anastasia has her arms tightly wrapped around her, biting her bottom lip nervously.
Suddenly Artem holds his arms out and moves his thumb to touch each of his finger pads. “It helps me. Try it.”
Slowly, Anastasia moves, repeating the action. “Like this?” Her voice is so fucking soft and sweet, the way I remember it, and it grips my heart in a vice.
There’s no fear between the two, and as Artem inches closer to her, I’m surprised.
“Yes.” A shy smile tugs at my cousin’s mouth, then he points at the garden. “Also, I spend time with plants.” His shoulders curl forward. “They won’t hurt you.” He points at some of the bruises that are taking longer to heal on Anastasia’s legs. “Like that.”
He darts away from her and begins to name the different plants in the garden, and when she follows him, I step out of the kitchen. Keeping my distance from them, I watch to make sure their first encounter doesn’t end in disaster.
But my worry is for nothing, because Anastasia either senses that Artem is no threat to her at all or has taken an instant liking to his boyish innocence.
Just then my cousin notices me, and scratching his head again, he says, “I’m showing her the garden.”
Anastasia swings around, and when her features tighten again, I hate it.
“Did you tell her about the bugs you saw in Mauritius?”
“No!” Excitement lights up his face. “I brought one. I found it dead on the ground.” He digs a tissue out of his pocket and folds it open, then shoves it under Anastasia’s nose. “It looks like a stick.”
I’m in for another surprise when she lets out a chuckle, and taking hold of Artem’s wrist, she pulls his arm back so she can see better. My entire body tenses because Artem doesn’t like strangers touching him at all.
Instead of running away to hide, he moves even closer and points at the bug. “When they’re in shrubs, you have to look carefully or you’ll miss them. I found fourteen.” Another shy smile tugs at his mouth. “They couldn’t hide from me.”
“Wow, so you’re the best when it comes to finding bugs?”
His cheeks turn red, and looking down, he fidgets with the pocket of his jeans. “Yes.” Turning around, he hightails it around the corner of the house, leaving me alone with Anastasia.
“I’ve never seen Artem take to a person like that before. He’s very people-shy and suffers from severe anxiety,” I tell Anastasia, and as our eyes meet, I add, “But just like with me, you’ve made him fall in love with you in a split second.”
She glances away as she murmurs, “He’s sweet.”
The tension is back in her body and voice, and she folds her arms around her middle.
When I sent men to Yelena’s house in the country to get Anastasia’s belongings, they only returned with a security safe. Everything else was lost because the rogue group ransacked the place before setting it on fire.
At least the steel box contained all the important documents, including Anastasia’s British ID, passport, and birth certificate.
I sent Miss Zoya shopping for some clothes, and seeing Anastasia in a light green dress, her curves filling out again, there’s a strong pull of attraction in my chest, and my cock threatens to harden.
“You look beautiful. I’m glad you’re gaining back the weight you lost.”
Her eyes snap to mine, and for a second, she just stares at me. Then her gaze drops to the dress, and she nervously smooths her hands over her soft stomach. “You’re… glad?”
The disbelief in her voice hits me hard, and I hate what the assholes have done to her self-confidence. If it’s the last thing I do, I swear I will restore it to its former glory.
“Of course I am,” I murmur.
Her brow furrows as she looks at me again, like I’ve said something that makes absolutely no sense to her.
Taking a wild fucking chance, I lower my voice so it will be seductive. “You were exactly my type the moment I saw you, krasivaya.” I let my eyes drift over her before meeting her gaze again. “I love your full curves. Your softness. Everything about your body and personality appeals to me.”
She blinks at me. “You like… my size?”
“Very fucking much.” A smile tugs at my mouth. “Do I need to remind you how difficult it was for me to let go of you when I kissed you outside the theater?” I step closer. “You had to walk away from me. I couldn’t make myself leave for close to fifteen minutes.”
“Really?” she whispers, her green gaze wide on me.
Hooking my arm around her back, I step into her personal space. When I cup her cheek, keeping her eyes imprisoned, her breaths start to come faster, and I notice her pulse fluttering.
“One look was all it took to fall head over heels for you, Anastasia. It felt like I was in the presence of the greatest work of art ever created.” My thumb brushes lightly over her bottom lip.
“I should’ve listened to my gut that day and kidnapped you.
” Shaking my head, I soak in how fucking perfect her skin feels beneath my fingertips. “You owe me a date.”
Her eyes begin to shimmer with unshed tears, and turning her face to the side, she fights for control of her emotions. Lifting her arms, she places her hands on my biceps, then her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, and a hard tremor racks through her.
My voice is hoarse as I ask, “Will you have dinner with me at seven?”
A sob sputters from her, and moving closer, she presses her face to my chest. “I was so excited to go on that date with you.”
I lean down and press a kiss to her hair while holding her tighter. “Me too, moya krasavitsa.”
As my woman cries softly in my arms, every tear fills my heart. I keep kissing her golden blond strands, giving her the time she needs.
I’m just fucking thankful she’s starting to let me in.