29. Vladimir
Vladimir
Ishould be balls-deep in my wife right now.
But no—I have responsibilities.
I should at least be between her thighs, worshiping that sweet, addictive pussy of hers.
Or her ass.
Fuck.
Oh, great—now I’m rocking a full-blown boner in this cold-ass warehouse at 2:45 in the morning, surrounded by my men and dealing with work bullshit.
Instead of spending my night ruining Luna in every possible way, I’m here, freezing my dick off while waiting for Romeo fucking Leone to show up and collect the latest shipment of guns.
This is normally Dimitri’s job, but after the Vegas Incident last year, I left him at the club to keep an eye on things.
Because the last time Dimitri and Romeo got together unsupervised, Salvatore and I had to bail their dumbasses out of jail.
That was only a year ago.
And yet, I still have PTSD from that night.
"Hurry the fuck up!"
I yell at my men, impatience crawling under my skin like a goddamn parasite.
I know I’m being an asshole, but I don’t care.
Luna leaves for a mission this afternoon.
And she didn’t tell me how long she’d be gone.
I want every last second with her before she disappears.
This is the first time she’s heading back to work since we returned from our honeymoon three weeks ago.
I know she’s been itching to get back in the field, but Isabella tried to get her to wait longer—told her to settle into her new life first.
But now that she’s been cleared?
I feel like a goddamn child throwing a tantrum.
My wife and I are in a really good place right now.
I’ve gotten used to her being home when I get off “work.”
I’ve gotten used to crawling into bed next to her, waking up with her tucked into my side.
And now?
I feel like I don’t know what to do with my hands.
I would never ask her to give up her position, considering she’s making a difference.
And even if I were selfish enough to try?
I wouldn’t live to see the next day.
Konstantin mutters beside me, giving me a side-eye like I just grew a second head. "You’re in a mood, and that’s saying something coming from me."
I grunt. "I want to be home before Luna leaves for her mission."
He just stares at me, like I’ve got dicks drawn on my forehead.
"I thought people were supposed to come back from vacation... happy?"
I shoot him a look. "Konstantin, I will shoot you."
"Damn, she’s got you by the balls, Vova."
"Yes. And they should be getting choked on right now, but instead, I’m here talking to your ugly ass."
Before he can fire back, the sharp roar of an approaching engine shatters the silence, followed by the screech of tires.
Finally.
A sleek black Maserati MC20 rolls to a stop, its doors unlocking with a smooth click.
And out steps Romeo Leone, dressed like he just walked off the set of a high-stakes casino showdown—a tailored black suit, dark curls perfectly tousled, and that signature shit-eating grin firmly in place.
"Vladimir," he drawls, adjusting his cuffs. "A pleasure, as always."
I snort, arms crossed. "You’re late."
"Traffic," he smirks. "And by traffic, I mean my brother wouldn’t let me leave without giving me a whole damn lecture about not getting arrested again."
"Smart man."
Romeo grins, stepping closer. "Congratulations on the wedding, by the way. Sorry, I couldn’t make it."
"Yeah, well, considering you and Dimitri almost got married in Vegas the last time you were together, I’m not exactly shocked."
Konstantin chokes on a laugh.
"Oh, come on!" Romeo throws up his hands. "It wouldn’t have been a legal marriage! We just wanted the free drinks!"
"And yet, you both somehow ended up in a jail cell."
"Details, details," he waves me off before stepping toward the shipment crates. "Now, let’s see what we’ve got here."
One of my men pops open the first crate, revealing a lineup of pristine, high-grade firearms.
Romeo lets out a low whistle. "Damn, Petrov. You always have the best toys."
I smirk. "Only the best for my business partners."
He inspects a Glock 19X, testing the weight in his hands before cocking an eyebrow at me. "You still a Sig guy, or have you come to your senses?"
"Still a Sig guy," I reply smoothly. "And still capable of putting a bullet between your eyes if you keep talking shit."
"Relax, Bratva boss. I’m just admiring the goods."
He moves on, checking the rifles and ammo, nodding in approval.
"Everything looks clean," he finally says, tucking the Glock back in place. "I’ll have my guys load it up."
I nod, signaling to my men. "Make it quick. I have places to be."
Romeo smirks, arms crossed. "Let me guess. Your wife’s waiting for you at home, wrapped in a silk robe, maybe holding a glass of wine, all lonely and needy for her Pakhan?"
I narrow my eyes. "If you want to keep your teeth, shut the fuck up."
He throws his head back in laughter. "Oh, you are so fucking gone, man. Completely. Whipped."
"Go fuck yourself, Leone."
"Nah, I'm not my type."
I roll my shoulders, trying to keep my temper in check. "You’re lucky I like your brother."
"I know. I’m adorable."
Konstantin groans, rubbing his temples. "You’re both insufferable. Can we wrap this up before Vladimir spontaneously combusts from not being inside his wife for more than two hours?"
Romeo grins like the bastard he is, stepping back as his men begin loading the shipment.
"Fine, fine. Business first, then pleasure, right?"
I exhale sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"Just get your shit and get the fuck out, Leone."
"Always a pleasure, Petrov."
And with that, he hops back into his Maserati, the roaring engine drowning out his final, knowing smirk before he speeds off into the night.
I check my watch.
3:27 AM.
If I hurry, I can make it back home before Luna wakes up.
And after spending hours dealing with this bullshit, I plan to wake her up in the best way possible?—
With my mouth between her thighs and her screams echoing through our bedroom.
I don’t even bother saying goodbye to my men before I hop in my car.
Because my wife is waiting.
And I have a lot of making up to do.