Sergei
I’m in my office when Nelson’s text comes through.
She knows about the warehouse. Heard it from Anton. She’s calm. Too calm.
Here we go.
I knew this was coming. The fire made the news this morning—industrial accident, no casualties reported, investigation pending. The usual script when something needs to disappear quietly.
I hear the front door open. She doesn’t go upstairs. She’s coming straight for me.
I stand and pour myself a scotch, then pour a second and set it on the desk. Waiting.
She appears in the doorway. Not angry. I understand what Nelson meant. She walks to the desk, picks up the glass I poured for her, and drinks. Her eyes never leave mine.
I wait.
She sets the glass down with deliberate care. “You should have told me.”
“I got the call after you’d gone to bed.”
“My warehouse. My operation. My decision.” She says it like the queen she is, defending her territory. And damn, if it doesn’t make me want her even more.
“Your operation was harvesting organs from living people and selling them on the black market,” I say. “I’m not apologizing for shutting it down.”
“I’m not asking you to apologize for shutting it down.” She steps closer. “I’m telling you that you should have informed me. Before you acted. Not after.”
“There wasn’t time.”
“There’s always time for a phone call.”
“It’s done. I don’t do regrets when I know it’s the right choice.”
“Yuri is trying to take over my bratva,” she says, changing the subject. “He’s been systematically undermining me. Turning my people against me. Using my father’s operations to build his own power base.”
“I know. Do you want me to kill him?” I ask.
She laughs like I’ve made a joke.
Then she sees my face and the laughter dies.
“You’re serious.”
“Of course, I am.”
“We can’t just murder him.”
“We absolutely can.” I move around the desk, closing the distance between us. “If I was in your position, that’s exactly what I would do. Eliminate the threat. Send a message. Consolidate power.”
“That’s not—” She stops, shaking her head. “I’ll find another way.”
“What other way? He’s not going to stop, Sofia. He wants what you have. He thinks it belongs to him. The only way to end this is to end him.”
“I won’t become my father.”
“Your father would have killed Yuri the moment he stepped off the plane.” I lean against the desk. “You’re not your father. You’re better than him. But that doesn’t mean you can afford to be soft.”
“Killing him isn’t the answer.”
“Then what is?”
She doesn’t have one. I see her struggling with it. The good person she wants to be versus the ruthless leader she needs to be.
“You may get to run your businesses without my interference,” I say carefully. “But when that business crosses into mine, I will handle it.”
Her eyes narrow. “Clarification.”
“You.” The word is harsh. “You’re mine, Sofia. My wife. My responsibility. If Yuri hurts you, I hurt Yuri. That’s not negotiable.”
“I’m not asking for your protection.”
“You married me for exactly that reason.”
“I married you for an alliance.”
“You married me because you knew I would keep you alive.” I move closer, crowding her space. “And I will. Whether you like my methods or not.”
She tilts her head back to maintain eye contact. “You don’t get to make unilateral decisions about my life.”
“I already have. Multiple times. And I’ll do it again.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I’m effective.” I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
She doesn’t pull away. “I know you want to believe there’s a clean way out of this.
That you can outsmart Yuri or outmaneuver him or convince the other families to side with you.
Maybe you can. But if you can’t, I’m going to do what needs to be done. ”
“And if I tell you not to?”
“Then we’ll have a problem.”
She stares at me. I watch her process this. Watch her calculate her options.
“I want to try it my way first,” she says finally.
“Fine.”
“You mean that?”
“I mean I’ll give you time to try. But if he makes a move on you—if he gets anywhere near you—all bets are off.”
She nods slowly. “That’s fair.”
“I’m not trying to take over your operation, Sofia. I’ve told you that. I don’t need to absorb the Baranov empire or strip you of your power. Again, I’m trying to keep you alive so you can actually run it.”
“I know.” Her voice is softer now. “I know you are. It’s just—"
“Hard to trust anyone.”
“Yes.”
I pull her against me. She resists for half a second, then melts into my chest. Her arms come up to wrap around my waist.
“I hate that you’re always right,” she mutters against my shirt.
“I’m not always right.”
“You think you are.”
“I think I have more experience navigating this world than you do.”
She pulls back enough to look up at me. “Teach me.”
“What?”
“Teach me how to do this. How to be what I need to be.” Her eyes are fierce. Determined. “I don’t want to be managed or protected like I’m fragile. I want to learn. I want to be able to handle threats myself.”
This is what I’ve been waiting for. Not the compliance. Not the obedience. This—the fire. The willingness to become dangerous.
“Alright,” I say. “But you’re not going to like it.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ll have to get your hands dirty.”
“I know.”
I hold her gaze. “If you want to run a criminal empire, you need to understand every aspect of it. Death is part of this world.”
“I’ve seen death.”
“You’ve witnessed it. You haven’t caused it.” I cup her face in my hands. “There’s a difference. And once you cross that line, you can’t come back.”
“I don’t want to come back.”
I study her face. Looking for hesitation. For fear.
I don’t find it.
“Okay.”
She reaches up and pulls my mouth down to hers.
The kiss is hungry. Desperate. She’s using me to forget everything else.
I let her. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.
I lift her onto the desk, stepping between her thighs. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer. My hands slide up her sides, pushing her shirt up and over her head.
“Here?” she breathes.
“Here.” I make quick work of her bra. “Now. No one will bother us.”
She reaches for my belt. Her fingers fumble with the buckle. I cover her hands with mine, helping her.
“I need you,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“I want to do something,” she says on a moan. My tongue slashes across her ear.
“What do you want?”
She pushes me back.
It kills me, but I step back. One day I’ll be able to push, but not yet.
“Take off your pants,” she orders.
Not what I expected.
I strip off my belt and let it drop to the floor. My hands move to my pants, and I watch her eyes follow every movement. I unbutton them slowly, letting the anticipation build. When I push them down along with my boxers, her breath catches.
She’s on her knees before I can process what’s happening.
“Sofia—” My voice comes out like I’ve been gargling shards of glass.
“Shh.” She looks up at me and I recognize what's in her eyes. It’s not fear. Not even desire. It’s ambition.
Oh, clever girl.
She doesn’t want to be handled.
She wants my control in her hands.
“Let me.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Her hand wraps around my cock. I have to lock my knees to keep standing. She strokes me once, twice, unhurried, like she has all the time in the world to figure out exactly what undoes me. Then she leans forward and runs her tongue along the head.
“Fuck.” The word escapes before I can stop it.
She’s tentative at first, exploring with her tongue. But then she grows bolder, taking me deeper. Her hand works what doesn’t fit in her mouth. The combination makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
She’s too good at this.
But I know she’s never been with a man.
Has she managed to sneak off with a man? Have her lips been around another man’s cock?
White-hot fury floods my veins.
I grab her hair, wrapping it around my fist and pull her off me, forcing her to look up.
She’s startled. “You’re stopping me?”
The anger leaves me with that simple question.
“No.”
I consider asking how she knows how to do this so well, but her hand is still wrapped around the base of my throbbing cock. Pure pleasure courses through me, and the question dissolves.
Her attention returns to pleasuring me.
Mine. Only mine. I will be the only man she ever touches.
And fuck if she doesn’t look beautiful with my cock in her mouth.
I thread my fingers through her hair, not guiding, just needing to touch her. She hums around me, and the vibration nearly undoes me.
Then her eyes lift to mine, steady and searching, like she’s studying every crack she’s putting in me.
“Careful, princess.” My grip tightens in her hair. “Keep looking at me like that, and you’ll start thinking you can ruin me.”
Satisfaction flashes in her eyes before she hollows out her mouth and sucks all the way up to the tip.
“Sofia,” I warn. “I’m close.”
She doesn’t pull away. She takes the warning like a challenge, her other hand cupping my balls, and that’s it. I’m done.
My orgasm rips through me before I can do a damn thing to stop it, tearing a guttural sound from my throat I don’t recognize as my own. She swallows it all, her eyes never leaving my face.
When she finally releases me, I’m shaking.
She stands, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb. The gesture is so casually erotic I nearly come again.
“Good?” she asks.
Good.
My wife has no idea what a useless little word that is.
“Good doesn’t begin to cover it.” I pull her against me, kissing her hard. I taste myself on her tongue and it only makes me want her more.
My hands go to the button of her jeans. I have them undone and pushed down her thighs in seconds. She kicks them off along with her panties.
“Turn around,” I growl. “Bend over the desk.”
She does, and the sight of her bare ass makes my spent cock twitch with interest. I give myself thirty seconds to recover. That’s all I need when it comes to her.
I bite down on her shoulder with my fingers working inside her.
“I really like when you do that,” she murmurs.
“Yeah? What about this?”
I slap her ass. It’s a risk, but her body shudders.
“Yes.”
My cock is ready. This woman makes me feel eighteen again.
“You know what I think?” I ask.
“No.”
“I think you like it rough.”
She sucks in a breath. “Maybe.”
“Soon buntarka,” I promise.
I position myself behind her, running my hands over the curve of her ass. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“Spread your legs,” I order.
She does. I can see how wet she is. Ready for me.
I line myself up and push inside in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the desk.
“Too much?” I ask, even though I’m not stopping.
“No. God, no. Don’t stop.”
I don’t plan to.
I fuck her hard and fast, my fingers digging into her hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the office. Papers scatter to the floor. I don’t care.
“Sergei,” she moans. “Oh God, Sergei.”
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Say my name. Let everyone in this house know who’s fucking you.”
She cries out louder. I feel her tighten around me.
“That’s my wife,” I say roughly. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
And she does, breaking apart around me with a cry that punches straight through my control. I come seconds later, burying myself inside her.
I collapse forward, catching myself on my hands so I don't crush her. We're both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat.
I pull out slowly and help her stand. Her legs are shaking. I steady her, then pull her into my arms.
I smile against her skin. This woman is going to be the death of me. And I'm perfectly fine with that.
From what I know, she's not on birth control. I would know. I know everything about her life.
The thought that she could be carrying my child hits with a violence I don't expect.
Not lust.
Terror.
Because if Sofia is mine, I protect her.
If she's carrying my child, I become something worse.
We get dressed in silence, stealing glances at each other like teenagers. When we’re both decent, I pull her against me. “From now on, you’ll sleep in my bed.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to argue. I stare at her.
“I really hate that you’re so bossy.”
“No, you don’t.”
She shakes her head and steps away. “I’m hungry.”
I almost smile.
She has no fucking idea what she just set in motion.