Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alyona
As we pull up a small driveway, we arrive at a large wooden gate. Z lowers his window and inputs a number he reads from a folder into the keypad. The gate starts to open, revealing a spacious house with warm cream bricks, dark wooden accents, and a terracotta sloped roof. It’s stunning.
“What is this place?” I ask. Maybe it’s a private hotel or something.
“It’s our new house,” Z says, “and next is a new car. This one is a box of crap.” He holds up a knob that fell off a vent when he tried to move it and shakes his head at Rodion.
“Seriously? Again?” Rodion teases, a playful smirk spreading across his face as he takes in Z’s irritation. The sight makes my heart stammer.
They decided going for their rental was better than us bringing my car here in case the person tailing Vika took down my plate when he was watching the house, or worse, put a tracking device on it.
“Your new house as in, you own it?” I ask in disbelief.
It’s enormous, two or three times the size of Jeremiah’s house and they’ve only been in the states for five damn minutes.
“Yes,” they say in eerie unison.
“It has a water fountain,” I exclaim, staring out the window at the circular fountain with a fancy sprout at the center, sitting in the middle of the driveway.
“And a pool so Rodion can stop complaining about the heat.” Z chuckles, playfully knocking his fist into Rodion’s shoulder.
“I don’t like to sweat,” Rodion deadpans, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Not while wearing clothes anyway.” He shoots Z a wink, and the implication sends flutters in my lower stomach. An influx of memories invading my mind.
Shaking my head to clear it, I whisper to Roza who's peering up at me from her carseat, “They have a pool.”
Frowning at me in the rearview mirror, Z asks, “You remember we’re rich, right?” There’s a playful glint in his eye that warms parts of me that have been long frozen.
I know they’re rich, but to put down roots like this must mean they plan on making a real life here.
“We needed a home here and now we have one. We have one, Alyona.” He holds my stare until I nod my head in understanding. I’m part of the “we.”
But for how long? And is it just because of Roza or… I don’t dare let hope trickle in.
Getting out of the car, Rodion rushes to Roza’s door and unbuckles her.
He’s been adamant that I shouldn’t lift her until my stomach has healed a little.
Earlier, when I changed her diaper, I found that Rodion had changed her into a one that was back to front.
If I told anyone who knows the madmen that they made a bottle and did a diaper change, they’d be calling me the mad one.
“Thanks,” I say to Z as he opens my door and extends his hand. As I climb out of the car, I remove the sweater and toss it onto the seat. It belonged to Jeremiah, and I don’t want to take anything of his into their house.
A wide porch stretches across the front of the house, decorated with potted plants that, unless they hire a gardener, won’t live long because none of us know how to take care of plants. I can keep a human alive, but not a plant.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking in the vast place.
“Let’s go look inside,” Z instructs. “We’ve only seen it in pictures.”
Entering the house, we wander around, taking it in. The spacious rooms flow seamlessly into one another. They each have high ceilings and large windows, and despite the heat outside, the place feels cool and homely.
“It came furnished,” I note, as I place the diaper bag on a large oak table and then take a seat on one of the chairs, tucking my leg beneath me.
“I wanted to be able to focus on the club and we can change anything we don’t like later,” Z tells me as he carries in Roza’s highchair and flips it open.
Rodion places her in it, taking her hand and blowing raspberries, which makes her giggle.
It makes me drenched with guilt for depriving her of their devotion.
There’s nothing like it in the world. I stole that from her for the first year of her life.
I believe I did it for the right reasons, but it still feels shitty as hell.
“I’ll bring in the rest of her stuff,” he tells Z, ruffling Roza’s hair before he leaves.
Taking my hand to get my attention, Z squeezes. “You’re going to be safe here, both of you. I have a security company coming out first thing tomorrow morning to put in a state-of-the-art system. A fucking spider won’t be able to come onto the property without us knowing about it.”
I trust him, but we didn’t think anyone would reach us at their apartment either. All it took was one of Yuri’s henchmen to follow the maid there. I don’t want to live my life constantly worrying about who might be sneaking in our room in the dead of night.
I’m tired of worrying. Tired of cowering. So fucking tired.
I’ve made up my mind.
I’m going to kill Yuri Vasiliev.
Rosetta won’t return my calls or texts. It sucks that she’s the casualty in all this, but it’s her choosing to cut us off, not the other way around. A rush of awareness trickles down my spine before Rodion’s voice cuts through the room.
“She can have her own room, Alyona. The house has six bedrooms,” he tells me, looking around the room I chose for us. It has a queen bed and plenty of space for Roza’s crib that Z wasted no time putting up.
After placing my phone on the bedside table, I shrug and rub my hands down my sides to remove the clamminess.
Rodion hasn’t said much to me apart from scolding me whenever I attempt to lift anything.
There’s this tension, like he’s trying to be civil for the sake of Roza and my injuries, but he’s still pissed and doesn’t know how to juggle the two.
“I’ll just feel better with her in with me for now.” I look over at her sleeping form and put a finger to my lips pointing to the hallway.
Once outside the bedroom, I pull the door to, and he leans against the wall surveying me from head to toe. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” I slip my hands in the pockets of my shorts, so I stop fidgeting. “A lot better.” I add the last bit when he keeps staring at me as though I’m holding back my true feelings.
Why does this feel so awkward and forced? I hate it.
“Listen, I know this isn’t what we planned with the three of us forced back together like this.” His voice trails off, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
“It won’t be forever,” I finish for him, my stomach sinking.
I hate that I’ve needed them to come to my rescue nonstop. I’m a fucking burden. Dropping a kid on them, a dead boyfriend, and now I’ve moved into their new house. I know Z wants me here but Rodion, I’m not so sure.
The pulse in his jaw flickers with annoyance. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he tilts his head slightly. His demeanor is so effortlessly dominant that it makes me feel breathless beneath his unwavering attention.
“Do you honestly believe that?” The intensity in his voice leaves no room for hesitation, and before I can gather my thoughts to form a response, he continues. “Roza is ours. She belongs here with us.”
I didn’t know a few simple words could give me so much anxiety, but my heart starts to race.
Would he take her from me?
Pushing off the wall, he leans his imposing frame over mine, breath warm and alluring. He licks his lips slowly, a predatory gleam in his darkening eyes that sends a shiver down my spine and a pulse between my thighs.
Damn these fucking men.
“So, you better get used to living here,” he says with unnerving confidence.
“Because it is forever, whether you want it to be or not.” The deep timbre of his voice rumbles from his vocal cords, each word laced with the promise or the threat.
I can’t tell which and that both excites and terrifies me.
No more running.
I quietly slip back inside the low-lit room, feeling the cool air from the AC brush against my skin as I climb into bed.
I stare up at the ceiling, my mind racing while struggling to fall asleep.
The minutes stretch into an hour, filled only with the sound of my restless thoughts and Roza's settled breathing.
Suddenly, the door creaks open, and both Rodion and Z quietly enter, their silhouettes highlighted by the soft blue glow of the moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains.
“What are you doing?” I whisper into the stillness.
The mattress dips as they both climb into bed, Z beside me and Rodion next to him. We’re packed in like a trio of fucked-up sardines.
“Sleeping,” Z proclaims with a hint of humor in his voice as he stretches out his limbs in an attempt to get comfortable. “And we’re definitely buying a new fucking bed first thing tomorrow morning because this one was clearly made for tiny people.”
“Why in here?” I urge, rolling my eyes.
The bed feels impossibly small compared to how enormous they both are. His weight presses firmly against my side, and I have to resist the overwhelming urge to lean into the warmth radiating from him. The familiar scent wraps around me like a security blanket.
Damn, this is going to be torture.
“Because it’s where you are,” he replies casually, as if the answer couldn’t be more obvious.
“Go to sleep,” Rodion commands, his tone brooking no argument. He punches a pillow before stuffing it under his head, then casually slings his arm over Z’s waist. Their bodies fit together naturally, their legs intertwining as if they were meant to be this way.
How on earth am I supposed to sleep like this? With their warmth and closeness so palpable, my thoughts race with indecent thoughts. Yet, despite my worries, exhaustion claims me almost immediately, dragging me down into a deep, peaceful sleep.