Nikolai
My wife is ignoring me.
My fingers clench at my sides as I watch my wife walk into our house, her shoulder subtly grazing mine as she steps into the living room, just enough for me to catch the sweet scent of cherries and vanilla she leaves in her wake.
That fucking scent had been engraved in my mind all morning, and after last night, I determined I never wanted to get away from it. I wanted it everywhere I was, and I was willing to have it engraved in my fucking veins if I had to.
I could think of every word in the dictionary but none would do justice to how absolutely devastating last night had been for me. I’d been wrecked in more ways than one and my wife was the only one with the ability to put me back together. Her soft whimpers of pleasure had filled my head and haunted my mind, making it impossible for me to focus on anything else.
I watch her ascend the staircase, admiring the denim of her jeans clinging to her curves, the sway of hips equal parts mesmerizing and tempting. She glides effortlessly without so much as a hitch in her step and I can’t help but feel captivated by her like I always am whenever she steps into a room.
She hasn’t said a word to me since we got off the flight. I thought she’d eventually break in the car but she’d stubbornly kept her lips pressed shut.
My wife was giving me the cold shoulder, and as much as her silence bothered me, I could not be angry at her.
I’d fucked up.
Leaving my wife alone in bed wasn’t something I wanted to do especially given what happened between us last night. I knew she’d want answers to what happens next, and I was willing to have that discussion, but when duty calls, I have the responsibility to answer, which is exactly what happened last night.
I received a call from Dmitri last night concerning the latest outcome of the Riga operation. Usually, he was in charge of ensuring everything went smoothly each year, but I could tell by the urgency of Tatiana’s voice that something had gone wrong.
And I was right. Dmitri had one too many drinks during his daughter’s wedding and ended up having to go to the hospital after he forgot his cane and lost his balance. It sounded ridiculous, but the situation had somehow spiralled out of control, leaving me to clean up the mess.
I tried so many times during the ride home to explain why I wasn’t there when she woke up, but each time the words would try to leave my mouth, I’d swallow them back. The moment we arrived home she was out of the car without so much as a second glance.
“Pakhan”
I turn to find Ivan standing a few feet away, his expression serious as he approaches. Ivan and I have been friends for years and it is because of that friendship that I am immediately able to sense that something is wrong.
Shifting my weight, my jaw tightens, as I glance at him with a raised brow, “What is it, Ivan?”
Ivan and I had spent hours on the plane finalising the details of the latest Riga operation.
The Riga operation was a beneficial routine in the Bratva and was carried out at least once a year to ensure that crucial shipments of Grade A military weapons were smuggled successfully through the port city where it would find its way to one of our most profitable buyers in Eastern Europe. The deal had been pending for months and was finalised only a few weeks ago which was why I’d gone to Russia in the first place.
The operation was a delicate ordeal and involved months of planning to ensure the seamless transaction of goods across borders.
The process surrounding the deal followed A linear pattern. A representative would be sent in to inspect the shipment, and once it met the buyer’s expectations, an exchange would take place between my men and theirs.
The final execution is in three days and I’d taken great lengths to ensure that everything went according to plan and nothing was compromised.
“I just got off the phone with Leonid. There’s been an issue with the representative coming in for the operation”
Leonid was the second in command of the Mikhaylovs family which was the family responsible for controlling the import and export channels set up for the trade.
I cock an eyebrow, “What type of issue?”
“I was just informed that the usual representative for the Mikhaylovs won’t be coming this year”
That’s surprising. The Mikhaylovs have always used the same man as a representative for the last twenty years. He’d been a trusted member of their division, and while I wasn’t particularly fond of his presence, I can’t deny that his consistency and dedication made him a reliable asset to the operations each year.
“Was any reason stated for the change?”
Ivan nods, “Just one.” Ivan exhales slowly, running a hand over his face “He was murdered”
“Murdered?” I narrow my gaze, “By whom?”
“Stepan”
I’ve only met the head of the Mikhaylovs family a few times since I took over but I can guess that a man like Stepan wouldn’t just murder a man without any reason. From what I could tell he was meticulous and precise in everything he did, murder included.
He was in charge of the biggest black market weapons exchange ring in Europe and was known for his clipped attention to detail.
“He was caught trading information about the Mikhaylov family to an enemy organisation”
In the Bratva, being a rat meant certain death. It was considered to be an unforgivable sin and one that can only be atoned for with the traitor’s life.
Loyalty was the foundation of the Bratva. It was what held the family together and what set us apart from others. Sparing a rat meant a crack in that foundation; a crack meant weakness, and there was no room for weakness in the Bratva.
“I see. So, who will be replacing him?”
“Alexi”
Stepan’s first son turned sixteen a few months ago, and while that might seem a bit young to be roped into this business to people outside our world, sixteen-year-olds here were regarded as men. Their first mission, be it murder or sealing a deal, was considered a rite of passage and what earned them a title within the Bratva.
At fourteen I’d already killed my first man. I still remember the adrenaline pumping in my veins as I watched the life drain from my victim’s eyes under the tightness of my grasp. My father insisted I strangled the first man I ever killed. He saw it as the only way I’d ever know what it meant to feel true power.
And he was right. The sound of crushed windpipes and the desperate gasps for air from my victim made me feel powerful for only a brief second, and then I felt weak. From then on I preferred a gun to end my enemies.
While I doubted that was the case for Alexi, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already carried out his first kill considering who his father is. Stepan could be reckless at times but even he knew how important the Riga operation was. If he sent his son, it was because he trusted him-or, at the very least, knew that he was capable of handling the operation without any problems.
“Will this be his first operation for the Bratva?” I ask.
Ivan nods, “He’s been tested by his father and I’ve been assured that he understands what is at stake if this deal falls apart due to his incompetence”
The issue with handling high-risk operations such as this one is that while everything might seem intact, one small misstep could send the entire operation crumbling down. That was something I could not afford.
A lot was riding on the success of this year’s Riga Operation and the stakes were far too high for a mere rookie to handle. Stepan knew this better than anyone.
“When will he arrive” I inquire further
“Tomorrow,” Ivan answers almost immediately. “He’ll be staying at one of the local hotels until the day of the operation.”
“Find out which hotel he’ll be staying in and send two of my men to ensure his safety until the day of the Riga.”
Ivan nods once, seemingly understanding the intention behind my order. The last thing I need is for something to happen to him on my territory, and have a very pissed-off Stepan withdrawing from any further trades.
When Ivan leaves seconds later, I make my way upstairs. I barely make it up the stairs when a body collides with mine. My hands move instinctively landing on her waist to steady us both. The warmth of her body seeps through her thin blouse, and sound makes its way up her throat at the sudden contact.
What the…
I am immediately hit with the scent of cherries and warm vanilla, stopping the thought from fully forming.
I look down and find a cascade of brown curls tumbling down her neck, framing a face that is equal parts startled and enchanting.
Wide chocolate eyes lock with mine, her lips slowly parting in surprise.
“You should watch where you’re going, Solnyshko”
I say, my voice low but laced with amusement.
I make no effort to remove my hands from her waist, keeping her close and feeling the slight rise and fall of her chest against mine.
The neckline of the blouse she’s wearing is incredibly low, and from this angle, it’s impossible not to notice the curve of her neckline or the soft swell just visible beneath the fabric.
As if she can sense the thread of not-so-innocent thoughts brimming in my mind, she scrambles off me, putting some much-needed distance between our bodies.
Her face is flushed, and when she looks at me, I have to stop myself from leaning in and kissing that shocked look off her face.
“Sorry,” She mumbles, wrapping one hand around herself.
“Is something wrong Solnyshko?”
She releases a breath, eyes flittering around the hallway, looking anywhere but at me. It’s obvious she does not want to speak to me but the situation she is in apparently demands it.
“I can’t get into my room,” She huffs, motioning towards the door,
I follow her gesture, my gaze settling on the locked door behind her.
“I was wondering if you had a spare key?”
The corner of my mouth twitches ever so slightly, “No, I don’t.”
“oh” her shoulders slump, “well, Is there someone we could call to change the locks?”
“That will not be necessary”
She blinks at me, obviously confused by my words, “Of course it is, or do you expect me to sleep in your room?” She demands, narrowing her eyes.
When I tasted my wife yesterday, something I can’t quite place came over me. This need I had for her only grew each time she whispered my name or let out a moan.
Suddenly the idea of living separately didn’t sound appealing to me at all. I wanted her near me at all times. I wanted her scent suffocating me until it was all I knew.
“Now, there’s an idea” I murmur, my voice low and teasing.
Her eyes widen, and the realization of what I mean dawns on her face, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink. “You can’t be serious,”
“But I am”
“I’m not moving into your room”
I cork my head to the side, “You’re not?”
Her nostrils flare slightly, “Of course, I’m not.” She releases a harsh breath, jutting out her chin to me definitely, “You left me, alone this morning after everything we did last night and you still haven’t apologized or at the very least given me a proper explanation as to why I woke up to an empty bed this morning and now you want me to move in with you?”
“Technically, you’ve already moved in with me”
Irritation flashes in her eyes, and she shoots me a glare.
“This isn’t funny Nikolai. I’m not moving into your room.” She huffs crossing her arms over her chest.
I take another step forward, close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin, and I can hear the subtle pounding of her heart. “You shouldn’t have let me taste you then.”
Her mouth falls open, “That was… I didn’t…”
“Did you really think one night would be enough for all the things I want to do to you?”
My voice is calm, almost too calm, as I let the question hang in the air between us.
A blush creeps up her neck, and if looks could kill my little wife, she will have me hanging from a pole while vultures feed off my flesh.
“You’re driving me insane”
“That makes the two of us, Solnyshko”
She turns to leave but my hand catches her elbow, pulling her against me. She gasps, eyes wide as I lean in until my forehead is pressed against hers slightly.
“And as for last night,” I begin, my voice dropping to a low, controlled murmur. “I left because I had something to take care of that couldn’t wait. I didn’t leave because I wanted to or because last night wasn’t good enough for me because believe me when I say that If it were up to me, I would’ve spent my morning between your legs worshipping you and drawing out those soft whimpers that I’ve become obsessed until the only name on your lips was mine.”