Kathleen
I watch as my husband saunters to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean me up. I know my man well enough to know that our little lovemaking session is over. It was all one of his elaborate mind fucks. After twenty years of marriage, I probably know him better than he knows himself.
Glazov likes toying with people just for sport. It’s who he is. Me? I like a good fuck, and if my husband playing around with my psyche accomplishes that, well, then so be it.
“Antonio Wayne knows Nikita is sending Sofia back, right?”
His countenance goes cold, and I know what he is going to say before he even says it.
“It isn’t Antonio Wayne you should be worried about.”
He speaks through clenched teeth. I roll my eyes before I answer him.
“Just make sure I don’t have some Colombian thug knocking on my door, looking for one of his women. Get her ass back to him, and do it quickly.”
“Not until I accomplish what I want to do.”
“And what would that be, Glazov?”
“Spurring Natasha on to make a move with our son. She’s so damn concerned about not mixing business with pleasure that she isn’t giving in to her feelings for Nikita. Those two have been in love since they were kids. They need to just hurry up and get married.”
I take a moment to look him in the face, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation to him.
“Glazov, you’re going to fuck around and get that girl killed. Natasha isn’t the kind of woman you want to make jealous.”
“If it will motivate her to stop sitting on the fence, then yes, that’s exactly what I want to do.”
“Why don’t you just talk to her instead of playing these games?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
The smirk on his face clearly communicates how amused he is.
Fucking with a hit woman of Natasha’s caliber isn’t my idea of fun. Obviously, I’m just going to have to schedule a lunch with Natasha and talk to her myself. What Glazov doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It’s none of his damn business as far as I’m concerned anyway. Some things are better dealt with up front; this is clearly one of those times. Natasha and Nikita’s relationship runs deep. They have been in love with each other since childhood. I think the fact that she has put her feelings on the back burner out of respect for Glazov and the organization shows class. Regardless of how misplaced her concerns are, they come from a good place. If she sees this woman fawning all over Nikita, I’m not convinced that she’ll be capable of maintaining the calm exterior she’s known for. I need to get on top of this, and I need to do it quickly.
Glazov grabs my upper arm, squeezing just enough to let me know I can only leave if he allows it.
“Like I said, the person you need to be worried about is me.”
He’s still on the Antonio issue. That’s the last thing on my mind right now.
“If Natasha kills Sofia, I won’t be the one having issues with the Ramirez brothers; it will be you. I don’t give a shit about Antonio. I do, however, care about Natasha. Believe me, Glazov, my hands are full with you and the boys, and now they’re really full because of this bullshit concoction of a game you’ve fabricated.”
“Yeah, I just bet they are.”
I pull away, angry that he’s not taking me seriously, and grab the jeans and top I have laid out so I can get dressed.
“I’m going to check on this woman you’re putting in between Natasha and our son. I wouldn’t want someone to get killed because of you. You’re forever playing around in people’s heads.”
“It’s in the DNA,” he yells out behind me as I leave the closet.
“So I’ve heard,” I yell back in a snarky voice.
I stomp out of the bedroom, but really, what can I do? After all, it’s just a matter of Glazov being Glazov.
I change my demeanor when I get to my son’s bedroom. The girl they rescued is sitting on the bed, and I’m relieved to see that my son is over in his office off to the side. I need to talk to him and feel him out, but I take a moment to speak with Sofia before I address him.
She looks so much different today than she looked the night they brought her in. Even though the only make-up she has on is a clear gloss on her lips, she is stunning. Her long, dark hair cascades in ringlets down to her ass, and she has beautiful, clear skin the color of creamed coffee. I can definitely see this girl turning any man’s head. It only solidifies my resolve to get her out of here quickly.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and give her a sympathetic look.
“Do you have everything you need, dear?”
“Mrs. Glazov, you have been so kind. I have need of nothing.”
I look up and see Nikita rushing into the room with a stern look on his face.
“She’s fine, Mother.”
I force a smile and turn in his direction, making certain to keep the edge from my voice despite the fact that the little shit is forgetting I am his mother.
“There are some things a woman doesn’t like to discuss with a man, dear. You know… personal female things?”
That seems to relax him a little, but I note that he still moves closer to her, and his tone is defensive. It’s like he knows he overreacted, but he just doesn’t care.
“She’s fine. She has everything she needs.”
Sofia nods her head and smiles, clueless to the rising tension between my son and me.
“I’m sure she does.”
I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood as I rise from the bed. Walking toward the office door, I look over my shoulder and cut my eyes at my son while crooking my finger at him. He immediately follows me, and I smile as I direct my next statement to Sofia.
“Let me know if you need anything, dear.”
I’ve already gone into the office and shut the door, so I barely hear her when she answers, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Son? Have you lost your mind?!”
I don’t give him time to answer before I continue.
“If Natasha comes into this house and sees that girl fawning all over you, she’ll kill her.”
The smirk on his face and the chuckle that escapes his mouth, make him not only look like his father, but portray the same smart-ass attitude as well.
“Maybe a little jealousy will motivate my childhood love. She needs to stop worrying about pleasing Dad so much and start worrying more about pleasing me.”
I jab my finger into his chest, having to crane my neck to look up at the man looming over me.
“You listen to me and you listen good, boy. You are playing on dangerous ground, fucking around with Natasha’s emotions. I want that girl out of here before Natasha wipes the floor with her face.”
“No, Natasha needs to get with the program.”
“I swear, you are your father’s son. I’ll deal with it myself.”
The last thing I hear as I storm out of the room, is my son’s laughter. These two are playing a very dangerous game, and I am putting a stop to it before it gets so far out of control that someone gets hurt or, worse yet, killed.