I find Nakya in the gym, stretching her leg against the barre I provided. She is wearing only a pink leotard and leg warmers today. Since I gave her free rein with my credit card, there has been a dramatic change in her wardrobe. Lately, I’ve enjoyed seeing her in the high-waisted jeans and bodysuits she purchased. She’s a different girl than the prim little dancer I first met. She is wilder, perhaps.
But she is also self-conscious of her healthier new body. I enjoy the way her thicker flesh feels against me. There is nothing like getting lost in the softness of a woman. It calms me. And I get lost in Nakya as often as I can now.
Seeing her healthy is important to me, and as long as she’s in my care, I will do what’s necessary to keep her that way.
“Sarah tells me that you think it’s up to you to fire her.”
She returns my gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “I don’t need therapy anymore. I’m better now.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
She releases her leg and turns to face me, meeting my eyes in challenge. “I don’t have anything else to say to her. She’s wasting my time.”
“That is for me to determine. Besides, what else do you have to do?”
“You mean other than being your fuck toy?”
It’s the most vulgar thing she’s ever said, and it makes my dick hard. But I’m not about to let her get away with it.
“Watch your mouth, zvezda.”
“Why should I?” she asks. “You wanted me to be filthy, didn’t you? Your dirty little doll. So I’ll say it as much as I like. Fuck toy, fuck toy, fuck—”
The last of her tirade is cut short when I close the distance between us and catch her by the hair. A faint sound of protest hums in her throat, but she has come to heel as she should.
I lean close to inhale her before my lips come to rest on her ear.
“If you really want to be my fuck toy, I will tie you to the bed for three days and use every orifice on your body for my own amusement. So be careful what you wish for, princess.”
Her chest heaves, and fire spews from her amber eyes. She’s itching to pick a fight today, and I’m not sure why. Sarah warned me to expect these tantrums on occasion. With progress, there is always some regression too.
“Why won’t you just let me go?” she demands. “Send me back to my father.”
And we are back to this again. I’m tired of her antics, and I want to let her know it. My palm dips to her breast, toying with the nipple beneath the thin material.
“You are not a very good liar,” I tell her. “We both know you don’t want to go back there.”
She tries to smack my hand away from her breast, so I pinch her nipple, and she yelps.
“Stop!” she bellows. “I don’t want you. I’m sick of being your whore while you make plans to marry your precious Ana.”
“Is that what this is about?”
It seems that no matter how far we come, it always circles back to this. She can’t let it go, and I can’t give her the answers she wants.
“I just want to go home,” she says. “I want to go home and … marry Dante.”
She could have said anything. Anything but that. I make it known when I turn her around and force her to the floor.
“What are you doing?” she cries as I release the snaps between her legs, baring her pussy to me.
Despite her declaration to marry Dante, the shameful liar is wet for me. And I think she gets off on making me do this. She wants me to fuck her like an animal, but her prim little mouth won’t admit it.
I unzip my jeans, and she tries to wiggle out of my grip. In the struggle, I yank down her leotard and slap her tits. She stills in shock, gasping for breath as she cranes her neck to look at me.
“You are a monster.”
“And you are his whore.”
I emphasize the point by yanking her back onto my cock until I’m balls deep. She shrieks and claws the mat beneath her, still making every effort to tell me how much she hates me between broken breaths.
I fuck her like a barbarian, punctuating my thrusts with the insults she is desperate to hear. I tell her she’s my slut. My filthy doll. And she comes even though she doesn’t deserve to.
After a promise to punish her for it, I pull out and release myself on her red, swollen tits. And when I step back to examine my masterpiece, I’m satisfied at the sight of my savagely fucked little toy, breathless, spent, and covered in my cum.
I don’t bother to help her clean up. I have only one piece of advice for her before I go.
“You think of this,” I tell her, “when you marry Dante. Think of the cock that took you first. The cock you’ll wish you had when you’re faking it for him.”
“What do you have for me?”
For once, Mischa doesn’t seem to notice the stripper trying to get his attention across the room. I hate meeting him here, but it’s better than having him at my place. I don’t want him seeing Nakya there, remembering the way he almost took her.
“You are my brother,” Mischa says. “We bear the stars of the Vory, and for as long as I can remember, we have looked out for each other. Trusted each other. And we have never let anything come between us, small or large.”
I listen to his impassioned speech with critical eyes. Whatever is coming, I know it can’t be good.
“I’m asking you not to let anything come between us now, Kolyan. Not the girl. Not this news I have to deliver. I’m giving you what you asked for with little hope it will bring you peace. I worry this will set you on a course you can’t return from, and I ask for your word that you will allow me to advise you as a friend and ally in whatever path you choose.”
The brown paper folder in his hands commands my attention, and I know that this is it. He has the answers I have sought for a lifetime. Yet I can’t bring myself to open it now.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Mischa hesitates, then nods. “I don’t suppose you will consider that as closure.”
“No.”
“Then I urge you to act now, Kolyan, before things get any more complicated than they already are. I think you should not put it off another day.”
“How did you get this information?” I ask.
His eyes drift away from mine. “I had some help from Alexei.”
I’m tempted to punch him square in the face, and Mischa knows it.
“He already knew,” Mischa says. “And he was the one to approach me. In fact, he was the one who did most of the work. I am only the delivery boy because he’d rather not deal with you himself.”
I snatch the file from the table and stand. There is nothing left to say. Mischa can request my word as much as he’d like, but I won’t give it. Not until I know what this means for me.
Or Nakya.