I HEAR HIS PHONE go off, and then his rough voice a few moments later. It sounds muffled as I try to wake up. My eyes scan the clock, and I’m surprised to find that its only six in the morning. I roll over to curl into Ziven’s side, pressing my ear to his chest. His voice rumbles beneath me, but I don’t focus on his words, just the sound of his voice and how it soothes me.
“You’re awake?” he rasps as his fingers start to run through my hair.
“I am,” I whisper, wrapping my arm around his middle.
“You got your hair done. Did you go to the shop alone yesterday?” he asks as he stills beneath me.
“No, Kristy came here,” I say with a yawn.
“Yeah?”
“She did; and so did a woman,” I admit, broaching the topic lightly.
I honestly don’t want to start a fight, but I am curious.
“Woman?” he asks, sounding confused.
I lift my head and prop my chin on his chest so that I can look at his face.
“A woman, very beautiful, extremely tight dress. She said you wouldn’t remember her name so she didn’t give it. She was wondering why she hadn’t heard from you lately,” I explain.
I see the moment it dawns on him, and his eyes widen for a moment before he shutters them and looks down at me.
“She’s a prostitute, right?”
“She is,” he admits with a small shrug.
“You had her come to you while I was gone?” I guess.
“Does it matter?” he bites, obviously angry.
“Not to me, as long as it’s not something you’re still doing…” Ziven flips me on my back and cages my head in with his arms, his face just an inch away from mine, and his eyes hard and angry looking.
“You think I fuck whores and then come home to you?” he asks.
“No, I don’t,” I whisper.
“You want to hear about how I was lonely? How you left me, and I didn’t think I would ever see you again, so I called a whore to come and service my cock so I could get off? You want the details?” he irrationally asks.
“I don’t, not even a little bit. She came by here; it was a shock. I honestly didn’t think you were seeing her, or anybody else. It just surprised me, that’s all,” I ramble as my heart starts to speed up and I feel tears sting my eyes.
“You do realize it wouldn’t matter if I did still fuck her, or anybody else, right?”
“Ziven,” I rasp.
“You going to turn into that bitch you were, Quinn? Now that I’m wrapped around your finger, now that your pussy has enraptured me, and now that all of the threats and fears are dead, are you going to change on me? Show me the you that you were before?”
“You’re acting crazy, Ziven. Where is all of this coming from?” I ask, placing my hands on his chest and trying to push him off of me.
His body is shaking, though I don’t know if it’s with adrenaline, or anger, or what.
“Fucking hell—fucking goddamn hell,” he curses before he sits back and then moves to the edge of the bed, his feet hanging over and flat on the carpet.
“Ziven, talk to me,” I whisper, crawling up behind him and placing my hands on his shoulders and my lips on the center of his back.
“You’re free now, and there’s nothing for me to protect you from. They’re dead. I killed your father and Timofei and Mika took care of Agent Wilson and Johnson after I left.”
“So, you think I’ve been lying this whole time? That I’ve been playing a game, and now that I’m free, I’m going to leave you?” I ask sliding off of the bed and sinking between his spread legs onto the floor.
He doesn’t answer me; his jaw is clenched, and I watch it tick. I’ve never seen him lack confidence before, not like this, and this is all because of me.
I did this to him.
I broke this strong man, this man who has only ever wanted to take care of me.
I’m such a fucking bitch.
“If you want to punish me for the past, that’s okay, Ven. I’ll accept whatever you want to dish out, because I’ll deserve everything and more. But please, don’t punish me for things I haven’t yet done. I’m not changing. This is the real me. I’m yours. I willingly took marriage vows with you, because I love you. There’s only you for me, Ziven. No other man exists.”
“I fucked a prostitute. I closed my eyes and imagined it was you, but I fucked her anyway. I’m still angry about the past, no matter how much I try to push it to the side. It keeps coming back. I thought when I killed those pieces of shit that my anger would be gone. Then, all I could think was that you’re free to leave now, your fears are dead,” he explains, his voice barely above a whisper.
I slide my hands up his knees and to his thighs, my eyes completely focused on his. I hope I’m showing my feelings for him in my gaze. I hope that he can feel that there’s no way I would ever leave him. It’s not simply enough for me to say the words to him, he has to feel that I mean them as well.
“My fears are gone, and I thank you for that—but Ziven, I mean it when I tell you that I love you. My anger disappeared a while ago. This is me. I’m your wife, and I won’t be going anywhere,” I say, trying to convince him again.
“Show me,” he grunts.
“How?” I ask.
“Suck my cock and let me fuck your ass. Let me own every single piece of you,” he mutters.
His eyes are so hurt, so incredibly hurt, that I would do anything for him right now to ease that pain. I reach out and wrap my hand around his cock, stroking it gently, feeling it harden in my palm as I do. Then I lean forward and lick the seam before I swirl my tongue around the head.
I open and take him into my mouth.
As soon as I do, he wraps his hands around the side of my head and thrusts down my throat. It’s brutal, harsh, and he doesn’t stop there. He fucks my mouth, his eyes filled with anger and focused on mine. We don’t break eye contact as he continues to plunge in and out of me.
Tears spring to my eyes and fall, but he’s uncaring. I breathe out of my nose, the wetness from my tears falling down my cheeks and neck. Only when he releases me do I suck in a deep breath.
“On the bed,” he demands.
He’s like a wild animal, and for the first time ever, I’m truly frightened by him. I crawl into the middle of the bed and I lie down, pinching my eyes closed and bracing for the pain that I know I’ll feel when he sinks into my ass. A second later, I feel something warm dripping down the crack of my ass, and then the door slams behind me.
I open my eyes and lift my head, looking around to discover that I’m now alone, and the door that was slammed was our bedroom door. I reach behind me and touch the warm liquid that’s on my ass. It’s sticky—it’s cum.
I stand and hurry to the bathroom, taking a discarded towel and cleaning myself before I find the shirt I was wearing the night before, throwing it on before I go in search of Ziven.
Luckily, it’s light out. The living area is bathed in the sunlight, the snow glistening and shimmering on the ground and the mountains that surround us. Ziven isn’t hard to find. His hands are braced on the countertop, and his head is bowed.
“I almost did what he did to you,” he rasps as I walk closer to him.
“No, you didn’t,” I say. I mean every word.
It probably would have hurt, but no way could he ever treat me the way Oswald did—ever.
“I almost took your ass against your will,” he yells, turning to face me.
He’s got his boxer briefs on, but he’s otherwise sans clothes, and he looks beautiful in the sunlight. I tip my head to the side and study him. He feels guilty, and that alone proves that he couldn’t treat me the way Oswald did, not even slightly.
“You wouldn’t have hurt me, and it wasn’t against my will. I would have given it to you. I still would give it to you,” I say, taking another step closer.
“I don’t feel stable,” he admits, running his fingers through his hair.
I smile slightly and close the distance between us completely, wrapping my arms around his middle and pressing my cheek to his warm chest.
“You’re human, Ziven. We’re human. I betrayed you, and I treated you badly for so long. This feeling you have, it’s normal,” I whisper.
He twists his fingers in the back of my hair and pulls my head away, turning it so that I’m forced to look up at him. The anger is gone from his eyes, and so is the fear. All I see now is Ziven, my Ziven, and the love he has for me shining brightly.
“We are not normal, not in the slightest,” he chuckles.
“No, we aren’t. But we’re human, Ziven. You are human.”
“Never leaving?” he asks, tipping his lips in a half smile.
“Not ever,” I firmly state.
He lets out a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling before he moves his eyes back down to me.
“You know I’d drag your ass back, yeah?”
“I’d let you, every time,” I murmur with a smile of my own.
“Fucking right, you would, katyonak,” he rasps before he dips his chin and presses his lips to mine.
Just then, a knock on the door makes me jump, and he releases me.
“Go back in the bedroom. It’s Mika,” he says.
I look at him with confusion, but his only reply is to run his hand along the bare skin of my thigh, and my face heats. He doesn’t want Mika to see me with so little on; not that he hasn’t already, but I understand.
I hurry to the bedroom, only to hear him chuckling behind me. A few minutes later, he walks in with a white trash bag, and I watch as he loads up his bloody clothes, socks, and shoes from last night without a word, and then leaves again.
Not more than five minutes later, he’s back in the bedroom, and he smiles. He doesn’t say anything, but takes my hand and gently pulls me toward the shower.
In silence, we shower. He washes my body and hair, then I do the same for him. We don’t go any further. Even though he’s hard, as soon as I reach for his cock, he bats my hand away with a shake of his head.
“You’re coming with me today,” he announces as he dries me off.
“Out? Where? Why?” I ramble in a panic.
“Out, around town. Because you need to start living a normal life again, Quinn,” he explains.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” I whisper, looking down at my feet.
Going out in a different city, like when we were in New York, it’s different than here in Denver. I don’t feel safe here, nothing about Denver feels safe anymore, nothing except Ziven’s condo.
In New York, I am just a body walking around, nobody would even recognize my face. Here, there’s Oswald and, as silly as it sounds because I know he’s gone, it still scares me.
Ziven tucks his finger underneath my chin and lifts my head until I’m looking up at him.
“I know you don’t, katyonak. I understand why, but Quinn, you’re a Pakhan’s wife now. Your husband is one of the most powerful men in Denver. You have absolutely nothing to fear,” he rumbles.
“I’m scared of everything outside of these walls,” I admit.
“I know, and I understand,” he nods.
“Okay, so, good—then I don’t have to go?” I ask, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Oh, you have to go. I just understand what you’re saying,” he shrugs before he walks away.
“Ziven,” I hiss, following him into the closet, still wrapped in a towel.
“Non-negotiable, katyonak. I’ve been coddling you, and now it’s over.”
I watch with my mouth agape as he dresses and then leans over, placing a kiss on my cheek before he tells me to hurry. We’re leaving in thirty minutes. Then he walks out of the bedroom, leaving me standing in surprise.
Coddling me—whatever.
Quinn is always so fucking sexy when she’s baffled or angry, and right now, she’s a mix of both. I would bow to her whims, but I refuse to do so. She needs to get back to a normal routine. Hiding out in the condo all day and night is not normal.
I don’t think she knows what normal is for her, so I aim to help her find it. Maybe she wants to be involved in charity work, maybe she wants to work a job she likes, or perhaps she wants to spend my money all day long—I honestly don’t give a fuck as long as she’s living and enjoying herself.
I don’t think Quinn has ever just lived, done what she’s wanted, and been free. With me, she can fly. She can do as she wishes—within reason. I’m willing to help her in any way that I can, help her find herself, so long as I’m at her side no matter how she ends her days.
I pick up my phone and call Oliver to see what information he’s found for me on that number I gave him.
“You just gave it to me a few hours ago,” he snaps as soon as he answers the phone.
“I’m impatient,” I mutter, not feeling an ounce of guilt.
“All you Russians are. You want what you want when you want it,” he grumbles.
“Having problems with your husband?” I ask.
“Don’t be an arsehole,” he grunts. “I found out some information.”
“Great.”
“Your guy, he’s the El Jefe of El Jefe’s. This is—the man in charge. It didn’t take much digging to find that out. Kirill is ecstatic by the way, since this is the guy they’ve been trying to find, but haven’t had any luck. How’d you come across him, anyway?” he asks.
“This is the guy D.A. Johnson and Agent Wilson have been selling girls to,” I say.
“Oh, fuck, this is huge,” Oliver mutters.
“Email me everything on him. Where’s he living, by the way?”
“A little too close for comfort. He’s in Brooklyn. Right under our noses the entire time,” he rumbles.
“I’m going to call Kirill, Pasha, and Yakov right now,” I announce.
“Good idea. I’m sending that email as I speak.”
I thank Oliver before I hang up, and then I forward his email to Kirill, Yakov, and Pasha before I video conference all three of them. Luckily, they’re all available and pick up immediately.
“How’d you find him?” Yakov practically shouts.
“Morning gentlemen,” I say with a grin. “This is who Quinn’s father, Agent Wilson, and D.A. Oswald Johnson were trying to sell Quinn to. Oliver and I have been doing some digging, and once we figured out that’s what they were doing, I made it my mission to find out exactly who was buying the women. I had my suspicions that it was someone in the Cartel, but I had no clue this is who was doing it,” I explain.
“Thought we could get by without it, but there’s no way is there—war?” Kirill asks, arching a brow. Yakov and Pasha both nod.
“Not even an option,” Pasha affirms.
“We have enough men for this? They’re a huge operation,” I say, expressing my concerns.
“They are, but we have them beat by sheer numbers alone. We have the Notorious Devils motorcycle club, the Irish mob, and our crews have not stopped coming slowly from Russia and around the world. It’s true, I wish our Russian numbers were stronger, but we’re ready. Once I confirm with the Devils and the Irish, I say we strike,” Pasha says.
“How long?” I ask.
“A month, max,” Pasha says.
“Let’s do this. I’m tired of those pieces of shit,” Kirill growls.
“The time is here,” Yakov agrees with a nod.
“Let me know what you need from me and when you need it,” I say.
“Same here,” Kirill announces.
“I will. Yakov and I, along with MadDog with the Devils, and O’Neil with the Irish, will devise a plan and distribute it amongst our men,” Pasha explains before we all agree and end the call.
I look up to see Quinn standing in my doorway. She’s wearing skinny jeans, the Ugg boots I bought her, and a thick cream sweater. Her blonde hair is wild and sexy, and she looks absolutely breathtaking, yet terrified.
“War?” she whispers.
“You shouldn’t be listening to conversations, katyonak,” I scold as I stand up.
“The Cartel, you’re going to war with the Cartel?”
“Not that it’s your concern, but yeah, we are,” I admit, taking her hand as I walk us over to the coat closet and retrieve our jackets.
“That scares me, Ziven,” she admits with a trembling lip.
I lean down slightly and press my lips to hers, sucking that trembling lip between my teeth and gently biting on it. I hear her breathing change once I let go, and then I straighten my back.
“There’s no need to fear a thing, Quinn. I’ve always protected you, and I always will. I doubt this war will even touch you,” I shrug.
“Like it didn’t touch the wife of your friend when I stayed holed up with the other women?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
She’s talking about Pasha’s wife, how she was murdered. However, the situation was nowhere near this one.
“Totally different scenario,” I say, the only explanation I’ll give her.
This is none of her concern. She is a Bratva wife, she is not Bratva.
“Don’t do anything that will take you away from me,” she says, fisting my jacket in her small hands as we ride down the elevator.
“No need to worry, katyonak. I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur, brushing her lips with my own as the elevator door opens.
The conversation is over.
There’s no reason to continue it, at all.
This is business, of which is none of her concern, and I will always protect her. She doesn’t know the details, she doesn’t know that as long as these Cartel fucks are around then she’ll always be in danger, as will every other woman in the country.
I’m all for selling pussy.
I’m all for making a dollar while doing it, too.
I am not, however, okay with kidnapping pussy to abuse and sell. That is never okay. It took the Bratva a long time to get out from under that business, and none of us wants to be back there.