CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
ALEXANDRA
Alexandra sat to Viktor’s right at the head of the table and looked the group of men over. She recognized a few of them, albeit vaguely, from the meeting she had interrupted on her first day in the Sokolov mansion. The collection of mafioso had reported solely to Viktor previously, but today Alexandra was welcome at the table.
Despite Viktor’s insistence that she join them, though, some of the men seemed uncertain toward her. A few had initially given her glares which had seemed downright hostile. She hoped this gathering would clear any and all doubt in their minds about her and her family.
“Sergei Volkin is innocent,” Viktor announced. Some of the men glanced to one another with quirked eyebrows, and a few whispered. Alexandra was as delighted to be involved in the discussion as she was uncertain what to say or do. Her gaze shifted among the faces of the men, trying to read their reactions.
“Then who killed Boris?” someone asked with a touch of incredulity.
“Anatoly Popov.” Viktor leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Sergei told no one of his debts to my father. No one except Anatoly, whom he trusted. When Anatoly decided he wanted to start to take over business that was rightfully Sokolov, he poisoned my father, knowing that it would come back to Sergei.”
No matter how many times Alexandra had heard the story that night, no matter how grateful she was that her father was proven innocent, she still struggled to process that Uncle Tolya—a man she’d known for most of her life—had betrayed her family. How could someone seem so loving, so safe, and in turn be such a heartless killer?
“Are you certain, Viktor?” another man asked with an almost apologetic expression. Viktor gave a stiff nod, his mouth a thin line. Alexandra was surprised to see him calm in the face of someone potentially questioning his authority. She’d heard how he spoke to guards who asked too many questions, and would have thought for sure Viktor would fly off the handle at something like this.
Uncle Tolya turned out to be the killer, and now Viktor is being strangely civil, Alexandra noted. Funny how things could change so quickly.
“Sergei’s interrogation, combined with recently-pulled information from our intelligence agents, shows that, without a shadow of a doubt, Anatoly Popov is the one who killed my father. Once we knew what we were looking for, we even found the paper trail to his cyanide purchase,” Viktor said coolly. The room was silent as everyone took a moment to absorb the information.
“For those who want to see the evidence, or if anyone dares to even think about questioning my verdict or my wife’s loyalty, the folders in front of you have everything you need to see for yourselves.” Viktor gestured toward the manila envelopes scattered across the table. Some of the men shuffled through the papers with barely a glance while others scoured the information as though looking for inconsistencies.
After a few minutes that were silent save for the rustling of papers, Alexandra saw the doubt and hostility fading from the expressions of the men. Some of them even looked a bit remorseful.
Thank God there would be no further distrust of the Volkin family, Alexandra thought. It seemed the nightmare was over.
“Do we have him?” someone asked from the group. “Did we get Popov?”
“No,” Viktor’s voice came like steel, “but when we get him, we will make him pay. Not just for the murder, but also for framing Alexandra’s father.” Viktor wrapped his arm around Alexandra protectively, and she wanted to swoon when she felt him pull her near.
“We could not have figured this out without her help.” Viktor stated with honor.
Had she just heard that correctly? Alexandra’s eyes brightened as pride and confidence swept over her. A smile broke out on her face, and she beamed.
“My wife,” Viktor added, “is as smart as she is beautiful.”
With that, Alexandra felt herself melt for him. She felt her emotion spreading through her with relief as color rose to her cheeks, and she gazed at Viktor thankfully as he looked over to her. Their eyes met, and love flowed through her stronger than ever before when she saw the devotion behind Viktor’s eyes.
Despite their challenges, despite her uncertainty over the past few days, she knew now, in this moment, that Viktor was the man she had truly been meant to marry.
“We will discuss our plans for dealing with Popov at a later date,” Viktor announced. “Are there any further questions, gentlemen?” he asked. There was a touch of urgency to his voice, and Alexandra imagined everyone heard it—at the very least, she did.
The room was silent. Some men shook their heads. Others tucked their papers back into the folders.
“Good,” Viktor continued. “This meeting is adjourned.”
The group rose from their seats and filed out into the hall in turn. As soon as the last man closed the door behind him, Viktor swept his arm across the table to send folders and papers scattering to the ground. Alexandra let out a short cry of surprise as she felt herself lifted onto the table, facing him.
“You’re so sexy,” Alexandra purred once she’d caught her breath. Viktor leaned down and pressed their mouths together for a deep kiss. After a few slow motions of their lips, Alexandra felt his tongue against hers. She returned the gesture and explored his mouth. Her fingers played along the hard edge of his stubbled jaw while they rejoiced in the taste of one another.
She heard the zip of his fly then, and broke their kiss to pull her panties off from under her dress. Once her underwear had been kicked away, she put a hand on Victor’s waistband to help him tug down his pants and boxers.
He was already hard for her—no doubt as a result of the passionate moment when their eyes had locked, after he had complimented her in front of everyone. Alexandra realized he must have been sitting with an erection for her in front of his men, and she felt herself grow slick thinking about it.
“There is no doubt, now, moya sladkaya. No walls, no pretenses. This is for you and only for you.” Viktor dragged his teeth against Alexandra’s ear. Her pussy ached for him in response.
A low moan escaped her lips, and she arched her back for him. Viktor leaned over her, wrapped a powerful arm around her to keep her steady, and used his free hand to guide his eager cock toward her hungry entrance. She pressed her hips forward to unite their bodies.
“Oh God, you feel so good,” Viktor gasped out as he pushed into her. His girth satisfied her in all the right ways, completing her, and a breathless cry of absolute pleasure rose from her throat.
“You, too,” she breathed out. “I-I always forget how big you are,” Alexandra panted. “Keep going. Keep filling me.”
Their eyes met and their souls ignited for one another.
Since the day they’d met, Alexandra had wondered which Viktor was real: the cold-eyed, heartless mob boss, or the charming man who’d sat across from her at breakfast. Now she knew, truly knew in the core of her being, that he was a good man who genuinely cared about her.
The fear bled away. Her distrust bled away, and all that remained was an appreciation for this man who was so tough and so loyal, who could also be so delightfully tender.
Alexandra spread her legs wider and wrapped them around his waist, drawing their bodies ever nearer. In turn, he wrapped both arms around her so she could feel the hardness of his muscles. She rode his thrusts with need, breath hitching in her throat.
“I want you to be at my side. To help me rule my empire. To share in my power and be respected as an equal.” Viktor’s breath was hot against her neck as he spoke. She nuzzled the side of his face and took in a deep breath, appreciating the masculine scent of his skin.
“Oh, Viktor.” Alexandra was breathless. She bucked against him, twisted her hips down to press her clit against his length in rhythm. The growing pressure inside of her, combined with the stimulation of her sensitive nub, threatened to send her free-falling into climax. Viktor moaned against her ear—a deep, throaty noise—and she panted in response.
“I love you, Alexandra,” Viktor whispered against her ear.
“I love you, too, Viktor,” she whispered back.
Viktor’s pace increased. Each thrust of his cock made the table wobble. Papers fluttered to the ground as Alexandra’s heart fluttered in her chest.
“I’m going to come. You’re going to make me come,” she moaned.
“Come for me.” There was a hint of a dare in Viktor’s voice, and it drove Alexandra wild for him. “I want to feel you come against me. Right here, on the table where I have my meetings.”
“Oh God, God—” Alexandra’s voice broke as she found release, her pussy spasming hard and clenching around him. Viktor drove himself deep into her, and joined her in climax. She could feel the throb of his cock in contrast to the throb of her walls, and fireworks of ecstasy danced in her vision.
They remained locked in an embrace. Her legs dangled from the table, a pile of folders and papers in disarray on the carpeting below them. Heat rose from her skin, and she shuddered in absolute delight and slowly pressed her head against his. It was bliss—total bliss—and at last, it was hers.