Chapter Fourteen - Fedor
Fedor had dragged her out of the water, and now Sylvia was lying on the couch in Petrov’s living room, still not conscious.
He had arrived at the house to find Viktor in the bathroom, cleaning the tub and by the time he had run down the gravel path he could see Sylvia walking directly into the waves.
Fedor ran his hands through his hair over and over again. Pyotr had followed him into the waters too, but he had flung Sylvia over his shoulders and carried her back. She wouldn’t do it on purpose, he knew she wouldn’t do something like that on purpose. She was depressed in this house, sick and alone. In that moment he hated Will for abandoning his daughter, and he hated himself for sending her away.
“I’m sorry, Boss. I didn’t think she would leave the house,” Viktor was groveling. He was very close to crying, afraid that he was going to be punished for his inability to keep Sylvia safe. Fedor paced the floor of the room. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think straight.
Sylvia was wet, her robe was soaked, her hair was damp and she lay peacefully on the couch, at least still breathing.
“Boss, I’m sorry,” Viktor said again and this time Fedor lost it. In one swift blow, he punched Viktor, hitting him against the jaw. He felt like his knuckle cracked, but Sylvia woke up.
“Fedor!” she cried with her first breath. He turned to find her struggling to sit up on the couch.
“Did you just punch Viktor?” she asked as he rushed to her.
“Sylvia, what were you thinking?” he asked, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her close to his chest. He knelt beside her on the floor and looked into her large watery brown eyes.
“It isn’t his fault. I tricked him,” she said, looking up at his face. He didn’t care that Pyotr and Viktor were looking, that they could see him close to kissing Will Stern’s daughter.
“Why did you do that, Sylvia?” he asked and she rubbed her palms on her cheeks.
“I got sick, I fainted. I just wanted to sit on the beach. I wasn’t trying to do anything,” she said, and she looked like she shivered.
“Get her a fresh robe and some towels. Go now,” Fedor barked and both the other men ran out of the room.
“You gave us a scare,” Fedor said, letting go of her neck and standing up. The look in Sylvia’s eyes changed, they hardened again. The sour note that they had parted ways in Puerto Rico returned.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him and Fedor took in a deep breath, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.
“I thought I’d come by and check on you. I’m on my way back to Chicago now,” he said as Pyotr came in with fresh towels and a robe. He handed them over to Sylvia who started dabbing her face and her hair with them.
“Boss?” Pyotr said but Fedor asked him to leave them alone.
Sylvia straightened herself and positioned her back against the back of the couch, while Fedor remained standing, a few feet away from her.
“I’m going to change into this new robe now,” she said, looking at him directly. Fedor gulped, nodded and looked away.
He had come here to check up on her, because as much as he trusted Petrov and Viktor, he didn’t trust them with Sylvia. That was all it was. He didn’t need any more temptation.
“I’m fine, Fedor. I didn’t need checking up on,” she said and he couldn’t help but turn his face to look.
The discarded robe was lying bunched up at her seat, but she hadn’t put on the new one either. Instead, she was sitting there with one of the towels in her hand, she was dabbing her damp skin with it. She was naked. Her nipples were puckered in the cold, there were goosebumps on her dark smooth skin. Her brown eyes glowed when she caught him looking.
“What are you really here for?” she asked him, and Fedor breathed in again. It was too late to pretend like he hadn’t seen.
She was sitting with her bare legs slightly parted so that he could see her pussy. Where he had slid into her six weeks ago, where he had burst into her.
“I came to check up on you,” he repeated himself and Sylvia smiled.
“You thought I was going to kill myself,” she said and Fedor licked his lips.
“I saw you walking into the water,” he replied and Sylvia laughed.
“And you immediately decided that I was too depressed to live anymore,” she said and to his surprise, Sylvia stood up from the couch.
Now she was standing directly in front of him, naked with her legs apart. She was so close to him and yet so far away, too far away to touch. Her breasts were perfect, her head was held high. She was challenging him to control himself. He could feel his dick move in his pants. She saw it too, his growing erection.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe,” Fedor said and turned away from her.
“I thought you trusted your friend, you trusted Viktor,” he heard her say, and he clenched his jaw. What did she want from him? Wasn’t it enough that she was torturing him? Did she want him to admit it too?
“I hope you feel better soon, Sylvia. It was a mistake coming here,” Fedor said and was about to walk towards the door, but she stopped him. Not physically, but with what she said to him.
“I’m pregnant, Fedor. I’m pregnant with your child,” Sylvia said, and Fedor had no other choice but to whip around and look at her.
She remained standing naked, her head held high and she challenged him with her eyes. She didn’t need him. She just wanted him to know.