“YOU’VE MADE CONTACT WITH our man in Paris?” Yakov asks.
We’re all outside of the hotel—the women and children still chatting around their brunch. The men, myself included, feigning a need for a smoke have all come outside to talk about the plan. “I have. He and I are meeting Monday morning when I arrive,” I state. “My father is following me to Paris.”
“He’s what?” Dominik asks, his brow shooting straight up in surprise.
“Konstantin texted me last night. My father’s voiced that he’ll be checking up on me during my honeymoon, but has yet to say when. He’s keeping an eye out for me. Fuck me. As much as I want to end this, it can’t happen overseas,” I murmur.
Yakov grunts with a nod before he speaks. “It has to be here; and it has to be publicly, to prove a point, and to make your takeover crystal fucking clear to his men.”
I nod in agreement, letting out a heavy sigh. This whole thing makes me nervous. Beyond that, it makes me anxious. I want it over with, and I hope to fuck that it doesn’t have to be deadly. I have a feeling that it very well could be. As much as I don’t want that, I’m prepared for it to go down like that.
“I don’t understand why he wants to follow you to Paris,” Kirill murmurs, rubbing his jaw with his hand. “There has to be a reason. Watch your back, yeah?”
Nodding, I take a gulp of vodka. “You don’t think he suspects—that he would get rid of me, do you?”
My father isn’t stupid. He’s been in a high position of power for a long time, and for good fucking reason. He’s smart and he’s tough as shit, always staying one step ahead of his enemies. The question is, does he see me as an enemy yet?
“He’s still pretty focused on Mika, and I heard he’s been talking with the Cartel behind the Motorcycle Club’s back. That will earn him some major fucking enemies, by the way—enemies we don’t need or want. As far as I know, it’s all just talk. No deals have been struck, but we need him out of power before he starts signing more contracts,” Yakov explains.
I look to the Staten Island Pakhan and shake my head. “He still hasn’t called the hit off of Mika?”
He doesn’t know that we’ve made it more than clear that if something happens to Mika, there will the entire Bratva’s hell to pay. That doesn’t make my father’s further attempts to kill my brother-in-law, my Bratva brother, and the father of my nephew any less frustrating.
“Keeps asking for updates, according to Konstantin,” Yakov grunts, shaking his head.
“After your honeymoon, this shit ends, yeah?” Maxim asks, taking a drag from a cigar.
I lift my chin and grin. “It’s fucking done. He’s not dragging the Bratva back with the Cartel, he’s not fucking our relationship with the Notorious Devils, and he’s not going to kill the man who loves Oksana. I’ll set up a meeting with him for when I return, on collection day,” I state.
“Everyone will be there, all together,” Yakov points out.
“Exactly.”
Collection day is that day, every other week, when all of the Brigadier’s bring in the earnings from their business ventures—drug sales, gun sales, whore sales, and nightclub revenues—to pay tribute. My father counts them and takes the Bratva’s percentage before giving their portion back to the brigadiers to divvy up amongst their men. Then as a group, the men drink and relax.
It’s the prime moment to take over. Only higher ranking Bratva men will be around, and all guns are left at the door. Three weeks from now will be the first one I’ll be able to attend after my trip to France.
“If I send you the details, you’ll be there with reinforcements?” I ask, turning to Yakov.
“Yes. Dominik and some of my other men will join me. We’ll make this as quick as possible; but Timofei, it will be up to you to hold onto your title, to defend it, and to prove yourself a capable Pakhan.”
“I’ve put a lot of thought into this the past few months. In fact, it’s all I have been able to think about, and I’m ready. It’s not something I’m looking forward to, but I’m prepared,” I state. The men look at me somberly before each of them nods. They know as well as I do how very likely death will be the only way this will end.
We walk back into the hotel restaurant and return to the room where all of the women are. They’re still chatting, most of them holding a child or two in their laps, and I can’t help but grin. It’s a beautiful sight to see so many children fill this space, to see my brothers’ lives so full and happy.
Ten years ago, this scene would never have been. Perhaps they would have had a child or two, but their fate would already be written. Now, though tradition is very much still an important aspect of the Bratva families, their futures are not all completely set in stone anymore.
“Ready?” I ask as I place my hand on Devyn’s shoulder with a squeeze. She looks back at me and a blush tints her cheeks pink before she nods.
It takes us at least forty-five minutes to actually say goodbye to everyone and head back upstairs. We only have another hour before our flight takes off, and I need to make sure that Devyn is ready for the trip. I don’t know how long it will take her to be completely ready to leave.
We walk into the suite, and I’m feeling nervous. In just a few hours, we’re going to be leaving the country. Other than a short trip to Ireland when I was little, which I don’t even remember, I’ve never even left New York. I have a current passport because my father always made sure we had them, in case something happened, and we needed to flee.
“How long will it take you to be ready for the flight?” Timofei asks distractedly as he punches buttons on his phone.
“Not long. I just have to put all my bathroom stuff back in my bag,” I say as my eyes scan the room. Then I see my wedding dress in a crumpled pile on the floor, sitting where we left it last night. “What am I going to do with my dress?” I ask.
Timofei looks up from his phone, his lips pressed together and a look of confusion on his face. Then he smirks. “Leave it here, let a maid take it home,” he shrugs. I gasp in horror, thinking about leaving my beautiful dress in the hotel. “Do you want to keep it?” he asks in surprise.
“I thought that I would use the material to make a christening gown when we have children,” I murmur as I bend down, picking up the dress.
Timofei’s heat is suddenly at my back, and he slips the dress from my hands, letting it fall back to the ground. He then spins me around with an unreadable look on his face.
Without warning, his lips are on mine, and his hands are hiking up the skirt of my dress. He grabs my ass, and I can’t hold back my moan as I arch closer to him.
His lips travel down my neck and stop just where my dress neckline begins. With a squeeze of my ass, he instructs me to turn around. I do so with hesitancy, unsure of what he will do next. I feel his fingers in the side of my panties before he wrenches them down my legs.
“Spread for me,” he grumbles.
Stepping out of my panties that have fallen around my ankles, I spread my legs. I feel his foot gently tap my inner ankle, and he grunts for me to spread wider.
He gathers my hair and slides it over one shoulder, his lips touching the opposite neck. One of his hands glides up to cup my breast while the other slips between my thighs.
I let out a shaky breath when he slips two fingers inside of me. I turn my head and let my lips graze the underside of his jaw, which causes him to groan. The hand at my chest dips inside of the V-neck of my dress and beneath my bra to cup my bare breast, squeezing me roughly, causing my hips to buck. I feel the sensation down to my belly, and I whimper.
“Do you want me inside of you, Devvy?” he whispers against my neck before he nips me with his teeth.
“Fei,” I sigh as my hips involuntarily roll in search for more friction.
“Tell me what you want, devochka,” he rasps. I feel his breath against my skin as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of my center. He plucks and tugs on my hardened nipple at the same time, causing me to shiver.
“You,” I whisper as my face heats with embarrassment.
“What do you want from me?” he chuckles as he pulls out of my center and smears some of my excitement on my clit. I feel his fingers start to gently touch me there, it feels so good. His fingers glide over my clit in a whispered touch, leaving me wanting, no craving so much more.
“Please, Fei,” I beg.
His hand leaves my breast. My eyes flutter closed, and I pant as he continues to gently caress my nub. His fingertips move down to graze my slit, before they return to my clit, over and over again. I want more, but this glorious torture I could endure for as long as he wishes, it is almost relaxing.
I shiver in his arms, allowing him to play with me however he wishes. Lifting one of my arms, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck. He gently pinches my clit, causing me to moan.
“Bend over and brace your hands on the edge of the bed, devochka,” he almost growls in my ear.
I stand frozen, unsure of what to do and what he’s going to do to me. I let out a yelp when I feel a stinging sensation on my ass as a loud slap fills the room. “Bend over,” he growls. Closing my eyes tightly, I nervously do as he’s instructed.
I hear a whooshing sound, and then I feel the head of his dick pressed against my entrance from behind. His hands wrap around my hips as he slowly sinks inside of me, stretching me. It feels so different in this position that it almost hurts. I hold my breath, pinching my eyes closed and waiting for whatever he’s going to do.
Timofei slowly slides out of me and then sinks back inside with a long moan. I expected something fast and hard, but it’s the exact opposite. The third time he sinks completely inside of me, I let out a long groan as I fist the comforter in my hands.
“Your ass is so fucking sexy with my handprint on it,” he murmurs. He starts to thrust a little faster and harder, causing my breath to hitch with each stroke.
I can feel myself climbing, but I know that I won’t find my release. It’s on the edge, but without more, I won’t be able to come. I want it, no I need it. My body is curled up, wound so tightly that I feel like if I don’t come I’ll be in excruciating pain for the entire flight to Paris.
As if he knows exactly what I need, one of Timofei’s hands slips from my hip to my clit and he starts to stroke me. “Oh, god, Fei. I’m so close,” I whimper. When he pinches my clit, my head flies back, and I come on a cry.
“Fuck, yes, squeeze my cock, devochka,” he roars as he stills inside of me. I feel his release fill me in quick spurts as he twitches inside of me.
I’m completely limp as he continues to slowly glide in and out of me, my cheek resting on the mattress. I’m only standing because he’s holding onto my hips and keeping me still to use for his pleasure. I feel the loss of him when he completely pulls out, and it makes me frown. I realize that just him being inside of me makes me feel—whole.
“We leave in a little over and hour, Devvy. You should clean up and pack your shit,” he murmurs as I hear rustling behind me, signaling that he’s probably just pulled his pants back up. He doesn’t attempt to even touch me as I stand on shaky legs and turn to face him.
He’s back to looking at his phone, and it leaves me feeling used. I hate it. My sister warned me that this would be my fate, as was hers. A warm body to use when they decide they want it from you. I had hoped, after he was so wonderful last night, that Timofei would be different.
Turning away from him, I quickly make my way to the bathroom, locking myself inside to clean up and then pack up my makeup and toiletries. I try not to cry. I try really, really hard not to, but I fail. Tears sting my eyes as I finish up packing.
Once my bathroom stuff is handled, I try to blot my eyes dry so that they don’t get puffy. While I’m successful with that, I can’t hide the fact that they’re bloodshot and I’ve definitely been crying.
I let out a puff of air and gather my things as I open the door. Thankfully, I’m alone in the bedroom. Spotting my panties on the floor, I hurry over to them and pull them back on before I finish putting my things in my large suitcase.
I stand and yank the handle out before I begin to walk into the living area of our suite, just in time to see Timofei handing my dress over to someone at the door. I can’t see who it is, and I’m frozen solid to my spot as the exchange takes place. He’s giving my dress away, even after I said I wanted to keep it and why. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying and take a few deep breaths.
Timofei turns to face me and gives me a grin as he closes the distance between us. “We leave in just a few minutes. I went ahead and ordered room service while you were in the bathroom. I didn’t know what you’d want, but I ordered a turkey sandwich and a bowl of fruit,” he shrugs.
“We just ate,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.
“Yes, well, I don’t know when they’ll feed us again. The plane is private chartered, and I didn’t get a chance to go over the menu with the company,” he explains.
“Okay,” I nod as I make my way over to the small table and chairs where the food cart is waiting.
I sit down, and we eat in silence. I choke down half of my sandwich and my entire fruit cup before Timofei announces that it’s time to leave for the airport. I nod and walk over to my suitcase, but he’s already got it in hand with a grin tipping his lips, as if he hasn’t just given my wedding gown away; as if he doesn’t care how important it was to me.
With a heavy sigh, I follow behind him. I let myself hope, and this is all my fault—feeling disappointed and upset. If I would have just listened to my sisters advice and not allowed myself to have hopes and dreams with this man, even if they only lasted for a day, then I wouldn’t be as sad as I currently am—as heartbroken as I am.