Copyright © 2022 by Stormy Night Publications and Measha Stone

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Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Stone, Measha
Corrupted Innocence

Cover Design by Jodie with Dark City Designs

Photographer: WANDER AGUIAR

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book
are fantasies only, intended for adults.
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue

About Measha Stone

Also by Measha Stone
Mafia Brides
Thank You!
Charlie

THE BREAD DELIVERY IS LATE. Of all days for it to be late, it’s the day
we have one of the largest catering lunch orders we’ve had in months. I
stare down the alley, willing the truck to turn off the side street and into the
narrow alleyway toward our little sandwich shop.
My parents opened this deli when I was still in diapers. They grew it
from a tiny hole in the wall to one of the neighborhood favorites. But that
was before all the chains opened up. We still do all right, but if this catering
order gets messed up, I’m certain our review stats are going to drop. And a
small business like mine can’t afford those reviews to sink.
“They’ll be here, Charlie. Relax.” Joey pats my shoulder. He’s worked
here for the last five years since my mom became too ill to work. “They’re
only an hour late.”
An hour late. The shop is already open, and the catering order is due in
half an hour. If we don’t get this bread, the order will be late.
“Where’s your brother?” Joey wipes his hands on the white apron he
has tied around his middle. He slices all the meat for the shop with the
fancy meat slicer I bought last year when the old one finally died. My dad
never replaced anything in the shop until it gave its last breath. I’ve been
slowly replacing things since he passed away eighteen months ago.
“I have no idea where Oliver is,” I answer, trying to keep the annoyance
from touching my tone. Oliver’s inattention to this place was easier to
shoulder when my father was healthy enough to help run it. I’ve had to hire
an extra employee to help cover the shifts he used to at least pretend he was
going to cover. Now, sometimes weeks pass before I hear from him.
“I thought he said he would be here today.” Joey rubs the back of his
neck and gestures for me to come back inside. “It’s drizzling, come inside,
Charlie. They’ll be here.”
I wipe away the minuscule droplets from my forehead and step up into
the back room of the deli.
“Oliver stops in when he wants to,” I say. He’s not the most dependable
person, my brother. But he is my brother. Sometimes I wish I could forget
the long lectures about the importance of family my father gave during our
childhood. Oliver seems to have tuned them out just fine. But I can’t. He’s
my brother, and my parents wouldn’t want me to turn my back on him.
“I’m going to call the bakery again.” I head to the back office. This
situation reiterates the need for our own ovens so we can make our own
bread. I almost have enough stashed aside to make the purchase without
adding too much debt to the deli, but until then I’m going to have to get that
delivery here.
“Charlie, I know. I know, it’s almost there. I swear it.” Kedzie, the girl
who runs the Homestyle Bakery seven blocks down answers my call before
the first ring can finish.
“Swear it.” Kenzie has never let me down, and I have no reason to
believe she will today.
“I swear. Jonny is like a block away.” She sounds as panicked as I feel.
Missing a delivery, even to a smaller shop like us, is bad for business. We
small businesses need to stick together if we are ever going to have a
chance to compete with the big stores.
“Any chance on a discount for this one?” A smile tugs at my lips.
Kedzie and I have known each other for years. Both of us are daughters
who stepped into the big shoes of our fathers.
“Ten percent,” she offers, which covers the tax and delivery fee.
“I’ll take it and add three dozen pretzel rolls to the next order. I’m going
to introduce it and see if it takes.” I twirl the phone cord in my fingers. I
haven’t gotten around to changing out the phones in the shop. They’re
originals from when Mom and Dad opened this place twenty-three years
ago.
“You got it.” Just as she speaks the horn from her cousin’s truck blasts
in the alley. The order has arrived, and my ass is saved.
 “It’s here. Gotta run!” I hang up and hurry out to the back to help bring
in the order.
“Sorry, Charlie.” Jonny jumps down from the truck and runs to the
back, throwing open the rolling door.
“Just get it inside. I have to start a big order right away.” I grab a tray of
buns and hurry them into the kitchen.
“See. I told you they’d get here in time,” Joey grins as I hurry past him
to put the bread away.
“Thanks, Jonny!” I shut the back door and dive into the order. I’ll get
the catering order done back here while Joey watches over the staff up
front.
“Hey, Charlie!” Oliver pushes through the kitchen door with a wide
grin. He hasn’t shaved in days, and from the muss of his hair and dark rings
under his eyes, I’d say he hasn’t slept much either.
“Oliver,” Joey greets him as he heads to the front. “See, Charlie, I told
you he was coming in today. Good to see you, man.”
I shoot my brother what I hope is a death glare. “We have a big order to
get done. Wash your hands and you can help me.” I gesture to the list of
sandwiches needing to be made. All the toppings are ready, we just need to
get going.
“Sorry, little sister, can’t stay too long.” He pops a sliced bell pepper
into his mouth. “I need to talk to you, though.” He glances at the back
office.
I sigh. “I can’t, Oliver, this order is already on the verge of being late.” I
wave my hands over the table where I should already have a dozen subs
wrapped and ready to go.
“It’ll just take a second.” He grabs my arm. “It’s important,” he says
through tight teeth.
“Go. I’ll get these started.” Joey waves both hands at me. “It’s dead up
there, they’ll be okay for a bit.”
“Fine.” I push the paper toward him. “Just mark off the ones you get
done.”
He nods and picks up the first bun.
Once I’m in the back office, Oliver shuts the door. Already, my stomach
hurts just looking at him. His face contorts in guilt.
“No,” I sigh, already knowing what’s coming. “You didn’t.”
“It’s not that bad.” Guilt lingers in his eyes.
 “How much?” I want to scream. I want to pull his hair out. I want to put
my fist through his nose, maybe split his lip open. But doing any of those
things won’t work. I’ll just feel bad for doing it and have to take him to the
hospital to get him cleaned up. And I don’t have the energy for it today.
“C’mon, Charlie. Don’t look at me like that. It’s not what you think. I
didn’t go to a bookie.” He wipes his hand over his face, and I notice the
exhaustion there. “I didn’t gamble, I swear. I needed some cash to invest in
this business that had a ton of promise. I knew you didn’t have the money,
so I borrowed it.”
A loan shark. The stomach pains twist into nausea.
“How much, Oliver?” I ask with my eyes closed. Now more than ever I
can’t let that order cost us any lost business.
“Two hundred.” He pinches his lips together.
“Just two hundred?” The amount sounds wrong. Why would he be so
worried over a lousy two hundred?
“Grand, Charlie. Two hundred grand.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his
throat after he gives me the full amount.
I’m going to vomit. The donut and coffee I had for breakfast this
morning is going to reappear all over my desk any second.
“Two hundred thousand dollars?” I want to yell it, but the shock takes
most of the sound from my voice. “Where the hell am I going to get two
hundred thousand dollars?”
“I know.” He grimaces. “I just… maybe just a little cash? Just to give
them to get them off my back?”
“Them?” I clench my teeth as a thought strikes me. “Who’s them,
Oliver?” I close my eyes, trying to ward off the name he’s about to give me.
Because I know it’s coming. I can sense it in my bones, but once he says it I
won’t be able to unhear it.
“The Romanovs.”
I sink into my office chair, an old wooden chair with wheels my father’s
had in this office for two decades.
“You borrowed money from the Russian mob?” I can’t look at him. If I
look at him, and I see the remorse in his eyes, I’ll feel sorry for him. And
I’m too angry to feel sorry for him.
“It was a good business investment, Charlie. I swear it,” he hurries to
justify. He can always excuse his behavior.
 I put my hand up in the air to stop his excuses. I’ve heard all of them
before, and I don’t have time for a rerun of a bad show.
“How much will keep them happy?” Already, I’m doing math in my
head.
“I think I can get more time with ten thousand.” The number rolls off
his tongue as though he’s asking for a couple of bucks for a cup of coffee.
“Five percent? You think five percent will appease them?” My brother,
always the delusional optimist.
“It’ll buy me some time.” He runs his hands through his shaggy brown
hair.
“For how long?” Loan sharks aren’t really known for their patience, and
the Romanovs aren’t known for being reasonable.
“I don’t know,” he whines. “They’ll be here tomorrow to collect. Do
you think you can help?”
“Here?” I move back to my feet. “You have them coming here? To our
deli?”
“I thought it would be safer. A public place.” He shrugs.
As though public spaces ever stopped the Romanovs from doing what
they wanted to do. Having an audience to a crime when you have big
players in the NYPD in your pocket isn’t exactly a hindrance.
“I’ll get the money.” A bowling ball of emotion weighs me down.
Relief washes over him like a tidal wave. “Thank you.” He grabs my
shoulders and squeezes. “I knew I could count on you. I’ll be here at one
tomorrow. They’ll be here around two. And you know.” He eyes the door.
“Let’s not tell anyone about this. If the staff acts weird when they get here,
it might make for a bad vibe.”
I lock my knees and curl my toes into my shoes. A bad vibe? What sort
of vibe is he feeling right now?
“I won’t say anything. But I swear, Oliver, I don’t have anything else to
give you. You have to find that money or make a deal with them to pay
back what you owe. But don’t bring them back here ever again.” I stick my
finger in his chest.
“Of course. You’re right. Absolutely,” he nods as he backs his way to
the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And he’s gone.
“Hey.” Joey pops his head into the office. “Just wanted to let you know
that catering order called. They screwed up the time or something, they
don’t need the order until two now.”
A stroke of luck.
“Thanks, Joey.” I sink back into the chair, feeling a little bit more
relaxed.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good,” I nod. “How’s the order coming?”
He grins. “About halfway in. I can finish if you need to hang in here.”
“Just give me a minute and I’ll be out to help.” I force a smile. Joey
goes back to the front, and I’m left logging onto my laptop to check the
lobby hours of my bank. I doubt the Romanovs are going to want a personal
check when they come tomorrow.
I’ll need to run to cash a check after the lunch rush.
So much for the new ovens.
Nikolai

Chatter stops when I walk into the back room of Whiskey Run. Five of my
men sit around a table, empty glasses in front of them and a bottle half
empty in the middle of the table, cards strewn about.
Boris is the first to get up. “Nikolai.” Boris’ cousin owns the bar, so he
lets him use the back room for poker games whenever he wants.
“Bit early, isn’t it?” I ask, eyeing the dark rings under a few of their
eyes.
“More late, I’d say,” Yogi laughs and gets up from his chair. “Didn’t
realize the time.”
I glance at the other men. They grumble as they get up, collecting their
winnings and downing the last of their drinks.
I make a show of checking my watch. “It’s fucking eleven o’clock.
Have you assholes been playing all night?” It would account for the stale
stench of cigars and alcohol being so heavy back here.
“Oleg’s girl is pregnant. They found out it’s going to be a boy. So, we
celebrated,” Boris explains. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and
starts to gulp it down.
Oleg grins; he’s missing another tooth since the last time I saw him.
“Congratulations,” I say with a nod.
It takes only another minute before they gather up their shit and head
out, leaving Boris, Yogi, and me alone.
I pull a chair from the table and sit down, stretching my back out against
the wood backing. It’s been a long week, not that I have an actual work
schedule. I don’t have weekends off.
 “So. What’s the concern?” I fold my arms over my chest. I’ve known
Yogi and Boris for years. They worked alongside me when I was learning
exactly what my father does for a living. Having them be the head of my
own crew wasn’t a hard call to make. I trust them as much as I trust my two
older brothers and father.
Boris sighs and hooks his hands on his hips. “I hope I’m wrong,
Nikolai. I really fucking do.” He shakes his head and heads to where his
jacket is hanging on the hook near the door. He digs out a small baggie and
brings it to me, dropping it on the table.
“What’s this?” I pick it up and take a closer look. Pills. Purple tablets
with a bear stamped on one side. “Why are you showing me our own
product?” Ecstasy is a top seller, easy to move and always in demand.
“Found that yesterday while dealing with a defaulted loan.” Yogi pops
open a pill bottle and shakes out a few aspirin. It’s going to be a long day
for these fucks after spending the night drinking and playing poker.
“So?” I drop the baggie back on the table.
“So, he didn’t get it from one of our guys. Or at least that’s what he
said,” Boris explains. “He wanted to save his left hand, so he offered
information in exchange. He told us he bought those pills off a Polish guy
on the subway.”
“Polish?” I lean forward again, taking another look at the stamp. “How
did he know the guy was Polish and not Russian? The accents are easy to
confuse by someone who doesn’t know better.”
“Because the guy had a Polish flag tatted on his fucking neck.” Yogi
points to the left side of his neck.
We aren’t an equal opportunity employer; our cooks, our runners, our
distributers, and our dealers all have Russian blood running through their
veins. Almost all of them have strong ties to our families, or our allies.
“How’d this Polish guy get our product?”
“He didn’t know. He recognized the stamp once he got the shit home.
He wasn’t going to go back and ask.” Yogi throws back the aspirin and
chases it down with what’s left in his glass.
I wipe my hand across my mouth. “Someone’s selling on their own
then.”
“That’s my guess. Unless this Polish prick just happened to have some
of our stuff and was trying to get rid of it.” Boris plays devil’s advocate.
“Can this guy get us in touch with the dealer?”
 Boris shakes his head. “It wasn’t a planned purchase. He ran into him
on the subway platform and doesn’t know how to get a hold of him.”
“Okay.” I stand up. “Then have this asshole take you to where he
bought it and see if the Polish guy is there again. If we’re lucky, like you
said, he may have just had some from his own stash he was wanting to get
rid of. If that’s the case, teach him a lesson in unauthorized resales.”
“And if not?”
“We need to have a longer conversation with him.” If that’s the case,
we’ll have a bigger problem on our hands than some asshole reselling our
product behind our back. “What do you two have going this afternoon?”
“Have a collection at two then we’ll track down our guy and head to the
subway,” Boris says, though he looks less than thrilled. “So long as the
collection goes easy. I sort of doubt it though; this guy’s a real dumbass.
Thinks he can smooth talk anyone. If he doesn’t have the cash, he’ll give us
a real song and dance.”
“Really?” I grin. “I could use some entertainment. I’ll join you.” It’s
been too long since I went on a collection run.
Boris raises his eyebrows. “You want to go on a collection run?”
“I won’t get in your way, just going for the fun,” I assure them. I’d trust
them with my life, and I don’t want them seeing me tagging along as a sign
I don’t. “Why don’t you two go get cleaned up, have a cup of coffee, then
swing by and pick me up. I have a meeting with my father, but we’ll be
done by the time you come over.”
“Sure thing,” Boris grins.
“Good.” My phone’s ringing so I answer the call as I head out to my car
parked in front. It’s going to be another long ass day; having a little fun
with them will do me some good.
Charlie

TEN MINUTES TO TWO O’CLOCK.

My stomach twists harder into a knot as the second hand ticks by on the
clock hanging over the deli counter. I check my phone for messages from
Oliver; nothing. I call him for the tenth time in the last hour since he hasn’t
shown up. Goes straight to voicemail.
“Charlie, why are you so tense?” Joey walks behind me, bringing a box
of chips to restock.
“No reason.” I fiddle with the stuff by the register, acting like I’m
straightening up but I’m staring at the front door.
They’ll be here soon.
“Charlie, I have a catering order that wants to know if we can split the
bill across three credit cards?” Silvia has her hand over the receiver of the
phone with her head popped out from the kitchen.
“Uh.” I wipe my hands on my jeans; my nerves are frazzled, and my
brain is bouncing too hard against my skull to think straight.
“I can just run three different amounts, that would work, right?” she
asks when I keep staring at her.
“What? Oh, yeah. That will work. Payment up front, though, Silvia.”
She nods. “You got it, boss.”
Joey finishes stocking the chips and carries the empty box past me.
I take the box from him. “I’ll take this out.” I need some fresh air. I have
five minutes before the Romanovs’ debt collectors come looking to break
my brother’s legs.
 “You okay, Charlie? You look pale.” His soft blue eyes fill with
concern. I don’t want him to worry.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just want a minute outside.”
“All right. I’ll handle these customers,” he says and I whip around to
see three men, all with midnight black hair, dressed in black slacks and
freshly pressed button-down shirts walking toward our door.
Time’s up apparently.
“No. That’s okay. I’ll get it. Why don’t you show Silvia how to run the
meat slicer again?”
“Why, don’t you like how I do it? You want to replace me with her?”
Joey asks, his face blank of emotion.
I do not have time for a full conversation about who has what job duties
around here.
“It’s good for her to know, Joey. In case she ends up being here when
neither of us are and she has to do it on her own.”
The bells hanging over the door ring, slamming the brakes on my heart.
“I’m just pulling your leg, Charlie. I think maybe it’s time you took a
vacation. You’re getting too tense.” He wags a finger at me then disappears
into the back.
The three men sit at the table in the far corner of the deli, closest to the
door. I check my phone once more, internally scream, then shove it into my
back pocket. The lunch rush, if you can call what we had a rush, is over.
These men are the only customers we have. And none of them seem
interested in the menu. They speak low to each other, like they don’t want
to be bothered.
And I don’t want to bother them.
But Oliver isn’t here. And I know him well enough to know he’s not
coming. He’s put the garbage at my doorstep and now I have to take it out.
I take a deep breath, wipe my hands on my jeans once more, then grab
the envelope I’ve stashed under the register drawer. In my head, I practice
my speech. With any luck, they’ll take the envelope, thank me for my time,
and walk out of the deli. Hell, I’ll even offer them a few subs. On the house.
They’re speaking low when I get to the table, but I can tell they’re
definitely speaking Russian. No need to keep their voices so soft when
talking in a foreign language. But I’m not going to point that out to them.
No. I’m going to hand the money over, offer them any sub they want, and
then wave goodbye.
 I don’t let the fact that this is the Romanov family I’m dealing with
sidetrack my positive vibes. I mean, sure, they’ve built a reputation in this
neighborhood that would put anyone on high alert when they’re around. But
I’m a woman. Surely, they don’t kill women.
Right?
My stomach drops when the man in the corner, the one with melted
chocolate brown eyes, raises his gaze to mine. The other men notice he’s
looking at me. They stop talking, turning their attention up to me as well.
But I’m locked in his gaze. His hair is mussed up, like he’s been running his
hands through it recently. He has a short beard, but it doesn’t take away
from his features like the thick beards of his partners. It makes him look
relaxed. But he’s not. He’s dangerous.
“Hi. Uh.” I clear my throat and roll my shoulders back. “I think you’re
here to meet Oliver, is that right?”
The man closest to where I stand leans back in his chair. “You his
secretary?” He laughs.
“No.” I squeeze the envelope I’m holding with both hands. Ten
thousand dollars isn’t as heavy as I thought it would be, but I’m not taking
any chances at dropping it.
“Is he here?” the other man asks. The one in the corner, though, he just
leans back in his chair and watches me with open curiosity. Like a train
wreck is about to happen and he wants to see if I’ll get out of the way in
time.
“No.” I clear my throat again. Why does it keep closing like that? “But I
think I have what you need.”
“Oh, that’s a real possibility,” the first guy says and his gaze glides over
me like I’m a piece of pork loin in the butcher’s display case.
“I mean, I have this for you.” I put out the envelope, aiming it at the
man in the corner. He hasn’t said a word, but I get the sense he’s in charge.
He looks at the man to my left and gives a nod. The guy takes the
envelope. Opening it, he thumbs through the bills, a frown settling on his
face. He shakes his head.
“It’s not all here.”
“How much is there?” the gawker asks.
“Ten grand.” He drops the envelope on the table and slides it at me.
“Wrong amount.”
 “Right. I understand that, but this is just a down payment. You’ll get the
rest, just not today. I mean, it’s a payment. Loans have payments, and that’s
what this is.” I push the envelope back at him.
“Oh. A payment. Hear that, Yogi, she’s making a payment.”
Yogi, the man across from him takes the envelope and looks through it
himself. “I’ll have to check the loan document, but I’m pretty fucking sure
the amount was a flat rate. Two hundred grand plus interest. This envelope
is two hundred forty thousand dollars short.” Yogi drops the envelope back
on the table. It’s like a toy for them. Everything I had saved up is in that
envelope and they’re tossing it back and forth like it’s a beanbag.
“Boris, Yogi. You’re being rude.” The man in the corner finally speaks.
“How do you know Oliver?”
“I’m his sister.” I raise my chin with my answer. I’m not sure if I’ve
given him ammunition against me, or if I’ve made things better with my
admission.
“Why is he not here?” He looks toward the swinging door that leads to
the back. “Or is he hiding?”
“He’s… I’m not sure why he’s not here.” I have no defense of my
brother, but I can’t let him get eaten by these sharks. “Maybe he got caught
up at work.”
Yogi laughs. “If he worked, he wouldn’t have come to us in the first
place.” His thick accent makes his comment seem darker somehow.
“Anyway, I’m sure he has a good reason. But I’m here. And I have the
money he was going to give you. He needs more time, but I swear to you,
he’ll pay it all back. Every penny.” I’m not sure how the hell that’s going to
happen, but that’s a tomorrow worry.
“Yogi, Boris.” The man in the corner rattles off orders in Russian and
they both get up from the table. I take a step back to get out of their way
when they walk past me, toward the sandwich counter. I watch them, afraid
they’re going to go into the kitchen where Joey is.
“What are they doing?” I ask.
“Nothing to worry about.” He stands up from the table. He’s taller than
he seemed when they walked in. Now that I’m this close to him, I can feel
his size. I barely come up to his chin, and his shoulders look ready to hit the
football field.
“You’ll take the payment then?” I pick up the discarded envelope and
try to hand it to him.
 “No.” He shakes his head and moves toward me. Instinctively, I step
back, but he follows me, taking up all the space between us until there’s
none. “It’s your money, not his.”
“You can’t know that,” I point out. He’s completely accurate, but he
doesn’t know it for a fact.
“When someone borrows the amount of money he did, we make
assurances we don’t lose our cash.” He looks around the deli with half a
frown.
“What does that mean?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at Yogi and
Boris. They’re leaning against the counter with their arms crossed; just
waiting on orders, I’m sure.
“If your brother doesn’t have the cash, we help him along. The
insurance on a place like this would cover his debt to my family.”
My family.
My mouth dries. He’s not just a Romanov thug. He’s a fucking
Romanov.
After that realization passes, I understand his meaning.
They’ll destroy the deli to get the insurance payment.
“No. You can’t.” I stand straighter, my voice raises. “You will not touch
this place.” My parents worked too damn hard for this place for it to be
destroyed by them.
“Do you have the money for me? The full amount.” His eyes pin me in
place.
“There has to be another way.” My fingers crunch the envelope. Why
can’t they just be reasonable and take the ten grand?
His gaze roams over my face, then down my body. A warmth runs
through my veins beneath his scrutiny. Unlike when the other guy looked at
me.
“We could kill him.” The left side of his mouth, his full lips, kicks up.
“Life insurance money is as good as any other money.”
“No!” I almost shout. “Don’t. Please. Don’t do that.” I sound pathetic,
but I’m not exactly packing anything that will protect me against these
guys.
“What would you do to keep your brother safe? To keep this little shop
running?” He takes another step toward me and then another, until my ass
hits the edge of the deli counter, and I can’t retreat any further.
 “What do you want?” I swallow down the lump of fear clawing its way
up my throat. These men could tear me apart. If I scream, Joey will run in,
and they’ll hurt him. Kill him even.
Mr. Romanov lifts his hand to my chin, pinching it between two hard
fingers. He pulls it up until he has his dark gaze locked with mine.
“What can you offer?” he asks, his nose brushing lightly against mine.
He smells like musky aftershave and stale cigar smoke. The tiny sensation
of his skin against mine, although brief, is enough to remind me it’s been
too long since I’ve had a man’s touch.
“Hmmm?” His voice rolls over me. “What can you give me?”
“Me?” The word falls out of my mouth before going through the proper
filters in my head. One, why would a man of his power, his strength want a
plain girl like me? Two, I’m not exactly worth two hundred and fifty grand.
That’s not a knock at myself; I’m being realistic. I eat too much ice cream, I
don’t get enough sleep, and it’s been a really long minute since I’ve been to
a gym. Men like him, they don’t give second glances to girls like me, much
less pay that kind of money.
“Done.” He lets go of my chin and gives his men a curt nod. “What time
does the deli close?” He takes a step back from me; the cool air of the air
conditioning brushes across my face.
“What?” I nearly choke on the question, because what the hell did he
just say?
“Time. What time does this place close?” he asks again as his men file
out of the deli.
“Seven. I mean, we close at six, but we’re usually done cleaning up by
seven,” I explain.
“A car will be here to pick you up. Don’t keep it waiting.” He takes the
envelope I’m still clutching to my chest and lays it on the counter behind
me. “Put that back in the bank.”
“Mr. Romanov, take the money. Please.”
He slams his hand over the envelope when I try to reach for it.
“Put it back in the bank, today,” he orders me. I blink, unsure of what to
say. ‘Thank you’ seems wrong because I have no idea what I’m actually
doing anymore. What did I trade for my brother’s life?
“All right,” I agree with a nod.
“Good.” He turns for the door but stops when he opens it. “And my
name is Nikolai.”
 “Okay.” That’s it. That’s all I can come up with. Too many things are
flying through my head to say much else.
He shakes his head a little, then steps out into the summer sun, letting
the door shut behind him. His goons are waiting for him on the sidewalk,
and once they have their leader, they walk away.
Air finally rushes into my lungs.
I survived.
My brother has survived.
But for how long?
Charlie

THE LOCK on the front door sticks, but with a jiggle or two, I have it
bolted in place and turn off the neon open sign. We’ve actually been closed
for half an hour. Maybe I was hoping stragglers would pop in and we’d
have to stay open late tonight. But no such luck.
I grab the last bag of garbage from the can up front as a black SUV with
tinted windows pulls up to the curb outside the shop. My fingers lose their
grip and the bag drops, spilling some of the contents across the floor.
“I’ll get it.” Joey hurries over to me. “I have to mop up here anyway.”
He bends down and starts shoving the wrappers into the bag. Joey’s
handsome, in his mid-twenties; shouldn’t he be getting ready for a date or
something instead of picking up the trash I dropped?
“I can do it. Why don’t you take off? I’m sure you have better things to
do.” I reach for the bag, but he shakes his head.
“Naw, Susan’s out of town for work. It’s just me and our cat until then.”
He pauses and looks up at me. “And I hate that damn cat.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“I didn’t realize you had a roommate.”
“Fiancée,” he corrects me as he moves back to his feet and ties the bag.
“Oh.” I blink. “How did I not know that?” Because I’ve been more
worried about getting the sandwich shop moving in the right direction, so
my father’s dream doesn’t die with him, while trying to keep Oliver from
getting himself killed.
“When she gets back in town, I’ll have her come by so you guys can
meet her.” He shifts his gaze to the front windows. “Is that car going to just
sit there? The dry cleaners closed an hour ago and the insurance office is
closed for renovations.” In our little strip of businesses, we’re the only ones
still around. Making it a little too easy for men to show up and cause
trouble without witnesses.
“It’s fine,” I smile. “It’s… the car’s for me.” Even saying the words out
loud makes my stomach ache.
“What car is for you?” Mark, one of my father’s oldest friends stands up
from the booth in the back corner. He stops in every week for an Italian
hero. He likes to catch up and hang out while we clean the shop. I think it’s
his way of looking out for me now that Dad’s gone, so I don’t chase him
out. The staff has gotten to know him pretty well over the last year.
“I think she has a date,” Joey quips with a wink. “I’m gonna take this
out back and get the mop.”
“A date?” Mark looks out the window with his brows pulled down.
“What sort of man doesn’t come to the door for you?” The protectiveness
from my high school years immediately comes back to him as naturally as
breathing. He sounds just like my dad.
“He’s not here, Mark,” I say, thinking that will somehow soothe him.
“I’m meeting him, but I don’t have my car, so he sent one for me.” Am I
really trying to defend this man?
“He should come himself.” He points a finger in the air. “A good man
comes to the door; he doesn’t send some car like he’s having his dinner
picked up.”
Isn’t that sort of what he’s doing though?
I force a laugh. “You’re being old-fashioned. And it’s not a date date,
just meeting for a drink.” Why does this sound worse when I say it?
“You’re going dressed like that?” He changes his attention to the jeans
and the red collared t-shirt with the deli logo on it.
“I know.” I run my hands over my hips. “Not my best. I should cancel.”
“Cancel?” He shakes his head. “No. You go, have fun. You deserve
some relaxing time. But if this guy doesn’t come pick you up next time, get
rid of him.” He looks at Joey. “Finish up. We’ll go play poker at my place
and order a pizza.”
 “Didn’t you just eat an entire hero?” Joey raises his eyebrows.
“It’s this new medication the doc gave me. I’m an empty pit lately,”
Mark explains.
“I can still help close up.” I need more time to get my brain to grasp
what’s happening.
“No. You go.” Mark points his finger at me. “Have fun.”
“Go on, Charlie. I got this.” Joey hands me my purse he’s grabbed from
the back office on his way to the front door to unbolt it. “Have a good
night.”
Okay. I can do this. I can. I just need to get my feet moving first.
When I step outside the shop, the driver gets out of the SUV and jogs
around the front until he gets to the back door. He pulls the door open.
“Thanks,” I mutter and climb inside. The leather seats are cool from the
air conditioning in the car. Through the tinted windows, I watch Mark and
Joey laughing and working together in the sandwich shop while the car dips
beneath the driver’s weight when he climbs inside.
He’s silent as he pulls away from the shop and maneuvers through the
side streets to the nine-A. My chest tightens the further away from my
neighborhood we drive, and heat crawls up my neck. Now is not a great
time for a panic attack.
I turn the little knob on the back of the console to turn the airflow higher
in the back and push the vent to blow directly up at me. I will not arrive at
Nikolai’s doorstep passed out in the back of his car.
“We’re almost there,” the driver says with a thick Russian accent. He
gets off at the next exit ramp. The buildings get taller, more extravagant as
he maneuvers through the streets. A hotel room in this part of town is too
expensive for me, and he lives here?
We turn into a parking garage, ramping up my anxiety. There’s no time
for worries now. I’ve done this to myself.
One night. I can do this. It’s one evening and then I can figure out how
to keep Oliver from getting himself mixed up with this crap again. I’ll start
saving for the ovens again and I can pretend tonight never happened.
The car comes to a stop next to the elevator bay. Another man, dressed
in black slacks and a black button-down shirt, steps out into the light. His
sleeves are rolled to his elbows, exposing dark tattoos on both forearms.
Even his neck is covered in the ink, but it’s the gun holstered at his side that
grabs my attention.
 “That’s Viktor. He’ll take you to Mr. Romanov.” The driver unlocks the
doors and Viktor steps forward to open mine.
It takes an armed escort to get me upstairs? That’s completely normal.
Nothing to worry about. I wish I had learned to lie as smoothly as Oliver
when we were younger.
I slide out of the car and make my way to the elevators. Viktor shuts the
car door and with his long legs he reaches the button before me. He
smashes it with the side of his fist. Once inside, he punches in a code on a
small keypad and the elevator whisks us up.
I force myself to stand in front of the doors. When they slide open, I
won’t have Nikolai see me cowering in the corner. No matter how much I’d
rather be doing exactly that.
He’s not even there when they glide open. The elevator has brought us
right inside the condo. When I step out, Viktor follows. It’s beyond
gorgeous, this place. I’ve stepped into an Architectural Digest magazine
shoot. And this is just the foyer.
“Mr. Romanov will meet you in the dining room after you’ve changed.”
Viktor walks past me, stopping after half a dozen steps to glare over his
shoulder at me. “This way.”
“I didn’t bring anything to change into.” I try to keep up with his wide
strides, but he’s just too damn tall. He stops at a closed door on the left.
“In here. Once you’re cleaned up, I’ll bring you to the dining room.” He
moves to the opposite wall and leans against it. Apparently, he’s to be my
captor.
There’s a dress draped over the foot of the four-post king-sized bed. A
pair of black ballet flats lie beside it.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the standing full-length mirror in the
corner of the room, I frown. It’s been a long day. My hair is still pulled back
into a ponytail at the base of my neck and there’s a mustard stain below my
left breast. Not exactly what he thought he was getting, I’m sure.
There’s a bathroom attached to the bedroom—that I could fit my entire
apartment into—so I quickly wash up. I have a few makeup items in my
purse, so I reapply my mascara and run my comb through my hair. It’s not
perfect, but it’s at least untangled and lying loose around my shoulders.
The dress is a simple black one that ends mid-thigh. While it fits well
around the rest of me, I try to tug it down to make it stretch at least to my
knees. No luck.
 Taking the time to wash up and dress, I’ve been able to ignore the
reason I’m here. But now I’m dressed.
Viktor doesn’t even give me a glance when I open the door. He leads me
back down the hall and through a living room and through another hallway
until he brings me to a dining room beautiful enough to hold receptions in.
In the corner of the room, staring out the tall windows at the lit-up city
below, is Nikolai. He has the window open, and a light breeze blows in,
rustling his hair. He’s holding a cigarette in his hand when he turns to see
me. After taking one quick drag, he smashes it against the windowpane then
tosses it out the window.
The smell of smoke hits me a moment later.
“It fits.” He turns to face me, sliding his hands into the front pockets of
his trousers.
“Yes.” I run my hands down my stomach.
“You could have left your purse in the bedroom. No one’s going to steal
it.” He gives a pointed look at the strap across my chest and the purse
dangling at my hip.
“Yeah. No, I know that.” I work the strap over my head. “But I wanted
to give you something and I didn’t want to just carry it.” And my phone is
stashed inside. Just in case I need to dial a quick 911.
“What do you want to give me?” he asks, his eyes narrowing a fraction.
This isn’t a man who trusts people. Given his profession, I suppose that’s
normal.
I push the flap open on my purse and pull out the envelope. The same
one he refused to take earlier. It’s a lousy attempt to make this mess go
away, but I can’t not try.
His eyes darken when he sees it. “I told you to take that back to the
bank.”
“I know.” I roll my shoulders back. “But I thought maybe after you had
time to think about it, you’d realize taking the cash would be better.” I step
forward and put the envelope on the beautifully dressed dining table. I’m
not really sure what I expected from someone like Nikolai, but such
attention to detail on a dining table was definitely not part of it.
He stares at the envelope that I’ve placed on top of one of the place
settings for a long moment before shaking his head. With purposeful, heavy
steps he moves around the long table toward me. My insides want me to
turn and run from the room, his eyes have darkened so much. But I curl my
toes inside the ballet flats, a pseudo anchor.
When he gets to where I put the envelope he stops. “Men who defy me
rarely live to make the mistake a second time.” He drags his gaze up from
the table to meet mine.
I fold my hands in front of me to keep them from shaking.
“I’m not one of your men.” I raise my chin defiantly, as though this
somehow shows him how strong I am. “So, if you’re telling me that to scare
me, it’s not working.” I’m such a fucking liar.
The left corner of his mouth hikes up, like I’ve just told him something
amusing.
“No. You aren’t one of my men, but you are mine. You did offer
yourself, isn’t that right?” He steps closer to me. The stale smell of that
cigarette hangs between us.
I swallow, trying to keep the fear from turning into an all-out scream. “I
did.”
He lifts his hand up to my cheek, dragging the back of his knuckles
along my jaw.
Is he going to hit me?
“Turn around.” He drops his hand and takes a step back from me.
“Turn around?”
He raises his eyebrows, like he’s not sure how I can dare make him
repeat himself.
“Turn around and put your hands on the edge of the buffet.” He gestures
with his chin where he wants me to position myself.
My jaw clenches, trying to keep the protest away. I signed up for this. In
order to save my brother, I’ve put myself in his clutches. But it’s only for
tonight.
Closing my eyes, I shuffle around and press my palms into the buffet
table where a crystal decanter sits with glasses on a mirrored tray. Extra
plates and napkins are piled as well, just in case he invites the rest of his
family in to join us?
His foot lands beside mine. I can feel the stiff leather of his shoe
through the thin material of my flats. My shoulder is pressed against his
chest as he annihilates any space between us.
Nikolai releases a heavy breath, blowing through my hair. A heated trail
runs from my spine down to my ass, along with his featherlike touch. Once
he reaches my ass, he crumples the skirt of the dress into his hand, lifting it
up.
“You’ve been here barely an hour, and already you’ve disobeyed me
several times.” His voice is husky. “Why are you wearing your panties?”
I’m thrown by the question but recover quickly. “Because they’re
mine.”
He huffs a laugh. “Did I leave panties or a bra out for you on the bed
with this dress?” He slides his hand beneath the elastic of my cotton black
bikini panties. There’s a roughness to his fingers I wasn’t expecting as they
brush along my skin.
“No, but—”
“Then you shouldn’t be wearing them.” He grabs the elastic, rips them
down over my ass, and shoves them down my legs. Once clear of my
thighs, they drop to my ankles. I suppose I should be happy he didn’t tear
them.
He slips his left arm between me and the buffet, wrapping it around my
waist and hugging me to his body. There’s a thick, hard rod in his pants
pressing against my hip.
“What are you doing?” I ask when his free hand begins to rub circles
over both of my ass cheeks.
“I’m teaching you a lesson in obedience,” he says. His hand lifts then
crashes down over my cheek once, twice, and then he’s back to rubbing.
I blink, shocked that he did what he just did. I’m not a child! And even
when I was, my father never raised a hand to me.
“You’ve made your point.” I try to push up from the buffet, but he’s
already anticipated my move and tightens his arm around my middle.
“I haven’t even begun to make it yet.” And with this, he unleashes a
volley of swats. Alternating between cheeks, moving from one spot to the
next, he covers every bit of my ass. The shock wears off, and the pain seeps
in.
“Stop!” I try to wiggle free, but he’s too strong. He’s got me pressed
against his body, and he’s in complete control of where I can move. And I
can’t. Except to wiggle my ass, which doesn’t dissuade him at all.
“I don’t allow disobedience. And I don’t allow bad girls to go
unpunished,” he says without so much as a sign of tiring as he continues to
rain down sharp smacks to my ass, and now my thighs.
 As hard as I try, I can’t keep the yelps from escaping with each new
white-hot pain blasting across my ass.
“You’ll be a good girl for me now, won’t you?” He slaps my ass again,
then grabs the bottom of my cheek in his hand, squeezing until his neatly
trimmed nails dig into my flesh. A new sort of pain blossoms with this
sensation.
I suck in a much needed breath and nod my head.
“I didn’t hear you,” he says into my ear, sending an electric current
through my body to meet his hand still gripping my raw ass.
“Y-yes, Nikolai. Please, just no more.” I bow my head, willing my heart
to slow down, begging my lungs to work faster to catch up to the air.
“The next time, you’ll taste my belt.” It’s a promise I take seriously.
This is not a man to cross. He releases my ass cheek but doesn’t remove his
touch. Instead, he slides his fingers lower, between my thighs until he finds
my sex.
My hot, wanting sex that I would rather fall dead to the floor than let
him discover. When I try to snap my legs closed, he smacks my thigh.
“That’s being a bad girl again,” he chides me in that low, raw voice of
his that sets my nerve endings on fire. “Now stick out your ass and spread
your legs a little.”
With clenched teeth, I walk my feet apart twice until he has all the
access he wants. A tear travels down my cheek and drips off my chin. I’ve
never been so exposed, so vulnerable beneath a man’s attention before.
“Good girl,” he whispers and moves his hand up my inner thigh until he
reaches the place I want desperately for him to ignore. Until I can get a grip
on my emotions. Until I can figure out why my body is betraying me this
way, I would rather the floor swallow me whole.
Easily, his fingertips glide through my wet folds and brush across my
swollen clit. I clench my teeth, willing myself to have enough control not to
moan. No matter how easily his touch brings me pleasure, I need to keep it
to myself.
His warm lips press against my temple. “I’m going to enjoy taking
this.” He pats my sex, then slides his fingers back up through my ass cheeks
and presses a finger against my tight pucker. “And this.”
My heart slams against my ribs and drops. What the fuck?
“Nikolai.” A deep voice comes from the dining room entrance. I duck
my head further, not wanting to see the look on his face. “There’s a call you
need to take.”
Nikolai barks something at the intruder in Russian and their footsteps
fade away.
Slowly, he smooths out my dress over my ass before patting me there.
“Eat your dinner. Viktor will bring you to your bedroom once you’re
finished.” He bends down and picks up my panties, pocketing them with a
wink. “And you’ll wear only what’s left out for you unless you’d like to
repeat your lesson.”
I swallow and stand up straight, brushing my hair from my face. Tear
tracks mark my cheeks; I can feel them drying already.
“I’ll have your meal brought out to you.” He rubs the fat of his thumb
across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear, and brings it to his mouth. He
sucks it from his thumb with a smile. After another wink, he leaves me in
the elegantly designed dining room alone.
The window lets in a draft from where he’d been smoking when I
walked in, drawing my attention to the city lights displayed before me.
I’m a long way from home, from everything I understand.
Except my responsibility. To protect my family.
So on shaky legs, I walk to the dining table and take a seat, and a
woman with a wide smile walks into the room with a plate in her hands.
It’s one night. I can and will do this.
Nikolai

“DID SHE EAT?” I ask Mrs. Kuznetsova when I go to the kitchen for a
glass of water.
She closes the dishwasher and wipes her hands on a towel.
“She tried.” She gives me a small smile. “A few bites of everything, but
she said she wasn’t very hungry. She looked tired. I think she was just
tired.”
I nod. It wasn’t outright defiance, her not eating. Of course, I can’t be
certain, but I have a feeling about this girl. She took the lesson I gave her to
heart and wouldn’t risk another ass tanning just to keep from eating dinner.
It’s late, close to ten o’clock. She’s been on her own for a while now.
It’s time to see what she’s up to.
There are voices on the other side of my bedroom door when I
approach. I pause as I open the door, realizing it’s just her. She’s on the
phone.
“All right.” She’s standing at the windows, holding the thick curtains to
the side while peering out at the white lights of the city below. I softly close
the door, but she must hear me. Her back tenses.
She’s still wearing the black dress I’d left out for her when she arrived.
The thin straps over her shoulders do little to hide her from me. Her hair is
still loose down around her shoulders, but she’s swept it to her left shoulder,
exposing her neck. She’s toned. Not so much like a woman who gets up and
spends three hours in the gym every morning, but one that’s no stranger to
hard work.
“Of course, I understand, it’s all right. Just let me know.” Her tone has
changed; it’s more terse now that she knows I’m in the room.
I stand against the dresser, watching her. If she moves her gaze up the
window, she will see me more clearly in the reflection. But I think she’s
purposely ignoring my stare.
Another moment later, she hangs up her call, but doesn’t turn around.
“You didn’t leave any clothing on the bed,” she says finally, still not
facing me. “I didn’t know how long you’d be.”
“Is that your excuse for not changing?” She’s been alone in this room
for over an hour, maybe two—a fair man wouldn’t hold it against her for
not walking around a strange place naked. But I’m not a fair man.
She shoots me a look over her shoulder. “It’s not an excuse. There’s no
robe or anything and I wasn’t going to walk around wearing a sheet like
some sorority girl waiting for you to finally come claim your…” Her words
fade, and she looks back at the window.
Leaning back against the dresser, I hook one foot over the other and
cross my arms over my chest. “Come here.”
Her shoulders drop, but she doesn’t protest anymore. She turns around
and shuffles, barefoot, I notice, across the lush carpeting until she’s standing
in front of me. Not near me. I can’t reach out and touch her, but she’s at
least on the same side of the room as me.
“I’m here now.” I gesture with my chin toward her clothing.
There’s a little bob of her throat when she swallows. Is she trying not to
smart off to me, or is she trying not to lose what little of her dinner she ate?
Mrs. Kuznetsova was right. She does look tired. Like she hasn’t slept
well in ages.
Her fingers lightly touch the thin straps of the dress, pushing them over
her shoulders. I keep my attention focused on her eyes. Some women find
their confidence when they begin to unwrap their bodies. They know with
the right movements they can drive a man to his knees with desire. Others
sink into themselves, afraid they don’t have enough under the expensive
dress to impress.
This woman’s features don’t shift an inch as she pushes the dress down.
The flimsy material slides over her breasts, then over her hips and pools at
her feet. But still, my focus is those green eyes of hers. Stoic.
She lifts her chin, as though daring me to make a comment. Her fingers
wiggle at her sides. All of these things I notice, but I’m still diving deeper
into those eyes. She moves her gaze from mine to my chin, then to my
chest, then quickly snaps back up to my eyes. I wonder what thoughts are
flying through her mind at this moment. How many mantras has she
repeated in that head of hers?
“Are you close with your brother?” I ask, working the button on my cuff
open.
“You want to talk about my brother?”
“It’s why you’re here, right?” I pull my shirt out from my trousers and
work the row of buttons, starting at my neck. “Are you?”
Her gaze flickers to my hands as my shirt opens before her.
“We used to be.”
“That’s not what I asked.” There’s a lot to unpack here, I think.
“We aren’t as close as we used to be.” It’s the same answer, and not
more information.
“He’s younger?” I crumple my shirt in my hands and take it to the
closet, tossing it into the hamper.
“Older.” She folds one arm over her stomach, grabs her elbow with her
hand. It’s a protective stance. And seeing as she’s naked, in my bedroom,
she has a lot to be protective about.
I kick off my shoes and peel off my socks, leaving them both in the
closet and shut the door. Her answer hits a sour note.
“He’s your older brother.” I run my thumb along the bottom of my lip.
“Why’d he leave you holding the envelope today?” I ask, moving along
with my questions. If I dwell too long on the fact that the fucking prick is
using his little sister to hide behind, I might get derailed.
“I don’t know what happened. He was supposed to meet me at the deli.
He must have gotten caught up with something.”
She’s making excuses for him. I wonder how long she’s done this for
him, blocking him from trouble.
Yeah. I don’t want to go down this road right now. I’ll end up sending
Viktor out to find this prick tonight. And I promised he wouldn’t be hurt
when I agreed to take her deal. I’m an asshole. But I honor my word.
Her eyes go wide when I grab my belt buckle and work it open. A
tremor of uncertainty flashes in her eyes before she masks it again.
 “Don’t worry. I’m not going to jump you,” I assure her as I pull the belt
free of my pants. “You look like you’re about to face your death.”
She looks away.
When I approach her, I can see the tiny little bumps on her arms. The air
conditioning in here keeps the room cool, but I think there’s an entirely
different reason for her reaction. I fold my belt in half and run the leather
down her bare arm. Again, her throat works.
“What did I say about what to wear when you were in here?” I ask the
question, bringing my mouth closer to her ear. I can almost hear her
muscles lock.
“I already explained.”
“You did.” I move the leather across her chest, dipping it into the valley
between her breasts. Her dark pink nipples are pebbled. Her stomach
trembles as I drag the belt across it.
“I… not with the belt.” She turns away from me.
“No?” I bring it back to her breasts, lightly tapping the folded end on
her hardened nipples. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. To keep
from reacting, I think.
I don’t like it.
“Let’s see if you can avoid the belt then. Is your ass still sore?” I move
the belt to my left hand, letting it dangle behind her. I could just look at her
ass, it’s bare and right there, but I want her to answer instead.
“It’s fine.” She raises that damn chin again.
“Hmm. And your pussy?” I trail the back of my hand down her stomach
until I reach the small triangle of dark curls. Trimmed, not bare.
“It’s fine too.” She keeps her voice firm, her eyes fixated elsewhere.
Well, this won’t do. All this hiding.
I fist the curls in my fingers. It’s a shock, I’m sure, and she stumbles
forward half a step. Her eyes flash at me, her mouth drops open with her
gasp.
“You were wet before. Are you still?” I don’t let go. I keep her firmly in
place, her shoulder in the middle of my chest. “Show me.”
She doesn’t move.
“Dip your finger into your pussy and show me,” I explain, twisting my
fist just enough for her to feel it.
Her chest heaves as she takes deeper, faster breaths.
But she’s still not moving. She’s frozen.
Maybe I am going to have to use my belt on her after all.
Charlie

HE’S A FUCKING LUNATIC.

I grit my teeth, trying to bite back a groan because he’s twisting his
fingers again and the little hairs he’s grasped are sending electric pain up
my body.
“Go on. Remember, you’re trying to avoid the belt, not earn it.”
Slowly, I move my left arm—because my right is trapped against his
chest. It takes some maneuvering to get around his hand without touching
him, but I manage it. Touching myself isn’t new to me. Over the past two
years, it’s been only my own hand doing the fondling. But there wasn’t an
audience then.
And there sure as hell wasn’t a Russian mob boss ordering me to do it.
I’m unsurprised when I find the slickness between my folds. It’s not
something I can control, this arousal.
“Inside like a good girl,” he directs me; the roughness of his beard
scrapes against my bare shoulder as he looks down my body to watch me
obey him. “Now show me.”
I lift my fingers, noticing how the light from the dresser lamp makes my
own juices shimmer on my fingertip.
A tremor of pain runs across my skin as he releases me. His touch isn’t
gone for long though; he grabs my wrist and brings my finger to his mouth.
I watch, like a train wreck happening right in front of me, as his tongue runs
over my finger, then he closes his lips around it. His lips spread into a wide
grin when he pulls my finger out.
 “See how easy it is to be a good girl for me?”
Still holding my wrist, he walks me to the bed. He spins me around to
face him, and my ass brushes up against the bedding. It’s a high bed, with
thick comforters that look more like a cloud than a bed. But I don’t think
I’ll be sleeping any time soon.
“How often do you touch yourself?” He lowers his lips to my shoulder,
pressing a soft kiss. Much more tender than I expect from him.
“Enough.” How the hell am I supposed to answer such a question?
He kisses my neck, bites hard on my earlobe. “That’s not an answer.
Remember, I still have the belt.”
My insides clench.
“Why do you ask? Do you want a show?” I can’t stop the retort from
spilling out of my mouth. I’m nervous. And when I get frazzled, sometimes
snark falls out.
He chuckles. “Maybe later.” He drops the belt to the floor and using
both hands, lifts me up by my hips and deposits me on the bed. “First, I
want more.”
Before I can ask more of what, he has me pushed back on the bed and is
climbing on with me, between my thighs.
My brain realizes what’s about to happen only a split second before his
hot tongue sears a trail of arousal down my inner thigh then touches my
wanting, waiting clit. My stomach sucks in as my mind reels from the
sensation his tongue elicits. I fist the comforter beneath me as his tongue
swishes over my clit, then around and then over. I can’t keep up with the
movements, I’m only able to ride the waves as he continues.
Soon, his finger—his thick, long finger—presses against my opening.
“So good,” he mutters against my pussy as he pushes his finger into me.
It’s not like the other men I’ve been with. He’s not just jackhammering
away with his finger. No, he curls his finger, seeking out that tender spot.
And the moment he finds it, he grins up at me.
I hiss when he presses against it, when he drags his finger over it and
continues to torture me with his tongue.
“Fuck.” I grab hold of my own hair, trying to forget what’s happening.
This man has taken complete control of my body. Instead of flinging insults
at him, I’m spreading my thighs further, wanting more of what he’s giving.
“Such a good girl when given the right encouragement.” He slips a
second finger inside of me.
 I clench my eyes closed. Would denying myself the pleasure do
anything but punish myself? But still, he shouldn’t be able to work my body
so damn easily.
It’s only a few more strokes of his fingers before the pressure builds to
an unrelenting urgency. My feet are flat on the bed, my toes curled and my
thighs squeezing.
“Almost there,” he mutters and swirls his tongue around my clit again
and again, increasing his strokes, curling his fingers again.
It’s a whirlwind. One second, I can breathe, the next I can barely see.
Harsh pellets of pleasure rain down on me. My hand is over my mouth,
trying to keep my scream silent, but it’s not working. I’m sure his men can
hear me.
Hell, I’m sure the doorman can hear me downstairs.
Slowly, the waves ebb and I open my eyes.
Nikolai leans over me, his dark eyes lined up with mine. So caught up
in my own aftermath, I didn’t realize he’d shifted.
Slowly, while he has my attention captive, he slips his fingers from me
and reaches up to my wrist. He pulls it away and pins it beside me.
“Never cover your mouth again. I want to hear every decibel of your
screams.” His words are delivered flat, but firm. “Do you understand me?”
I nod silently, because I’m not sure my vocal cords can work yet. And
I’m a little dazed.
I start to slide away from him, but his hands on my hips stop me. “I’m
not done with you yet.”
I look down the length of my body and find his hand wrapped around
his thick shaft. When did he take off his pants?
“I’m…” I have no idea what I’m going to say, and he doesn’t wait for
me to figure it out. In one fluid movement, he’s inside of me. Stretching me.
I cry out and he stills. It’s been too long. I’m not used to this.
“Fuck,” he groans, then slowly begins to move. He pulls back enough
that his cock slips from me, leaving me feeling empty. It’s almost worse.
Another hard push and he’s back inside, and this time he’s taking no
breaks. His fingers dig into my hip as he plows forward over and over
again. The heat of being stretched by him morphs quickly into a bite of
pleasure that makes my pussy even more slick.
Why does everything he does make me want even more?
 His head dips and he takes one of my nipples between his teeth. A quick
bite to get me to cry out and then he releases it, a wide grin spread over his
face.
Such an arrogant fuck.
It’s not long before the pressure is back. The urge to chase after the
utopia barrels down on me.
“Ah, there she is.” He reaches his hand between us, finding my clit
easily and flicking it firmly then softly rubbing it in circles. His cock
pounds into me again and again.
I can barely remember to breathe, but he’s focused on many things at
once.
“Oh. Oh.” I lift my feet, hook them around his waist. I need more, all of
it.
“That’s a good girl.”
It’s a pinch.
One little pinch of my clit that sends me reeling over the edge for the
second time. I lift my hand to cover my reaction, but he pins it down to the
mattress.
“Let me hear you,” he demands as the waves overtake me and I lose
control of my voice and my body.
I’m barely out of the cloud before he grips both of my hips and pumps
harder and harder into me. The headboard bangs against the wall—a sound
I’m sure the staff is used to hearing.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chants as he chases down his own release.
He thrusts. Again and again, and then yanks back, pulling his cock from
me and wrapping his hand around it. I watch, eyes wide, heart racing, as he
pumps his cock, releasing thick, hot ropes of cum onto my belly.
His chest heaves with his breath, and he falls forward to brace his hand
on the bed.
“Stay here,” he orders, his voice back to being all business, and he gets
off the bed. He grabs his pants from the floor and tosses them into the closet
before disappearing into the bathroom.
His cum, sticky and hot, rolls across my stomach.
When he returns with a towel in hand, he doesn’t just toss it at me like I
expect. He sits beside me on the bed and carefully wipes away his seed with
the soft, warm towel. It’s a silent act, and neither of us seem intent on
having a conversation.
 None of this is what I expected.
When he’s done, he gets up from the bed again and takes the dirty towel
to the closet. He emerges wearing a new pair of pants and a dark blue t-shirt
that hugs his broad shoulders and chest.
His dark eyes roam over me, still lying on the bed.
“I have work to do. Get some sleep.”
The door clicks behind him when he leaves, and I’m alone.
I’ve just used my body to save my brother’s life.
I know I should feel dirty.
I should feel used and disgusted.
But all I feel is sleepy and content.
Charlie

MY CLOTHES from the day before have been washed and left in a neat
pile on the dresser when I wake the next morning. Even the mustard stain is
gone.
The bed is empty, and the other side is chilled when I stretch my arms
out. I’m not sure what piece of heaven the Romanovs stole to make this
bed, but I’m all for it. I’ve never had such a deep sleep before. Though that
could also have been thanks to the exhaustion from waiting up for Nikolai.
It was past one in the morning when I finally gave over to my heavy eyelids
and drifted off.
If the other side of the bed wasn’t messed the way it is, I would have
thought he hadn’t come to bed at all. But there’s also a moment that I recall.
It was brief, and I was stuck in that limbo spot of sleep where I couldn’t
open my eyes, but my brain was still aware. I’d felt a heavy arm drape over
my stomach and was dragged inches across the bed. It was a source of
warmth, and I’d snuggled into it then fell right back to sleep.
Digging around my purse, I find my elastic band and work my hair into
a thick braid. It’s still early enough that I’ll be able to stop at my apartment
to grab a shower before heading down to the sandwich shop. I run my hands
down my shirt; it’s been pressed too. At least I’ll look somewhat put
together for my walk of shame.
I hate that term.
What do I have to be ashamed of? So, I had sex with a mob boss to keep
him from breaking my brother’s legs—or worse. At least it’s over and I can
concentrate on getting the new ovens for the store, and maybe even starting
an online order portal. We need to modernize to keep up with the chains
that keep cropping up around us. There’s no time to get stuck in the past.
I quietly close the bedroom door when I step into the hallway. I’m not
sure exactly who sleeps in all of these other bedrooms, but I don’t want to
disturb anyone who might still be sleeping.
Viktor, my babysitter from last night, stands at the elevator with his
hands folded in front of him, his eyes cast off into the distance. He’s a
regular guard dog.
I flash a smile anyway, because why leave with such sour feelings. It’s
awkward enough without making an argument of it.
“Where are you going?” Nikolai’s voice carries through the foyer from
behind me.
Did Viktor’s lips just twitch?
“I’m going home,” I say while turning around to face him.
He’s fully dressed for the day in a black suit and tie. If I didn’t know
who he was, I’d think he was heading to Wall Street for the day.
“You’re doing what?” His brow rises. The leather soles of his shoes
click softly against the tiling as he finishes approaching me. “I must have
heard you wrong.” He presses two fingers to the back of his ear, like he’s
trying to hear me better.
“No, you heard right,” I grin. I’m not sure where my boldness has crept
out of, maybe it’s from the deep sleep I had last night. “I’m going home. I’ll
get a cab,” I say, just in case he thinks I’m getting in a car with Viktor.
“You’re wearing your uniform.” His gaze roams down over my body
like a man who’s had one bite, but still wants the whole pie.
“Well, I wasn’t going home in your dress.”
“Your dress. It’s yours now,” he corrects with a finger up in the air.
“What makes you think you can just come and go as you please?”
I blink a few times, not really sure how to process what he’s trying to
say.
“Because I can,” I finally say, but the look on his face makes me second
guess my statement.
“What was the offer you made yesterday?” He steps even closer to me,
taking up the space that gave me a false sense of security. Now he can touch
me. Now he can grab me. Now, if he just leaned down, he could kiss me.
“Last night—”
 He presses his finger to my lips. “What was the exact offer? What did
you say when I asked what you could offer?” He slides his finger down
from my mouth.
I remember that moment. A second of insanity that had led to this
moment of craziness.
“I said me.” I shrugged. “But, last night—”
He leans down, his aftershave wrapping me in its warm musk, to my
ear. “As good as last night was, Charlotte, do you think it was enough to
satisfy a quarter of a million dollar debt?”
A shiver runs down my spine and heat blasts across my face.
That’s exactly what I had thought.
One night for one debt.
I’m a complete fool.
“You offered yourself, and that’s what I collected.” He stands straight
up again and slides his hands into his pockets. He has this relaxed look
about him that makes me want to punch him. My stomach is rolling itself
into a pretzel while he looks like he’s spending the day at the damn beach.
Silence stretches out between us, filling in the gaps of awkwardness and
fear.
“How long?” Words finally form.
He blows out a long breath through his nose, like he’s thinking it over.
“Your offer didn’t have any conditions on it.”
He can’t be serious.
“Forever?” My eyes bulge and I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit.
“You’re insane. Why would anyone make that offer? Why would you even
take that offer?” Panicked nerves have taken over now. “Why the hell
would you want me, of all people, forever? That’s insane. I mean one night,
okay, fine, but more than that? You’re insane.”
He captures my hand that I’ve been waving around in rhythm with my
words.
“You said that already.” He looks over my shoulder at Viktor and jerks
his head. The hulking guard leaves and I’m not sure if that’s an
improvement or not.
“It remains true,” I say, though my voice softens.
“One month.” He drops my hand and runs the tip of his tongue over his
top lip. “I have things to do this month that will require me to have
someone at my side. Boring dinner parties. I own you for one month and
then you’ll be free.”
The lightness I felt when I woke up this morning has evaporated. A pair
of cement shoes would be more comfortable at the moment.
A man like Nikolai Romanov has to have women lining up to be the
ornament on his arm. He’d give up a quarter million dollars just to keep me
for the month? He really is insane.
“And if I don’t agree? What happens to my brother?”
His face hardens. “His debt gets reinstated.”
My situation hasn’t improved since yesterday afternoon. Oliver is still
in danger, and I’m still going to be under the thumb of Nikolai Romanov.
“I would suggest taking my money, but you were pretty clear yesterday
about what you thought about that.” I’m trying to make light of it, but
there’s a tiny bruise on my left ass cheek that will remind me exactly what
he thinks on the subject.
“Smart girl.” His teeth show when he smiles this time. “One month,
Charlotte.”
“You’re not giving me a choice.”
“I am. You can leave here, go about your life. Your brother’s debts are
his problem. He’s a big boy; let him deal with the consequences.”
“You’ll hurt him.”
Nikolai stares at me, his jaw tense, his eyes dark. Of course he will. It’s
not a question of if, it’s when.
“One month.” I play with the terms in my head. “I have to work. And I
can’t stay here.”
“You live in the apartment over the deli, alone. There’s no reason you
can’t stay here.” He’s done his homework.
“But—”
“Viktor.” He gestures for him to come back from wherever he’s been
tucked away. “Take Charlotte to work and when she’s finished, bring her
back here.” He brings his eyes to mine. “Pack a few bags and Viktor will
bring them here for you.”
“People will notice that I’m not staying upstairs. What am I supposed to
tell them?” In reality, I doubt anyone will notice at all. I’m usually
downstairs before any of them get there.
“Tell them whatever you want.” He shrugs and pulls my envelope from
his inside pocket. Handing it to Viktor, he says, “On the way to the shop,
stop at her bank and get this deposited.”
“You got it.” Viktor takes the envelope and moves to the elevator,
pressing the button to call it for us.
Nikolai looks down at me. “See you tonight.” And with that, he turns on
his heel and walks away. Again, I’ve been dismissed.
“The elevator is here,” Viktor remarks after the soft ding signals it.
I want to scream after Nikolai. An insult, something, but nothing comes
to mind. I’ll figure this out. I get this worked out. I can do that. I just need a
minute to think.
Lucky for me, I have at least ten hours before my workday is over.
Surely, I can come up with a plan by then.
Nikolai

MY FATHER and brothers are already at the restaurant when I arrive.

Beside my father is Ivan. He’s not family by blood, but he might as well be,
he’s been at my father’s side for so long. His family and ours made the
move from Russia to America together when they were young men.
“Nice of you to join us.” Roman, the oldest of my brothers, cocks an
eyebrow at me as I take a seat. A glass of water is placed in front of me as
well as a shot of vodka.
“I had to take care of something.” I down the shot and grab the bottle on
the table to pour a second.
“Leave him alone. We all have shit to do, sometimes it takes longer than
others.” Dad waves a hand over the table. “I already ordered for you,
Nikolai. I’m fucking hungry and I wasn’t waiting on you.”
I nod. “Not a problem.”
“Good.” Dad leans back in his chair. Ivan owns this place, so we can
speak candidly. Especially since we’ve been given the table in the back,
away from the other customers dining at the moment.
A text comes through on my phone and I check it. Nothing important,
but while I have my phone out, I swipe it open to the tracking app I put on
Charlotte’s phone last night while she slept. I haven’t heard anything from
her or Viktor since they left the condo this morning and I want to be sure
she’s where she’s supposed to be.
It might cross a line for her, but she hasn’t drawn any yet. I can be
honest enough to admit I wouldn’t give a shit if she did anyway. Like I said
this morning. She’s mine for the next month and while she’s mine, she will
be protected. If that means she has to give up a little privacy, so be it.
The signal shows she’s at a medical building. I send a quick text to
Viktor asking what’s going on.
“Hanna will be sending out invitations this week, but Gregor called me
last night to let me know that the christening for Julianna will be in three
weeks,” Dad informs us. Our cousin and his wife have just welcomed their
first child. While they don’t live in New York, most of her family and all of
us do, so they’ll be coming home for the event.
“So put it on your calendars. No excuses for not being there.” Dad gives
a pointed look at Arman.
“I’ll be there. Of course I will,” Arman defends himself and picks up his
phone to enter the date.
“Good.”
Ivan signals that the food is coming, and we fall silent as the plates are
placed on the table. I wasn’t particularly in the mood for braised beef, but I
know better than to complain.
“Thank you.” Ivan smiles at the waitress, a young blonde girl with large
brown eyes, who gives a grin back before hurrying off.
“She’s new,” Arman says, eyeing her as she disappears into the kitchen.
“And off limits to you.” Ivan points a finger across the table. “But
maybe Roman might want to meet her. She’s a family friend.” He cuts into
his steak.
“I’m not in the market,” Roman stifles the suggestion.
“Like hell you aren’t.” Dad narrows his eyes. “I’m an old man, Roman.
I would like to meet at least one of my grandchildren before I get tossed in
a grave.”
“No one’s tossing you anywhere.” Roman sips his drink. “When I’m
ready, I’ll settle.”
“When he’s ready.” Dad points at Roman while making a face at Ivan.
These two have spent too much time together lately. They’re starting to act
like an old married couple.
“There’s always a match to be made with my daughter, Anya,” Ivan
says between bites.
“Anya is a child.” Roman shakes his head.
“She’ll be twenty-one next month,” Ivan argues.
 “Maybe she won’t want to marry an ugly man like Roman,” Arman
jokes, but his shoulders tense.
“She’ll marry who she’s told,” Ivan says, but the merriment has dropped
from his tone. I haven’t seen Anya since she was in grade school, but I have
a feeling the girl isn’t the docile woman he’d like her to be.
“I’m sure she’ll be a good wife,” Dad says as he finishes the last of his
meal. He leans back in his chair and places his hands over his stomach.
“Your food here gets better every time we come.” He grins.
I pick up a roll from the basket on the table and use it to mop up the
gravy on my plate. Dad’s not wrong. Ivan’s restaurant is one of the best in
Manhattan.
“Ah. There’s Kristoff. Come on, Igor, you haven’t met him yet.” Ivan
stands up from the table.
“Bring him here then, Ivan,” Roman pipes up. It’s important to him,
making sure people understand that my father isn’t a man that chases
people. If someone wants to meet him, they make the journey to him. Even
if it’s a few feet across a restaurant.
“It’s fine, Roman.” Dad waves him down and gets to his feet. “I see
someone else I need to say hello to.” He follows Ivan away from the table
toward another with two older women sitting alone near the windows.
“He likes to go around and greet the people that come here,” Arman
says. “These people live in this neighborhood. The more he befriends them,
the more they’ll look the other way when they see something they don’t
like.”
I watch him make his way around, greeting a few other women and men
before making his way to the table Ivan’s standing at talking. With both of
them occupied away from the table, I take the opportunity to let Arman
know I’ve taken care of a situation for him.
“By the way, the debt Yogi and Boris went to collect yesterday. It’s
forgiven for the time being.” I pick up my phone when a text comes
through.
“Which one? They went on a few pick-ups yesterday,” Arman laughs.
“Oliver Harrison.”
He looks like he’s checking his mental filing cabinet. “Two hundred
fifty thousand? You’re forgiving that? Why?” He sits up straighter now.
“Don’t worry about it. Just keep your guys off his ass unless I put the
debt back in place.”
 “You take the payment for yourself?” he asks with a wry grin.
It’s not something I, or my brothers, would do and he knows it. If I took
the cash and pocketed it, there would be a problem. “Shut up.”
I read Viktor’s message. Charlotte is not being cooperative about the
driving situation. When he told her he’d drive her to the doctor’s office, she
went out back to accept a delivery and took off in her little car instead.
“Okay, well, whatever it was, it better be worth the quarter mil.” He
downs the last of his drink.
I look up from my phone. “Odds are he’s going to come knocking on
your door for another loan. If he does, double the interest. We’ll make up
anything lost plus some.”
He shrugs. “You shouldn’t be on collection runs with those two.”
“No, probably not,” I grin. “But I get to have fun sometimes, too.”
“Yeah, guess so.”
“Nikolai, your phone is going off again. What’s going on?” Roman
stares at my phone dancing on the tabletop. An email I was expecting
finally arrived.
“Just some information I was waiting on.” I tuck the phone into my
inside pocket and stand from the table. “I’ll see you boys later.”
“Boys, he calls us boys.” Arman jerks a thumb at me.
“Overcompensating for being the baby of the family,” Roman assures
Arman. I’m the youngest by one full year. Not exactly the lowest fruit on
the family tree.
“I’m going to say my goodbyes.” I ignore their comments and make my
way to my father and Ivan.
It takes me twenty minutes to finally untangle myself from my father
and make my way to the car. It takes another half hour to get home on the
other side of the city where I can read the email without being disturbed.
Once in the quiet of my office, I pull up the email on my laptop and
open the file.
Charlotte Harrison is written at the top. I take off my jacket and get
comfortable in my chair. Time to do a little light reading before I go pick up
my little rebel at her deli.
Charlie

“SO. Are you going to tell me who your friend is over there?” Silvia
gestures with her thumb toward the corner booth where Viktor has remained
positioned since this morning. I’m beginning to think he’s not even human.
He hasn’t so much as had a glass of water all day.
“Nope.” I drop the roll of pennies into the register drawer and shut it.
“Something’s going on,” she says, following me through the kitchen.
“You spent the night with some guy and then bring this one back with you
to sit in the deli all day like he’s some undercover FBI agent ready to fight
crime?”
I pause when I get into the small stockroom that I’ve turned into an
office space off the kitchen.
“I assure you, Viktor is not an FBI agent.”
“Then who is he?” Silvia is probably the closest thing I have to a friend.
She never would have known I had come straight from Nikolai’s place
except her car broke down and her husband had to drop her off early on his
way to work.
“He dropped me off this morning.” It’s a non-answer, and Silvia glares
at me from the doorway. She wants the dirt and I’m not giving it up.
“You’re an adult,” she starts.
“Yep. I am.” I drop into the fifteen-year-old rolling chair and lift the lid
of my laptop.
“And if you wanted to spend more time with this guy, you should. Even
if he sends a bodyguard with you. I mean that’s a little weird, and actually
kinda concerning, but you deserve it.”
I turn my confused stare up at her.
“What?”
She shrugs. “You deserve a personal life, Charlie. You work your ass off
here.”
“You’re concerned about Viktor, but you think I should go for it anyway
with Nikolai?” I need clarification here because I think I’ve lost track of the
conversation.
“Yes. Be a twenty-six-year-old woman with every right to have a
personal life. Yes.” She nods, and from the firmness of her jaw I can tell
she’s serious.
Has Nikolai gotten to her?
“Well, you might be getting your wish. I think I’m going to see that guy
a lot more for a while.” I stop when she looks hungry for more information
than I’m willing to divulge.
“Good. That’s good. Should we be concerned that he sends a bodyguard
home with you?” she grins.
“He’s giving me a ride after work. I’m not sure what made him stick
around all day.” It’s the worst excuse I could possibly come up with, and
from the look on her face, she knows it too. Thankfully, she backs off.
“Have you seen Oliver? I had a customer today ask about him.”
“No.” And I probably won’t. He left me with having to deal with the
Romanovs on his behalf and now he’s disappeared. The coward probably
won’t resurface again until he’s certain his ass is safe. Which I could tell
him it is, if he would just answer my calls.
“Did he say what he wanted with Oliver?” If he has more debts owed,
I’m not sure I can pay it. And if he’s gotten mixed up with other men like
Nikolai, the deli could be at risk.
“No, he just commented that he hadn’t seen Oliver around and asked if
he was still working here,” she shrugs.
Well, that’s not so scary. I hope.
“If you’re going to be seeing this guy more, maybe I’ll see if Joey will
rework the schedules to make sure there’s enough staff in the evenings, so
you don’t feel obligated to stick around,” she grins, then hurries off to do
exactly that.
I jump up from my chair, following her. She can move pretty fast when
she really wants to.
 “Silvia, you don’t have to do that.” I stop short after moving through the
swinging door into the restaurant.
Nikolai stands at the register, staring up at the menu. Joey waits
patiently for his order and Viktor is still sitting like a statue in the corner.
My movement must have caught Nikolai’s attention; he turns his head
toward me, and a smirk wiggles onto his lips.
“Never mind. I see what I want,” he tells Joey and heat blasts across my
cheeks. Forget the somewhat cheesiness of his comment, it’s his look—his
starving beast eyes his prey look—that has me wanting to turn the AC
down.
He’s a damn mob boss. I need to remind myself of that. He may look all
professional in his tailored suit, but he’s not just a businessman that buys
real estate like most people buy new underwear. No. He’s the son of a well-
known ruthless Russian mafia czar. Just because the police haven’t been
able to get their cuffs on anyone in their family doesn’t mean anything. And
just because Nikolai looks like an office stiff doesn’t mean he can’t break
my neck with one squeeze of his hand.
And yet. When he flashes that damn look of his at me, my body reacts
without a second thought.
“Joey, Silvia wants to talk to you about the schedule.” I wave him away
from the register. Silvia looks at Nikolai then turns to look at me over her
shoulder. I shake my head. I’m not sure what sort of introduction I’m
supposed to give between them.
Silvia, Joey, this is Nikolai. He’s bought me—yes, you heard that right,
he’s bought me for a month so that he won’t have to break every bone in
Oliver’s body.
“You didn’t answer my texts.” Nikolai slips his hands into his pockets.
Silvia and Joey walk off into the kitchen and Sandra, one of the part timers,
is sweeping up around the tables.
“I’m working.”
His eyes narrow. “You left work and didn’t let Viktor drive you.”
I sigh. “I didn’t need an escort to the doctor’s office.”
“I don’t think you understand the way this game is played.” He tilts his
head to the right; his dark eyes roam over my body. “Have you packed
yet?”
Seriously?
 “I’m working,” I say again, harder this time. “Can’t you wait until after
I’m done to be… well, you?”
He makes a point of checking his watch that’s wrapped around his left
wrist. “It’s almost six. I’d say your day’s over.”
“We don’t close until nine tonight. It’s Friday.”
“I’m sure your staff can handle it from here.” He glances at the kitchen
door. “Why didn’t you introduce me?”
I laugh. It’s immediate and hard. I mean, what kind of crazy question is
that?
“And say what exactly?”
“The truth.” He leans over the counter. “I don’t like liars.”
I eye him for a moment, trying to gauge his tone. Is he trying to tease
me? I mean, in his line of work, doesn’t everyone lie? How can he possibly
know who to trust, or who is ready to slit his throat?
“Let’s just leave them out of this.” I’m not ready for that conversation.
His eyes are like dark chocolate, and the longer I stare at them, the more
I melt into them. Not a great start for the evening. He isn’t the sort of man a
girl should trust her heart to, not that he’s asked for my heart. In fact, he’s
been pretty clear which parts of me he wants, and my heart isn’t one of
them.
“Did you pack your things?” he asks again after an obscenely pregnant
moment passes.
“I didn’t have a chance. Are you sure I really need to? I mean, I do have
a car. I can drive over to your place when you need me—” My mind blanks
after that. I’m really turning into a natural call girl for him, aren’t I? Just
send a message and I’ll scoot my ass clear across the city for whatever
needs you have of me that night.
“When I need you for what?” he asks with a twitch of his lips. I think he
likes making me uncomfortable.
“Charlie, Mark’s here.” Silvia blows through the door with Mark on her
heels.
“Just picking up the stuff for the pantry,” Mark says, coming to a full
stop when he sees me.
It takes more strength than I would have thought to break my eye
contact with Nikolai and turn to him.
“I think Joey made the sandwiches in the back.” Information finally
loads in my brain. Mark has been volunteering at the local food pantry since
he retired from the police force twenty years ago.
“You donate sandwiches?” Nikolai asks, sounding surprised.
“Yes,” I say, glancing back at him. “As much as we can; this week
we’re only able to do a hundred six-inch subs.” We might have been able to
do more, but the bread we had looked ready to turn by morning and I didn’t
trust it.
“Hundred is plenty.” Mark walks over to me, then eyes Nikolai harder.
“You the guy who took Charlie out last night?” Mark asks, stepping up
to the counter. My stomach drops. I can’t have them talking. I don’t want
them to have this conversation.
“Yes, sir,” Nikolai answers in the most respectful tone I’ve heard in my
life. I slowly turn to be sure it’s still him standing there and not some other
man. “I’d like to take her out again tonight, but she’s fighting me. Says she
has to work.” Oh, he’s good. Playing Mark against me.
“Pfft.” Mark swishes a hand through the air. “Silvia, you need Charlie
tonight?”
“Nope. Joey and I have it.” Silvia smiles from behind him. She has no
idea what game she’s playing. Or who she’s playing it with.
“She takes pride in her work,” Nikolai continues. I shoot him a glare,
though it seems to bounce right off of him.
“She’s a workaholic.” Mark points an arthritic finger at me. “Just like
her mother that way.” His smile fades at the edges. “Take her out and make
her have fun.” Mark pulls his cell phone from the back of his jeans. “Okay,
I got to get those subs and get over to the pantry. The distribution shift is
just about ready to start making the boxes.”
“I guess that’s settled then,” Nikolai says and walks toward the kitchen
door. “I assume the stairs up to your apartment are out back?”
I glance at Joey who is in the corner talking with Silvia. Probably
gloating, those two.
“Joey, I’m taking off for the night,” I call over to him.
“All right, Charlie.” He waves at me, then goes back to talking to Silvia.
Is no one around here the least bit concerned about these two men in our
store? Viktor still hasn’t moved.
“Viktor. I’ll see her home. You can take off.” Nikolai releases his hound.
Viktor nods, gets up, buttons his jacket, and casually walks out of the shop.
I think I’m in an old episode of the Twilight Zone.
 “Now.” Nikolai presses his hand to the small of my back as we enter the
kitchen. “Let’s see your apartment and get you ready to go.”
Heat shoots up my spine from where his hand touches me. I take a faster
step, moving away from his touch. I will do what I’ve agreed to do, but I’m
not going to let myself get into a position where I get hurt.
A month of ‘dating’ Nikolai is all I signed up for. And that’s all that’s
going to take place. This is a business transition.
Nothing more.
Nikolai

HER APARTMENT IS EXACTLY how I imagined it would be. Extremely

organized, neat, and minimal. Other than a few family photographs on the
end table in the living room, there is little decor. It’s not something I
normally would notice. I hire people for that sort of thing, but it mirrors her
personality. The bare minimum for herself, but the store downstairs is
different. I can tell she gives all of herself to the business.
“I’ll just pack a few things for the weekend,” she says as she pulls a
carryon suitcase out of the hall closet. She carries it to the single bedroom at
the end of the hall, and I open the closet and grab the larger suitcase.
“Pack enough for the month.” I toss the black hard-shell suitcase onto
the bed.
She eyes me, her lips curled together in a straight line.
“Whatever.” She shrugs and opens her closet door. As she slides the
hangers over, looking through her clothing, I see jeans, t-shirts, a few skirts.
Nothing that will work for the places we’ll be going while she’s with me.
In the end, she folds up her jeans and shirts and puts them in the larger
suitcase then grabs fistfuls of panties and bras from the three-drawer chest. I
watch with my shoulder pressed against the doorframe as she grabs things
from the bathroom and tosses them in as well, and then she picks up a
leather-bound notebook from the nightstand. She carries it pressed close to
her chest then buries it beneath the clothing in the suitcase.
Now I have to know what’s in it.
 “How long have you lived here?” I ask, not because I care but because
it’s too quiet and she might forget I’m here. And I won’t have her doing
that.
She tenses at my question. Yep, she was pushing me out of her mind.
“For a few years. My parents had leased the place when they first
opened, but my dad was finally able to purchase the store and this
apartment about six years ago. When the previous owner died, the family
didn’t want to deal with the leasing anymore, so they sold it to him.”
“A building like this, that was a good investment.”
“Not the whole building. Just downstairs and up here. Each storefront is
separate.” She pulls the zipper around the suitcase, sealing it.
“That’s unusual.”
She nods. “Yeah, I thought so too. A few companies have tried buying
the stores, but since they’ve already been split up it’s hard for them to get
everyone to sell.”
“Because they’d have to pay rent then. Right now, they own.”
“Right.” She pulls the suitcase from the bed and stares at me. “I guess
I’m ready.”
“For your execution?” I ask, pushing off the doorframe. She’s tense and
stressed and I can see her mind reeling a thousand miles a minute.
“What?”
“You look like I’m about to have you killed.” I step up to her and reach
behind her, unclasping the hair clip holding up all that hair of hers. The
chestnut locks fall around her shoulders, instantly softening her look.
“That is something you could do,” she points out, but the tint of pink on
her cheeks tells me she didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“It is, yes.” I rest my hands on her hips. “Have you stolen from me?
Killed a member of my family? Hurt someone close to me? Lied to me?” I
ask when her eyes finally travel from my chest up to my face.
“No,” she says softly. “You’d kill me for lying?” she asks as an
afterthought.
I move my hands to the buttons of her jeans. “No. But I will whip your
ass with my belt if you do.”
“Is that your answer to everything?”
“No.” I work the button open and move to the zipper. “But I like to be
upfront. If you behave badly, I’ll punish you.” I slide my hand into her
pants, under her cotton panties. “And when you’re good, like you’re being
right now, I’ll reward you.” My fingers glide through the short curls she
keeps and then further down I find the sweet button. She gasps the moment
I press down on her clit.
“Seems a little… simplistic.” She’s trying to keep her composure while
I swirl my finger around her clit.
“Simplistic?” I try not to laugh. Nothing about my life is simple. “Like I
said, I like to be upfront.” I lean down, kissing her cheek. “You’re so wet
already for me,” I whisper in her ear then trail my tongue over the outer
shell.
“It’s not my fault.”
Since she can’t see my face, I grin.
“It wasn’t an accusation.” I push my hand further down until I find her
pussy entrance. So much more arousal. “But if it was, whose fault is it, if
not yours?”
A sound escapes her, and I can’t tell if she’s groaning because she has to
answer my question, or because I’ve just dipped my middle finger into her
pussy up to my second knuckle.
“Your fault,” she answers and reaches for my arm, like she’s going to
pull my hand out.
“Keep your hands to your sides, or I’ll bind them behind you and tease
you until you can’t stand it.” I bite down on her earlobe. “And I won’t let
you come.”
To watch her writhe beneath me, knowing I won’t let her finish,
knowing every time she gets just to the precipice of her arousal I’ll stop,
makes my cock ache to be touched.
She moves her hands back to her sides, but I can feel her opening and
closing them. She wants to do something with them. Participate in some
way. This woman has never taken without giving once in her life, I think.
“Put your hands behind your back,” I order and push a second finger up
into her pussy. Her passage tightens around my fingers when I dig the heel
of my hand into her clit.
“I won’t touch you,” she promises.
“Hands behind your back, hold them for me. Be a good girl and let me
give you your reward.” I look down at her face, taking in the indecision.
Has she ever not been in the control seat?
Reluctantly, she moves her hands back and does what she’s told.
Tension eases from her shoulders. Her tongue slips out between her lips and
she wets them. What should she do next? That’s what she’s thinking. I’m
sure of it.
“Just enjoy the feelings.” I wrap my free arm around her waist, pulling
her against me while I thrust harder into her pussy, curling my fingers to
find that sweet button of hers. Her jaw drops and she sucks in air the
moment I find it. And now that I have, she’s in for some real trouble.
I lean down again; this time my aim is her mouth. Harder and harder I
fuck her with my fingers. Her body tenses, she’s so damn close. The heel of
my hand digs into her clit, hitting the spots she needs.
One more thrust and she screams, and before she can try to cover her
own mouth, I crush my lips against hers. Taking her scream, her pleasure,
into my own mouth as I jerk my fingers into her and rub her clit. Her pussy
contracts around my fingers, hard and fast, and I keep moving, keep driving
her through her orgasm until her body finally begins to relax.
I’m kissing her still. Her tongue touches mine and I want more. I want
to taste every inch of this woman. And I’m not sure one month will be
enough time.
I pull away, licking my lips as I look down at her. Wide-eyed and
flushed, she stares up at me, like she’s not sure what to do now.
Slowly, I ease my fingers from her then pull out of her panties. With her
gaze locked in mine, I bring my hand to my mouth and take my time licking
all of her sweet juices from my fingers. Fuck, this woman’s blush will be
my undoing.
I zip her jeans back up and work the button back in place. Her hands are
still behind her, so I gently pull her arms until she releases them. She’s not
looking at me again.
I knuckle her chin until she does.
“I’ll bring the bag down. Let’s go home.”
“But—” She licks her bottom lip then drags her teeth over it. “I mean…
what about you?” She glances down at my crotch. There’s definitely a tent.
“That’s not how things work with me, Charlotte.” I use her full name.
Everyone calls her Charlie. I’m not everyone.
“No?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Wouldn’t be much of a reward if I make you
suck me off after, is it?”
She blinks a few times. I’ve thrown her for a loop. Has she ever been
given something without being asked for more in return? As much as I want
her lips wrapped around my cock, I want her to understand this.
“Your pleasure is my pleasure, Charlotte,” I say when she looks
confused. “Now. Let’s go home.”
Charlie

I’M GETTING out of the shower when my phone dances on the sink.
Wrapping the lush towel around me, I pad over to it and snatch it up right
away.
“Oliver! Where are you?” I press the phone to my ear and creep further
back into the bathroom. Nikolai wasn’t in the bedroom when I came in
here, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t returned. And I’m not sure if it’s okay
for him to know where Oliver is.
“I had to leave town for a few days.” He sounds annoyed.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Why wouldn’t you answer?” I
tuck the towel in further when it starts to slip off my chest. My hair drips
onto my skin.
“I was busy,” he says, completely dismissing me. “I just wanted to be
sure you gave that cash to who it needed to get to.” He’s talking like there’s
someone around him who he doesn’t want to know what’s going on.
“I tried,” I snap. “They wouldn’t take it.”
“Shit. I was worried about that.”
“You knew they wouldn’t?” There’s a small puddle forming at my feet,
so I step back onto the bathmat. “Hold on a second.” I grab the second
towel and quickly wind my hair up in it, so I don’t make a complete mess
out of his bathroom.
“Okay.” I pick up the phone again. “What was your plan then?”
“Well, they left, right? And I haven’t heard from them, so what did they
say?”
 The bathroom door opens, and Nikolai is there, standing in a pair of
loose-fitting jeans and a black button-down. The first two buttons are open,
and a small piece of his chest tattoo peeks out. His hair is combed but has
that run-through look to it and his beard is thicker today. His eyes pierce
me, like he’s caught me being naughty and wants to see how I handle the
situation.
“I took care of it.” I hold the towel around my chest with an iron fist. I
haven’t seen Nikolai since we arrived at his condo last night. He had my
bag brought to the bedroom and told me to unpack, he had a meeting. I
went to bed around midnight, still no sign of him.
“You just said they wouldn’t take the money. What did you do?” he
asks.
Nikolai takes three steps into the bathroom, his eyes still fixated on me.
How can I answer Oliver without letting on who I’m talking with?
“I just took care of it.” I’m too much of a wimp to admit to him what
I’ve traded for his safety. I have more questions, like where did he run off to
and why did he have to go? If I was taking care of his debt with the
Romanovs, what other problems did he have?
“They didn’t mention the deli, did they?”
My ears burn with this question.
“Why?” Instantly my stomach knots up. Nikolai takes another step
toward me; he’s in reaching range now.
“No reason. I just wondered.”
“Why?” He’s avoiding my question, which makes my anxiety ramp up.
Nikolai slowly reaches his hand up and takes the phone from me. I try
to snag it back, but he’s already put it to his ear.
“Oliver. This is Nikolai Romanov.” He pauses a minute. I want to hear
my brother’s reaction, but I can’t. Nikolai has the phone pressed too hard
against him; it’s muffled.
“Where are you hiding?” he asks, his tone deep. There’s a darkness to
the way he asks the question, and I hope Oliver is far away from the city. I
may have made this deal with the devil, but if there are other problems
besides the debt, I’m not going to be able to help.
Nikolai pulls the phone away and hands it back to me. “The coward
hung up.”
I look down at the phone. “Why did you do that? I needed him to
answer me.” I fold my arms over my chest, holding up the towel while
keeping my phone from him.
“Why do you cover for him? He’s your older brother. He’s supposed to
protect you.”
I move my stare away from his face. There’s judgment there I don’t
have the energy to unpack and deal with.
“He’s family. You should know better than anyone you do what you do
to protect family.” He has as much loyalty to his brothers as I do.
“My brothers would never allow me to suffer for their sins. And.” He
takes another step to me, erasing the space between us. “If we had a sister,
we would never allow our enemy to touch her for any reason, not even to
save our own necks.” He looks like he wants to pull the towel off of me, but
he doesn’t, he just keeps staring at me.
“Well, some families are different. He needs my help.” I roll my
shoulders back. “And besides, so far I haven’t suffered all that much.” As
soon as the words fly out, my face heats.
The right side of his mouth kicks up and he chuckles softly. “That
changes tonight.”
“Tonight?” I swallow. There are a million things he can do to me or
make me do. Humiliating, horrific, painful things.
“There’s a party tonight that I have to attend. It will be boring and take
up most of the night. You’ll have to wear a dress.” He adds the last part like
it’s the worst part of the evening. I don’t actually mind dressing up when
there’s a reason for it. Though I doubt I have anything appropriate in my
wardrobe for the sort of night he’s describing.
“You’re not afraid I’ll tell people why I’m with you? That you’ve traded
money for me? You bought me?”
His smile widens. “The sort of people that will be at the party wouldn’t
be fazed by our transaction. They might even try to buy you from me.”
I blink, then stare. I hadn’t really thought about that. If I’m truly his for
the month to do with as he pleases, couldn’t he do just that?
He must understand my silence because he puts his hand on my waist
and squeezes. “You’re mine, Charlotte, and I don’t share.”
Somehow his possessiveness actually gives me comfort. He’s not
exactly a good man, but he’s better than some.
“Get dressed. We need to leave soon if we’re going to make the
appointment.” He lets my waist go.
“Where are we going?” I follow him as he walks from the bathroom.
 “You need clothes. We have an appointment at Krasivvy.”
I stop walking. It’s nearly impossible to get an appointment with a
personal shopper at Krasivvy. It caters to the elite of the elite. It’s not a
boutique someone like me even considers shopping at.
“How did you manage that?” More to the point, how can I get out of
this because there is in no way I can afford anything there.
“I called in a favor.” He lifts a shoulder. “Now get dressed. I’ll have
your breakfast warmed up for you.”
“Wait.” I hurry after him. He stops at the door. I push the towel back on
my head when it starts to topple over. “I appreciate you doing that, really, I
do, but I’d rather just go to a regular department store. I’m sure I can find
something.” A black dress. Every girl should have one, and I regret I don’t.
Obviously, he took note of my lack of wardrobe last night.
“Why?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Because.” He knows damn well why, but I won’t give him the
satisfaction of answering the question with humiliation. He just wants to
embarrass me.
“Because why?” he pushes.
I drag in a long breath. “You know why.” I keep my chin high. I’m not
going to let him embarrass me. I work hard for the money I have; there is
nothing for me to be ashamed of. “I can’t afford anything there.”
He lifts his shoulder again. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m not letting you pay for anything, Nikolai. I won’t have the debt go
higher.”
He squares up with me, like I’ve just insulted him.
“You’ll do what I tell you to do, Charlotte. That was the deal. There’s no
running tally here. So, get dressed, come eat your breakfast, so we can get
to the boutique on time. I don’t like being late.”
Before I can argue, he’s outside the room and pulls the door shut.
A personal shopping experience at Krasivvy. Yeah, he’s really making
his enemy suffer.
Nikolai

IT’S a thirty-minute drive from my Upper West Side condo to Krasivvy on

Second Avenue in midtown east. Charlotte has kept her eyes on her phone
the entire drive. She’s not scrolling social media, not text messaging
anyone, just cradling it in her hands and glancing at the screen every few
minutes.
Maybe she’s waiting to hear back from the chicken shit of a brother of
hers. When I took the phone from her this morning, I’m pretty sure I heard
him choke on his own breath before he hung up on me. I’m a powerful man,
but even I can’t murder someone through a cell phone connection.
Viktor pulls up in front of Krasivvy and gets out to open her door first. I
get out on my side and walk around the car, brushing him away and giving
her my hand. She looks up at me and then to my outreached hand with
confusion.
“I’m okay,” she says, then scoots to the edge of the seat and hops down
to the sidewalk. I raise my eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t even notice.
After closing the door, I put my hand on her back and walk her to the
boutique.
Alina Ivanoff waits for us at the door. She has her blonde hair loose
around her shoulders in large, thick curls, and her perfume nearly suffocates
me as I step into the cloud of it.
“Nikolai.” She smiles brightly, her white teeth a direct contrast to her
dark red lips. I think she’s had one of those injections since the last time I
saw her; her lips are twice the size I remember. She grabs hold of my
shoulders and leans in to kiss each of my cheeks.
“Alina.” I give a curt nod when she pulls back, still smiling up at me. I
slide my arm around Charlotte’s waist and pull her closer to me. “This is
Charlotte. The appointment is for her.”
Alina’s gaze slithers over Charlotte. Her jeans and t-shirt aren’t doing
anything to impress Alina, but it doesn’t change the fact Charlotte is here
with me. While she keeps her smile intact, Alina’s eyes narrow just enough
that it gives away the fact she sees Charlotte as a threat.
“Hi,” Charlotte says and sticks out her hand. Alina takes it softly and
gives a short shake before dropping it. She wipes her hand on her hip.
Charlotte tenses.
“We should get started,” I say.
Charlotte’s shoulders drop a fraction, but she nods.
“Right this way.” Alina turns on her heel and saunters across the
boutique, putting an extra sway to her hips.
“I think she likes you,” Charlotte whispers to me as we follow across
the open space. Another woman sits with one of the designers at a desk on
the other side of the shop. Other than them, it’s empty.
“She always walks like that,” I mutter.
“I’m not talking about her walk. I’m talking about the way her eyes
tried to eat you up when we walked in, and how much she hates seeing me
with you,” she says, keeping her voice down. “Maybe we should tell her
that I’m just the flavor of the month. Give the girl some hope.”
I look down at her. I don’t like the way she’s talking, like she doesn’t
matter in the least.
“Nikolai sent over your size last night, and I had some things pulled for
you. But I didn’t realize your hair coloring was so… soft. Maybe something
a little more subdued.” She’s holding a black dress with a deep v cut in the
front and the back. How can a black dress not go well with chestnut-colored
hair?
Charlotte touches the end of her hair. Her cheeks redden but only a
moment before she shoves her hair over her shoulder and puts her full focus
on the dress.
“I think this one is good. And I love the blue one here.” She steps away
from me to flip through the dresses hanging on the rack in front of us. All of
these dresses look like they belong on a runway model.
 “Well, then I guess we should get started.” Alina rolls the rack toward a
dressing room for Charlotte to utilize. I take a seat in the armchair that’s
been brought out for me. Two glasses of champagne sit on the small table
beside the chair along with a large bowl of fresh strawberries. Alina is
slipping. A bottle of vodka would be more suitable.
Charlotte disappears behind the ivory curtain and from the open space
below I watch sandals kicked off and bare feet step this way and that until
she emerges wearing the black dress Alina had held up.
I swallow hard. Fuck, she makes that dress look it was made just for her.
She has gentle curves that her jeans hide, but in this dress…
“Yes,” I nod. “Next.” I gesture for her to go back and try another one.
“Don’t I get a say?” She puts her fists on her hips and raises her
eyebrows. It’s a small act of defiance; maybe she’s trying to give Alina
hope.
“Not today. Try the next one.”
She narrows her eyes but whips around and goes back behind the
curtain. The next one has a wide neckline that gives a sampling of her
cleavage. The hem is also too high; if she were to bend even a little the
entire room would see her pussy.
I shake my head.
“Why not?” she asks, though there’s a playfulness to her tone.
“I don’t like it.” I don’t like that the other men in the room will see her
in it. I don’t like the thoughts they will entertain when they do.
“And it’s all about what you like? Maybe I like it.” She saunters up to
me, putting more sway to her hips, like Alina had earlier. She gives me a
sultry look, one I’m sure she’s perfected in the mirror while growing up.
“Are you trying to tease me?” I ask, only half amused by it.
“I’m just saying. In this dress, maybe I could work off the debt even
faster.” Her smile falls from her mouth as soon as the words do. A blush
blossoms on her cheeks. “I was just… it was a bad joke.” She cuts the air
with her hand and rushes back to the dressing room.
She doesn’t say anything else as she tries on the dresses. Each time she
comes out though, she does a little twirl, throws a smile at me, then waits
for me to nod or shake my head. All in all, I buy her seven new dresses and
shoes to match. Alina brings out a tray of handbags and Charlotte shakes
her head.
 “I don’t need new purses. What I have is fine,” she insists, even after
Alina looks down at the simple black bag hanging from Charlotte’s
shoulder and makes a face. “It will do.”
“Get at least one for the party tonight,” I tell her as I get up from my
chair.
She sighs. Spending my money is hard for her. This is a first for me.
“Fine. This silver one. It should go with pretty much everything you just
bought.” She picks up the clutch and hands it over to Alina’s assistant
who’s been helping keep track of the order.
“Good.” I dig out my wallet and hand over my credit card to Alina.
“Have it all delivered this afternoon.”
She nods. “Of course, Nikolai.” She hurries off to do some damage to
my credit.
“It really is too much. I don’t need so many. I can re-wear a few if you
really need me to get dolled up.” She pulls her phone from her purse again
and checks it.
“Who are you waiting for?” I ask, giving a pointed look at the phone
cradled in her hands.
She blushes then shoves it back in her purse. “No one. It’s just usually
I’m at the store on Saturdays. I just want to be sure everything going all
right.”
“It’s sandwiches, Charlotte. I think your staff can handle it,” I say, but it
comes out condescending, with an asshole twist. Anger flashes in her eyes,
but she masks it just as quickly.
“Here you go.” Alina is back with my card and a receipt dangling from
her fingers. “I added a gratuity for you.” How nice of her to give herself a
tip.
“Of course.” I put the plastic away.
“Will I see you tonight then?” Alina asks, stepping closer to me.
“Yes, we’ll be there.” I reach my hand out and Charlotte slips her
slender fingers through mine.
“Oh, good.” Alina has to step to the side so Charlotte doesn’t bump into
her. “Then I’ll see you tonight.” She wiggles her fingers at us. “I’ll be sure
everything arrives in time.”
I stop halfway through the store, catching the little tilt to her tone when
she says it.
 “I’m sure you will.” I give her a glare that should convey how upset I
will be if she fucks around with this order.
She blanches slightly, before pushing on another bright smile.
I tighten my grip around Charlotte’s hand and pull her from the store.
“Are you hungry?” I ask when we step outside. The sun is bright, so I
slip on my sunglasses. She digs through her purse and grabs a pair for
herself as well.
“I guess I could eat. I think I saw a karaoke bar around the corner when
we pulled up.” She smiles at me. She’s teasing me again. It’s a good look on
her, this smile. For a moment, there’s a lightness to her. But it passes
quickly, and she looks away, her smile fading as Viktor pulls the SUV up to
the curb in front of us.
“Not much of a karaoke guy,” I say as I pull open the back door. “Tell
Viktor what you’d like for lunch, and he’ll get it for you on the way home.”
She climbs in and looks back at me. “You’re not coming with?”
I shake my head. “I have a meeting.”
“Then I’ll just go help at the deli for the afternoon,” she says, pulling
her phone from her purse.
“No, you won’t.” I don’t take her phone away, but I want to. What I
really want is to break the fucking thing into a million pieces and have her
tied to the bed so she can get some decent rest. Until I get home, then she
won’t rest at all.
She sighs. “You’re not even around. There’s no reason I can’t.”
That’s it.
I reach over and pluck her phone from her hand, handing it to Viktor. In
Russian I tell him to keep it until they get home, then she can have it back.
“You can’t just take my things.”
I lean into the car, capture her chin in my hand, and force her to look at
me. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Charlotte. That’s how this works.
That’s the rule.”
She stares at me, the softness of a few minutes ago now hard ice.
“When the dresses arrive, put them away in the closet. The black dress,
the first one you tried on is for tonight.” I let her chin go. “And leave your
hair down.”
Silently, she turns to look out the front window. Without even looking,
she pulls the seatbelt across her body and snaps it into place.
 “Get her whatever she wants for lunch, then home,” I say to Viktor, in
English this time so she can understand the directions.
She turns her head to look out the other window, her best attempt to
shun me, I suppose.
“I’ll see you tonight, Charlotte.” I close the door, confident she’s more
likely to flip me off than send me off with smile.
I wait until Viktor turns the corner before heading back into the
boutique.
Charlie

IT TAKES over forty minutes to make our way across the city to where the
party is being held, a townhouse in Gramercy Park. Traffic in the city is
something to be feared, I’ve decided. Cars weave in and out as though they
have some sort of bubble around them that will allow them to bounce off
objects unharmed.
Viktor slams on the brakes yelling out his window in Russian. I don’t
understand any of it, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t giving well wishes to the
driver that just cut us off.
“Are you all right?” he asks me, looking at me through the rearview.
Nikolai isn’t with us. He’s meeting me at this party—where I don’t know
anyone.
“Yes. Thanks.” I blow out a long breath. “Are we almost there?” I ask.
He nods. “Two more blocks.”
I lean over to get a better look at the navigation screen. 18th Street and
Park Avenue. This part of town is foreign to me. The shops, the restaurants,
these townhomes, all too much for me. The extravagances that I would
never bother to dream about. And here I am rolling up to a party being
given in one of them.
Finally, Viktor pulls up in front of the house, behind other cars also
dropping off guests. I spot Nikolai standing on the steps. He’s wearing a
dark suit. Does he have a closet of clothes at his office? Does he have an
office?
 Nikolai steps down and makes his way to the car just as Viktor rolls
forward. I have my hand on the handle when Nikolai pulls the door open,
and I nearly spill out onto the concrete. I recover my balance quickly and
manage to slide out of the SUV without embarrassing myself.
His eyes darken when he looks me over. I smile at the way his jaw
tenses and run my hand over the skirt of the blue dress I chose for the
evening. It’s a petty rebellion, ignoring his instruction on which dress to
wear this evening, but a satisfying one. The silver heels give me some
height, so I won’t have to tilt my head back far when I’m glaring up at him.
“Thank you,” I say then step around him to move further onto the
sidewalk. He has a quick conversation with Viktor, in Russian of course so I
can’t understand them, then shuts the door and turns back to me.
“Have a good day, dear?” I ask, putting my hand on my hip and
smoothing out a flyaway hair from the updo I spent an hour putting
together. Thank God for internet tutorials.
His eyes narrow on me, and he runs his tongue along his teeth. I’m not
sure if he’s going to yell at me or grab me by my hair and kiss me. A small
part of me wants the kiss. No, I’m lying. A big part of me wants it.
The summer air is warm tonight; even with the sun nearly asleep I can
feel heat on my cheeks.
A woman passes us, giving Nikolai a long stare as she does. He doesn’t
seem to notice her. He doesn’t seem to notice anything right now except
me. The longer he stares quietly at me, the faster my bravado slips away.
Finally, he steps to me, slipping his arm around my waist. “You’re a
naughty girl, Charlotte,” he whispers into my ear then presses a kiss to my
temple.
The way he says it, in that sultry, deep voice, makes my spine tingle.
Hell, it makes all of me tingle.
He leads me up the steps and into the townhouse. The place is full of
people already. Soft music is playing from the living room when we pass it,
but he doesn’t take me in there. He keeps us moving toward another room.
Here he finds a waiter and plucks a glass of wine off his tray and hands it to
me.
I thank him and take a sip, painfully aware I am completely outside my
element. The rug alone in this room would make my credit line laugh.
“What is the party for?” I ask, taking a larger sip.
“My father’s celebrating his sixty-fifth birthday.”
 I choke on the wine.
“You brought me to your father’s birthday party?” My eyes have to be
bugging out of my head; at least it feels that way. His whole family will be
here. This isn’t a casual party of business associates or whatever I thought
this was going to be. His actual family. And their associates.
My skin heats up.
He cracks a smile, obviously happy with my reaction to his news.
“I did.” He takes the now empty glass from my hand and places it on a
buffet table behind me against the wall.
“Nikolai.” A man as tall as Nikolai walks up to us, and he’s the spitting
image of him too. Except there’s a scar over his left eyebrow.
“Arman.” Nikolai inclines his head in greeting but doesn’t offer a hand.
Arman takes a step toward him then turns his attention to me. “And who
have you brought with you tonight?” he asks with a wry smile.
“This is Charlotte. Charlotte, my brother Arman.” He slips his arm
around my waist and pulls me to his side, as though laying claim on me.
“Charlotte.” Arman says my name as though he’s testing it out. “That’s
a sweet name.”
“No one really calls me Charlotte. My family calls me Charlie,” I say,
feeling the heat of Nikolai’s hand through the elegant fabric of the dress.
“Charlie?” Arman’s eyebrows lift. “Doesn’t fit you as well.” His eyes
roam over the entire length of my body.
“I looked into that warehouse you mentioned yesterday,” Nikolai
interjects. “I’m not sure it’s a good buy for us. I’m not sure that part of town
is safe.”
Arman swings his attention back to his brother. “We might be able to
swing something. Maybe we should bring it up to the old man.”
“I will, but I wanted to let you know I’d looked into it.”
Arman nods. “So, where did you two meet?” he asks, bringing his gaze
back to me.
“He stopped into my deli.” I try to stand straighter and keep up with the
conversation. It’s bad enough he’s dragged me here, but I won’t be looked
at as though some sort of ornament for his arm. Even if that’s technically
what I’m supposed to be.
“What deli?” he questions. He’s not really interested; he’s fishing for
information.
 Nikolai has a bland expression on his face, like he’s bored with the
conversation.
“Harrison’s Heroes. It’s north in Morris Heights.” There’s no reason he
would know where it is. Men like him probably don’t drive up to the burbs
for a submarine sandwich.
“Harrison.” His eyes move up to meet with Nikolai’s. “Family name?”
I nod. “My last name, yeah.”
“Charlotte Harrison.” A smirk plays on his lips. “You do get to have
some fun, little brother.” Arman slaps Nikolai’s shoulder. “It was nice
meeting you, Charlotte.” He winks then walks off into the crowd of people.
“He knows.” My shoulders slump.
“What?” Nikolai asks.
“He knows how we met, why I’m here. He knows. I can tell.” I
maneuver away from his grip.
“Charlotte, it doesn’t matter what he knows or what he thinks he knows.
What happens between us is none of his fucking business.” He walks
behind me as I wiggle through the crowd. I have no idea where I’m going.
Was the entrance to the left or right of this room?
“Charlotte, stop,” he orders, but I’m not in the mood for listening. I just
need to keep moving until I find the front door. Or the back, whichever will
get me outside away from all these people.
“Charlotte! Oh, you look beautiful in that dress.” Alina from the
boutique steps away from a small group of people with a bright smile on
her fuchsia-painted lips. She’s fabulously dressed in a cream off the
shoulder dress that accentuates her hips and full breasts. Her hair is curled
perfectly around her shoulders.
“Alina. Hi.” I come up short when she makes her way to me. Nikolai
isn’t far behind me, a step or two. I can feel him; I don’t need to look.
“I knew that dress was perfect for you.” She grabs my shoulders and
kisses both of my cheeks. During our time together this morning she was
civil, but she wasn’t this polite. “Oh, Nikolai. Hi.” She sweeps her hair from
her face and smiles brilliantly at him.
His hands land on my shoulders and he squeezes—a warning not to take
off again, I’m sure.
“Alina. Good to see you again.” He slides his hands down both of my
arms and takes my left hand in his right hand, moving me to his side. “If
you’ll excuse us, I want to give Charlotte a tour.”
 Alina’s shoulders drop a fraction and there’s less shimmer to her smile,
but she merely nods. “I’ll see you later then.”
He grabs hold of my elbow and moves me forward, toward a set of
stairs.
“Nikolai.” An older man appears as though he was waiting in the
shadows for Nikolai to get near enough to him.
Nikolai grumbles something under his breath but I don’t understand
what he says. The older man doesn’t seem to have heard him either.
“Dad.” Nikolai pulls me closer to him, as though he’s protecting me
from being swept away with the current of people moving about the
hallway.
“I didn’t know you had arrived.” He smiles down at me. “Or that you
were bringing a guest.”
“A last-minute decision,” Nikolai answers. “Dad, this is Charlotte
Harrison; Charlotte, my father, Igor Romanov.”
My throat clenches, but I manage to put my hand out to him.
“Happy birthday, sir.”
Igor takes my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to the
back of my hand before letting go. I’d always pictured the Russian mob to
be less formal, more brawn and fewer manners. The Romanovs are proving
me wrong.
“Thank you, Charlotte. It’s nice to meet you.” He glances at Nikolai. “I
need a few minutes with you tonight.”
“Of course.” Nikolai’s hand tightens on my hip. “I was just going to
give Charlotte a tour of the house.”
Igor’s lips twitch. “Dinner is going to be served soon.”
“Actually, I’d like to step outside for a moment.” I take a small step
toward Igor, sensing he can help me get some space from Nikolai.
“Of course. If you keep going down this hallway you’ll walk straight
through the kitchen, there’s a patio just outside the door there. Or you can
go through the library to the gardens.” He points a finger toward another
room off to the left.
“Oh, the gardens sound nice. I’ll do that. Thank you,” I say to him with
a small nod then maneuver my way around Nikolai.
“Charlotte, wait for me,” Nikolai says, but I keep pushing forward. His
father, having taken my side of things, says something to Nikolai, giving
me just enough time to maneuver through the crowd and into the library.
 This room is less filled with people and the air is thinner. I find the
French doors leading to the gardens and push them open, taking in the light
breeze as it passes over my face. Despite the summer heat, the fresh air
cools me. The frazzled sensation ebbs with every step I take.
I’m barely to the first rosebush before a heavy hand wraps around my
wrist.
“You really are being a naughty girl today, aren’t you?” Nikolai’s voice
sends a tremor of warning down my spine. He has me pulled my back
against his chest, one arm is draped around my waist anchoring me to him,
while the other has snaked around and captured my face.
“Nikolai.” I wrangle with him, but he’s stronger.
“Let’s have a tour of the gardens, since that’s what you wanted,” he says
against my ear. There’s a hint of a cigarette on his breath.
He releases me but snatches up my hand in his. Aside from the
rosebushes and other flowers I couldn’t name if he put a gun to my head,
there is a rotunda in the center with tall bushes acting as a shield against the
rest of the party. My heels click against the stone pathway as he pulls me
behind the greenery. There is a set of benches and a fountain in the middle.
A secluded area that would be a perfect place to hide away from the city—
if you can ignore the car horns every few minutes.
“You’re mad because I didn’t wear the black dress.” I yank my hand
from his and sit on one of the benches. It was a petty move, defiantly
wearing the blue dress just to piss him off.
“I’m disappointed you didn’t wear the dress. I was more disappointed
when you went to the deli after I told you not to. It displeased me when you
walked away from me the first time inside, and then even more when you
did it the second time.” He folds his arms over his chest, looking down at
me like he’s trying to lecture a petulant child.
“I didn’t work. You said I couldn’t work, and I didn’t.” I cross my legs
at the knee and fold my arms over my stomach.
He runs his thumb over his chin but says nothing.
“You said I could have lunch from wherever I wanted, and I wanted a
sandwich.” I shrug as he continues to glare down at me.
“From your own shop.”
“I like the ham we use.” I shrug again. I’m sure Viktor told on me. “I
didn’t work. I just wanted to check in.”
 “Because you don’t think they can handle the shop without you? Do you
always hire incompetent staff?” His question strikes a nerve.
“They aren’t incompetent,” I defend.
“Then you’re a micromanager who has no confidence in your own
staff.”
I clench my jaw. “You’re just pissed because I didn’t do exactly as you
said.” I look away from him.
“You didn’t. That’s right. You wanted to push me, so you deliberately
split hairs about the deli, then you defy me with your dress.” He hooks his
hands on his hips. The golden lights strung around the garden casts enough
of a shadow over his face that his features are hidden. “Stand up and bend
over the bench. Put your hands flat on the seat and stick your ass out high
for me.” He reaches for his belt buckle and my stomach does a somersault.
“What?” I blink, then look around. He’s back to being insane. “We’re
outside, Nikolai,” I protest.
He locks eyes with me as he wraps his hand around the metal buckle
and pulls the leather strap from his pants in one fluid tug.
“That was your choice. I wanted to take you upstairs to one of the
bedrooms. But you had to do this your way.” He folds the leather strap in
half and tucks the buckle into his palm. “I’d start moving soon or it’s going
to be worse.”
“You’re going to spank me because I didn’t wear the black dress and I
had a sandwich at my own restaurant?” He couldn’t be any less reasonable.
“No. I’m going to punish you because you insist on defying me. Which
means you haven’t learned yet which one of us gives the orders and which
one of us obeys them.”
I swallow back my rebuttal. The longer we’re out here, the more chance
that someone happens upon us.
“It was a childish way to behave, purposely wearing a different dress
and putting my hair up.” I’ll give him that much, it’s the truth. “But you’re
overreacting and we’re outside. Someone might see us or hear us.”
“Then I suggest you hurry up. When dinner’s being served, most
certainly someone will be sent out here to look for us.” He swings the belt
against his leg quietly, rhythmically.
“Don’t do this, Nikolai. Not here.” I move to my feet, even while I’m
pleading for him to change his mind. I guess I could try running through the
house to go out the front door, but I doubt I’d make it. And he’d just have
more naughty things to add to my list.
“You chose the place, Charlotte. Not me.” He nods toward the bench.
It’s a good thing we haven’t eaten yet. My stomach is ready to revolt
thanks to the nervousness and awkwardness of the entire situation.
The wood of the bench is cool beneath my palms as I press into the seat.
I close my eyes; I don’t want to see his shadow, or feel his presence. Maybe
if I can let my mind wander far enough away, I won’t feel the belt.
He steps beside me and with a quick flick of his wrist he tosses the skirt
of the dress up over my back. If the ground could just swallow me up and
spit me out somewhere else in the universe, I’d be eternally grateful. I’m
wearing a pair of black, cotton brief panties. I could not be less attractive at
this moment.
Without a word, he fists the elastic of my panties and drags them down
over my ass until they fall down to my ankles. I step out of them when he
tugs, and he pockets them. Tears already burn my eyes. If someone sees me
like this, hears me when that belt strikes… mortification can kill, right?
The first lash of the belt is harsh; it cuts across my ass with a white-hot
heat. Nikolai steps further to the side and brings his arm back again. I tense,
but it doesn’t matter. The belt lashes right through my attempt to ignore it.
He brings it down again and again and again, without giving me a
second to process or breathe. It’s just pain. Overwhelming, suffocating pain
and all I can do is clench my lips together to keep from screaming.
Tears roll down my cheeks and I want to run away. There’s no escape
here though.
His hand roams over my ass and it takes me a moment to register that
the belt is coiled up on the bench beside my left hand.
“I don’t like this, punishing you when you look so pretty tonight. I don’t
like making you cry, not like this,” he says softly while running his
fingertips across the stripes his belt has made. His hand moves lower,
between my thighs until he finds my pussy.
With just a feathery touch, my body opens for him.
“Tell me you’re sorry, Charlotte. Tell me you’ll be a good girl for the
rest of the night.” He strokes my clit. I tighten my hands into fists. “Tell me
you’ll be my good girl.”
I look over my shoulder, catching his gaze with mine. I’m expecting
anger, or the stare of a crazy person. But all I see is dark desire in his eyes.
And it matches my own.
“I will, Nikolai. I’ll be your good girl tonight.” If he will keep touching
me like this, I’ll be so damn good.
He smiles; it’s a small lift of the corner of his lips, but it’s genuine.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Charlotte.” He pulls my panties from his
pocket. “You’ll need to keep quiet this time, but only this time.” He presses
the cotton against my lips until I open my mouth. He shoves them inside.
“These will work; I left my gag at home.”
The silent plea in my eyes only makes him grin.
I watch from over my shoulder as he stands behind me, unbuttoning his
pants. I’m listening so intently, I can hear the zipper pass through the teeth.
I hear something else, and I notice he’s tearing a condom wrapper open. He
rolls it onto his cock and while the wrapper still hangs from his teeth, he
grabs my hips and thrusts into me.
I groan, bucking upward at the intensity and fullness of his cock.
“Good girl,” he says, and the wrapper falls onto my ass. Using my hips,
he pulls me toward him as he thrusts forward.
Already, I can feel my arousal peak.
“Play with your clit, Charlotte. Rub yourself,” he orders and for a
second, I think of defying him again. Only a second, because every time he
plows forward, his hips hit my sore ass. A reminder of what happens when I
defy Nikolai.
I haven’t had a boyfriend in two years. Bringing myself to orgasm is an
act I excel at, but it’s different this time. I’m not controlling this, even
though it’s my fingers, I’m not in control. Nikolai is.
“Good girl,” he says when my fingers are between my legs, rubbing my
clit in the exact circular pattern I need, with precisely the right pressure.
“Oh,” I moan through my own underwear. His fingernails dig into my
skin, and it sends me to another level of arousal. I like it.
No. Fuck that. I love it. The tiny bite of pain mingled with all the
pleasure he’s giving me. It’s not fair to have so much enjoyment while I
have to keep silent. Maybe that’s another form of punishment he’s using. If
I’d listened to him and let him take me on a tour of the house, we could be
upstairs in a bedroom. No one could hear me. But we’re outside now. In the
gardens where anyone can walk by and hear us.
“Do you want to come for me?” he asks, his voice raw and tense.
I nod. What else can I do?
 “Then come, Charlotte. Show me you can behave. Show me you can be
a good obedient girl for me.”
And it’s that word—obedient—that normally would send me into a rage
that heightens my need to explode. It’s wrong, feeling this way, right? But it
doesn’t matter. I’ll analyze it later. Right now, I just need to keep rubbing,
and feeling his cock fill me with each stroke.
“Obedient girl,” he says, as though he knows exactly what words to
stay.
And he’s right.
My body pulls tight like a violin string, then lets loose, rocketing me
into a swirling storm of pleasure. I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to
keep myself from screaming. It barely works.
“Fuck,” he groans from behind me and thrusts even harder into me as
the waves begin to soften within me. “Fuck! Fuck!” His voice gets louder
as he pounds into me. Another thrust, then another before he stills inside
me.
Several moments pass and then I gently pull my panties from my
mouth. They’re soaked and crumpled, and my tongue is dry.
Nikolai pulls free of my body and walks away to the garden wall to take
care of the condom. I stand up on shaky legs and smooth out the skirt of my
dress.
I see him tuck a handkerchief into his pocket, then he works his zipper
closed as he walks back to me. Picking up his belt, he eyes the panties in
my hand.
“Put them on.”
“They’re all wet,” I say, somewhat embarrassed.
“I didn’t ask if they were wet, I said put them on.” He works his belt
back through the loops.
I glance up at his face to check if he’s serious.
He is.
I guess I’m still learning lessons.
I step into them and pull them up in place. It’s uncomfortable and my
cheeks are hot from having to do it, but I think that was his point.
“There.” He smiles at me and runs the back of his hand across my
cheek, brushing away a loose curl.
“Do you want me to take my hair down?” I ask; some of it has probably
fallen loose of the pins anyway now.
 “Are you trying to have the freshly fucked look for when we go back
inside?” he asks with a tilt of his head.
“No.”
“Then you can leave it up.” He cups my cheek, running his thumb over
my bottom lip. “We should get inside before they call us for dinner.” He
leans down, brushing his lips across mine. It’s gentle. Featherlike.
I hate it.
I want more.
And the way he looks at me tells me he knows it.
He slides his hand down my arm and laces his fingers between mine.
“Let’s go.” He tugs my hand and like the obedient girl he wants me to
be, I follow him through the gardens and back into the house.
Nikolai

MY FATHER LIKES HER. I could tell because when we filed in for

dinner, he purposely left the seat to his left open for her. Not me or one of
my brothers, but her. He’d looked like a child having his favorite toy torn
away when I announced our departure.
As I stare down at her now while she’s asleep in my bed, naked and
vulnerable, the sunlight peeking through the windows and spreading across
her back—I like her too.
I sigh. I don’t have time to like her. I have work to do, and an empire to
help build. My father wants all of his sons to be married. He’s pressuring
Roman first, he’s the oldest and him having a wife and sons as soon as
possible will set my father’s mind at ease.
The line of succession for us doesn’t have to be from father to son.
Anyone in our family can step up to challenge Roman. But if he’s strong
enough, no one will.
Being the third son, I don’t have to worry about such things. I can focus
on the empire. I can focus on the business.
And to do all of that, I can’t be bothered with a pretty girl with chestnut
hair who looks as sexy making a submarine sandwich as she does with her
ass bouncing beneath my belt.
Fucking her in my father’s gardens hadn’t been on the list of things I
wanted to do yesterday. I wanted to get through the party without having to
battle off anyone my father wanted to try to set me up with, while enjoying
his birthday party. Charlotte had been my shield.
 Annoyance at how much time I’ve spent thinking about this woman has
me on edge. I run my fingers through my hair and toss the covers back from
the bed. When I look back at her sleeping form, a red welt on her bare ass
peeks out at me from where the blanket has moved. I wasn’t lying when I
told her I didn’t like punishing her like that. I’d much rather have her tears
be earned through pleasure, and now seeing that welt… I want it more than
ever.
I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and head down to the fitness
room in the building. If I had a townhouse like my father, I’d have the space
for a full fitness room, but I like living in the penthouse. It’s just me, I don’t
need a home like he has. Like I grew up in.
That’s for later. When I have a wife and kids. Immediately, an image of
Charlotte pops into my head, her belly swollen with my baby inside and a
wiggling toddler on her hip.
“Hey, Nikolai.” Viktor’s already in the fitness room. His face drips with
sweat.
“You’re up early,” I say, heading to the treadmill. A five-mile run
should get my head on straight about what Charlotte is. She’s a temporary
bit of fun, that’s all.
That you’re letting a quarter million dollars slip through your fingers
for.
“Sun’s up, so am I,” Viktor nods.
I laugh. “It’s Sunday. Try sleeping in now and then.”
“When’s the last time you slept in?” he asks, taking the treadmill beside
me.
I stand on the belt and think. “It’s been a while.”
He punches in the program he’s going to use while I do the same.
“Is the girl sleeping?” he asks as his belt begins to move and he steps on
it.
My speed kicks up and I start off on a light jog.
“She is.”
“She’s stubborn, that one,” he says, starting to jog beside me.
“She is,” I agree.
“She’s a hard worker, too.”
I eye him from the side.
“Yeah. I guess she is.” I wonder if she understands she doesn’t have to
be such a work horse. She can relax and let someone else take control for a
bit. Last night, when she finally realized she wasn’t controlling the evening,
that I was the one holding the reins, she relaxed easily into me. The entire
evening, she remained soft and sweet, but never during the night did I think
for one second she would allow me or anyone else to run her over. She
would bend beneath me, but this woman, she would never break.
“Too hard,” Viktor says.
“What are you saying?”
He shrugs. “She takes responsibilities that aren’t her burdens to
shoulder.”
He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.
“She could use a vacation. Do something fun.”
I pick up the pace on my run. “Are you trying to tell me to take her out
today?”
He shrugs. “I wouldn’t tell you what to do, Nikolai. It’s not my place.”
He looks over at me with a smug grin. “But I don’t think it’s a bad idea you
have there.”
I shake my head.
“Concentrate on your run.” I reach over and hit the speed up button a
few times for him.
And then I start thinking about where I’m going to take my good girl
out today so she can have some fun and not worry so damn much about
everything.

CHARLOTTE IS SITTING crisscross on the bed leaning over a laptop

when I search her out. The leather-bound notebook she brought with her is
open beside her. She’s been awake for a few hours, but I’ve been holed up
in my office. It’s past noon already when I find her sitting in my bedroom
tapping away on a computer.
“Where’d you get that?” I gesture toward the computer, shutting the
bedroom door behind me.
She looks up from the screen. “It’s mine. When I stopped home
yesterday, I grabbed it.” Her hair is bound up in a high ponytail; all traces of
the makeup she’d worn last night are gone. She doesn’t need it anyway.
“What are you doing with it?” I already know the answer.
 “I’m doing research on marketing.” She goes back to the computer,
clicking and scrolling, picking up the pen and jotting notes down in her
notebook.
“For the deli?” I lean over her to see her scribbles. Business ideas. She
has notes written in every direction on the pages before her.
“No. For a fish store,” she deadpans as she looks back up at me. “Yes,
for the shop. The chains are starting to push us out. We’ve been in the
neighborhood for longer, but the young people moving in don’t care about
that. They trust the chains; it’s getting harder to get new customers in.”
“Have you thought about buying into one of them?” Franchising isn’t as
horrible as she probably thinks it is.
“I asked my father about it once.” She smiles. “It wasn’t a positive
experience. He definitely did not want to do that.”
I nod. “He built the deli. I can understand that.”
“He and my mom, yeah.”
“But it’s your shop now, right?”
“Mine and Oliver’s.” She pauses. “I mean, sort of. He sold me most of
his half when he needed cash about a year ago.”
“You had the cash to do that?” The more I think I have her figured out,
the more she surprises me.
“It wasn’t long after our father died, so there was money left from the
estate. I just used that.” She frowns. Her parents were important to her, I
can sense it in the way her tone drops when she mentions them.
“Do you enjoy working at the deli? Or do you keep it open because it
belonged to your parents? ” My future has always been laid out for me;
choices weren’t really something I contemplated. But she has a choice here,
even if she doesn’t realize it.
“Of course I enjoy it.” There’s force in her tone, but it doesn’t reach her
eyes. In her eyes is conflict. She looks away, shakes her head, then goes
back to the computer. “I have to find a way to get more people in the door.”
I walk over to the bed and gently push the computer closed. “You don’t
have to do that right now.”
She looks around the room. “I have nothing else to do. You have people
to do everything for you here, so I can’t clean, or cook or do laundry or
anything. I can either do this or…” Her cheeks heat.
As much as her blush heats my blood, that’s not what I came in here for.
 “Or you can change into one of those outfits Alina delivered last night,
and we can get out of here for a little while.”
Her brow wrinkles. “What outfits?”
I open the closet door, exposing the row of shirts and pants hanging on
the right side of my closet. The dresses she’d put away yesterday are in the
back.
She climbs off the bed to come inspect. “When did these come?”
“While we were at my father’s party. You need more than just dresses.
There are jeans, some shorts, and t-shirts, too.” She’s more comfortable in
her jeans, I think. And hell knows I fucking love the way she fills them out.
“Nikolai. This is too much.” She drags her gaze up to mine. “I don’t
need these. I have clothes. I mean they aren’t fancy like your friend wears,
and I do appreciate the dresses, especially if we’re going to be at more
dinners and parties this month, but this stuff… I don’t need them.”
I walk into the closet and pick out a pair of black capri pants and a light
blue sleeveless blouse. I have no eye for women’s fashion, other than I
know quality. I hand the two hangers to her.
“There’s also a couple pairs of sandals you can choose from.”
“You’re not listening to me.” She turns on me as I walk past her,
frustrated no doubt that I’m not giving her words the weight she wants me
to.
“I hear you, Charlotte. Those clothes are yours. When you leave here,
they are still yours.”
“Why?” she questions. “Are my clothes so low brow for you?”
My jaw clenches. “No. I wanted you to have them. That’s all.”
Her cell phone rings from the nightstand.
She sighs. “It’s Joey.” She gestures to the phone.
I pick it up since I’m closer and bring it to her.
“Go on.” I hand it to her. I may not want her working herself to the
bone, but I don’t want her business to go under either.
She shifts the hangers to her left hand then uses her right to answer.
“Hey, Joey.” She pushes a sunny tone into her voice, though her eyes
are still trying to shoot me down about the clothes. I’ll win. I always win.
“Really? Shit… yeah, go ahead and call… thanks. I can stop by… it’s
just… fine, Joey. Thanks. Let me know what he says.” She listens a bit
more then ends the call.
“Something wrong?” It’s written all over her face, worry.
 “The air conditioner isn’t working. It’s been on the fritz for a while. I’ll
probably have to replace it.” She sighs. “Joey’s going to call the repair guy;
hopefully he can get it going again.”
“Sounds like it’s handled then.” I take the phone from her hand and
drop it on the bed.
“For now,” she says.
“Get dressed, Charlotte. I’m going to make a quick call, then we’re
leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” I say, because I have no fucking clue yet. I haven’t done
anything just for the fun of it in years. We have a whole city at our
fingertips, and I haven’t the slightest idea where to begin.
As soon as I close the door behind me, I dig out my phone.
“Nikolai,” Yogi answers on the first ring.
“Yogi, I need you to do something for me.”
“What do you need?” he asks without hesitation.
“I need you to find someone for me. Oliver Harrison.”
“Isn’t that the guy we just went on a collection call for?” he asks,
confused.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“I thought we took payment.”
“No. I took payment,” I say clearly. Not that Yogi would be stupid
enough to try anything with Charlotte, I just want to be sure he understands
where I stand on the subject.
“Right. That’s what I meant. You took the girl.”
“Oliver has slithered off into hiding and I need him found. Not hurt,” I
emphasize for him. Normally, I don’t get involved in details, but for this
one, I have that one requirement. “Not hurt and not dead, just found.”
“You want me to give a message?” It’s what he does best, collections
and passing along messages to those that need a reminder.
“Not this time, Yogi. Just find him and let me know where he is. All
right?”
“Sure thing.”
“Good. And what about that other problem?”
“Tracked him down yesterday and have him sitting pretty until we take
a little field trip to the subway this afternoon.”
 “Good. I want to know as soon as you know something.” I end the call
just as Charlotte comes out of the bedroom. She’s taken her hair down from
the ponytail.
“Ready,” she says and slips her hands into the front pockets of the
capris. One of the pouch purses I had Alina add to the bunch hangs from
her shoulder.
I hit the elevator button and stuff my phone back into my pocket. Viktor
comes around the corner and sees us waiting for the lift.
“You need the car?” he asks, holding a plate with a sandwich and chips
on it.
“I got it.” I wave him off. “But I might need you later on.”
He nods, then heads off to the television room with his snack.
“Does he ever get the day off?” she asks me as the elevator arrives and
the doors slide open.
“He can have any day off he wants,” I shrug.
“He just doesn’t want any?”
“When he needs a day, he’ll take a day.”
“And you keep telling me I work too much? You work every day. He
works every day. So, is it because I’m a woman?” She presses her back to
the elevator and folds her arms over her chest, settling a new glare on me. I
can’t tell if she’s teasing me again, or if she wants to have this conversation.
“It’s not because you’re a woman,” I say, but I don’t elaborate.
“Then why is it okay for you to work all the time and not me?” she asks,
and I have no real answer for her. Not one she’d like anyway.
“You’re here paying off a debt. How can you do that if you’re working
somewhere else all the time, too?” It’s a bullshit line, but she doesn’t catch
it. She’s too angry over the words to look beneath them.
“That’s right.” She leans her shoulder against the elevator wall and
stares at the digital number on the screen counting down the floors until
we’re in the lobby.
“This way.” I wrap my hand around hers and gently lead her to the front
doors of the building. “It’s a nice day out today, I thought we’d walk.”
“To where?” she asks as I lead her down the street.
“This way.”
She grumbles and it’s the prettiest sound I’ve heard all day.
Charlie

“A CASTLE?” I laugh as the gothic architecture comes into view while we

walk along the path in Central Park.
He squeezes my hand gently. “You didn’t know this was here?”
“I haven’t been to Central Park since high school. We came down here
to see Shakespeare in the park,” I answer, taking in the castle that seems to
emerge from the rock formation it sits on.
“So, you’ve never been inside then,” he says. “Let’s go.” He leads us
toward the entrance stairs. I’m grateful for the walking sandals I’d found
among the shoes he bought yesterday. While I don’t need the stuff he
purchased, I can admit at least to myself how nice all of it is.
The sun is bright today and there’s a light breeze to ward off any
uncomfortable heat. He wasn’t wrong when he said it was a nice day out.
The mile and a half walk from his condo would have been brutal on a
humid summer day.
When we get to the top of the castle, the view of the park surprises me.
The greenery of the lawn sprouting from the lake lies like a blanket. Lush
trees sit in the foreground of the Upper East Side of Manhattan. People sit
along the lake with blankets and picnic lunches, while others ride the path
on bicycles.
“It’s actually very pretty from up here,” I say when he steps up beside
me.
“The city or the park?”
 “Both.” The breeze blows my hair into my mouth, and he pulls it free,
tucking it behind my ear. “Are we able to go into the tower?” I ask, pointing
at the highest peak of the castle.
He looks over his shoulder at the doors to the interior of the castle.
“Sure.”
There’s a man sitting at his post ready to field any questions posed to
him about the castle when we enter the visitors’ center. Nikolai doesn’t say
anything while I stop to read the plaques about the history of the building
and the remodeling that has taken place over the years.
“Here’s the tower.” There’s a thick black braided rope crossing the
entrance with a sign stating the tower is closed today, but Nikolai simply
unhooks the rope and gestures for me to walk ahead of him.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to go in there,” I say, leaning into the
entrance way at the spiral staircase.
“Sir! Sir!” The uniformed city worker hops off his chair and hurries
across the room and toward us with his hand raised in the air.
Nikolai turns toward him, still holding the rope in his hand.
“Oh!” He comes up short, huffing a little from his short jog, coupled,
I’m sure, with the anxiety of someone stepping into a blocked area. “I’m
sorry, Mr. Romanov. I didn’t realize it was you.” He throws on a grin.
“Have a good day,” he says then saunters off back to his post.
I stare at Nikolai with shock.
“What?” He raises an eyebrow when he catches me gawking up at him.
“I don’t understand you.”
“What’s there to understand?”
“Other than being the third son to Igor Romanov, you own a few
warehouses. Why does the Belvedere castle question guy know you, much
less be willing to look the other way while you violate the rules?”
His lips kick up. “Violate the rules?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Let’s get up there before other people see us. I don’t want the poor kid
to have to explain why they can’t go where I can.” He gestures again for me
to get going. He hasn’t explained anything.
I hurry up the spiral staircase, holding onto the metal railing as I make
my way up the narrow passageway. Even though I’ve never been to Europe
to see an actual castle, this place feels close to it.
 “You’ve done your homework about me,” Nikolai says when we’ve
reached the top floor of the tower.
“I may have looked up a few things,” I admit. The view from the
window is breathtaking; being at the highest point of the park, it’s probably
the best place to see the park. “You didn’t about me?”
He leans against the stone wall beside the window. “I always have the
information I need.”
“So, what did you learn in your lessons?” I ask, turning and leaning my
shoulder against the stones on the opposite side of the window.
“I learned that you’ve worked at your family’s restaurant since you were
fifteen, and after high school—which you graduated with high honors—you
skipped college and went to work full-time. After your mother passed away,
you moved into the apartment over the restaurant and after your father
passed, you took on the full responsibility of the deli.”
“That’s all you learned?” I scoff.
“Well, there is the three boyfriends you’ve had since graduation. Bill,
who is now a top executive at a very small tech company. Stephen, who is a
humanities teacher at a prep school up north. And there’s Jacob, who is now
driving one of those double decker tour buses around the city and lives in a
basement apartment of a building his father owns.”
Okay, I’m a little more impressed now.
“You looked up old boyfriends? Why?” I tilt my head, curious as why
he would bother with them. “Were you afraid I was a loose woman, which
would be a logical assumption considering what I offered you, and you
were concerned about what sort of diseases I might bring to your bed?”
His expression darkens.
“I wanted to be certain there wouldn’t be anyone I needed to take care
of if he came around trying to be your hero.” That was not the answer I was
expecting.
“Ah, and that leads me to the part of your life that I couldn’t find on the
internet. Other than a few mentions of your father. The man’s pretty
slippery according to the papers.” I fold my arms over my chest, unsure
how honest he’s willing to be with me.
“My family has very good lawyers.” He shrugs.
“And would your lawyers have helped you if one of my exes showed up
floating in Turtle Pond down there?” I ask, gesturing toward the window.
 He laughs, a dark sound that seems completely natural for him. “They
wouldn’t have been found.”
Another answer I wasn’t expecting.
“And your brothers?” I had only one brief encounter with Arman; his
oldest brother had been busy all night at the party. I only saw him at dinner,
and his conversation was geared more to their father. He left shortly after
we ate.
“My brothers? They work more closely with my father.” His eyes
narrow. “I’m actually the nice one of the family.”
I laugh. A loud boisterous sound, and I cover my mouth as my cheeks
flame.
He wraps his fingers around my wrist and pulls my hand away.
“Don’t do that. I like the sounds you make. Even when you’re being
rude and laughing at me.” His lips are tense, but his eyes are playful.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, I was… well, I don’t know.” It’s hard to think
in a straight line with him staring at me with teasing eyes.
He lets go of my wrist. “It’s okay, Charlotte.” He smiles. A genuine
smile that makes him look sexy as hell. The breeze from outside has his hair
messed up just enough that he looks almost friendly, and then he goes and
smiles like that.
I have to look away, then move across the tower to the window on the
opposite side. I get a better look of Turtle Pond and the people standing on
the observation deck below.
This is Nikolai Romanov with me; no normal man can smile at me like
that and make my heart melt. We aren’t on a date. This isn’t a relationship.
This is a business transaction.
“Why do you call me Charlotte?” The question pops out before going
through the proper filters that would have shut it down.
“That’s your name.” He’s still at the other window, staring at me from
behind.
“No one calls me that except you.” I slide my hands into the pockets of
the capris he bought me, a little surprised they have real pockets and not
just those fake sort that are sewed shut.
“I know.” His footsteps are soft over the stone flooring.
Another tremor moves through me. He has to stop it. He’s doing this on
purpose, probably to fuck with me. Because that’s what men like him do,
they mess with your head.
 “Maybe I don’t like it.” I raise my chin, though he’s still behind me and
probably can’t see my little act of defiance.
He makes a small sound, like he’s hiding a chuckle. I think he’s going to
say something else, but his phone goes off and he answers it.
“Yeah.” He steps away from me, back to the other side of the tower. I
try to concentrate on the view, but I can tell by his tone something isn’t
right.
After he ends the call, I turn back to him. “You have a meeting?” I think
we have different definitions of what a meeting is, but it’s not really the
time to discuss it.
“I have to take care of something.” He stashes his phone in the back
pocket of his jeans.
“I can take a cab back,” I offer. It’s a thirty-minute walk back to his
condo, and from the wrinkle of his brow, I’d say he needs to get moving.
“I’ll just walk around the park a bit more then head back.”
He looks ready to argue with me.
“I’m old enough to manage a walk through the park, Nikolai.”
“Viktor’s on his way. I’ll send him back to pick you up in an hour.” He
crosses the room again until his toes meet mine on the stone flooring. I
inhale him.
“One hour. Got it.” I nod along with his dictate and try to look away.
Why is it becoming so hard to look at him?
He won’t put up with my inattention though. He knuckles my chin until
I’m looking into those damn milk chocolate eyes of his.
“One hour. Keep your phone on. And when you get home, try to do
something relaxing. I have an entire library and a huge media room.”
“I can do that,” I say softly.
He runs his fingertips along my jaw, cupping my face and pulling me
closer to him.
“Good girl,” he whispers as he presses his lips—his warm, full lips—
against mine. He moves closer to me, his chest pushes against mine as he
deepens the kiss. My hands move to his chest, feeling his hard muscles
beneath his shirt. The moment stretches and I lean into him.
He nips my lip as he breaks away.
“One hour,” he says again and slides his hand down my arm and
entangles our fingers again. “I’ll take you back down.”
 I follow him down the spiral staircase and then all the way down to the
path we’d taken to get to the castle. His phone goes off again and he checks
it.
“Viktor’s here. You know your way around?”
“Yeah.” It’s not a complete lie. I can figure it out pretty easily.
He kisses my cheek. “Be careful. Anything happens, you call me right
away. Understand?”
The overprotectiveness should be a bright red flag, but given his
lifestyle and family businesses, it’s understandable. But no one knows about
me in his world. I’m nobody.
“I understand,” I say with a strong nod. “You better go, or you’ll be
late.”
He lets go of my hand, stops after three steps, shakes his head, then
continues down the path toward the street Viktor is no doubt blocking
traffic on to wait for him.
Okay. I have one hour of complete freedom in Central Park. But instead
of heading to the Shakespeare Garden or the carousel, I stand on the path,
watching Nikolai until he disappears around a bend.
This isn’t going to end well for me, is it?
Nikolai

“WHERE IS HE?” I march through the warehouse toward the back where
more delicate matters are seen to.
Yogi leads me through the maze of pallets of shipping containers.
“He’s not real talkative.” There’s a hint of glee in his tone. I think he
enjoys this part of his job more than most. He cracks his knuckles as we
turn down a corridor and down a flight of stairs. There are more storage
rooms in the basement of the warehouse, and he takes me to the last room
on the left.
Boris stands outside of it, scrolling through his phone. The stench of
blood and sweat floats heavily in the air, but he doesn’t seem affected by it.
“Has he said anything yet?” I ask, peeking through the six-inch square
window to see a man hunched over in a chair. He’s been worked on a little
already.
“No. He says he doesn’t know who the supplier is. Says he got the stuff
from someone off the street, but doesn’t know the name, and doesn’t
remember where he bought it,” Boris explains.
“You pick him up where the other asshole brought you?” Looking down
the hall, I don’t see any other rooms being used. The doors are all slightly
open.
“Same spot,” Yogi says.
“Where’s he now?” I ask.
“We let him go once we had this one,” Boris explains. “Seemed more
scared to be let go than to be kept.”
“And this one here.” I jerk a thumb at the door. “Did he have any more
of our stuff on him when you picked him up?”
 Yogi shakes his head. “No. He said he ran out a few days ago and hasn’t
been able to find more. Seems his clients prefer it to whatever crap he was
selling before he got a hold of ours.”
“Because it’s quality,” Boris adds.
“What’s his name?” I ask as I reach for the door handle.
“His street name is Viper, but his real name is Percy.”
I shake my head with a chuckle. Poor bastard.
The metal hinges creak when I jerk the door open. Dealer boy doesn’t
even look up at me when I step inside. It’s hot in here, which only makes
the stench of him worse. There’s a puddle beneath the chair. Asshole pissed
himself.
“Viper.” I stand in front of him. Zip ties bind his hands behind him. He’s
wearing an oversized black tank top and a pair of gray basketball shorts.
Blood has dried on his cropped blond hair.
“Viper. I’m talking to you.” I kick the leg of the chair.
He mutters something and slowly raises his head. Boris and Yogi have
been persuasive, I see.
I lean forward and take a look at the damage. The swelling will go down
and bruises will heal, even the cuts will fade away and leave him with
scarring he will no doubt use to try to ramp up his street cred. We’ve
probably helped this prick with this beating.
“Who are you?” Fear drips from his question.
I suck in a breath and stand back up to my full height; his eyes move to
the gun I have holstered at my side. His bottom lip trembles.
“I’m the guy you stole from.”
His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head. “I swear, man. I swear I don’t
know what you’re talking about. I told those other guys. I bought the shit
and sold the shit. I didn’t steal it. I swear I wouldn’t do that.”
I huff. “You sell drugs, Percy. You sell drugs to high school kids from
what I hear, but you wouldn’t steal?”
His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows hard.
“I don’t like when people sell drugs to high school kids.” Even we have
standards. No kids. We don’t sell anywhere near schools and no one looking
anything like a kid gets their hand on our shit.
“I didn’t steal from you.”
“That stuff you were selling, it had a bear stamp, yes?” I ask.
He bows his head, sucking in air and trying to calm himself.
 I don’t have time for this shit.
I kick the chair again, harder. “Think, Percy. Did the shit you sell have a
bear stamp on it?”
He nods; tears drip from his face and roll down his neck, over the faded
Polish flag tattooed on his neck.
“You’ve been in the market for a while, what does that stamp mean,
Percy?”
He sucks in more air. “It’s the Romanov stamp.”
“That’s right. And are you a fucking Romanov, Percy?” I demand.
He’s shaking his head faster now. “N-no.”
“And have you been given permission by the Romanovs to sell
Romanov product, Percy?”
“N-no.” He sniffles and looks up at me again. “I swear, I bought it. I
didn’t steal it. I didn’t… it was stupid.”
“Yeah, Percy, it was,” I nod. “Who did you buy it from?”
“I don’t know,” he whines. “I swear to God I don’t know. My guy
wasn’t there when I went to pick up my shit, this other guy was and he gave
me the bag full of the pills. I don’t know his name.”
“Where did you meet him? If you were meeting your usual guy, you
must have a regular spot?”
He shakes his head more, panic washing over him. “No, we switch it up
all the time. Rarely the same place twice.” He pauses to swallow again. “I
was so high. I don’t remember.” He’s pretty damn high right now, too. I’m
sure that’s causing problems for him.
He can’t be more than twenty. And it doesn’t look like he’s eaten a full
meal in a year. None of this is my problem.
“My guys are going to come back in and ask you a few more questions.
And then they are going to take you somewhere. You are going to stay
where they put you until they come back for you.” I tap his shoe with my
toe until he looks back up at me. “Because if you don’t, and we have to go
looking for you, it’s gonna be bad for you, Percy. Real bad.” I touch my gun
and he nods right away. Ah, good, so he can think.
“O-okay, yeah.”
“Good.” I leave him and step back into the hall after shutting the door
again.
“See if you can get any sort of description from him about the guy he
bought from. How he looks, talks, whatever he can tell you. And then dump
him off at Wellbridge.”
“Wellbridge? That’s an hour and a half away.” Yogi frowns.
“So?”
“Nothing,” he sighs. “You sure you wanna dump him at a rehab?”
I nod. “Pay cash, and the extra fee for making sure he stays put. If he
tries to leave, I want to be the first call they make. If anyone comes trying
to visit him, I want to know about it while the visitor is there.”
“You got it.”
I check my watch. Viktor should have taken Charlotte back home
already. Once I know she’s safe and sound, I’ll make a run to my father’s
townhouse on the way home.
“Clean him up before you take him,” I say then leave them to their job.

MY FATHER’S bellowing signals me to his whereabouts when I enter his

townhouse an hour later. He’s in the living room standing in front of his
television set cursing at the baseball game playing on the screen. Ivan sits
comfortably on the couch laughing.
“Yell all you want, Igor, the Yankees are going to lose this game.” Ivan
pops a pretzel in his mouth.
“The asshole has a hole in his mitt, I swear it. He’s throwing the game
on purpose.” My father points a finger at his longtime friend, then sees me
standing in the doorway and changes his stance. A grin breaks out across
his face. “Nikolai.”
“Hey.” I move further into the room. “How’s the game?” I never got
into sports. At least not the way my father has. I’ve seen him crush grown
men’s lives with a flick of his wrist, without a flicker of regret or emotion.
But to have his Yankees down by two runs will ruin his afternoon.
“They aren’t doing good.” He shakes his head then picks up the remote
and turns the volume down. “Down by two and they’re going into the last
inning.”
“They can still come back.” I offer hope, not knowing if it’s real or not.
 Ivan laughs. “The way they are playing today, it would be a miracle.”
He leans forward and grabs another fistful of pretzels from the bowl on the
coffee table.
Dad gives him a dirty look then makes his way over to me. “What’s
wrong?” He can always tell when there’s bad news coming.
“Small issue.” I lift a shoulder. “I’m taking care of it, but I wanted to
make sure you’re aware of it.”
He slides one hand into his pocket and stares at me, the full demeanor of
his expression hardening.
“We can talk after the game,” I offer, but he shakes his head.
“Forget the game. What’s going on?” Dad prompts.
Ivan gets up from the couch and grabs the remote, turning off the
television. Ivan’s dealings in our family have been on the fringe. He doesn’t
get his hands dirty, but he helps when he can. I’ve never really understood
his role, other than he and my father worked together when they were
younger, and he was to be trusted.
“Found the bear in the wrong pockets this week,” I explain.
He frowns. “Did you find the source?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
Dad gestures for me to sit in the leather armchair while he takes the
chair across the table and Ivan sits back on the couch.
“I was hoping it was an unapproved sale, but I think it’s more. I’m
looking into it, but I wanted to keep you in the loop. I think one of our
distribution lines is split.” Someone’s selling our shit outside the line he’s
supposed to be, and we’ll have to track him down.
“Any of the money not showing up like it’s supposed to?” Ivan asks
casually. “Someone short this month that’s not usually?”
I shake my head. “No. Finances line up fine.”
“So, whoever’s doing this is probably making a profit off our product,
pocketing it, and then paying his usual cut back to us.” Dad grips the ends
of the armchair. Fucking with our money has one penalty and one only.
Even if the guilty person is giving us the usual cut, he’s making profit off
our product. He might as well be stealing cash right out of my pocket.
“This just happened?” Ivan shakes a fist full of pretzels in his hand then
tosses one into his mouth.
“This week, yeah,” I nod. “Like I said, I’m looking into it, but I wanted
you to be aware.”
 Dad nods. “Make sure you talk to Roman and Arman.”
“I’ll talk with them tomorrow.”
“Good.” Dad lets out a heavy sigh.
“He’ll figure it out.” Ivan tosses back another pretzel. “Could still be a
onetime thing.”
He could be right, but I doubt it. If there’s a leak in our distribution, it
needs to be plugged.
“That girl you brought last night, what was her name?” Dad swings the
topic exactly where I don’t want to go.
“Charlotte.”
“Is it serious? You brought her to my birthday party, Nikolai. It’s not
exactly the place to bring your latest conquest.” He raises his eyebrows.
“You want to lecture me about the girl I’m seeing? Meanwhile Arman
runs around the city being led by his dick?” I want to laugh.
“Arman doesn’t bring his flings to my birthday,” he counters.
“She’s staying with me. At least for a little while.” I lift a shoulder. “It’s
not serious, no, but she’s going to be around for a bit.” I don’t want to be
here anymore. Now that we’re talking about Charlotte, my thoughts go
straight for her. I want to be home, with Charlotte. No, not with—in
Charlotte.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you think I don’t know what
goes on?”
Of course he knows. Arman has a big fucking mouth.
“She made the offer. I accepted.” It’s as easy as that. “It wasn’t my idea.
It was hers. And you can feel free to ask her when you see her next.” I can
already imagine the brightness of her red cheeks when he does. I should
prepare her for the possibility.
“And the money her brother owes?”
“He’ll be back asking for more loans. We’ll double the interest.” I tell
him the same thing I told my brother. The cash will be recouped.
“She has a business, right?”
“A sandwich shop. She owns the majority, but her brother has some
rights to it.”
“She can sell it to pay the brother’s loan.”
“His debt isn’t her sin.”
“And yet she sleeps in your bed to repay it.” He points a long finger at
me, having snared me.
 “Like I said, she offered, I accepted. If she had said she would sell the
shop to pay it back, I would have given her the time to do it. But she
didn’t.” I’m lying to my father, straight to his face, and worse, by the look
in his eyes, he can tell.
“And when you’re done playing with her, you’ll just toss her back into
her old life?” Ivan interjects.
“She’s aware of the situation. There are no expectations here.” Clear
lines have been drawn. One month. That’s all I get. It’s all she offered.
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Dad shrugs.
“What wouldn’t be?” That little sense you get when something horrible
is about to said or done starts to shoot off warning flares.
“Getting married.” He tilts his head. “I wouldn’t mind having
grandchildren running around before I get too old to spoil them.”
I look at him, really look at him. This man has ordered the extinction of
entire crews, tried to kill off an entire family in Boston; every ounce of
power he has right now is because he was ruthless in the way he took
possession of it. And yet, here he sits talking about spoiling his
grandchildren.
“I’m not marrying Charlotte,” I finally say. Better to put a stop to those
thoughts before they overdevelop.
He stares at me for a long moment then shrugs. “So, you’ll just use her
all up and then toss her to the side. A well-deserved punishment for having
a deadbeat brother.”
“You’re getting dramatic in your old age.” I push up from the chair. “If
you don’t have anything else you want to talk about, I’m heading home.
You can get back to your Yankees; maybe they still have a chance.”
He waves his hand through the air, gesturing for me to go. “Just do me a
favor, Nikolai. The next time you feel the need to punish your girl and fuck
her senseless, maybe use the bedrooms upstairs instead of the garden.”
With one foot already out of the living room, I turn to look at him.
“Like I said, I know everything that goes on.” He laughs. “Now go. I
have things to do.” He gestures for Ivan to turn the television back on.
I leave his house and decide to take a cab instead of waiting for Viktor
to come back for me. Charlotte would probably dissolve in a pool of
humiliation if she knew my father knows what went on in his garden. While
I love that blush of hers, this would be more death by mortification—and I
want to do many things to Charlotte, but killing her isn’t one of them.
Charlie

IT’S ALREADY eight-thirty by the time I get home from the deli. My feet
throb in my gym shoes and my head hurts. Other than the lights in the
hallway, the condo is dark. Nikolai must not be home yet.
I pause, catching my own twisted thinking. This isn’t my home. This is
Nikolai’s home. This is just my prison for another three weeks until he’s
forgiven Oliver’s stupid debt. Maybe not a complete prison; he hasn’t
stopped me from working this week. He’s been annoyingly protective by
making Viktor drive me every morning and pick me up every evening, but
at least he hasn’t made him babysit me all day like he did that first day.
The bedroom’s empty. Nikolai sent me a text a few hours ago, saying
he’d be working late. He said he’d have my dinner ready when I got home.
I called the housekeeper and put an override on his order. I’m too tired to
eat. I’m sure he’ll be pissed about it if he finds out, but I’m betting he’ll be
too tired himself to care. He was up and gone this morning before I even
woke up and he’ll probably roll into bed after midnight.
And he’ll drape his arm over me and pull me tight against his body
before kissing me behind my ear.
I sigh as I toss my purse on the chair beside the dresser. I need a cold
shower from thinking about the way his touch makes me feel, but my body
is screaming for a hot bath.
I decide on the bath first; desiring his touch and feeling guilty about it
can wait until later.
 After digging around beneath the sink, I find a bottle of body wash. It’s
not the same as the bubble bath flakes I have at home, but it will do in a
pinch. While the tub is filling with water hot enough to boil an egg in, I
strip out of my work clothes. My shirt reeks of onions, thanks to making
that last three-foot submarine sandwich for Jimmy Thompson’s poker game
tonight.
My muscles give a collective sigh of relief as I settle myself into the
tub. One of the part-timers called in sick at the last minute, and we actually
had a steady day of customers, so I stayed to help for the evening.
I’m going to miss this tub when I go back to my normal life. The one I
have at home is just your standard bathtub. Even with my short stature, I
have to bend my knees to fit completely in it. This tub, though, there’s
enough room in here for at least one more person.
Maybe Nikolai would like to slide in here with me. I’m sure we could
find something to help us both relax while sinking beneath the bubbles.
The thoughts of his lips against mine, his fingers spreading my pussy
open and his tongue roaming over my skin are enough to make me rethink
relaxing. I slide my hand beneath the bubbles and gently begin to rub my
clit. Thinking again about his mouth on me, on my clit, on my nipples, on
my throat—it drives my arousal up higher. His cock thrusting in and out of
me while he bites down on my neck. Fuck, I love when he does that.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the edge of the cliff. My toes curl
against the porcelain tub as I rub harder and faster. His tongue—
remembering how hot and inviting his tongue is—is just enough to flip the
switch and send me hurtling down, down, down from the peak of my
arousal.
As the first wave hits, I scream, calling out his name and moaning. No
one’s home, so I unleash without fear. It’s exhausting. My body crumples
against the tub when the last bit of my orgasm fades away.
“That looked like fun.” Nikolai’s voice cracks through my brain fog and
my eyes snap open.
He’s leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. He’s already
stripped off his shirt and shoes. He’s just standing there in his trousers.
“I… I thought you weren’t home.” I gather up the last of the bubbles
and bring them closer to my chest. As though he’s never seen my bare
breasts before, or there’s anything I can hide from him at this point.
 “I wasn’t.” He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to the tub,
standing right beside me. His dick is obviously pushing against the zipper
of his pants. “I am now.”
“I can see that.” I sink lower into the water.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks, grabbing his belt buckle and starting
to undo it. I check his eyes, they’re calm. His jaw is relaxed.
He shoves his pants down and picks them up.
“I did,” I say, because he just watched me come completely unglued
while masturbating —and screaming out his name—so why would I lie?
He smiles, but it’s a half smile. Like he’s too exhausted to even tease me
about it. He disappears back into the room then comes back without his
pants. He’s just in his boxers now. A pair of black cotton boxers and bare
feet.
His back is to me while he brushes his teeth. Every time he moves, I can
make out his muscles flexing. When he turns back around, I take in his
chest, his abs, that damn v shape thing he’s got going on. It’s not fair to find
your captor so damn attractive. It’s not fair that I’m supposed to hate him,
but I can’t seem to muster up the feelings.
“You look stressed,” I say when he just stares at me.
“I’m tired, that’s all.” He still has that tent in his boxers. His eyes drift
down my face to my breasts peeking out of the bathwater. The bubbles have
diluted so much by now, they’re no help in covering anything. “You look
like you had a hard day.”
“It was busy today. It was a good day.” I move to sit sideways in the
tub, crossing my legs to accommodate my position. “It hasn’t been busy
like that in a long time.”
He hooks his hands on his hips, and it makes him look even sexier. “The
bubbles are all gone.”
“I’ve been in here a little while,” I nod.
He stares at me again, longer this time like he’s debating something in
his head. Finally, he grabs the towel hanging from the rod next to the tub
and curls his hand, signaling me to get up.
“Let’s get you dried off,” he says, holding the towel open for me.
I open the tub drain then slowly move to my feet. He has one hand
reached out toward me, so I grab it, letting him be my anchor as I step out
of the tub and onto the gray memory-foam bathmat. Thinking he’s going to
give me the towel, I reach for it, but he moves it away.
 “You took your orgasm from me, you won’t take this away,” he says
and begins to wipe away the droplets from my shoulders.
“You never said I couldn’t,” I say softly, quietly inhaling him as he
moves around my body with the towel. His aftershave mingles with the
stale scent of a cigarette. He’s more than tired; he’s had a hard day. He only
smokes when he needs to take the edge off.
He brings his eyes level with mine, tension in his jaw. “I never said you
could, either.”
“I guess you have a point.” I watch his hands in the mirror as he moves
them over my body, making sure every inch of me is dried. This feels
natural, comforting.
“So agreeable tonight.” He smiles. There’s a deep crease on the left side
of his mouth, and I think for the first time I’m seeing a genuine smile from
him.
“Too tired to be otherwise, I guess.” I lift a shoulder. I can’t let him
think he has the total upper hand here.
He chuckles and drops the towel to the floor between us. I look down at
it, then at the tent of his boxers. Instant desire floods me again. Without
checking his expression, I hook my thumbs into the elastic of his boxers
and drag them down to his feet as I move down to my knees. The towel acts
as the perfect pillow.
“You think you can make up for what you did?” he asks, his voice
heavy and deep.
I wrap my hand around his thick cock. He’s warm, and so fucking hard.
As I stroke my hand up his shaft, a bead of pre-cum appears on the tip of
his cock. Without hesitation, I lick it up.
“Fuck,” he groans and it’s all the invitation I need.
Swirling my tongue around the head of his dick, I slowly take him into
my mouth, and then further, over my tongue and down my throat. I stop
when he hits the back, and I swallow around his thickness.
I’m rewarded with another guttural sound from him. Pulling back
slowly, painfully slow because all I want to do is devour him, I drag my
tongue along the underside of his shaft, and then flick against the sensitive
spot just below the head.
“Fucking tease,” he growls and grabs my head, a hand on each side.
“Open wide, Charlotte.” It’s the only warning I’m given before he drives
his cock straight into my throat. I sputter, but he doesn’t care. He pulls back
just enough to allow him to thrust forward again.
I press my hands against his muscular thighs for balance as he resumes
control and fucks my face as hard as he pleases. And somewhere in me I
know I should hate him for this, for taking what I wanted to give and then
taking even more, but heaven help me, I don’t. I love this. I want this. I
want to curl up under this power he wields over me and let him take me
wherever he wants.
“Fuck,” he grunts through his teeth. “I’m going to hurt you like this, get
up.” He releases me and takes a step back. Immediately, I miss having him
in me. The salty aftertaste isn’t enough. I get to my feet, and he grabs me by
the back of my head, fisting my hair at the scalp, and pushes me against the
shower glass wall with his body.
“Nikolai.” I breathe his name, suddenly in as much need as him.
He lines up our gazes and that smile of his, the one that warns of
dangerous deliciousness, curls his lips.
“Oh, no, Charlotte. You’ve had your fun; this is all me. If you come
again, I’ll spin you around and fuck your ass dry. It will hurt and you’ll feel
it for days, so I really suggest you be careful.”
He’s not bluffing. Nikolai never does. No matter how bad it is, he will
always tell me the truth.
He lets go of my hair and reaches down, hoisting me up from the floor
and wrapping my legs around his waist. I lean my head back against the
shower wall and prepare for his first thrust.
It’s immediate and it’s filling and it’s hard and it’s so fucking good. But
he wasn’t kidding when he said this is all for him. He thrusts harder and
faster, biting at my neck as he fucks me against the wall. For a brief
moment I worry the glass will break with the force of him fucking me. His
head drops to my shoulder; his hot breath washing over my skin that’s
sensitive from soaking in the hot water.
“So good, you’re being so good for me,” he mutters between hard
breaths.
I fist his hair, gently pulling him from my shoulder. As soon as I’m
within reach, I capture his mouth, kissing him hard. He presses me harder
against the wall. His tongue sweeps between my lips and takes over the
kiss. I release his hair, but don’t stop touching him. I can’t. I want this
connection, this feeling of our bodies touching at all points.
 My back rubs against the glass as he rocks my body against it.
He breaks the kiss and plows into me once, then twice before he stills as
his orgasm takes over his body. His eyes widen, his mouth falls open and I
kiss his chin, his cheek while he rides the waves of his release.
Slowly, he comes back to me, his eyes focus on me, and he lets out a
deep breath and presses his head against my shoulder again. Gingerly, he
puts my feet back on the floor and slips out of me, leaving me wanting and
open for him. But he made his decision and I know he’s not going to go
back on it.
After another moment passes, he lifts his head up and kisses my cheek.
“I forgot the condom,” he mutters, stepping away and running his hand
harshly through his hair.
“It’s okay,” I say, reaching for the towel, but he grabs my hand.
“No. Leave it.”
I stand back up and look at him.
“It’s late, you should get to bed.” He grabs his boxers and quickly pulls
them on.
His cum, hot and thick, leaks down my inner thigh. He notices it as he
scoops up the towel, but he doesn’t give it to me.
“I like having my seed on your skin. Marking you.” He throws the towel
in a laundry bin. “Go on, get in bed.”
As I turn to leave, he grabs my arm and spins me back to him. His
hands frame my face, and his mouth covers mine. It’s desperate, this kiss.
It’s like he wants to climb inside and hide, while I want to cling to him and
not let go.
When he breaks it, he stares into my eyes. “Go to bed, Charlotte.”
“You have to let go of me first,” I say, since his hands are still on my
face.
“I’m not sure I can,” he mutters, but it’s low and said under his breath
like I’m not supposed to hear it.
But I did.
His hands fall to his sides, and he jerks his head toward the open door.
“Bed. And if you touch yourself, I’ll know.”
I nod, because he looks too serious to tease him right now.
After I leave the bathroom, I close the door and lean against it. The
shower turns on.
He’s not sure if he can let me go.
Worse.
I’m not sure I want him to.
Nikolai

IT’S GOING to be humid as hell today, I can already feel it. The air is
thick. I check my phone to see if Charlotte has left for the day and am
surprised to see she’s still at the condo. It’s already past nine. She’s usually
up and out before eight. She stops for a coffee on the way there—a small
café a block away from the deli. I think she goes out of her way to shop the
local small businesses and keeps her cash out of the chain store registers.
Yogi jogs down the steps of the brownstone he’s been shacking up in the
last few weeks. A day-old beard clings to his jawline and the bags under his
eyes suggest he had as little sleep as I did last night.
“Whose place is this?” I ask, gesturing to the brownstone.
“Eva’s.” He drops the name, and when I look up, I see a brunette
watching us from the bedroom windows.
“You’re being careful, yes?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Nikolai. I’ve known her since high school.
There’s nothing to be careful about.” He glances over his shoulder and
waves at her. She smiles, then disappears behind the curtain.
“Eva.” I try to place her. If he knew her in high school, then shouldn’t I?
“Her mother and mine played cards on the weekends. They went to the
same women’s club. You don’t know her,” he answers before I can even
ask.
“Even more reason to be careful, right? What will her mother do if you
break her heart?” I tease. Yogi takes a cigarette from his shirt pocket and
lights it.
 “I’m marrying her, Nikolai.” He takes a drag then brings his eyes to
mine. “This fall.”
I look back at the window then to him. “You won’t get a fight out of me.
She has a good family?”
“Her family brought her here from Russia when she was in grade
school. Her father owns five laundromats. He’s not associated with anyone
that would hurt us,” he explains.
I nod and smile. “Congratulations then.”
“Thank you.” He blows out a cloud and drops the cigarette to the
ground and crushes it with his heel. “You drove yourself?” He looks at the
empty driver’s side of the car.
“I can do that, you know.”
“I thought Boris was picking you up,” Yogi frowns.
“I told him to meet us here. I got a call from the clinic. Percy is out of
detox and has stabilized. You two are going to go out there today and see if
you can get more information out of him. Maybe his memory is cleaned up
now that the shit isn’t in his veins.”
Just as I say it, Boris pulls behind my car.
“What’d I miss?” he asks as he steps onto the curb.
“We’re going to the clinic to have a chat with our friend,” Yogi
explains.
“What about Oliver? Any luck tracking him down?”
Yogi shakes his head. “No, that worm has buried himself deep. I have a
few more rocks to turn over, though so I’m sure we’ll find him soon.”
I clench my jaw. It’s one thing for an asshole to run from me because
he’s trying to hide from his debt. But this prick knows his sister is paying
his debt for him and instead of coming forward to take care of it himself, he
goes into hiding.
“Let me know as soon as you know anything.” I climb into the driver’s
seat of my car and Yogi jogs off to get to work.
I turn on the car, blasting the air conditioning while I text Viktor to find
out why they’re still home. Is she sick? I was too hard with her last night,
forcing my cock down her throat then fucking her against the wall. I
shouldn’t have taken my stress out on her, not like that. Even if she did start
it with getting on her knees the way she did.
I groan at the mental images starting to pop up. My cock stiffens just
remembering the feel of her fingers wrapping around my cock. And then
her tongue… holy fuck, that tongue of hers.
Dropped her at the deli an hour ago.
Maybe she left her phone at the condo.
She’s not going to want to go the whole day without her phone, and it’ll
only take an hour to grab it and get it to her. And my decision to bring it to
her has nothing to do with the lingering memory of her tongue.

THE DELI IS busy when I finally arrive. It took some doing to find her
phone. She hadn’t left it on the charging station in the bedroom. I had to
keep calling the damn thing until the ringing finally led me to the powder
room just off the foyer. Teetering off the edge of the countertop.
She has three other staff members working with her today, which is
good since the customers are lined up waiting to give their orders. Almost
every booth in the place is taken.
Charlotte’s carrying an order to the booth in the far corner of the deli
when I see her. She slides the tray between the two people sitting across
from each other with a smile. After wiping her hands on the black apron she
has tied around her waist, she hustles back behind the counter to take the
next order.
I want to interrupt her. I want to walk behind the counter and wrap my
arms around her waist and kiss the little spot behind her ear that gets her to
make the sexiest mewling sound I’ve ever heard. Instead, I stand against the
far wall, watching her work.
It takes almost an hour for the rush to die down. There are several
empty booths now and there’s only two people waiting to put their order in.
Charlotte lets out a long breath and looks over the counter. A delicate
blush touches her cheeks when our eyes meet. I won’t lie to myself and
pretend it doesn’t boost my ego to see her reaction.
Sliding out of the booth I parked myself in, I point toward the kitchen.
She gives a curt nod, then whispers something to Joey before meeting me at
the swinging door.
 “What are you doing here?” she asks, but it’s laced with curiosity,
unlike the other times she’s asked.
“You left this at home.” I pull her phone from my back pocket and offer
it to her.
Her gaze shifts down to the phone cradled in my palm and visible relief
covers her features.
“Thank you. I thought I lost it on the way back from the coffee shop
when I was putting my wallet back in my purse.” She takes the phone and
quickly swipes it to life. Notifications are lined up on the screen, but she
quickly swipes through them before shoving it in the back pocket of her
jeans.
“You came all the way over here just to drop off my phone?” She folds
her arms over her chest. “How did you know I didn’t have it anyway? I
didn’t see a missed text.”
“The tracker showed you were still at home, but Viktor said he’d
dropped you off this morning.”
Her eyes widen; apparently it hadn’t occurred to her I would do
something like that. “You have a tracking device on my phone?” She yanks
it back out and quickly swipes through the screens.
“It’s an app, Charlotte, not a bug. I can’t see your texts or your calls,
just where you are.” I gently take the phone from her and open the tracker
for her.
Her jaw tightens as she scrolls through the location list. “I can’t believe
you put a tracker on my phone.”
“Why would you think I wouldn’t?” I tilt my head.
“Because maybe you trust me?” She says it like an accusation. “I
haven’t given you any reason to think I was going to run off. I’ve done
everything you’ve said. I moved into your damn condo. I’ve let Viktor drive
me to and from work.”
“You have been more cooperative this past week,” I nod. “I downloaded
the tracker on the first night you were with me. You hadn’t given me reason
to trust you at that point.”
“And now?” She frowns. “Do you think I’ll run off now and break off
the deal?”
The deal.
It’s always about that, isn’t it?
 “No,” I answer simply. “I don’t. The tracker is also a way for me keep
you safe. I’ll always know where you are, so if something bad happens, I
can get to you.” It occurs to me whoever might be starting up their own
distribution line with our product might have the balls to try to use
Charlotte against me. If it means saving their ass, anyway.
“Why would something bad happen to me, Nikolai?” she asks with
narrowed eyes. This is a test; will I tell her the truth or not.
“Because my family has enemies.” It’s the simple answer. It’s also the
only answer I’m going to offer.
She shakes her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Not always,” I promise her.
“Hey, Charlie, mind if I go down the street for a coffee run?” Joey
pokes his head into the kitchen.
“Yeah, of course. One sec.” She jogs into the closet she calls an office
and comes back out with bills in her hand. “My treat. Get me an iced vanilla
latte with an extra shot.”
Joey looks at me. “You want something, Nikolai?”
I’m on a first name basis now with her staff?
“No,” I frown, but when she shoots me a dark look, I add, “Thanks.”
“He’s engaged,” she says to me once Joey’s gone. “You don’t have to
look at him like he’s your enemy.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m a possessive man, Charlotte. And I don’t like
sharing.”
“He’s my employee. And like I said, he’s engaged.”
I hook my thumbs into her jeans at her hips and pull her closer to me.
“But he spends all day with you.”
“Not getting what you paid for?” she asks then looks down. “I’m sorry.
A bad joke.” She wiggles her way out of my grip and rubs her neck.
“The shop seems to be doing better. There was a long line when I got
here.”
“Yeah. That big name sandwich shop a block down closed up shop. No
notice, no warning, just closed for business. Since then, we’ve seen a lot
more customers. Someone said something about the health department
closed them down, but I’m not sure how true that is.”
“Seems like a good reason for a shutdown like that,” I say, keeping my
tone neutral.
 She gapes at me for a long moment. The dots are connecting right
before my eyes.
“You had them shut down.” I can’t tell if she’s angry or impressed. Her
eyes are narrowed, but there’s a light to them I haven’t seen before. “You
actually did that?”
“You said you needed a way to get more customers in the door.”
“Not like that!” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “You can’t
just do that, Nikolai.”
I moved closer to her again, capturing her face in one hand and leaning
down to kiss her. I’ve been waiting over an hour to kiss her lips and I won’t
deny myself any longer. She tastes like honey and feels like heaven pressed
against me. My mother once told me my father just felt right to her. That he
just fit. This must be what she was talking about.
Her lips are puffy when I pull away, her eyes searching mine.
“When you need something, I’ll get it for you. That’s how this works.
And I’ll do it however I need to do it.” I release her. “You’ve been working
a lot of nights. I don’t like it. I can send a guy over to help or you can hire
someone.”
“You don’t have to send anyone. I’ll take care of it.” Her voice is softer
now, more pliable, but there’s still that fierceness I’ve come to expect in her
eyes.
“We have a family party this weekend.”
“We?”
I smile. “Yes, Charlotte. We. A christening for my cousin’s baby. So
make sure you have the deli covered this weekend.”
“The whole weekend?”
I nod. “The entire thing.”
She studies me for a long moment. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.” I lean forward and kiss the top of her head. I don’t trust myself
to touch her anywhere else right now or I’ll have to drag her into her office
and really touch her.
“Nikolai,” she calls me as I reach for the door. “Thanks for bringing my
phone,” she says with a wobbly smile.
“Of course.” I leave her, but I have a feeling no matter how far into the
city I drive today, she’s going to be front and center in my thoughts.
Charlie

IT’S BECOMING TOO COMFORTABLE. Every night I leave the deli

after getting the deposit ready for the bank, then head out when Viktor
arrives to take me home. Viktor drives me through the bank so I can drop
the deposit, then he takes me straight to Nikolai’s condo. I check in with
Joey or Silvia, whichever one is closing for the night, but everything is
going smoothly.
I’ve even hired another part-time worker—a high school senior who lost
her job at the brick stone sandwich shop down the block that Nikolai had
shut down. If business keeps this steady, I might be able to pick up another
full timer, too. Not that it will ease the discomfort I feel about the other
employees who lost their jobs because Nikolai shut down the shop in order
to create more business for mine.
My father wouldn’t like the way this has been handled, but he’d be
grateful for the business. If things stay like this, like they used to be when I
was in high school and Dad and Mom ran things, I won’t have to worry
about shutting the doors. I won’t have to consider their dream failing.
“Where are we going?” I ask Viktor when I realize he’s passed our
street and is coming up on 91st.
“Meeting Nikolai. There’s a bag on the floor back there with your
clothes. You’ll change when we get there,” Viktor tells me, then maneuvers
around a stalled car. It’s Friday night, my feet hurt, and I probably reek of
the vinegar I spilled on my shirt this afternoon.
 “Where are we meeting Nikolai?” I pick up the bag and rifle through.
It’s the black dress he picked out for his father’s birthday party along with
shoes and a jewelry box. When I open it, and the string of diamonds stares
back up at me, my mind blanks. This necklace could pay off the mortgage
on the deli and my car loan with change to spare.
It’s too much. I snap the box closed.
“What? I’m sorry, Viktor, I drifted for a second. What did you say?” I
lean forward to give him my attention.
He gives me a side eye, the one he gives me on nights when I’m
exhausted and worked late. “I said an associate of Nikolai’s is having a
party for his daughter’s birthday. He wants you to meet him there.”
“Another party?” I look down at myself. “Viktor, take me to the condo.
I have to shower. I spilled red vinegar on myself, and I stink. Not to
mention my hair’s been tied back in this ponytail all day. I look horrible.
Not even that necklace can make me presentable.” I shove the bag back to
the floorboard.
“I’ve already told him we’re on our way.”
“I’m not going like this,” I argue. “Turn around and take me to the
condo. I’ll shower and get ready there.”
He looks at me through the rearview mirror. “He’s expecting you.”
“For the love of…” I mutter and lean back against the leather seat with
my arms folded over my chest. “I think he wants to humiliate me. He’s
going to end up embarrassing himself, having me there stinking of vinegar
and looking like this.” I clench my jaw. There’s no talking to Viktor once
he’s been given his orders. No one overrides Nikolai’s orders.
“Why would he want to embarrass you?” Viktor asks, and I can see the
disbelief in his expression through the mirror.
“I don’t know. Because he likes it?” The man does everything he can to
make me blush when we’re alone at night. There isn’t a part of my body he
hasn’t become best friends with, and he’s always blunt about his ideas of
what to do with me—no matter how vulgar.
“He has hurt you?” This time, his voice hardens. Maybe there is a crack
in the control Nikolai holds over his men.
“No.” I won’t lie.
Viktor shrugs. “Then you have no reason to worry.”
A few minutes later, Viktor pulls through the gates of a house that looks
more like a small university. I’m too busy pressing my face against the
window to admire the architecture of the building to notice that he’s
stopped. A moment later, Nikolai appears at my door.
I grab the bag just as he opens the door and puts his hand out for me.
“Nikolai, maybe I should go home first. Let me shower—” I’m ignored
though, and he wraps his hand around mine and pulls me out of the car.
“You can shower here,” he says, gesturing to Viktor then shutting the
door. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are stoic.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him as he pulls me up the steps. Two large men
are perched at the front double doors. One of them nods to Nikolai and the
door opens for us to pass through.
The interior of the house is as magnificent as the outside. I’m not an
expert on architecture by any stretch of the imagination, but this place
belongs in a magazine. The high ceilings of the foyer, the arched entrance
ways, the marble flooring—it all looks like something out of The Great
Gatsby.
I’m not given much time in my admiration though; Nikolai leads me to
the swirling staircase. Music plays from somewhere deeper in the house and
for a moment, loud chatter escapes the party. A door must have opened,
then shut.
“Nikolai.” I yank my hand from his grip as soon as we’re at the top of
the stairs, forcing him to stop and look back at me. “What’s wrong?”
He arches a brow, and this look reminds me of the first time I
questioned him. Standing in his dining room, demanding answers and him
trying to understand how I could have the audacity to do it.
“You need to change.” He walks across the massive hallway to the first
door. The leather soles of his shoes click against the tiles of the floor. The
golden light from the sconces on the wall casts a shadow across his face
when he turns back to me.
I pass him into the bedroom.
“Who lives here?” I breathe my question. His condo is beautiful, but
this place, it’s something out of literature.
“A business partner.” Nikolai shuts the door and flips the lock, so we
won’t be disturbed. “The bathroom’s through that door.”
I start heading that way, but stop and turn around.
“Are you upset with me because I worked late or are you mad at the
world in general?” I ask and he stares at me with a blank expression. I hate
when I can’t read him. “Just so I know if I should push my luck with the
panty situation in this bag.” I lift up the bag.
“There aren’t any panties in that bag.” He raises that dark eyebrow of
his again.
“I know.”
His steps are silent as he moves across the carpeting. Reaching up, he
tugs on my hair tie until my hair falls loose around my shoulders. It’s a
mess, I’m sure, and there’s probably a big dent in it from the hair tie, but he
brushes his hands through it like he’s been waiting all day to do just this.
“I’m not mad at you,” he says quietly. “But if you push the panty
situation, I’ll be disappointed.”
His eyes line up with mine, and for that moment, that brief second that
passes between us, I know I’m not going to do anything to disappoint him
tonight. There’s a tension to him I don’t understand the cause of, but I know
the feeling. Whatever battle he’s fighting, it’s going uphill. And I won’t add
to it.
Not tonight at least.
“Good to know,” I smile, then take a step backward. “I’m going to wash
off this vinegar smell and be right out.” Then I hurry into the bathroom.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING to tell me whose house this is?” I whisper to

Nikolai as we walk down the hall toward the room where music plays.
“I would if I knew,” he says, squeezing my hand playfully. “It’s a rental
property. My father’s friend has it rented out to celebrate his daughter’s
birthday.”
“Another birthday party.” I shake my head. “This place is gorgeous.”
“I thought you might like it.” He smiles. “You’ve been reading the
Architectural Digest magazines.”
“I was just flipping through them.” There’s been a stack of them on the
coffee table in the living room for the past week.
“Ever think about pursuing that interest?” he asks.
“I like to look at the pictures. I have no idea how architecture actually
works,” I say. “Besides, I have Dad’s deli to run.”
 He pauses at the double doors at the end of the long foyer and looks
down at me. “Is it your dad’s or is it yours?”
“What?”
“Your dad isn’t around anymore, Charlotte. But you refer to it as his
deli,” he points out.
“I don’t know, it’s just been Dad’s deli for so long, I just… it doesn’t
mean anything. I like running the deli.” I grew up in that deli. My entire
future has been anchored by it.
He raises an eyebrow but stays quiet. “One more question. What’s the
panty situation like?”
My cheeks heat instantly. The man just likes doing this to me.
“Nikolai.” I look at the doors. We’re alone in the hallway, but that
doesn’t mean someone won’t step out at any moment.
“Charlotte?” He mocks my tone. He’s teasing me.
I sigh. “I didn’t disappoint you,” I respond.
“Show me.” He flips his chin up, a signal to turn around and flip my
skirt.
“We’re in public.”
“You say that as if I care.” He folds his arms over his chest, another sign
that he’s not going to move until I do as I’m told.
Muttering to myself, I turn around and lift the skirt of the black dress up
to show him my bare ass. The second after the air-conditioned air touches
my skin, his hand connects, instantly warming it. I yelp, then quickly drop
my skirt and turn back around.
“Public,” I say, but he looks too damn pleased with himself to even hear
me, I think.
“Okay, now we can go inside. Be a good girl, tonight, Charlotte, and
when we get home, you’ll be richly rewarded.”
He pulls the door open, music flitters out, and the chattering of at least a
hundred people fills the space between us.
Nikolai stops momentarily once we’re inside, then wrapping his arm
around my waist, gently leads me to a table where his father and one of his
brothers stands. The other guests are milling about, most of them are young
—late teens, early twenties maybe.
“How old is this girl?” I ask.
“Anya? She’s turning twenty-one today,” he answers.
 It’s obvious who the friends of the birthday girl are and who the
associates of the family are by where they are placed in the room. Huddles
of men in expensive suits are associates, and each one of them looks more
dangerous than the next. I find myself stepping a little closer to Nikolai as
we pass several tables of them.
“Nikolai!” his father greets us with a wide grin. “Ah, you brought
Charlotte. Good to see you again.”
“Hello.” I’m unsure of how to act here. “Nice to see you, too.” I’m not
family, I’m not remotely close to being a friend, but Igor looks at me as
though he’s genuinely happy to see me here with Nikolai. I wonder if
Nikolai has bothered to give his family the truth about me. Do they know
that I’m only tethered to him for another nine days?
Nine days.
“Do you want something to drink?” Nikolai leans toward me with his
question. By the looks of the banquet tables, we’ve missed dinner.
“A glass of wine. Something sweet.”
“I’ll be back.” He releases his hold on me and disappears toward the
bar.
“Charlotte, have you met Ivan?” Igor steps closer to me, and gestures
toward the man he’s been speaking with in Russian.
“No.” I smile at this new man, though something about him seems off.
His gaze follows the room before he looks at me.
“Ivan, this is Charlotte. Nikolai’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, no.” I start to object to the term, but Ivan’s already stepping in my
direction. “We aren’t, I mean, it’s not serious.”
“If Nikolai brought you to my daughter’s birthday party where all his
friends and family are, then it’s serious enough,” Ivan says as he embraces
me with a grin. His hands are cold against my bare arms.
“Oh, it’s your daughter?” I scan the room, but with all the people
milling around and the dance floor filled, I can’t tell who the birthday girl
is.
“She’s probably hiding with her friends somewhere. She doesn’t like all
the attention these parties bring,” he explains. “I’m so sorry. I see my
nephew has finally arrived. If you’ll excuse me.” He glances at Igor then
hurries off through the crowd.
Nikolai hands me a glass of wine. “Where’s Ivan running off to?” he
asks as he sips his drink, some sort of dark liquor.
 “Host duties.” Igor waves a hand and turns to Arman and starts talking
in Russian again.
Nikolai surveys the room and instantly the tension is back. His jaw
locks, his body goes rigid. I can almost feel the heat of his anger rolling
through him.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, turning to follow his gaze. Ivan is across the
ballroom talking with a young man. It’s an aggressive conversation. Every
step Ivan takes forward makes the man retreat a step until they reach the
entrance doors. Even I can see the redness of Ivan’s cheeks from where we
are. He yanks the door open and the young man shrugs and stalks out.
Nikolai’s eyes are glued to the same scene. I link my hand into his and
squeeze.
“Nikolai.”
A moment later, he blinks and it’s like a spell has been broken. “It’s
nothing,” he answers.
“It’s not nothing,” I argue.
His jaw tightens more. “Everything’s fine.” He squeezes my hand back.
“I need to make a phone call. Stay here with my father and brother. Don’t
wander off.” He kisses my temple then once again leaves me with his
family.
“I missed him.” Alina snaps her fingers, drawing my attention to her
sudden presence. She’s eyeing Nikolai’s back as he leaves the ballroom, but
she doesn’t look all that broken up about not having been able to speak to
him.
“Hi, Alina.” I take a sip of wine. Without Nikolai here, she isn’t forcing
the plastic smile onto her lips.
She looks me over with a raised brow. “That dress does look really good
on you.” It’s not a compliment though, at least not the way she says it. I get
the feeling she’d rather see it lit on fire while I’m wearing it.
Her eyes wander upward, and she catches a glimpse of the necklace.
“Where did you get that?” Her tone fills with venom.
I touch the linked diamonds around my neck. “This? Nikolai gave it to
me. I know it’s too much, but he wouldn’t listen.” And now, I really wish I
had pushed the issue and kept it off.
Her nostrils flare a little and her lips pinch together like she’s been
sucking on a lemon for the past half hour.
 “Alina, is your brother here?” Arman steps up behind her, his hand
settling on her hip. She leans back into him and pushes on the smile I’m
familiar with from her. This woman doesn’t like me. Maybe if she knew the
truth of my relationship with Nikolai, she’d put her claws away.
“Arman. I thought I heard your voice earlier, but I didn’t see you.” Her
voice hits a higher pitch. “No, he couldn’t make it. He’s working.” She
glances back at me. “Did you see what Nikolai gave Charlotte?”
Arman’s dark gaze roams over me, then settles on the necklace. Unlike
Alina, his reaction is better masked.
“It looks good on you,” he says politely to me. His voice is perfectly
shielded from any touch of emotion. Does he hate that I’m wearing it or
does he not care? And what is the deal with the necklace?
I touch it again. “Can I ask, is it familiar to you in some way?” I glance
at Alina. “Is it not new?” What if this is the little marker Nikolai puts on all
his captive women? A small sign to others around me that I’m his and to
stay away?
Arman drops his hand from Alina’s hip. “It was our mother’s.”
“What?” I whisper my shock. Why the fucking hell did he give me his
mother’s necklace to wear tonight?
“She passed away a long time ago,” Arman says when he sees my
panic. “It’s his to give, Charlotte. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
My face must be as red as Alina’s lipstick.
“Have you and Nikolai been together long?” Alina asks, her eyes
narrowed on the necklace still.
“I…” Words pile up in my brain. How do I answer her without making
myself sound like I’ve sold myself to him? Even though, well, I sold myself
to him.
“Long enough,” Arman answers for me and grabs hold of Alina’s arm,
spinning her around to his side. He slips his arm around her waist. “Let’s
get some dessert.” He leads her away from me, but it’s too late. Suddenly,
the diamonds weigh too much, they’re choking my throat.
“What are you doing?” Nikolai’s dark voice sends a shudder down my
spine when he returns to find me fumbling with the clasp behind my neck.
He brushes my hands away.
“I… you shouldn’t have given this to me to wear,” I say to him as
quietly as I can. His family is all around us, and I’m not sure who is friend
and who is not of the remaining guests.
 His eyelids narrow. “It’s just a necklace, Charlotte.”
My chest aches. Which sends my mind into a whirlwind of confusion. I
mean, that was the right answer. Right? It’s just a necklace. No hidden
meaning. No intent is behind it. Just a damn necklace.
I drop my hands and smooth out the skirt of my dress. “Did you make
your calls?”
“I did.”
“Do you need to find Ivan’s daughter so you can wish her a happy
birthday?”
“No. I don’t,” he says, his voice clipped.
“Did you bring a gift? We should have brought a gift,” I ask, unable to
fully meet his dark eyes.
“I took care of it.”
I nod. Of course he did.
A loud cheer rises up from the front of the room and the group bursts
into a Russian song.
“It’s our version of happy birthday.” Nikolai explains. “They’ll sing
then cut the cake.” He picks up my wine, which I’ve put on the table when I
tried to remove the necklace, and downs the rest of it. “Let’s go home.”
“But we’ve barely been here, Nikolai. Shouldn’t you spend time with
your brother and father? Or Ivan? He seemed to want to visit with you.”
At the mention of Ivan, his body jolts. “I don’t want to be with them.”
He looks me over, hunger forefront in his gaze. “And what I’m going to do
to you, you aren’t going to want to be with them either.”
Before I can argue, or even fully understand his meaning, he grips my
hand and leads me from the ballroom.
Charlie

NIKOLAI WASTES no time once we’re alone in his bedroom. He kicks the
door shut and shucks out of his suit jacket. I back up from him, uncertain of
his intentions. He’s a man on a mission, and I’m pretty sure I’m the
mission.
“Take off your shoes, Charlotte,” he orders while loosening his tie and
ripping it over his head.
I kick off the heels; relief immediately floods my feet. I’m not cut out
for heels. I’m more of a flats and gym shoe kind of gal.
“The dress. Take it off.” His shirt is gone, and now he’s working on his
belt.
“Maybe take a minute.” I reach behind to unzip the dress.
“I don’t need a minute, Charlotte. What I need is for you to listen to me.
Take off the dress so I don’t have to rip it off you.” He steps toward me,
completely nude. His cock, thick and heavy, hangs against his thigh.
I manage to get the zipper down and shove the dress down over my
hips. I should hang it up, but he’s already on me, running his hands up and
down my bare arms. Looking into his eyes, I can see the tension, the desire
burning hot, and if this were a month ago, I’d be shaking with terror. But
this is Nikolai, and no matter how rough he makes this, he’s not going to
hurt me.
“Open the top drawer of your nightstand and get the small bottle of
lubricant. Bring it to me.” He turns me halfway and smacks my ass hard. I
jump forward a step.
 “Why?”
“Because.” It’s the only answer I’m going to get. When he’s like this,
dark and fierce, he won’t give me an inch. It’s in these moments I think I
like him best. I push him and he won’t fall over. He won’t crumble, no
matter how hard I shove. He’s like an immovable wall that I can lean on
and never worry that I’ll be dropped.
I retrieve the small bottle of lubricant and bring it back to him.
“I’m going to fuck your ass tonight, Charlotte,” he informs me as
though he just told me he’s making steak for dinner.
My eyes widen and my mouth dries.
“You’re going to be a very, very good girl for me and let me make it
good for you. Because if you don’t…” He works the plastic seal over the
bottle off. “If you don’t, you’re going to be a very sorry girl.”
I swallow hard, my eyes fixated on his fingers working the cap open on
the lubricant.
He lifts his eyes to mine.
Tingles zip down my spine.
“Am I clear?”
I nod. “Yes, Nikolai. I understand.”
The left side of his mouth hitches up. “Good, now get on the bed, ass in
the air. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet before I shove my cock in
you.”
I realize I’m still wearing the necklace and I reach back to take it off,
but his glare cuts my actions off.
“Leave it on.”
Climbing onto the bed, I don’t even try to be graceful. At this point
between us, he’s aware I have no grace. I am what I am. And he’s never
tried to change that.
“On your hands and knees like a good girl and reach back to spread
your ass cheeks apart.” He squeezes the bottle until a bead of the lubricant
appears and he wipes it onto the tip of his middle finger. My body clenches,
but worse, my sex aches.
Once I’m in position, I glance over my shoulder at him to find him
waiting for my further compliance. His expression is controlled.
I have to balance myself with one hand, so I don’t fall on my face, so I
can only use one to pull my ass open for him. The entire act makes my face
hot. I can only imagine how silly I must look.
 “Good girl.” His words wrap around me like silk. The next moment, his
finger rubs against my puckered asshole. I tense, clamping all my muscles
down as he rubs the lubricant over my asshole.
“Soften your muscles, Charlotte,” he orders in the same smooth voice.
“The harder you fight me, the more this will hurt, and I don’t want it to hurt
any more than it has to.”
“It has to hurt?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He waits until I bring my eyes to meet his. “It does.” He nods. “But just
enough, not more than you can take.”
Who talks this way?
I turn forward again, not sure I can handle watching his expression as he
touches me. He’s going to hurt me. He wants to hurt me. A huge red flag
should be falling from the ceiling and making me run from the room.
Except.
I want him to hurt me, too.
Just enough.
Not more than I can stand.
And I trust him to bring me to that edge without pushing me over.
It takes all my concentration, but I finally relax my body enough that
he’s able to push his middle finger past my tight ring up to his knuckle.
“Such a good girl.” He slides his finger in and out, rubbing the lubricant
everywhere he can reach to make this bearable. I lower my head, taking in
the sensations. His finger stretches me, but it’s only uncomfortable. Nothing
like it’s going to be when he uses his dick.
The cap snaps back on the bottle of lube and he tosses it near my hand.
“Keep that handy in case we need more.”
I nod, because how do you have a conversation with someone who has
his finger embedded in your asshole?
“Does this embarrass you, Charlotte? My finger being shoved up your
ass?” The man’s ability to read my mind disturbs me.
“It’s weird.”
A hard slap crosses my ass cheeks, which makes me clench, which
makes his finger more uncomfortable.
“Liar. Answer again.”
I suck in a slow breath. “It does a little, yes.”
Slowly he drags his finger out, then climbs on the bed behind me.
 “Let go of your ass. Play with your clit like you did in the bathtub,” he
directs me, as he kneels behind me, his cock pressing against my ass
cheeks.
I swallow back my refusal. It’s just fear making me hesitate and being
afraid isn’t a reason to disobey him. Especially when I know I’m in safe
hands.
My clit is already slick with my arousal.
“Fuck, you’re pretty like this,” he says, reaching between my legs and
finding my hand exactly where he wanted it. Laying his hand over mine, he
begins to rub my clit in unison with me. His body is warm against my skin,
making me acutely aware of his presence.
“Keep it just like this, don’t slow down. Understand?” He kisses my
shoulder.
“I understand,” I whisper.
He kisses my shoulder again, then drags his tongue along my back until
he’s at my ass. Sharp teeth bite into my cheek and I move one knee forward.
“No, stay where you are.” He smacks my ass again and bites down harder.
I groan but stay put. The pain radiates through my ass and up my back,
making my clit tingle even more beneath my fingers as I continue to rub
myself in a circular motion.
He grunts, then all touch is gone.
It’s only a moment, before he’s behind me again, both of his hands
pulling my ass cheeks apart. I clench my eyes closed, not wanting to picture
what he’s looking at.
“Is there any part of you I don’t find beautiful?” he asks, but it’s low,
beneath his breath like he’s talking to himself.
The thick round head of his cock touches the tight ring of muscle and I
squeak. It’s not a sexy sound, but his deep chuckle is.
“You’ll be fine, Charlotte.” He rubs the head up and down and then he’s
fully positioned. “Cry out if you need to.”
It’s the only warning.
The next second fire erupts, spreading up my body as he thrusts forward
in one fluid movement until he’s completely seated inside of me. And I
scream. My throat burns from it, but not as much as the heat in my asshole
as it stretches around this thick shaft. The invasion has wiped my mind of
coherent thought.
 “Don’t stop rubbing your clit,” he says, through what sounds like gritted
teeth.
Tears stream down my face and I have to swallow before I can breathe
again. I haven’t stopped touching myself, and this pain he’s given me drives
me forward faster than I would have guessed.
He drags his cock back until he’s almost completely out and then pushes
forward even harder.
I cry out, stumbling forward as my arm gives out and I lean on my
forearm. He’s not done though, and I think he was being gentle. Because
now, now, he’s pounding my ass harder and faster. The burn spreads, the
stretch is almost unbearable, but my clit is swollen. My thighs shake. The
bubble of pleasure grows larger and larger.
“You have no idea how fucking beautiful it is to see your asshole suck
up my cock.”
His words stroke my libido and I clench my teeth, trying to control my
sounds. But he won’t have it.
“Don’t you dare steal your screams from me.” He thrusts harder and
slaps my hip.
I don’t hold back anymore. I can’t anyway, it’s all become too much.
My clit swells beneath my fingers and the dam is going to burst. There’s no
stopping it now. Pain blends into the sweetness and I can’t separate the
sensations.
His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls my body back at him while he
plows forward.
“Nikolai!” I scream, my orgasm chasing me down.
“Come for me, Charlotte,” he orders and fucks my ass faster and faster.
The bed squeaks, the headboard bangs against the wall. But it’s all drowned
out by my scream when the waves of arousal engulf me in my release.
Faster and faster, I rub my clit, draining every last bit of my orgasm
from my body while he continues to pummel my ass.
I’m barely able to breathe, to contemplate what’s happened as the
intensity begins to fade, when he grunts and thrusts harder. I cry out again,
my second arm coming forward to brace myself on the mattress.
“Fuck!” He groans my name and stills as his cock spills his hot seed
into my ass. His fingertips are going to leave bruises on my hips, he’s
gripping me so tightly. Moments later, he eases his hands off of me and
slowly drags his cock from my body. His cum spills from me, pouring down
my thighs as I push them together.
I feel empty. And used. And relaxed. And completely sated.
He steps off the bed and leaves me while he goes into the bathroom and
returns with a wet towel. I’m still on my knees when the bed dips beneath
his weight when he sits next to me. The warm towel eases some of the
discomfort as he cleans me. Once he’s done, he helps me to climb under the
blankets and sits next to me again.
Silently, he drags his thumbs across my cheeks to wipe away the tears.
“So pretty.”
He’s wearing only his boxers.
“Are you coming to bed now?” I ask.
“No. I have to make more calls and deal with something.” He leans
forward and kisses me. It’s warm and full of softness that a moment ago, I
wouldn’t have thought possible from him.
“Maybe I can help,” I say. “With whatever is going on, maybe I can
help you.”
His mouth kicks up to the side. “Do you ever stop worrying about
everyone else around you?”
I blink. “I don’t mean to pry—”
“No. It’s good that you care about people, Charlotte. You care about
your brother to a fault. You care about your father’s dreams even though
he’s not here to witness them. And now you want to fix my problems.” He
shakes his head and kisses my forehead. “Sleep. You’re going to be sore in
the morning, so take it easy.”
He doesn’t look willing to continue the conversation, so I nod my
agreement and sink lower beneath the covers. I’m already sore, but it’s a
sweet pain that hums through my body.
On his way out, he makes sure my phone is plugged into the nightstand
beside me then turns the lights out.
After the soft click of the door shutting, I finally let out a long breath.
Nine more days, then my life goes back to normal.
Another ache begins, but this time it’s in my chest and I don’t know
how to ease it.
Nikolai

“ARE YOU SURE YOU SAW HIM?” Boris follows behind me a few
steps.
It’s late afternoon, and the sun beats down hard on New York today.
“I know what I saw.” And my chest is still heavy with anger. Never
would I have thought betrayal to come from so close.
“Have you talked to your dad yet?” Boris hurries up the steps of the
warehouse behind me. Yogi is already inside, keeping the bastard company.
“No. I want to hear what he has to say first. Then I’ll talk to him.” I cut
down the path toward the offices in the back. I’m not making a move on the
son of a bitch until I get the okay from my father, so we don’t need the
downstairs rooms.
Yet.
I throw open the door to the office. Yosif sits at the desk drinking a beer
with Yogi standing off to the side with a wide grin on his face. Yosif is
comfortable, relaxed, and I’m sure I’ve just walked in on a friendly
conversation.
Which would make sense since Yosif has been a welcomed member to
my family since he was born. He has no reason to suspect that I would draw
my gun on him and put a bullet between his eyes right where he sits.
“Nikolai!” He stands up from the seat with both arms extended for an
embrace. I ignore the gesture and walk to the corner of the office.
“Yosif.” I lean my shoulder against the wall. Boris shuts the door.
 Yosif drops his arms and looks at Boris and Yogi. The color slowly
creeps from his cheeks. “What’s wrong, Nikolai? I haven’t seen you in a
long time.”
I nod. “It’s been a while, Yosif,” I agree. “But I did see you, last night at
Anya’s birthday party.”
His gaze flickers between us. “I was there for only a minute to wish my
cousin a happy birthday.”
“Ah.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Had work last night?”
His throat constricts as he swallows. “I had some stuff to do. You know
how it is.” He smiles and laughs a little. A nervous chuckle.
“I didn’t see your mother there.” She’s Ivan’s sister; she should have
been at the party.
“She’s been sick.” Yosif stands straighter, his expression hardens.
“Stage four cancer. Her lungs.”
I hadn’t heard. But Ivan doesn’t keep us apprised of his extended
family.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Your uncle didn’t mention.”
“No.” His fingers curl. “He doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“I’m sure.” My mother’s battle with her illness before she passed away
was difficult for my father to watch. He rarely spoke of it to anyone outside
our family. At the time I thought him a coldhearted son of a bitch who
didn’t love my mother. I was angry at him for so long, for not being the man
she deserved. Until I found him in his office one morning, sobbing openly
while clutching her photograph to his chest. He didn’t know I was there,
and I’ve never mentioned it to him.
I wonder if it’s the same for Ivan. To love his family so deeply but too
bound by pride to let others see it.
“Treatments are expensive,” I comment.
“They are,” he nods. “But we’re managing.”
“How’s that?” I ask, pushing off the wall. “Is Ivan helping?” Ivan can
afford it, but he’s not known for his generosity with his family. Not like my
father.
“He’s done what he can.”
I step toward him. “But not much?”
“He’s done what he can,” he repeats. He looks at Yogi. “Why am I here?
Yogi said you wanted to see me, made it sound like a social visit. But I’m
not getting that vibe.”
 “No?” I push my jacket out of the way and hook my hands on my hips.
His attention swings to the gun strapped to my hip.
“What’s going on?” He sinks back into the chair. He could try to run out
of the office, but he’d have to get past me, Yogi, and Boris. Chances are
damn near zero.
“How’d you get the product, Yosif?” I ask, done fucking around.
Charlotte is home alone on a Saturday afternoon, and I’d rather be taking
her to the pool on the roof of the building she doesn’t know about yet than
dealing with this bullshit. But betrayal can’t go ignored.
What little color that’s left drains from his face and he swallows hard.
“Don’t fucking lie, either. Just fucking tell me. Where’d you get the
product, and how have you been doing this?” I keep my voice level, but if
he lies things are going to get loud in here.
He stares at me hard. It’s so quiet, I can almost hear his brain rifling
through ideas of how to get out of this.
“Ivan?” I jump to the biggest worry I have.
His eyes beg me not to make him say it.
“Ivan has someone on one of our distribution crews?” It’s going to be
like pulling teeth, getting him to betray his uncle.
“I needed the money, Nikolai. The medicines are so expensive. And the
insurance… she has no papers, Nikolai. She couldn’t get papers to get
insurance.” He rushes out his reasons for betraying my family.
“Ivan hooked you up with someone that works for us?” I press forward.
He blows out a hard breath and closes his eyes. “He… he hooked me up
with someone. I meet him once a month and take whatever he gives me,
then I go sell it to dealers. Ivan… shit!” He leans his head back and takes
another breath. “My uncle set it up, but he didn’t… I mean… he didn’t take
any cut for it, Nikolai.”
“No. Because he’s probably getting a cut from the guy he hooked you
up with. You’re family, Yosif, and he feels for your situation. It’s his sister
after all.” I’m no longer concerned that Ivan’s love of his family gets in the
way of his emotions. The fucker doesn’t have any.
“Who’s the guy, Yosif?” Boris asks quietly. “We need the name.”
Yosif rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “She’s my mother,” he
whispers. The agony in his voice is the only thing that saves him. He’s
young, his father ran off when Yosif was still a toddler. His mother is all he
has, except for Ivan—and he’s done nothing but make his problems a hell
of a lot worse.
“I know,” I say. “But I need a name, Yosif. That’s how you survive this.
You give me the name.”
He looks up at me, eyes red and tears still clinging to the edge of his
eyelids. “Ivan will kill me, if you don’t.”
“Your uncle isn’t a problem. You don’t tell him we talked, and I won’t
tell him we talked.” I need to get to my father first, explain everything that’s
happened. And somehow tell him that his best friend, his closest friend that
he’s seen as a brother for most of his life has been betraying us all.
“The guy’s name is Scott Vesler,” he says and leans forward, cradling
his head in his hands.
“How long, Yosif? How long have you been stealing from my family?”
I ask.
“Three months.”
I nod.
“But Ivan’s been doing this for years,” he offers.
My blood runs hot. It’s not just Scott Vesler I want to get my hands on. I
want to know how nobody saw this happening. How the fuck did Ivan get
away with skimming product for years without anyone seeing it?
“Okay.” I walk over to him and put my hand on his head. “Okay.
Remember, you don’t talk to your uncle. You don’t do anything until you
hear from me, understand?”
He looks up at me. “Yes. I get it, Nikolai. I promise.” As if that’s good
for anything anymore.
“Yogi will take you home. Is your mother staying with you?”
He nods. “Yeah. We have a home nurse there now; she takes care of
her.”
I look at Yogi. “Make sure the nurse is paid for the next month, then get
the payments taken care of. Have the bills sent to me. Get it all squared
away.”
Yosif makes a sound, like he’s about to sob, but he gets it together.
“Nikolai. I can’t thank you enough. I can’t… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so
sorry.” He grabs hold of my hand, but I pull it away.
“If you had just come to us, Yosif. If you had spoken to my father or my
brothers this would have been handled. But you didn’t.”
His lip trembles.
 “Take care of your mother. Once she passes, you leave. You don’t stay
in New York. You don’t hide in Boston either. You go where I won’t know
where you are. I won’t look for you, but you better stay where I can’t see
you.”
He nods, his expression broken. I’ve just cut him off, and he will find
no quarter with any Romanov. He’s completely on his own now.
“And if you tell your uncle we’ve spoken, there won’t be a place you
can hide. Understand?”
His head pumps up and down double speed. “I won’t say a word. Not
one fucking word.”
I stare at him for a long moment.
“Take him home,” I say to Yogi then gesture for Boris to follow me.
As we’re walking out of the warehouse my phone dings. A message
from Charlotte. One of her workers is out sick; she’s going into the deli for
the afternoon.
And my mood darkens even further.
Charlie

A CHRISTENING. Nikolai has brought me to a family christening. This

entire situation has to stop. He can’t keep taking me around his family.
They are asking questions I can’t answer. Arman looks at me with concern,
like he’s not sure if he should say something to me or to Nikolai.
“Gregor,” Arman calls out as the father of the baby walks past us as we
stand outside on the terrace of the banquet hall that’s been rented out. There
are so many people in attendance, I would have thought we were at a
wedding reception. And the outfits. Everyone is dressed to impress, and I’m
again grateful that Nikolai bought dresses for me.
Gregor steps over to us with a wide grin. He’s older than Roman; specks
of silver touch his hairline at his temples.
“I was looking for you at the church.” Gregor shakes hands and hugs his
cousins. From what Nikolai has told me, Gregor is their cousin, but they are
close as brothers.
“How could you find anyone in there? So many people,” Arman
complains. “The Kaczmareks took up more than half the church. Did they
think they needed a large army today?”
“Don’t start shit,” Gregor warns. “Hanna has enough stress from not
sleeping enough and having to deal with her brothers bothering her about
coming to visit. She doesn’t need a brawl between our families today.”
“What brawl? I’m just saying,” Arman shrugs. “If they’re scared of us,
they should just say.”
 Gregor shakes his head. “Uncle Igor, keep this one away from Hanna’s
family, okay?”
Igor gives Arman a stern look. “He won’t be a problem. Where is
Hanna and the baby?”
“She’s in the bathroom changing Julianna out of the christening gown
with Billie,” Gregor answers.
Roman, who’s been typing away on his phone, looks up. “Billie’s
here?”
Gregor nods. “Yeah.” He scans the open doors and points. “There they
are.” He waves for whoever is inside to come out.
“Who’s the guy?” Roman asks with a huff.
I see who I assume is Hanna walking toward us with a baby in her arms,
followed by another woman and a tall blond man who looks like a straw of
hay compared to all of these Russians standing around me.
“That’s Billie’s boyfriend,” Gregor says.
“Boyfriend.” Roman says the word like he’s tasted dog shit.
“Hi,” Hanna smiles. “I’m so glad you all came.”
“Of course we did,” Igor says, pushing his way forward to get a look at
the baby. “I’m glad you decided to come to New York for the ceremony,”
he says, brushing his fingers along the forehead of the sleeping baby.
“You can thank Christian for that,” Gregor says. “He’s around here
somewhere.”
“I spoke to him already. He’s with Amelia chasing their daughter
around the dessert table,” he grins. I think Igor has a soft spot for kids. It’s
strange, seeing him in this light. I know there’s violence in this man. In
Nikolai too, but when they’re together like this, enjoying each other’s
company, it’s easy to forget what happens when they’re ‘at work.’
“Who’s this?” Hanna asks, looking at me. I try to step back, hide behind
Nikolai, but his brothers have shifted to the side to put me in the spotlight.
“This is Charlotte,” Nikolai says, gently pushing me forward with his
hand on my back.
Hanna’s eyes go wide for a brief moment and Gregor laughs. My cheeks
heat and I try to step back. Obviously, I’ve done something wrong.
“It’s not you,” Hanna quickly says and gives him a frown. “You’re
making her uncomfortable. Stop.”
Gregor raises his eyebrow. Do they all do that?
 “I knew Hanna as Charlotte when I first met her.” Billie, the other
woman, speaks up. “But that was a long time ago.” Her gaze moves to
Roman but quickly flitters back to me. Roman, I can’t help but notice, has a
darkness to his expression. If a thunderstorm could be expressed on
someone’s face, that’s how Roman looks right now. Like he’s about to blow.
“Not so long ago,” Roman states flatly. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
Billie’s cheeks tint pink and she presses herself further back. “I
wouldn’t miss it.” She raises her chin. “It’s good to see you.” There’s a
forced pleasantness here between them that erases the embarrassment I held
a moment ago.
“I’m going to get a drink, Isobel,” the blond man, probably tired of
being ignored, pipes up just before turning on his heel and stalking away.
“Isobel?” Roman asks, his expression growing even darker.
Nikolai slides his arm around my waist and pulls me back toward him.
“Let’s get out of the line of fire,” he says casually.
“That’s my name.” Billie raises her chin. “My full name, I mean.”
Roman’s lips twitch, like he has a lot to say, but fights it back.
“I like Billie,” Igor decides. “I’m going to keep calling you that.”
Billie laughs. “That’s fine. Brian likes using my full name. He says
Billie sounds too little girlish.”
Roman mutters something in Russian under his breath.
My phone buzzes in my purse, but I try to ignore it. I don’t want to be
rude, but as soon as it stops, it starts again.
I open my purse and pull out the phone. It’s Joey.
“I have to take this, sorry,” I say, stepping away from the group.
Nikolai’s eyes narrow and he follows me the dozen steps away as I answer
the call.
“Hey, Joey. I’m at a party—”
“Charlie! Shit, Charlie! It’s on fire!”
My heart stops. Dead.
“What?” I cover my other ear. The background noise has to have
messed up what he said.
“The deli is on fire, Charlie,” he yells, sirens blaring behind him.
“Okay. Okay.” I press my hand to my chest. My heart’s started again,
but now it’s banging against my ribs. “Is everyone okay?”
“You gotta come down here,” Joey yells. “Mark! Shit! Mark! He was in
the bathroom!” The call dies.
 “I have to go.” I run for the doors.
Nikolai is right behind me. “What’s wrong?” he asks while trying to
keep up with me as I run through the banquet hall and down the long spiral
stairs to get to the main floor.
“My deli’s on fire!” I yell as I push through the doors and run full speed
to the car.

POLICE BARRICADES BLOCK off the surrounding area when we arrive.

Fire trucks are lined up on the street and two ambulances are already on the
scene. Dark gray smoke billows from the fire, not fully out yet, and it’s
consumed the storefronts on both sides of the deli.
As soon as Nikolai stops the car, I jump out. He’s yelling at me, but I’ll
deal with him later.
“That’s my store!” I yell as a police officer tries to keep me among the
crowd that’s built.
He shakes his head.
“Let me through!”
“Let her through.” Nikolai is right behind me, his voice clear and
focused. The cop looks at him then nods.
“Be careful and don’t get any closer than the trucks.” He pulls the
caution horse out of the way and lets me in.
Nikolai grabs my hand. “Slow down.”
“Joey said Mark was in there.” I try to yank my hand from him, but he
tightens his grip.
“You running in there in a panic isn’t going to help. And it’s only going
to get you hurt.”
He makes sense, I know he does, but then I see Joey and Silvia huddled
together. “Joey!” I scream and break loose from Nikolai.
“Charlie!” Silvia reaches me first. “Oh, my god, Charlie. It’s gone. The
whole thing,” she cries, tears running down her face, leaving clean tracks
through the soot that’s smeared across her cheeks.
“Where’s Mark? You said Mark was inside?” I search frantically, but I
don’t see any sign of him.
 “He was in the bathroom,” Joey says. “The place, Charlie, I don’t get it.
It just erupted in smoke and then there were flames coming out of the
back.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Where is Mark?” I ask again; the details aren’t registering. I just need
to know Mark is all right.
“They took him in the first ambulance,” Silvia answers. “They found
him passed out on the floor in there. But he came to when they brought him
out and gave him oxygen. He’s going to be okay.” She doesn’t look
convinced of her own words though.
“Customers? Were any customers hurt?”
“No. We had a slow afternoon, the last guy just left when it happened,”
Joey said.
Breathing becomes a little easier now that I know everyone has gotten
out. Mark is stubborn, he’ll be okay. At least that’s what I’m going to keep
telling myself until I can get to the hospital to verify with my own eyes.
“You the owner?” one of the firefighters asks me.
“Yes,” I nod, still watching my father’s dream crumble in front of me.
He and Mom put so much of their heart into this place. I grew up in there.
And it’s gone. Just… gone.
“We have it under control now. The fire spread to the other storefronts,
but we got those out pretty quick. They’ll have some cosmetic damage.
Your shop though,” he frowns. “It’s a complete loss.”
Complete loss. The words don’t make sense. This can’t be real.
“Do you know what started the fire?” Nikolai asks, and it takes me a
minute to register his voice.
“Once we have it all out and we can get in there, we’ll know for sure.”
He looks at me, pity in his eyes, then back to Nikolai. “But from what I saw
in there, the patterns of the burns and the heat level suggest the fire was
set.”
“You mean someone burned it down?” I ask.
He swings his eyes back to me. “We won’t know for certain until we
can get in there and safely do an investigation.”
I take a step closer to the building, but Nikolai grabs my elbow and
pulls me back.
“Stay back here.”
Shattered glass litters the sidewalk. The sign my father hung himself in
front of the shop lies cracked on the ground, blackened on the edges from
where the flames licked it.
My breath won’t catch, and my heart won’t stop pounding.
“This isn’t happening.” I put my hands to my head. Maybe I can block it
all out. “My apartment. All of my things. The deli. It’s all gone!”
Nikolai grabs me, pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. I
don’t know what to do. I don’t have a plan for this. I have no idea how to
make this better.
So, I don’t do anything. I grab onto Nikolai’s shirt and just melt into
him. He kisses the top of my head and whispers to me. He’s talking in
Russian. I can’t understand him, but I think he’s trying to soothe me.
I sink into his embrace.
It’s all gone.
I have nothing.

“I’M LOOKING FOR MARK JOHANSEN.” I rush straight to the desk

when I arrive at the hospital. “He was brought in from a fire; he should be
here in the emergency room.”
“Okay, one moment.” The receptionist’s fingers fly across the keyboard.
“Here he is. But he’s not in the ER. They’ve taken him up to the ICU.” She
takes a pad of paper and scribbles on it before giving it to me. “Room five
thirty-three. Take these elevators to the fifth floor then make a right, you’ll
have to go down a long hallway then turn to the right to get to the ICU.
There’re signs.”
I grab the paper and turn for the elevators, bumping straight into
Nikolai’s chest.
“Slow down, you’re going to get yourself hurt and then end up here
too.” He slides his hand down my arm and laces his fingers through mine.
“If he’s in the ICU that has to mean he’s not in immediate danger. Let’s go
see him, but no more running.”
He’s talking slow, like I’m a small child in the middle of a temper
tantrum. I take a steady breath. I’m running on emotion, and that won’t get
me anywhere. I need to calm the hell down and think. Take one moment at
a time. Right now, I’m going to focus on Mark.
 It’s a long haul from the ER to the ICU, but we finally find the ward and
check with the desk. They bring me to Mark’s room and because the curtain
isn’t drawn, I see him from the hallway through windows. My breath
catches in my chest.
“He’s on a breathing tube.” I let go of Nikolai’s hand and hurry into the
room.
“He was having a hard time breathing on his own. The doctors don’t
think it will be needed for long, but they need to see what sort of damage
has been done to his lungs from the smoke. We have nothing on him on file,
do you know if he has a do not resuscitate order? Or family we can call?”
his nurse asks, as she enters his room right after us.
I’m staring down at my father’s oldest friend. The last link I have to my
parents. Besides the IV in his arm, there are wires coming out of the gown
from his chest. The breathing tube makes his chest rise and fall. His left
cheek has a large bruise.
“He probably got that when he fell,” the nurse explains when I reach
over to touch it.
I nod, then pull my hand back.
“Family?” the nurse prods.
“No.” I shake my head. “His wife died seven years ago. He didn’t have
children.” We were like his children. Me and Oliver. And now, he’s lying
here in this bed because he was in our family’s deli. My chest twists into an
unbearable knot.
“Do you know if he has insurance? We didn’t see anything in his
wallet.”
I flick away a lone tear and fold my arms over my chest. “He uses the
VA. He was an infantryman in Vietnam.” I feel like I need to say that. I
need her to understand he’s a tough man, and he’s not going to give up
without a fight. “I think he does have a living will. I can go to his apartment
and find it.”
“I’ll get that taken care of.” Nikolai digs out his phone. Putting it to his
ear, he steps into the hall. I watch him, giving orders, sending his men to
take care of this for me.
“Is he in a coma?” I ask.
“He’s been heavily sedated to make the intubation easier for him,” the
nurse explains. Her beeper dings and she pulls it from her pocket. “I’m
sorry, I have to deal with this. He’s going to be asleep for a long while. The
visiting hours end at seven.”
“She’ll be here as long as she needs.” Nikolai enters the room again.
The nurse doesn’t bother arguing with him. Smart woman.
With her gone, I drag the only chair in the room to Mark’s bedside and
sink into it. Lifting his hand into mine, I suck in a long breath.
“I’m so sorry, Mark,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”
Nikolai

MY FATHER WALKS into my condo with angry concern on his face.

Arman follows behind him, his stance ready for battle.
“How is she?” Dad demands.
“She’s asleep,” I answer. Exhaustion finally did what I wouldn’t and
forced her to bed. The last two days since the fire have kept her busy. Not
with action, there’s little she can do without the final report on the cause of
the fire but worry. She’s paced every room of the condo. She’s called every
member of her staff several times to be sure they were all right and assured
them she would be paying them their last check along with at least two
future payrolls. I managed to stop her from promising a third, but I know
she’s already trying to figure out how to keep them all on the payroll while
she figures out what to do.
The easy thing to do would have been to threaten her with my belt to get
her to bed, but that’s not what she needed. Stress energy needs to be burned
off, and me trying to take over that for her would have sent her into a spiral
of panic and anger.
“What did you find out?” Arman asks, sitting on the arm of the couch.
“The fire chief called me this morning. They’re ruling it arson.” That’s
not the worst of it, but I’ll get there.
“Who the fuck would want to burn down a deli?” Outrage twists
Arman’s face. He barely knows her, Dad barely knows her, but looking at
them now, I know they’d kill to protect her. Or to avenge her.
“I think I know.” I wipe my hand across my face. I haven’t had a chance
to talk with my father in the last few days. I’ve been completely focused on
Charlotte.
 “You’re not going to like this. Sit.” I point to the chair and the couch.
They both sink into them. “Where’s Roman?”
“Not here. Now go on.” Dad waves his hand; he doesn’t like waiting
any more than I do.
I explain everything about what I found out about Ivan. I tell him about
the years of taking our product and selling it as his own. I tell him about the
crew I found out he has working for us and for him. I tell him about Yosif. I
tell him everything.
By the time I’m finished ripping out his heart, he looks ready to break
my face. But I know his anger isn’t focused on me.
“Why did you wait to tell me?” he asks, his voice low.
“I had to be sure first. When I got the description from Percy it sounded
familiar, but I couldn’t really place it. But then I saw Yosif at the party. That
scar of his, the one that runs down his face and is all puckered. I hadn’t seen
him in so long, I’d forgotten about it.” He’s had the scar for so long, I
barely see it when I look at him.
“He confessed?” Arman asks.
I nod. “He did.”
“What did you do to him?” Dad asks.
“I left him alone. I took care of the medical expenses for his mother and
told him when she dies, he goes away. He agreed.”
Dad nods. “Yosif is an idiot who loves his mother.” He rubs his hand
along his jaw. “Have you talked with Ivan?”
“No. But I have a feeling he knows that I’m aware of what’s going on.
The fire, I think it’s a message.” I watch my father’s face carefully as I
make my accusation. When my father is angry, he doesn’t shout and dance
around with arms flailing. He lets it seep into his bones, but he stays
reserved, calculating.
“He could have hurt her,” he says flatly, his fingers curl into his knees.
“The old man, her friend, is he all right?”
“He’s still in the hospital, but they think he’ll pull through. They’re
going to take him off the breathing tube tomorrow.” Taking her to see Mark
after we were done with the fire department had made me want to find Ivan
and rip out his heart while it was still beating. She kept herself together,
because that’s what she does—she holds steady, stuffing her own feelings
aside so she can help someone else. But I could see the raw pain in her eyes
when she saw him lying in that ICU bed, wires everywhere along with
tubes and the breathing machine.
“Her employees?” Arman asks.
“All fine. The fire started in the back, and they were able to get out the
front. But the structure is gone.”
“Ivan wasn’t at the christening,” Dad remarks. “Gregor mentioned it,
said he had been expecting him.”
“Ivan wouldn’t have set the fire himself, but it doesn’t look great.”
“The crew Ivan’s been running through us, you know who they all are?”
Dad looks up at me, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Yeah. I just need your okay and I’ll have it handled.”
“One of them could be the ones that set the fire.”
“I’m going to find that out first,” I assure him. No one is walking away
from this shit, and it’s going to be a slow end, worse for the fucker that put
that match to the deli.
“I don’t think Yosif was dumb enough to talk to Ivan. We need to find
out how Ivan found out,” Arman adds.
“The only people who know we talked to Yosif are Yogi and Boris, and
I trust them with my life.”
“I trusted Ivan the same way,” Dad shoots at me.
“True, but they would have warned Yosif why I was having him brought
to me. Yosif had no idea. Odds are Ivan was having Yosif watched,
especially after the birthday party. He didn’t seem happy Yosif had shown
up. He pushed him out.”
Dad stares at me a long moment. “I’ll handle Ivan.” He gets up from the
chair. “Let me know when you handle the crew.”
“I will.” I look to Arman. “I could use your help with that.”
Arman nods as he gets to his feet. “Happy to help.”
As we walk out of the living room and into the foyer, Charlotte stands
in the hallway coming from the bedrooms. Her hair is mussed but pulled
back into a loose ponytail. Her eyes are swollen from lack of sleep.
“Ivan did this?” she asks in a low whisper filled with pain and anger.
Dad reacts first and steps to her. “He will pay for it. I promise you.”
Her lips press hard together, but all she does is nod.
Dad and Arman make their way out of the condo while I stay with
Charlotte.
 “I was hoping you’d sleep longer,” I say. “You haven’t slept well the
last two nights. Maybe I should call the doctor.”
“It’s because of you.” Her voice dips lower, almost unrecognizable.
“My father’s deli is gone, my apartment is gone, Mark could have died
because of you.”
“Charlotte, he won’t get away with it.”
“Get away with it?” She brings her hurting eyes up to meet mine. Her
body coils tight like a spring ready to launch at me. “He already has,
Nikolai. I’ve lost everything because of you.” She puts a hand up when I
step toward her. “No. Because of me.”
“Don’t—”
“It was my decision to sell myself to you. That was my call. To save my
brother, I’ve cost us everything.” She drops her hand and turns around. “I’m
taking a shower and then I’m going to the hospital to see Mark. Alone.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She whips around with her hands fisted at her sides. “Alone, Nikolai.
I’m going alone. And when I get back, I’m packing up my stuff.”
“Charlotte.” My body locks. “That’s not happening.”
“I think losing everything more than makes up for what my brother
owed you. It’s only another six days, anyway, right? I think having to start
my entire life from scratch should warrant forgiveness of six days.” Her
voice is like steel.
Six days? I hadn’t thought of how many days were left. I hadn’t thought
about the end date in weeks. She’s been counting them down, apparently.
Like a prisoner in jail.
“Where are you going to go?” Probably not the best action to remind
her she has nothing, but it pops out. She’s leaving, and I can’t let that
happen.
She stares at me a long moment. “That’s not your concern anymore.”
She turns on her heel and disappears down the hall. The soft click of the
bedroom door closing smacks me in the face.
Charlie

THERE’S A LIGHT BREEZE TODAY. For a moment it reminds me of

the day Nikolai took me to the Belvedere castle in the park, but I only allow
the memory to linger for a split second before I shove it away. I have work
to do. A lot of work.
The crew I’ve hired to help with the deli cleanup has been working for
an hour already. They’ve gotten most of the big stuff out, the seats, the
booths, the deli counter. Almost nothing is salvageable, the fire department
told me, because of the chemicals used to start the fire. Most of the things in
my apartment above the deli are too contaminated to keep.
Joey and Silvia are here helping sort through what has been deemed
salvageable. I’m grateful the two storefronts on either side of the deli have
only taken minimal damage. They should be able to be back in business
within a month.
I’m not sure when we’ll be able to reopen. The insurance company has
approved the claim, but the police need to complete their investigation.
Even if I got the check tomorrow, rebuilding will take time.
“Charlie, how about this? You want to add this to the cleanup pile?”
Silvia brings me a framed photograph that had hung above the deli counter.
I take it from her and wipe my gloved hand over the glass to see the photo
more clearly.
“This is how the strip looked when my parents first bought the place.
This used to be a dry cleaner.” I point at the storefront in the middle. “I
remember Dad complaining how much work they had to do. They had to
rip out all the washers and dryers. They had to redo the entire ceiling
because that rolling rack thing messed it all up.” I sigh. “Put it in the
cleanup pile.” I hand it back to her.
“You got it.” She takes it away.
“We found the fire safe.” Jared, the supervisor of the cleanup crew,
brings me good news. “It did its job. Looks perfect.”
“Oh, thank god.” I press my hand to my chest. Much of my mother’s
jewelry is stashed in there, as well as all my legal documents. I won’t have
to re-create my life on paper now. Such a relief.
I follow him to the back of the store where my bedroom would have
been on the second floor. Squatting down, I twist the knob to the
combination and open the safe. Everything is exactly as it was.
“It’s all here.” I grin up at him.
He nods. “Good to hear. I’ll have one of the guys put it on the truck out
back for you.”
I get back to my feet. “Thank you, Jared.”
He grins. “Not a problem.” He inclines his head. “Is there anything else
that we should really keep an eye out for? Something important?”
“I had boxes of old photos, but I doubt those survived.” I look around
the mess. Everything’s been tainted with black soot or ruined from the
water putting out the flames. I never trusted Oliver to keep the family
pictures because I was sure he’d ruin them or throw them out on accident,
and here I stand among the mess that has destroyed them.
“Well, we’ll keep looking,” he assures me then heads back into the
muck to keep cleaning up.
“Charlie.” Joey brings me another photograph. This one is of opening
day. My father and mother standing in front of the deli with me and Oliver.
We were so small, and my parents look so young, so ready to take on the
adventure before them.
I take the photo and touch my fingertips to it.
“A smile. Finally!” Joey laughs. “I’ll put it with the cleanup stuff.”
I look up at him. “Absolutely.” I hand it to him. “Thank you, Joey. By
the way. You and Silvia have gone above and beyond. I can’t thank you
guys enough.”
“Of course.” His smile falls a little. “I haven’t had a chance to get to the
hospital in the last couple of days, how’s Mark doing?”
“He’s doing better. They’re going to release him once his oxygen levels
stay consistent, but they think a few more days.” I’ve spent most of my
afternoons at the hospital. It helps keep my mind off Nikolai. Not that it
works. The moment I’m alone again, my mind drifts right to him. What’s he
doing? Does he even care that I’ve left?
I haven’t heard a word from him in two days. It’s been five since I
walked out on him. At first, I figured he finally took the hint. But Nikolai
Romanov doesn’t just give up on something he wants. So maybe I’m taking
the real hint. He never wanted me. I really was just the month-long
distraction he wanted me to be for him.
“You good?” Jared asks as he walks past me.
“Yeah,” I lie. He stops and watches me for a long moment.
“This is a lot for one person to deal with. Do you have someone helping
you? With all the other stuff beside the cleanup? You’ve lost a lot here, it’s
hard.”
Is he fishing to find out if I have a boyfriend?
“I’m good. I promise.” I force a smile. He doesn’t look like he buys it,
but he doesn’t push me.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, so I grab it. Every time it goes off,
I check it, afraid the hospital is going to call and tell me Mark’s taken a turn
for the worse. Losing him is going to be hard enough when it happens but
losing him because of my own stupidity of getting involved with a man like
Nikolai Romanov—I’m not sure I could ever forgive myself.
“Hello?”
“Charlie! Hey.” It’s Oliver.
“Oliver. Where are you?” I look around as though he’s going to step out
of the rubble any moment.
“I’m around. I only have a second though. Quick question for you.”
City noise overlaps his words.
“What? You cut out there for a second.” I cover my other ear and turn
away from the crew cleaning up around me.
“Did the insurance pay out yet?” he asks.
A shiver runs through me. “Insurance?” I haven’t gotten a hold of him
to tell him about the fire yet. I figured it would be easier to deal with it
without him.
“Yeah, for the deli. I read about the fire in the paper.”
He reads the paper? Since when?
“Oliver, I have a lot of work to do here. Everything’s been destroyed but
I’m trying to find whatever I can salvage.”
 “I’m not trying to take up your time, Charlie, just tell me did the
insurance pay out yet?”
“Why?”
“I need my cut, that’s all.”
“Your cut?” Ice runs through my veins. “What the hell do you mean,
your cut?”
“I had a stake in the deli.”
“I bought you out, Oliver.”
“You bought most of it out. I still have ten percent.”
“You want ten percent of the insurance money?” I have to be hearing
him wrong. He’s been hiding for a month while I’ve been trying to save his
ass. And now that I need him, now that I could really use the support and
help of my big brother, he’s looking for his cut.
“It is mine, right?”
“I’m using it to rebuild, Oliver. I need it all to rebuild the deli.” I think
I’m shouting; some of the crew has stopped working and they are looking at
me.
“So, rebuild with what’s left. The business had an estimated worth of
half a million dollars. You can spare ten percent. Or better, maybe we take
the money and invest it somewhere else. Somewhere we can double the
money.”
“Invest it.” My jaw aches from clenching it. “Oliver, I don’t have time
for this. We can talk about it later.” I hang up the call just as Jared comes
back over to me with more concern on his face.
“Maybe you should take a break. I was just about to get coffee from
down the street, join me?”
I stare at him. He’s hitting on me. My brother wants all the money from
the deli, my father’s dream is circling the drain, and I can’t get my heart to
stop hurting every time I think of Nikolai, and now Jared is asking me out
for coffee.
I laugh.
It’s the worst response, but it’s all I have in me.
“Sure, Jared. Let’s go get coffee.” I shove my phone into my back
pocket. “Joey, Silvia, you want coffee?”
Joey looks at me like he’s never seen me before.
“Sure, Charlie.” Silvia notices Jared standing beside me. “You want me
to come with?”
 “No, Jared’s going to take me.” I gesture with my thumb.
“Maybe see if Nikolai wants a cup?” she suggests. “In case he comes by
to help?”
I laugh harder. “He’s not coming, Silvia. He’s never coming back.” I
grab my purse from the only clean area of the mess and swing the strap over
my shoulder. “Okay, Jared. Lead the way.”
He flickers his gaze from me to Silvia, then back. “Uh, okay, sure.”
I’m sure he’s reconsidered any thoughts he had previously about
hooking up with me, but I still want coffee. Or maybe a bottle of wine.
There’s a liquor store close to the coffee shop.
I’ll figure it out when we get there.
Nikolai

SCOTT VESLER IS A STRONG MAN. I can see why he was put in

charge of the distribution line for the north part of the city. He’s not
Russian, but he joined our group when he was right out of high school. Had
nowhere to go, his mom was an addict who threw him out when he couldn’t
pay the rent and was old enough for her to legally get rid of him. Seems
strange he’d join us after such an ordeal. Maybe he feels ecstasy isn’t as bad
as the crack she was smoking. I don’t know. And I really don’t fucking care.
He’s the last of his crew. The rest have been taken care of, disposed of.
Their families won’t see shit for compensation either. You don’t betray the
Romanov family and get any sort of life insurance benefits for who you
leave behind.
“I didn’t have anything to do with the fire,” Scott yells into the empty
room. He sits in the ten square foot cement room alone. Other than the door,
there’s no openings. It’s as close to a box as you can get, and he’s been in it
alone. Out here, we can hear him just fine though.
“I swear, Nikolai! I didn’t touch that place! I didn’t go after her!” he
screams.
It’s been a long time since he’s seen any of us. He’s probably hungry.
I’m sure he’s thirsty, and if he hasn’t already pissed himself, I’m sure he
needs the bathroom.
“How does he even know we’re here and can hear him?” Boris asks.
“He’s been sitting in silence for the past day, dumbass. He probably
heard us walk up,” Viktor answers.
“Has he given us any information?” I ask.
 “None. He doesn’t deny working for Ivan and your father. Bastard’s
been double dipping for years. He owns that, but he says he had nothing to
do with the fire at Charlie’s place,” Viktor answers. He’s been down here
watching our little friend today. Since Charlotte left, he’s gone back to what
he used to call ‘fun’ duties.
“Charlie?” I raise an eyebrow.
“That’s her name,” Viktor says firmly.
“Her name is Charlotte.” I keep my tone bland. When it comes to her, I
want to push it all out of my mind. The weeks we spent together, the nights
we had. Everything is in the past. She’s suffered enough already from her
involvement with me, I won’t make it worse by coveting her memory too.
“To you, her name is Charlotte,” Viktor argues. “Because that’s your
name for her.” He goes back to looking away from me after making his
statement. There’s more in that statement though. Me calling her Charlotte,
that was for me; it was something I held that no one else did. And maybe
it’s best I don’t have to share it with anyone else.
“Do you believe him?” I point to the closed door. “Is there a possibility
Ivan used someone else?”
“I don’t know,” Boris sighs.
“Okay.” I reach for the door. It creaks as it opens, and Scott lifts his
head up. His hands are bound behind him, and he looks worked over pretty
well. He won’t get his vision back in his left eye—if he were going to live
past this meeting.
“Nikolai, I swear to god I had nothing to do with what happened to your
girl,” he starts.
I stop a few steps short of him. Fuck, he stinks, and the puddle on the
floor beneath him explains it. Guess he doesn’t need that bathroom
anymore.
“No? Ivan didn’t hire your crew to play messenger for him?”
He shakes his head. “He never mentioned her, or you. He never said a
word. If he knew you were on to him, he would have told me.” He licks his
dry lips that are cracking. How long can a man go without water before he
finally dies?
“And your excuse for betraying me? My family?” I ask, folding my
arms over my chest.
He laughs. It’s a sad huffing sound.
“Money, man.” He sniffs. “It’s always about money.”
 At least he’s honest.
“Ivan gave you a decent cut?”
Scott nods.
“Did it occur to you what my father would have rewarded you with if
you had come to us with information about Ivan’s disloyalty? Ivan isn’t
even a member of our family.”
“Ivan’s advised your father for years. You know that. When he came to
me, at first, I thought it was a trick. A test to see if I’d do it.”
“Obviously you failed.”
“No. I told him fuck, no.” He turns and spits to the cement. His talking
has made a cut inside his mouth start bleeding again.
“So, what changed?”
“He asked over and over again. Then he had the other guys already
lined up, he just wanted me to watch them.”
“He gave you your own crew.” I finish the thought. “If you had gone to
my father, he would have rewarded you with your own crew, with anything
you fucking wanted. Instead, you’ve betrayed us. You’ve stolen from us.”
He nods. “Yeah. I did. And for that you’ll kill me. I accept that. But I
did not set that fucking fire. I had nothing to do with that.”
I stare down at him, at the bruises and the cuts. His eyes are already
glassy.
“Okay.” I nod and leave the room, shutting the door quietly.
“You believe him?” Viktor asks, looking ready to get back in there and
have more fun.
“I do,” I nod. “He’s a traitor. He knows he’s going to die for what he’s
done, there’s no reason for him to lie about the fire.”
“If not him, then who?” Boris asks.
“We’ll find out, but he doesn’t know anything.” I shrug. It’s been a long
day. Fuck, it’s been a long week. The prospect of going home to my empty
condo, where I can still envision Charlotte lying in the bed beside me, is
about as inviting as a three-hour lecture on the history of outhouses.
“What should we do?” Boris asks as I turn around.
“How long has he been in there without water?” I ask, checking my
phone.
“Two days since we gave him anything,” Boris answers. “You want us
to feed him?”
 I laugh. “Fuck, no. I want you to leave him alone. Lock that door and let
him die.”
A message comes through my phone.
Found Oliver. He’s here at Mark’s place.
“I have to go.”
Charlie

MARK’S APARTMENT smells exactly as it did when I was little, like

peppermint potpourri. His wife used to keep it in crystal bowls in every
room. She said it was to keep the stench of Mark’s uniforms from invading
the small space, but I think she just liked the smell. She’s been gone seven
years and Mark still keeps a bowl of the stuff in each room.
Having finally gotten myself out of the shower, I wrap myself in a large
towel. The hot water was too good to pass up. I have no idea how long I
spent in there.
I dry off and get dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt then
head into the kitchen to find something to eat. The cleanup at the deli has
left my muscles sore. The ache in my chest though, that’s keeping me
dragging my feet even more.
“About time you got out of the shower,” Oliver laughs when I enter the
kitchen.
I jump when I see him sitting at the kitchen table with his feet propped
up on a second chair in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, while trying to chase down my
breath. “How did you even know I was here?”
“Well.” He drops his feet from the chair to the floor. “Your boyfriend
isn’t the only one who has connections in the city. I asked around, found out
you’re not staying with him anymore. You have no apartment now, so I
figured you’d be here.”
“Where have you been staying? When I couldn’t get a hold of you, I
tried your landlord; he said you haven’t lived there for a couple of months.”
I move across the kitchen and lean against the counter. “What’s going on
with you, Oliver? Please tell me so I can help.”
He’s aged years since I saw him last. And that was only months ago.
His hair is longer, shaggier, and a straggly beard covers his chin. He’s never
been a heavy guy, but he looks thinner. His eyes are distant, like they’re
looking at me but he can’t see me.
“I don’t need your help, Charlie. I need the money.”
I sigh. “I already told you I don’t have it yet.” I grab a glass out of the
upper cabinet and fill it with water from the sink. “Besides, I really need it
for the rebuild. If I give you the ten percent, you know that takes you out of
the ownership. You won’t have any more distributions or have any piece of
the deli.” Not that the distributions have been huge, but I’m certain it’s what
has kept him off the streets.
“I called the insurance company, and they said they made a deposit into
the business account today.”
“A deposit? They were going to send a check, but they had to get more
information from the police investigation.”
Oliver shrugs. “I don’t care what they said to you. Check the account.”
He points to my phone sitting on the counter.
“Why did you even call them?” I ask, putting the glass down and
grabbing my phone. “Do you even know the policy number?”
“I didn’t need it. I’m on the policy so they looked it up.” He always has
a way around the system. Someone is always there to help him.
I log into the bank account and see the money he’s talking about. Four
hundred thousand dollars.
“They told me specifically it would take ten business days to get a
check after they received the police report.” I scroll the translation list and
find the direct deposit. It’s from the insurance company.
“Now you have the money, so you can transfer thirty thousand to my
account,” he says and moves up to his feet.
“No, Oliver.” I shake my head. “If you want that money, we need to talk
to the lawyer. He needs to draft paperwork that states you’re selling out of
the company.”
“I don’t have time for all that shit!” His teeth clench as he practically
growls at me. “Just fucking transfer the money.”
Who is this man? I don’t even recognize him anymore. He’s never
yelled at me or sworn at me like this.
 “Oliver.” I take a breath. “Listen to me. If you want the money, fine, but
we have to do it the right way.”
“Did you not hear me? I don’t have time for all that.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Dread fills me. He’s in trouble again,
and from the sheer panic making his eyes wild like this, I know it’s
something I can’t fix, even with a check.
“Don’t look at me like that.” His hands curl into fists. “Don’t you dare
look at me with all that judgment in your fucking eyes.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m worried. I’m scared for you.” I put my phone
down and take a small step toward him. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“How dare you judge me.” His eyes narrow into thin slits and his
cheeks are red.
“Are you on something?” I ask, and immediately know it is exactly the
wrong thing to say. He rushes at me and shoves me into the counter.
“Fuck you, Charlie!” He shakes his fist in my face. “I’m not going to let
a whore like you judge me. Transfer the fucking money!” He reaches over
for the phone and slams it into my chest.
I’m stuck on his words, though.
Reluctantly, I take the phone from his grip. He’s not moving though.
“I can’t.” I know he hates me for it. But I have to protect him. I have to
protect myself. “Let me help a different way.”
His lips tremble with rage and for a moment I’m sure he’s going to
punch me.
“You can’t fuck your way out of this for me this time,” he mutters and
takes a step back.
“What?”
“You think I don’t know how you took care of the Romanov problem?
You fucking sold yourself.” He shakes his head. “You whored yourself out.”
Pain radiates through my chest.
“You should have just given me the money then.”
“I didn’t have it,” I whisper, as the hurt of his statement chokes me.
“You didn’t show up that day, Oliver. You left me to deal with it. I was
trying to save you. They would have hurt you, or worse for that kind of
money.”
“So, you jumped into bed with the man who would have killed me?” he
yells. “Nice, Charlie. You got in bed with a fucking animal.”
 Tears build in my eyes. Everything I did was to save him. At least at
first.
“Don’t talk about him like that,” I say, strength starting to come back to
me.
“What, the fucking Russian fucker? He’s a fucking sewer rat and you
were fucking him.”
“You need to leave.” I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. “I’m
not transferring the money. You’ll have to wait.”
“I fucking can’t!” he yells again and reaches into the back of his jeans,
pulling out a gun and pointing it at me. “I was really hoping not to have to
do this.”
“I’m not doing it.” I stand straighter. “You need to get help. We’ll figure
out how to make things better.”
“There is no better! For fuck’s sake, Charlie! I didn’t go through all of
this to not get that insurance money.”
“Go through what?”
He tilts his head and gives me a look that says he thinks I’m a moron.
“C’mon, Charlie, you’re not dumb.”
Dots connect.
“You did it? You started the fire?” I take a step toward him. He still has
the gun pointed at me, but he takes a step back, toward the back door.
“Of course I did! You were too busy with your legs wrapped around the
fucking Russian to be any help.”
“Any help?” Anger rises in me. “Help? Everything I’ve done for you is
to help.”
“Right,” he huffs. “You’ve been a good little slut in order to help me.”
“Say that again and I’ll rip out your fucking tongue,” a dark voice
booms from behind me. It’s Nikolai. He’s here.
Oliver’s face pales.
“Oliver, please, just put that down,” I try to reason with him, but now
he’s scared on top of angry.
“Put it down, unless you’d like me to take mine out.” Nikolai sounds
downright bored.
“I just need the money. She just needs to transfer the money,” he
whines. His hand shakes, making the barrel of the gun shake.
“She’s not going to do that. You’re not getting a dime from her. You get
nothing from now on.” Nikolai moves further into the kitchen, putting
himself in front of me.
“You think I won’t shoot you?” Oliver’s hand is so shaky, if he pulls the
trigger, who knows where the bullet will fly.
“I think you believe you will,” Nikolai states. “Put it away.”
“You’ve been using her. You’ve been fucking my little sister.”
“Your little sister has more strength, more bravery in her little fucking
pinkie than you have in your entire fucking body. And if you speak badly of
her one more time, I will cut your fucking tongue out right here in the
kitchen.” Nikolai takes another calculated step toward Oliver.
Oliver looks panic stricken, confused. What should he do? He can’t run
forward and if he tries to go out the back door he’ll just get trapped in the
stairwell.
Nikolai takes this moment to easily snatch the gun from Oliver’s hand.
He reaches back and tucks it into his slacks. He never touches his own gun
strapped in his holster.
“Dad would be so humiliated if he knew what you did,” Oliver spits at
me. It’s the last thing he says before Nikolai’s fist lands in the middle of his
face.
I scream. Oliver crumples to the floor, completely knocked out.
“Oh, my god!” I hurry forward, but Nikolai catches me.
“He’s fine. He’s just unconscious,” he says.
“He was going to shoot me. How did you know he was even here?”
He looks down at me. “Do you really think you’ve been all alone these
past few days? I’ve had someone watching over you. And I got a message
that your brother was on his way here.”
Oliver is out cold, not moving. He looks almost peaceful as though he’s
asleep.
“He’s my brother. I shouldn’t have been in any danger,” I say, still
watching my older brother sprawled out on the kitchen floor.
“No, you shouldn’t have. But Oliver’s not a very good brother.” Nikolai
has his phone out and taps away on it.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to see his phone.
“I’m having him picked up.”
“What are you going to do with him?” I shake my head. “No, you’re not
taking him. Just leave him, I’ll figure out what to do. When he wakes up—”
“When he wakes up, he’ll be as pissed and as scared as he was when he
got here. I knocked him out, not his problems,” Nikolai responds. “I’m
going to have him taken somewhere where he can calm down. Be sure
there’s nothing physically wrong with him, and then figure out who he owes
money to.”
“You don’t need to do that. I can’t pay you for your help.”
His eyes darken. “I wouldn’t take your money. And never offer it
again.” His expression reminds me of the first night I tried making him take
the ten grand I offered. It’s the same vibe now.
I swallow and move back from him. He still takes up all the space in the
room when he’s near me. It’s hard to think, to breathe, when he’s so close.
It’s too much. All of this is too much.
“Charlotte, look at me,” he says softly. He looks like he wants to touch
me, to grab my chin and force my eyes to him. It would be so much easier if
he did. If he would make me do it instead me doing it on my own.
When I lock gazes with him, the ache of the past week barrels down on
me, and I want more than his hand on my chin. I want him wrapped around
me. I want him to wash away all the pain, all the hurt, all the
embarrassment today has brought.
“Yogi will be up here in a minute to take your brother with him. I
promise you, no one is going to hurt him.” His words are controlled, while
his eyes search me.
I nod. “Okay.”
“He admitted to being the one who set the fire. Your father’s friend… it
wasn’t him.” I can only imagine what they did to him because of Oliver’s
actions.
“Ivan betrayed my father in other ways. He sealed his fate with that,” he
says.
“All right.” I suck in a breath. So much betrayal, so many sins. My own
included.
“Hey. What he said, it was bullshit.” He ducks his head to keep his gaze
in line with mine. “You need to understand that. He’s wrong.”
“He’s right, Nikolai. I traded my body for his life.”
Hurt touches his eyes. “You protected your brother when he needed
protecting. And your father would have been proud of that.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t think he would like how I did it.”
His gaze slips. “Everything you did was because I made you. I gave you
no choice and that’s my fault.”
 Nikolai Romanov is taking the blame for something? He’s admitting to
being wrong?
“You have a choice now.” He stands up straight. “Come home with me,
Charlotte.”
I stare up at his face. He hasn’t shaved, and his beard is longer. I
remember the looks he gave me when he climbed into bed at night. The
little grins he tried to hide after I gave him a smart-ass response in the
mornings, the way he arched his eyebrow when I treaded too close to the
line.
“I can’t.” It breaks me. Two words have never been so hard to say. “I
just can’t.”
His shoulders drop. “You can.”
I shake my head. “I can’t, and if you’ve come to care for me at all, you
won’t ask me to.” My throat tenses around the words, but I manage to get
them out.
The front door opens and a few seconds later, Yogi is in the kitchen.
“All right,” Nikolai says with a curt nod. “Yogi, let’s get his ass to the
car.”
Nikolai turns his back on me. My throat closes around the plea for him
to let me change my mind. But I know it’s best, my decision is the right
call.
I leave the kitchen and go to the bedroom, softly closing the door and
lean against it. I’m a coward. I can’t watch them carry my brother away. I
can’t stand there and witness Nikolai walking out of my life.
So, I hide in the bedroom.
And let my heart shatter into pieces.
Charlie

MARK IS FINALLY SETTLED at home in his own apartment. He’ll have

pulmonary therapy for a few months, but he’s going to be all right.
“Stop staring at me,” Mark grumbles as he moves about his kitchen. I’m
sitting at the table watching him as he makes himself a sandwich.
“I’m not staring.”
“You sure as hell are. Knock it off.” He brings his plate with a ham
sandwich to the table and sits with me.
“Thanks for letting me stay here, Mark,” I say when his mouth is full of
bread.
He frowns while he chews and nods. “You can stay as long as you need,
Charlie.”
“I know. But Silvia has the extra room and without having a job right
now, she could use the help with the rent.” The insurance is helping to keep
the staff on payroll, but they’ve all agreed to take a pay cut to be sure the
insurance stretches as far as it can. Once we’re back at work, I’m planning
to give them bonuses.
“That guy you were dating, where’s he been?” Mark takes another bite.
“He’s gone. It didn’t work out.” An understatement and a lie at the same
time.
Mark looks at me. “He do something I need to do something about?”
I laugh. “You’re carrying around an oxygen tank, what do you think
you’re going to do?”
“I can still kick his ass,” he deadpans. “An oxygen tank upside the head,
now that will leave a mark.” He winks.
 “You remind me so much of Dad,” I say, a bit of sadness creeping into
my voice.
“You look a hell of a lot like him, too,” Mark comments. “You know,”
he says after a long pause. “That deli was his dream. Your mom bought into
it because she loved him so damn much, but that place was your dad’s
baby.”
“I know,” I nod.
“He wanted something better for you kids than he had growing up.”
Mark pushes his plate away. “His father wanted him to become a lawyer.
He constantly beat it into him he needed to go to college to get a degree. He
needed to be a lawyer just like him.”
I don’t remember much of my grandfather, but I know his relationship
with Dad was strained. That was probably why.
“He hated it. Everything about it.” Mark scrunches up his face. “And
he’d be heartbroken as hell if he thought his dream became your
nightmare.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That deli. You’ve worked yourself to the bone for it, but you always
refer to it as though it’s still your dad’s. When you make decisions, you
consider what your dad would want. Not what you want.” These are all true
statements.
“If you’re keeping the deli and working your ass off like this for his
dream, you need to stop. That’s not what he wanted for you. He’d be rolling
over in his grave pissed as hell if he thought you were doing that.” His blue
eyes peer into me, the same way my father’s did when he was trying to
figure out if he’d gotten through to me.
“Every time I walk in there, it reminds me of them. I can still see Mom
in the office writing out checks and cursing over the receipts.” I take a slow
breath. “There are things I want to do different. I want to make our own
bread; I almost had the cash for it.”
“Okay, that’s good. What else?”
“I want to start adding some hot stuff to the menu. Soups, chili, that sort
of thing.” I had mentioned it once to my dad and he’d brushed it off. It
wasn’t his thing, so I added the idea to the list of other changes I would
have made into my notebook.
“Great,” Mark smiles. “You know you don’t have to keep the place. You
can sell it. It doesn’t have to be your dream just because it was his.” He says
this softly.
“I know,” I nod. “I’ve always loved the place, though. But, yeah, it’s
never really felt like mine. And with Oliver…” Another pain hits me. I have
no idea where he is or what’s going on with him. I trust Nikolai though, so I
know he’s all right, I just wish I knew what was happening.
“Your brother has his own demons to fight off,” Mark frowns. He
knows it was Oliver who set the fire, but he doesn’t know what happened
right in this kitchen. It’s been two weeks, and still I can feel it like it just
happened. My own brother pointing a gun at me.
“I put his portion of the insurance money in a money market account for
him. When he’s ready, it’s all his. But he’s out of the business. It’s going to
be just mine now.” I watch his face for the look of disappointment I’m sure
to find. Kicking Oliver out of the family business isn’t very sisterly.
“I think that’s the right decision. And to be honest, Charlie, one you
should have made a while ago. He’s been nothing but a thorn in your side.
You’re always chasing after him with a safety net.” He leans forward with a
finger pointed at me. “He’s your big brother. He’s supposed to be watching
over you. Not the other way around.”
A sentiment I’ve heard before.
“I don’t need anyone doing that.”
“No,” he nods. “You don’t. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.
Having someone that has your back? Everyone needs that. Even you.” He
pushes up from the table, groaning a bit probably from the arthritis in his
lower back.
“You need help?” I ask, starting to stand.
“No. I need to take a piss. You should get going. Your friend is gonna be
waiting for you.” He pats my shoulder.
“Okay. Promise you’ll call if you need something.” I grab my car keys
from the table.
“I will.” He waves and shuffles out of the kitchen.
Silvia’s waiting for me so she can help me unload what few bags I have,
so I don’t waste any more time. My new life is waiting and there’s no time
like now to get on with it.
Nikolai

“IF SHE FINDS out you’ve done all this, she’s going to be pissed.” Viktor
stares at the papers on my desk.
“I owe her this much.” I brush off his concern.
“Have you bothered to talk to her?” Viktor asks. His face is pulled into
disappointment, a look I’ve gotten used to seeing in these last few weeks
that Charlotte has been gone. The open wound in my chest from her
absence isn’t enough for me to deal with; I have to constantly be reminded
by Viktor that I’m an asshole for just walking away.
“She made up her mind, Viktor.” I sign off on the final payment. The
hospital was going to move Mark to the VA hospital once he was stable, but
I stopped them. He was getting good care where he was, and it was easier
for Charlotte to visit him as often as she wanted. So, I handled it.
“She was stressed, and in pain, Nikolai. Her brother had just put a gun
to her head, for fuck’s sake. I thought you were smarter than this.” Viktor
folds his thick arms over his chest.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not going to work.” I close the
computer and shuffle the papers into a neat pile before slipping them into an
envelope.
“She’s probably worried about Oliver; when do you plan on telling her
what you did to him?”
I look up. “When he’s ready, I’ll let him go see her.” Oliver’s debts have
all been paid. The asshole had racked up another hundred thousand in the
short time Charlotte had been mine. Fuck, just thinking those words makes
my chest twist.
“How’s he doing anyway?”
 “He’s learning.” I check my phone. A horrible habit I’ve carried over
from when Charlotte was with me. Always checking on her, seeing if she’d
messaged. Now when I look at my phone, it’s just a blank screen. Even
when there are messages from anyone else, I look right past them.
“Go talk to her.”
“And say what?” I stand up from my desk and tuck my phone into the
inside pocket of my suit jacket. “She made her decision. I have no rights to
her, Viktor.” Which is all bullshit. There’s never been anything off limits to
me before. If I want something, I take it. Nothing will get in my way.
But Charlotte’s not a thing to be stolen away.
“If you want her, Nikolai. Then you earn her back.” Viktor takes the
envelope from my desk so he can bring it across town to the attorneys.
“Make sure those get there before one.” I point.
He shakes his head. “Is your father back yet?” He finally drops the topic
of Charlotte, the one thing I try to keep from invading my thoughts and
failing pretty much every fucking minute of the day.
“Next week.” I walk over to the windows of my office and push one
open.
“Have you spoken with him?” Viktor’s voice softens. He really knows
which buttons to push today.
I take out a cigarette and light it. Blowing a gray cloud of smoke out the
window, I shake my head.
“Not since it was done.” My father took Ivan to Russia. A friendly
vacation, but only my father is coming home. He never gave the details,
only that it was finished, and Ivan was gone. No funeral would be held for
him. No memorial service. Nothing. He was a traitor to our family, and he
died as such. There would be no celebration of his life.
“It’s been a shitty few months,” Viktor says.
I take another drag of my cigarette. Not all parts were shitty. There was
a bright ray of light cutting through all the darkness.
But that’s gone now.
“It happens.” I look over my shoulder. “Don’t be late with those.”
He nods, but disapproval is written all over his face.
As soon as I’m alone, my phone rings.
Boris.
“Yeah?” I answer, taking another long drag.
 “I found the crews working the rebuild. They’re estimating a two-month
construction and another three weeks for interior,” Boris informs me.
“Seems a bit drawn out.” Full factories have gone up faster than that.
“They’re playing with insurance money, so they fuck around
sometimes.”
“Whose crew?” I take another drag, then put it out against the window
ledge.
“They aren’t backed by anyone. It’s a rarity in this city, but seems she’s
found one.” Boris chuckles.
“That works. One time deal, they need to cut that rebuild in half. The
interior gets one week. And quality work, Boris. We’ll pay for extra crew to
make it happen, but quality and fast.”
“Got it. I’ll make it happen.”
“And make sure she’s not aware. I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to
control things.”
He laughs. “And yet, you are.”
“Shut up and just do what I tell you to do,” I snap. Everyone has a
fucking opinion lately, and they’re not shy about giving it.
Another short chuckle. “I’m on it.” He ends the call and I close the
window.
Dropping my phone back on my desk, I sink into my chair. I’d close my
eyes, but every time I do, I see her. I see her sleeping in my bed. I see her
smiling as she climbs the steps in the castle. I see her laughing with her staff
behind the counter at her deli.
And every time I witness these scenes, it makes my chest ache, because
there is one fact I hadn’t realized. I hadn’t been counting the days.
But she had.
Charlie

THE CONSTRUCTION IS UNDERWAY. We’ll be back in business in

two months. Maybe less if they can get the ovens delivered sooner than the
store has estimated.
I’m completely in the way when I’m here, but I can’t help but be around
when they’re putting up the walls and building my counters. It’s all very
exciting. This must have been what it felt like for my parents watching their
dream coming to life right in front of them.
“Charlie?” Stanley, the contractor, finds me in what will be my office
once it’s built. “There’s some guy up front looking for you.”
I’m not expecting anyone.
“Did he say who he was?” I ask, stepping over a pile of lumber.
“No, he just asked for you.” His phone beeps at his hip. “Sorry, got to
get this.” He steps away and out the back door into the alley.
I maneuver around the half dozen men working in the kitchen and walk
through the skeleton wall to the front. At first, I don’t see anyone, just the
other construction guys, until one moves. And then I see him.
Nikolai.
A lump forms in my throat. I’ve managed to go an entire morning
without thinking about him, and now he’s here. Right in front of me.
Wearing a dark gray t-shirt and jeans that really shouldn’t fit him so well.
And his beard is neatly trimmed. And his hair is swept back. And his eyes
are still dark and broody. And those lips of his are still full.
I swallow, but it doesn’t matter. The man can still make me feel ten
different ways at one time.
 “Charlotte.” His expression is hard. “You shouldn’t be walking around
here without a hard hat on.” He frowns.
“We tried telling her,” one of the guys walking past him mutters.
I glare at the tattletale. “I was in the back. Alone,” I defend myself, but
this is Nikolai.
“Still.” He shakes his head. “It’s dangerous. Come outside, away from
these guys so we can talk.” He holds out his hand to me.
I stare at it. Everything in me wants to reach out and take it. I feel his
warm hand around mine again, but I know what will happen. Just touching
him will make me lose myself and I’m barely keeping myself above water
now.
After a long moment, he drops his hand. “C’mon.”
I follow him out of the shop and onto the sidewalk. It’s cooler out here
than in the building with all the machines and there’s no air conditioning
yet.
“Still bossy,” I comment.
He gives me a half smile. “That’s never going to change.”
I look away. “Yeah. I wouldn’t think so.” There’s a beat of silence.
“What are you doing here, Nikolai?”
“This is something new for me, Charlotte.” He slips his hands into the
front pockets of his jeans and dips his head. “I’m here to ask you to join me
for dinner.”
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“I guess I am.” The left corner of his mouth kicks up into a casual grin.
For being something new to him, he’s doing a pretty good job. The severity
of him is still there, but that’s his strength. It’ll never go away. But he’s
asking me. He’s not ordering me. He’s not demanding it. He’s asking me.
And I can say no.
I can reject him right here on the sidewalk outside my deli.
“Then ask.” I tilt my head. Okay, maybe I’m enjoying this more than I
should. And his eyes tell me he knows it.
“Charlotte, I’d like to take you to dinner. Would you like to join me?”
I should definitely say no. This is a rabbit hole I don’t want to fall down
into again.
“Sure,” I answer.
“Good,” he nods. “Tonight then? Seven? I’ll pick you up.”
“I’ll meet you.” An easy escape should things get too hard.
 He frowns, but he doesn’t argue. “Okay. I’ll text you the address.” He
looks off down the street. “I don’t like this, Charlotte. You not being with
me every day. I hate it.”
It’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to me, and when he brings his
gaze back to mine, I can feel the pain in them.
“Dinner sounds good.” I manage to get the words around my heart that’s
banging around my throat.
He gives a curt nod. “Seven.” He points a finger. “Not a second late.”
“Of course not,” I laugh.
He pauses for a moment, like he’s going to say something else, or do
something—maybe he’ll grab me, kiss me, do something that reminds me
what it feels like to be his again.
“I’ll see you tonight, then.”
I’m left standing alone on the sidewalk as he walks to his car and climbs
into the driver’s seat. I give a little wave as he passes me and merges into
traffic.
Seven o’clock.
I have a date with Nikolai Romanov at seven.

I’M crazy for doing this. And yet here I am in the elevator on my way up to
Nikolai’s condo. When he asked me to dinner, I assumed it would be a
restaurant. A crowded restaurant with a lot of background noise to fill the
gaps in our conversation.
I should have known better. This is Nikolai, and he’s never taken me
somewhere like that.
He’s waiting for me when the elevator doors glide open. Unlike the first
time I was brought here, I’m already dressed for the evening. The black
dress he bought for me. Out of all the ones bought that day, this one seems
to be his favorite. Maybe I’m trying to torment him a little by wearing it.
But he seemed to have the same idea with his outfit. Black trousers, with a
thick black belt around his waist and a dark purple button-down shirt with
the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s a perfect mixture of professional
casual. No tie tonight, though, and the first button of his shirt is undone.
 When he sees me, he mutters something in Russian beneath his breath. I
have no idea what the words mean, but I know his body language by now.
He’s definitely happy with what he’s looking at.
“You’re on time,” he says, glancing at his watch on his left wrist.
“Punctuality is next to godliness,” I say and immediately cringe at how
cheesy that sounded.
He laughs. “Dinner’s almost ready.” He gestures to the living room. “Do
you want a glass of wine?”
“Yeah.” I follow him to the living room.
He walks to the bar in the far corner of the room and pours himself a
drink and a glass of white wine for me. As he brings it to me, I watch his
movements. Purposeful and confident. He doesn’t appear to be shaken and
frightened like I am on the inside.
“Thanks.” I take the wine and instantly down half of it. When I bring it
from my lips, he’s staring at me. “I was thirsty.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you nervous to be alone with me?”
As I open my mouth to answer he cuts me off. “And remember how I
deal with lies.”
My cheeks heat at the memory. “I am a little nervous, yes.” I down the
rest of the wine.
He takes the empty glass and puts it on one of the end tables.
“How is the construction going?” he asks.
“You ask like you don’t already know.” I smile so he knows that I’m not
angry. “You got the company to hire more men and assure me the work
would be done in half the time they originally estimated.”
His lips twitch. “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”
“I should be mad. I should point out that you can’t keep trying to
control things. But.” I sigh. “I’m one hundred percent benefitting from it so
I’m going to let it slide.” After all, getting back to work as soon as possible
is the goal.
“What else do you know?”
“I know that you took care of Mark’s medical bills, and you fought to
keep him at the hospital instead of being transferred. But again, I’m getting
a really good outcome on this, so I’m letting it slide.”
He nods. “Seems fair, I suppose.”
“The police investigation is over on the fire,” I sigh. “I’m not sure how
you did it, but they aren’t linking Oliver to it.” Having an owner burn down
his own business—even when he only owns ten percent of it—would have
made the insurance claim unpayable.
“That wasn’t as hard as you think.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Is that
why you agreed to come tonight? Because you think you owe me?” His
expression hardens. “Because you don’t. Not a damn thing.”
“No,” I assure him. “I’m here because…” I pause because what is there
to really say. How do I look at him and not crave his touch?
“Sir. Dinner is ready.” The housekeeper steps into the room.
“Thank you,” he dismisses her then turns back to me. “Hungry?”
I stare at him. He’s trying to make this a real date. Drinks. Dinner.
Conversation. And all I want is for him to wrap his body around mine.
“Not really.” I move to him, sliding my hands up his shirt until I frame
his face with my hands. “I’m here because I missed you, Nikolai.” I press
my lips to his. And it’s the last bit of control I have over the situation.
His glass gets put down. His hands are on me, sliding up into my hair
and fisting it. Then he pulls my head back.
“I missed you too, Charlotte.” He bites down on his bottom lip, like he’s
trying to keep from saying more. “I want to carry you into the bedroom and
fuck you so hard your vocal cords burst, but I won’t if you say no right
now.” He lets out a low growl. “You need to say no, Charlotte.”
“I don’t want to say no.”
“Think about this, because saying yes, it means more than just a quick
fuck. It means tomorrow you’re still here. It means tomorrow night, you’re
still here. It means next week, you’re still here.” He kisses me. “So, think
about it before you say yes.”
I try to catch my breath, but there’s no hope. I’m with Nikolai. I’ll never
stop being breathless around him.
“I’m saying yes.” I kiss him back, and he releases my hair only to use
his hand to crush me to him.
“You have exactly ten seconds to get in there and get out of this dress.”
He releases me and checks his watch. “Ten… Nine…”
I’m not sure I want to make it in time, but I take off running anyway. By
the time I get to the bedroom, I can already hear his steady steps along the
floor.
The dress is a puddle on the floor when he steps into the room. His shirt
is already untucked and unbuttoned. His belt is undone, and he’s unzipping
his pants.
 “I was almost hoping you’d been bad.” He shoves his pants down and
kicks them off as he makes his way to me.
“I’m sure you’ll get to be the disciplinarian another time.” I have no
doubt I’m right about that.
He grabs hold of my arms and spins me around, bending me over the
edge of the bed. His warm hands roam over my back and my ass.
“While you’ve been gone, have you been good?” he asks.
I look over my shoulder, unsure of what he’s referring to. Then I notice
it. Worry, jealousy. He’s scared I’ve been with someone else.
“There’s no one else, Nikolai. Only you,” I assure him.
His features relax, and he climbs on the bed beside me, flipping me
over. I move further up the bed until I’m in the middle and he’s on top of
me, kissing me, licking, and nipping every bit of my body until there isn’t a
nerve ending inside that isn’t craving the next touch from him.
His fingers dip between my legs, and he rubs my clit until the pleasure
builds, threatening to break through the dam.
“Nikolai,” I mutter against his neck. “Please. I need you.” I reach
between us and wrap my hand around his thick, long cock. “Don’t make me
wait any more.”
Using his knee, he spreads my legs, and in one powerful thrust, he’s
inside me. I cry out from the sudden stretch, but it’s not painful. It’s the
most beautiful sensation in the world.
He looks down at me, locking our gazes together as he begins to move.
Pumping in and out, faster and harder, he’s fucking me with more passion,
more power than he ever has before. And he never breaks eye contact.
“You’re never leaving me again.”
“No, Nikolai. Never.” It’s a promise. A vow I will make, and I will keep
for the rest of my life. Because no matter how this started between us,
there’s a strength to our bond now that won’t break.
He tilts his head back and drives harder into me. I pull up my leg,
wrapping it around his waist, taking him even deeper.
“Fuck!” I yell. “Oh, Nikolai.”
He kisses me. “Scream for me, Charlotte. Scream for me.” He slips his
hand between our bodies and finds my clit again. It’s like a trigger being
pulled and my entire body fires. My throat burns from crying out his name,
my body weakens as the intensity of my orgasm fades.
 He cradles my face in his hands. “You’re the most important thing that’s
ever happened to me,” he says, then thrusts forward. His jaw clenches and
he plows forward again and again until he stills, and he grunts before
releasing a battle cry of his own.
Heavy breathing is the only sound in the room. His heart beats against
my chest as he lies quietly, his weight on his forearms as he recovers. This
man could crush me right now and I would die happier than I have ever
been in my life.
None of it makes much sense to me, but I don’t care. The pieces don’t
all have to fit in order for the beauty of the picture to be adored.
“Nikolai,” I whisper. My throat aches; I think I did actually break my
vocal cords.
He gently eases himself from me, and slides to the side of me.
“Yeah?” He holds himself up on one elbow, staring down at me. Is he
worried I’m going to pull the rug out from beneath us now?
“I love you, Nikolai. I know I probably shouldn’t. But I can’t help it. I
love you so much and the past few weeks… they’ve been hell.” I touch his
cheek. “I’m sorry I put us through that.”
He shakes his head and pulls my hand down, holding it tightly.
“You did what was right for you. You put space where you needed it.
You took care of yourself, and I’m proud of you for it. It’s the first time I’ve
seen you do what was right for you without worrying about how to make it
better for someone else.” He kisses my wrists. “I’m damn proud of you for
it,” he says again.
A tear, a happy one this time, slips down my temple.
“And I love you, too, Charlotte.”
Nikolai

SHE’S TRYING my patience today. If she doesn’t put that damn phone into
her purse in the next three seconds I’m going to snatch it out of her hands.
“Sorry,” she mutters and slips it into her handbag.
“It’s rude,” I comment.
She wiggles closer to me in the pew. “I know. I’m just excited.” Oliver’s
coming home tomorrow, and he’s been sending her text messages every
stop of his trip. The last four months spent in Russia working beside
members of my family has been good for him. He’s anxious to see his little
sister, and from the reports I’ve received he’s grown up enough that I’ll
allow it.
I’ll always keep an extra eye on him, though. He pulled a gun on her.
No matter how out of control with panic and fear he was, he put himself
over his sister. And I won’t forgive that until he convinces me he’ll never
do it again.
“What are they saying?” she whispers to me as she watches Yogi and
Eva at the altar.
“They’re saying their vows,” I explain and then recite them to her in
English. It’s been two months since we’ve said our own vows. We didn’t
have a large wedding such as this. There was no church, no attendees other
than my father and brothers and her friends. And everything was said in
English. She argued for it, because she wanted to be sure I wasn’t going to
slip in a vow of absolute obedience in Russian.
 I didn’t need to do that. She promises to be my good girl almost every
night.
“She’s so pretty,” Charlotte says when Eva turns around to face the
congregation with her bright smile. Yogi looks like a proud bastard at her
side, snaking her arm through his before he leads her back down the aisle.
I pick up my wife’s hand and squeeze it. I want to tell her no woman is
more pretty than her, but she’ll only shake her head.
It’s our turn to leave our seats, and I keep her hand tucked in mine as we
follow the rest of the congregation out to the back of the church. The
reception is being held across town, and with the Saturday evening traffic, it
will take us a while to get there. Viktor has already ducked out and brought
the car around for us.
“I was thinking about making Joey a store manager,” she says to me as
we make our way through the crowded New York streets.
“Isn’t he already?” I stay out of her business. It’s hers and unless she
asks for my opinion I stay away. And since she’s rebuilt it and made the
changes she’s wanted to make, it’s been thriving. Even when I allowed that
chain shop to reopen a few blocks away. She’s really made it a
neighborhood deli again, and the people in the area are loving it.
“No. I mean sort of, but not officially.” She leans her head onto my
shoulder. She’s been more tired lately. As much as I want to forbid her the
long hours at the deli, I fight the urge. I’ll just have to wear her out so much
from her evening activities that she’ll want to spend the day sleeping.
“So, if you make him the official store manager, what does that mean?”
“It means I won’t have to worry about covering any shifts. We’ll hire
someone to cover his position and he’ll take the hours I’ve been working.”
I look down at her. “You’re not going to work anymore?”
“Oh, I will, but mostly just part time. I’ll take care of the books, but
he’ll handle the orders, the staffing, deposits. Most of what I do now.”
“That sounds good to me,” I smile.
“Yeah,” she nods. “I mean you can’t really have a baby strapped to your
hip while you’re slicing corned beef, right? No. It’ll be better this way.”
For a second my vision blanks.
“Want me to pull up front or park?” Viktor asks.
I stare down at her while she’s peering up at me.
“Are you serious?”
 “Park, Viktor. I think your boss needs a minute,” she says to him, and
Viktor pulls around the corner to find a garage.
“I’m very serious, Nikolai.” She grins up at me.
I gently lay my hand over her belly. “You have my son in there?”
She laughs. “Or your daughter.”
I swallow.
“I hope your father doesn’t mind that you’re giving him a grandchild
before your brothers. But they’re… well, I don’t know what they’re up to.”
“They’re busy with their own women problems. Don’t worry about
them.” I kiss her. “You’re pregnant.”
“I am,” she nods.
Viktor parks the car and steps out.
“And you tell me in the car?”
“I did.”
“I don’t want to be here now. I want to go home.” I reach for the
window control so I can tell Viktor to take us home, but she pulls my hand
away.
“No way, Nikolai. This is Yogi’s day, and it would be rude to ditch the
party. Besides, I want to tell your father. I think it will make him happy.
He’s been so sad since…” She pauses. “Since his visit to Russia.”
I touch her cheek. “It will make his night.”
“Then stop stalling, let’s go.” She grabs my hand then opens her door.
Viktor is there already, and he puts his hand out for her. I should be doing
that, but I’ll forgive him this once.
“Congratulations, Charlie,” he says to her with a smile.
I’ve known this man for half my life, and I’ve never seen him smile as
much as when she’s around him. I’ll forgive him that too.
“Thank you, Viktor. But you can’t tell anyone. I want to do that.”
He nods. “Of course.”
“What are you doing listening to our conversation?” I try to glare at him
but he only shrugs.
“She’s had to run back into the bathroom before leaving for work
several times the last two weeks. I sort of already knew.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Not my place, boss.” Everyone’s got a reason today.
“Don’t drink too much tonight,” I order him, then catch up to my wife
who’s already halfway across the parking lot.
 “I hope they have those bacon things I like,” Charlotte says when I
catch up to her and lace our fingers together.
“Lasineciai?” I ask.
“The bun things,” she nods.
“I don’t think they’ll have them at the reception. But there will be some
when we get home.” I have my phone out and get it taken care of. Anything
this woman wants, she’s going to have.
We walk up the steps to the reception hall where music is already
blaring, and the celebration is in full swing. I squeeze Charlotte’s hand, and
we search for my father in the crowd. Yogi stands with his bride, looking
like a man who’s been given the world, which is impossible.
Because I already have it.
Measha Stone is a USA Today bestselling romance author with a deep love for romantic stories,
specifically those involving the darker side of romance, all the possessive dominant heroes, and their
feisty heroines. If you love a well deserved happily ever after, you will enjoy her books.

www.meashastone.com
 DARK ROMANCE STANDALONE
The Mob Boss’ Pet

OWNED AND PROTECTED

Protecting His Pet
Protecting His Runaway
His Captive Pet
His Captive Kitten
Becoming His Pet
Training His Pet

MAFIA BRIDES (Staszek Family)

Taken By Him
Kept By Him
Captivated By Him

RELUCTANT BRIDES (Kaczmarek Family)

Unwilling Pawn
Reluctant Surrender
Veiled Treasure
 Taken By Him

Four years ago I signed a contract. Today Dominik Staszek came to

collect what is his.
Me.
He is not a gentle man, and he will not be a gentle husband.
Not even on our wedding night. Not even my very first time.
Before we even spoke our vows I felt the sting of his belt on my bare
bottom, but it was only once I was bound to his bed that I began to truly
understand what it means to belong to him.
I am not just his bride. I am his completely.
My family took something from the Russian mob. Now they've taken
something back.
Me.
I was given to Micah Ivanov as a bride to keep the peace between the
two most powerful mafia dynasties in Chicago. But my future husband
doesn't plan to let this be a marriage in name only.
He's going to take me to his bed whether I like it or not, starting tonight.
I know he's going to be rough. I know it's going to hurt. But that's not
all that scares me...
I'm not just afraid that he'll make me scream.
I'm terrified that he'll make me beg for it first.
When the mob came after me, Jakub Staszek kept me safe. But his
protection has a price...
Me.
When he caught me drinking underage in his club five years ago, Jakub
spanked my bare bottom like a naughty little girl. But when he took off his
belt today, he had a different use in mind for it.
It was to bind my arms and leave me helpless for a much rougher, much
more shameful lesson.
The kind where my face is pressed into the sheets and every thrust is
more brutal than the last.
The kind that will leave me begging, screaming, and still sore with
every step I take tomorrow.
But the next time he stripes my backside, it won't be to teach a
disobedient college girl a lesson.
It will be to teach his new bride her place.
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