She had felt so good in my arms, had tasted like the sweetest ambrosia, yet as much as I ached to make her mine in every way, I knew we should wait.
Instead, we talked. About everything. About nothing. We didn’t mention our families, didn’t mention anything to do with her father’s work or my own. She simply told me about herself—what books she liked, what movies made her laugh, her favorite dessert. She was smart. Crazy, scary, sexy smart.
When she told me how much she enjoyed my lips on her in Russian, I nearly lost what little control I had on my need for her and had her right there on the couch.
Everything that came out of her mouth, I stored away for safe keeping, knowing I would use them all to spoil her as no one ever had before.
I loved the sound of her voice, the way her laugh was so natural, as if she didn’t try to hold herself back. She was so confident, so alive.
Her hands, those silky soft fingers, were constantly touching me, as if she considered me hers just as much as she was mine. I liked that she couldn’t stop, liked that she did it without seeming to realize. They were innocent touches. A brush of her finger over my jaw. Her nails skimming down the back of my neck, making me lean into her touch, wanting more.
More of her.
For one brief flash, I felt a shot of guilt deep in my gut.
I wasn’t free to do this with her, to hold her and touch her, make her my own in all the ways I ached to do so. She deserved more than what I could give her; deserved everything a woman should expect a man to give her when they shared the kind of powerful connection we did.
Then, when she rubbed her thumb over my bottom lip and leaned in to brush her ripe lips over mine, I couldn’t have cared less about what I couldn’t give her. All that mattered was that I could give her everything that mattered. My body, my soul … my heart.
When she pulled back, out of breath after just a tease of a kiss that left my heart thundering in my ears, she pressed her forehead against mine and let out a sad sigh. “I must go.”
I tightened my arms around her, wanting to keep her with me every second of every day for the rest of eternity. I knew I couldn’t, however, so I pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw and stood with her still in my arms, unwilling to release her to let her walk away from me.
A giggle left her, making that part deep inside that she had stirred to life sigh with contentment. That giggle was innocent, yet wild, and I wanted to bottle it up so I could keep it with me.
I carried her over to the elevator and hit the call button. And when it arrived almost immediately, for the first time, I cursed the damn thing for its swiftness. Then I reluctantly set her on her feet and guided her into the elevator, but I didn’t follow her inside.
Keeping one hand on the door to keep it from closing, I leaned in and kissed her, long and deeply. She twisted her hands in my shirt, trying to pull me closer, but I knew I had to keep my head on straight.
For now.
Pulling back, I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, tasting her there. “Text me when you get home so I know you are safe.”
She nodded, her eyes a little dazed as she touched her fingers to her lips. “Okay,” she breathed.
I touched a few buttons on the control panel. “This code unlocks my floor. Use it. Promise me.”
She followed my fingers, taking in the pattern I used, and then nodded, making her red locks fall over her shoulders. “I promise.”
I stepped back, knowing if I didn’t let her leave now, I wasn’t ever going to let her go. “I will call you tonight.”
Her sassy smile lifted her kiss-swollen lips. “Maybe I will come find you again.”
“Yes,” I nearly growled, watching her golden-brown eyes light up. “I won’t hide, kotyonok. I’ll be waiting right here. For you. Always.”
Her eyes sparkled with need and excitement, but before she could speak, the elevator doors slid shut.
As I stood there, listening to the elevator descend, I felt as if she had torn my heart from my chest and stolen it without so much as a bat of those long lashes of hers. For a moment, I felt as if I couldn’t draw a deep enough breath, as if she had stolen that, as well.
Without her, I felt hollow, and she had only just left.
She owned me.
Every part, ever inch—it was hers now.
But I can never truly belong to her.
I gritted my teeth as the voice in the back of my head mocked me, taunting me with the truth.
I wasn’t free. It was wrong to want to own and possess her when I could never give her what I knew she needed. I could give her my body, my heart, even my fucking soul.
But I could never give her my name.
I should have told her while she was there, should have explained it all to her. But I was too greedy, too damn selfish to risk losing even a second of my time with her.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to turn away from the elevator and went to my bedroom. My body was still throbbing after having tortured myself with her in my arms.
After a cold shower and a change of clothes that didn’t smell like her floral perfume, I went to work.
Anya’s club was only one of many legitimate businesses I was a partner in, but none of them really interested me, other than making me money—and helping to hide the money my real work brought in. The hundreds of millions that came from extortion, drugs, and prostitution, even the work my sister did on the side for a select cliental, the clubs all helped launder that, turning it into legitimate money.
My office wasn’t in some downtown skyscraper. It wasn’t even in the back room of my sister’s club. The Feds liked to watch me and my bratva—my brotherhood—too closely for me to have only one particular place to run my businesses.
When I walked into any place under my protection, I was treated like royalty. People stopped what they were doing and rooms grew quiet until I spoke. It wasn’t fear, but respect that I had amassed from those I took care of. The fear was for those who didn’t have my protection. Who fucked with those who meant something to me. Who went against me, or tried to undermine my authority.
I didn’t need a full escort of men who had a full battalion of heavy metal underneath their fine suits, unlike Victoria’s father. I only took one or two men with me when needed.
There was a hierarchy of underdogs beneath me, but I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty … or bloody.
Vito had given me a task, and because it was something of mutual interest, I was going to do what I could. That meant sending out every one of my shestyorka—errand boys who were at the bottom of the totem pole—in search of Carlo Santino Jr. That little shit had been muddying the waters in New York for too long. It was time to send him back to the West Coast, or better yet, back to Italy.
Preferably in a body bag.
The last time he had been in the city, he had caused me more than enough trouble to make me want to send him back to his father in a fucking body bag. But he was slimy, and I had been unable to get my hands on him. I wasn’t going to let him slip through my fingers so easily this time around. I had promised Vito I would help find him. I hadn’t, however, promised to hand him over in one piece.
I sent out word, putting a price on Jr.’s head, knowing that, if it was possible, my people would accomplish it.
After getting that sorted, I stopped by the Iron Hand since Anya had wanted to talk to me earlier.
I knew it wasn’t just about business. She had held herself in check while Victoria had been in my apartment, which was saying something.
My little sister played by her own rules, cared about no one—maybe not even herself at times. She had to turn a part of herself off when she did her side work. Nonetheless, she liked Victoria and her sister, which was a true honor. That just showed me again how special my kotyonok was.
I entered the club through the back entrance, knowing the rest of the club would be deserted except for the cleaning crew who came in hours bef
ore the club opened.
As I had expected, I found Anya sitting at her desk, her eyes on her Mac desktop, its screen so large it nearly took up the entire surface. Her hair was pulled back into a chic ponytail that showcased her striking features.
Her blue eyes lifted from her screen, just a flicker of her long dark lashes, giving me a bored glance before turning back to her screen. “I’m surprised to see you, dear brother. I thought for sure you would be holed up in your bed for at least a few days with the lovely Victoria.” Her tone didn’t give anything away, but I could tell by the set of her mouth that she wasn’t happy.
“Out with it, Anya,” I commanded as I casually dropped down onto the old leather couch that she had always favored. Sometimes she even slept on it rather than going home to her own bed.
I stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing my ankles. Might as well get comfortable before my sister tore into me.
I would never admit it aloud, but Anya had the ability to scare even me. She was so cold at times, so emotionless. She could have pulled a gun and shot me between the eyes, then calmly gone back to whatever she had been working on. That was what made her such a good assassin. When she did care for something, she cared with not just her heart, but her soul.
At times, I wasn’t sure if she cared for me or not.
She hadn’t always been like that. Once, she had been the most passionate person I knew about everything, yet she still had the ability to turn off her emotions when it came to work. It was something we had learned to do quickly and at young ages. Only, Taras hadn’t learned that lesson. He hadn’t been able to turn himself off when it came to work, which was why he had tried to go a different route than us.
The death of our brother had broken something inside Anya. Just as it had me.
Anya turned in her desk chair, her brows lifted in fake surprise. “Out with what, Adrian?”
“Whatever is festering in your belly right now.” I folded my hands behind my neck, getting more comfortable. “Spill it.”
She crossed her legs and gave me a chilling smile. “Oh, I have nothing to say, my darling brother. What would I ever have to say about you fucking everything up? It will only be a death warrant that gets signed for your head if you fuck around with Cristiano Vitucci’s favorite sister, after all.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at the mention of Victoria’s brother. So that was what was going on with her. How could I have not seen that?
As cold and emotionless as Anya could be, when it came to Cristiano, she was a little tigress. I couldn’t tell if it was a love/hate thing or just a love/love thing. Either way, he was the one thing, the one person in the world, who could make my sister show even a flicker of emotion. Just the mention of his name could make her eyes sparkle with a passion that had never shone out of them before.
“There is no reason to worry about me, Anya. I can handle Vitucci.”
Her blue eyes darkened as she shifted in her seat. “You think so? Hmm … I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes,” she said pointblank, not even a flicker of her lashes.
Her phone vibrated loudly on her desk, and she turned her attention to it. “Speak of the devil,” she murmured, lifting the phone.
“Cristiano?” I smirked at her. “Tell him I said hello.”
She lifted a hand, as if to silence me, as she scanned over her phone’s screen. After typing out a reply, she tossed the phone back on her desk. “So, about the construction; how much can I put into the addition without getting any raised brows?”
Just like that, she had clicked off her emotions and turned to work. I both admired and hated her ability to do that so easily. It wasn’t normal, but nothing about Anya had ever been normal.
We were deep into arguing about how much she could spend when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, even as we were still arguing about an extra twenty grand. Seeing Victoria’s name on the screen, I didn’t hesitate to lift it to my ear.
“I’m busy at the moment, kotyonok,” I murmured. “Can I call you back?”
“I-I need to talk to you.” Her voice shook, making me jerk to my feet. I left Anya’s office without so much as a look in my sister’s direction. I didn’t know what was going on, but I couldn’t handle the way her voice had cracked.
I was already heading for my car when I asked, “What’s wrong? Did you make it home safely?” Fuck, I hadn’t gotten a text from her as she had promised. I should have realized too much time had passed since I had last seen her, but work had caught my attention and I hadn’t kept up with the time.
If something had happened to her, no one would escape my wrath.
“I’m fine.” Her voice wasn’t nearly as shaky this time, but I could still tell something was off.
I jerked the driver’s door of my car open and climbed behind the wheel as she took a shuddery breath.
“I just thought I owed it to you to let you know I won’t be seeing you again, Adrian.”
Something cold settled in my stomach. I gripped the wheel in front of me, ready to rip it off. What the fuck had happened between the time I had last kissed her and now? Who could have talked to her? I didn’t have the answers, and right then, I could have happily killed to have gotten them.
“Why?” I finally bit out, needing her to tell me before I started slaughtering people in search of the answer.
She didn’t speak for a long while, and if I hadn’t heard her breathing, I would have thought she had hung up on me.
I sucked in a harsh breath, trying to calm my racing mind and pounding heart. “Victoria, I asked you why.” Something was wrong, but I could still fix this. Whatever it was, I would set it right. Anything it took, I would do. I couldn’t lose her. Not yet. Not ever. “Kotyonok, what’s the matter? Talk to me, little one. I can’t fix this if I don’t know what’s hurt you.”
“S-someone close to me has shown me that a future with you is impossible,” she whispered, yet I heard her as easily as if she had shouted it right in my ear. “You’re not free to be with me, are you, Adrian?”
No. No, she couldn’t know already. I hadn’t had time to even figure out how I was going to deal with everything. Hadn’t had time to show her how I felt; to make her see that, no matter what a piece of paper said, I was hers.
“Who told you?” I couldn’t control the volume of my voice, which was completely out of the norm for me. I was usually in control of everything, but with Victoria, I suddenly felt very helpless. It was a feeling I didn’t like, couldn’t tolerate. I wanted to fix it—fix this—and now. “Tell me who told you these things, kotyonok. Now.”
Only a few choice people knew, and none of them would dare speak the truth aloud. I would destroy whoever had dared whisper it in Victoria’s ear.
“It’s doesn’t matter who. All that matters is that it’s the truth. I thought we had something special, but obviously I was only being stupid. I don’t play those kinds of games, Adrian, and I’ll never settle for being anyone’s second choice. It was nice knowing you, but it’s over now.” I heard a sob escape her, making razor-sharp daggers slice through my heart.
My hands fisted, and I ached to make something—someone—bleed.
“G-goodbye.”
“Victoria!” Her name came out in a roar, echoing through my car, but the connection had been severed.
She was gone.
Chapter 3
Victoria
My eyes kept going back to my phone. Over and over again, every time my phone so much as vibrated with an incoming text or call, my heart would stop then race, before feeling the sharp clench of disappointment each time I looked at my phone’s screen.
It wasn’t him.
Why would I even think it would be? I had called Adrian less than a few hours after spending the most perfect morning with him, hurting over what my sister had learned about the man I knew I was more than half in love with. He had a secret, one I
knew nothing about, but one that obviously meant we couldn’t have a future together.
Unless Anya was just trying to get me out of her brother’s life without causing too big of a mess in the process. Why else would she have called Scarlett and asked her to keep me away from her brother?
Fuck, I hoped that was the case. It was why I kept looking at my phone with a longing that was starting to cripple me. I ached for Adrian to call, to text, to put me right. To tell me that it was all a misunderstanding. That there was no reason, not one single thing, that stood between us.
So far, I had gotten a text from my cousin Allegra, and several from my brother. My grandmother had even called to check in, and to see if Scarlett and I were settling in at home all right after having been in Sicily for the last three years with her. Hell, I had even gotten a text from Dante, no doubt sent by mistake, probably intended for Scarlett. He was closer to her than me. Maybe not as close as Ciro was with her, but still, they both preferred her to me any day of the week.
I suffered through dinner with my family. Papa kept trying to pull me into conversation, but I pretended to have a headache, my excuse for the way I kept staring off into space for no particular reason, replaying every single moment I’d had with Adrian over the last two days. If Scarlett hadn’t assured him that I had checked my glucose levels before dinner, he probably would have thought it was my diabetes. For once I wouldn’t have minded using that to my advantage if it meant Papa didn’t look too closely into the reason I probably looked like someone had killed my best friend.
“I would appreciate it if you girls stayed home the next few days.” Papa finally succeeded in pulling my focus to him as the housekeeper’s assistant cleared away our main course dishes and proceeded to place the coffee on the dining table.
His tone had changed from doting father to that of the man used to having every order that left his mouth followed in precise detail. Heads rolled when things didn’t go the way he expected.
I tried to listen when he doled out warning, or suggestions that were really commands. But honestly, I rarely did what he wanted.