I run my fingers through my hair, tension building in my chest. I need to talk to Ana before this blows up in my face.Standing abruptly, I grab my jacket. “I’ve got to head home. Tell Igor I had a good time.”Bianchi gives me a nod. “I’ll make sure he gets home safe. Have a good night, Dmitri.”I leave the club, ignoring the women who call out to me, their hands grazing my shoulders as I walk past. They mean nothing. My mind is elsewhere, back at home, with Anastasia.The drive is a blur. All I can think about is what Lucia might have said to Ana. The sex we had might have been a mistake, but Ana deserves to hear the truth from me. I have to tell her that Lucia and I have been over for a long time, and there’s no place for her in my life now.When I step into the house, it’s Yelena I find in the living room, casually eating bread with jam while watching TV. She turns to me with a teasing grin.“About time you came home. I was starting to think you had another family.”“Why are you st
ANA“Flowers for you,” Steve announces as he strides into my office, holding a massive bouquet of white and red roses like it’s the most normal thing in the world for me to receive. “Met the delivery guy on my way in. Figured I’d do him a solid and bring them up.”I stare at the bouquet suspiciously. “What about my signature?” I ask, wondering who would send me something like this. The only person who might send me roses is Yelena, and she’s more of a chocolates and cocktails kind of girl.Steve shrugs. “I signed for you.”Of course, he did. Because that’s totally normal. I should probably ask how, since delivery guys don’t just hand things over without verification, but I can already imagine him pulling some fast-talking nonsense. Not worth the effort.I get up and take the roses from him, their scent hitting me as I inhale deeply. It’s nice—unexpected, but nice. A small smile creeps onto my face, though I can’t shake the curiosity gnawing at me. Who’s responsible for this?“This cam
And before I can stop myself, I blurt out the question that’s been nagging at me. “Is it the sex? Are you trying to apologize for that night? Because if so, you don’t have to. It was mutual, and this,” I gesture to the table, the whole evening, “really isn’t necessary.”For a split second, I think I see a flicker of amusement on his face, but it’s gone just as quickly. He leans back slightly, his lips curling into a small smile. “I’m not doing this because of what happened that night, Ana. You’re my wife. It’s expected that I treat you right, regardless of our...situationship.”Situationship. Right. I’d almost forgotten that’s all this is—a weird situation. Not a real marriage, not a real relationship. Just a deal.I sigh softly, letting the disappointment creep in again. “I see.”Dmitri tilts his head slightly, watching me, and I wonder if he can sense the shift in my mood. “What’s wrong?” he asks.“Nothing,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Everything’s fine.”He hands me the menu. “What wo
DMITRI“Have I ever told you that I like this new you?” Yelena’s voice drips with amusement as she lounges on the sofa in the corner of my office. Her legs are crossed, a playful pout on her lips. “Everyone says it’s impossible to change a man set in his ways, but Ana’s a magician.”I stare at the bouquet sitting on my desk, my eyes narrowing. “How?”Yelena uncrosses her legs, strolling over to my desk with her usual air of confidence. She pulls out the chair across from me and sits down, her gaze fixed on the flowers. “Did you pick these out yourself?” she asks, her tone teasing.“I didn’t,” I reply bluntly. “I had Jakob take care of it.”Her eyes flicker with amusement, and I can sense she’s about to crack a joke. I scowl, my patience already running thin. “What’s your point, Yelena?”She gives me a shrug, but there’s a glint of mischief in her expression that makes my jaw tighten. Finally, she relents with a smirk. “It’s nothing, really. Just… I’ve never seen you buy flowers for an
I turn, my voice calm once more as I head back to my seat. “Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get on with the meeting.”At eight o’clock sharp,I toss my bag into the backseat of the car, the weight of the day pressing against my shoulders. It’s a typical New York evening—traffic clogging every inch of the FDR, slowing me down as I navigate through the endless sea of brake lights. I grip the steering wheel harder than usual, my mind circling back to Ana.I asked Yelena to give her the flowers. Red and white carnations.Love and admiration.My chest tightens as I pull into the driveway. I could have chosen roses, something simple, but no—I had to be difficult. I’d chosen carnations, flowers thatmeantsomething, and I don’t even know if Ana is the type to care about that kind of thing.What’s worse, I’d allowed Yelena to lie and say the flowers were from her.The door swings open, and I step into the quiet foyer, the scent of freshly popped popcorn drifting from the living room. My feet
ANADaria’s face says it all as I approach her desk.Great. Just great.“Let me guess, he’s pulled another disappearing act?” I ask, my heart sinking. I thought giving Papa some space would make him miss me, but apparently his ego’s gotten so big it’s pushed out any paternal feelings. At this rate, I’ll be collecting social security before he decides to grace me with his presence.Daria shakes her head, oozing sympathy. “Sorry, hon. I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting. You know how he gets.”My shoulders slump like they’re trying to touch the floor. “Right. Because heaven forbid Nikolai Petrov face his only daughter.” A spark of defiance flares up. “Maybe I should just camp out here. He can’t ignore me forever, can he?”I see the pity in Daria’s eyes as she offers me a chair. “If you think it’ll work. Or I could tell you where he is. If you’re feeling brave enough to make a scene?—”“No, no,” I cut her off, shaking my head so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t fall off. “Can’t embarrass th
I shrug. “I went to see my father, then I went to see my mom, and I didn’t want to come back here because I hate this place. So, I went to a bar. And I drank.” My lips stretch into a lopsided grin. “It was so much fun.”Dmitri runs his fingers through his hair. “How did you get home, then?”How did I get home?I scratch my head, trying to remember the details, but all I feel is this warm, fuzzy feeling in my head. Like I’m floating on clouds but not quite.“Where’s your car?” he prompts.“Ah!” I smack my temple as I remember. “I drove. Slowly,” I drag out the last word, “because I didn’t want to get into an accident. Yeah. I drove here.”Panic rushes into Dmitri’s eyes for a split second, then he races past me. Seconds later, I hear the door open and slam shut.I pout.What’s his problem?He’s sure acting strange tonight.You’re my wife. No other reason.Who says something like that? I scoff as he rushes back into the living room, taking me by surprise when he grabs my shoulders.“Why
DMITRII guide Ana onto the yacht’s deck, my grip firm on her hand. “Watch your step,” I warn, my voice low and commanding. I’m not used to being gentle, but with her, I find myself adjusting.Her midnight blue dress ripples in the breeze, a stark contrast to the white of the yacht. She moves with a grace that reminds me she’s no stranger to luxury. Of course, she isn’t, she’s Nikolai Petrov’s daughter.“I’m not going to fall,” she laughs softly. “This isn’t my first time on a yacht.”“I know,” I respond curtly, reminding myself of who she is, who I am. This isn’t a fairytale romance, it’s a strategic move. At least, that was the idea.I survey the deck, noting the scattered carnation petals with satisfaction. Everything is precisely as I ordered. I’m a man who demands perfection, even in this.“Carnations?” Ana asks, her voice tinged with surprise.I nod, keeping my face impassive. “Red and white. I assumed you’d had your fill of roses.”A small smile plays on her lips. “You assumed
I never considered myself a saint, but growing up, a part of me hated it when Jayden called the Lord’s name in vain. I was uncomfortable with anyone doing it, and because it felt wrong, it made the hairs on my neck rise, so I’d caution him. But now, I felt nothing but satisfaction as I watched Timur—not hate or caution…justsatisfaction.His gaze faltered, and he leaned against the wall, tugged down the zipper of his pants, and—in a blinding flash—he pulled out his—“Put a finger in your pussy for me,Pchelka.”I couldn’t concentrate, not when he offered me a full big-screen-worthy view of watching him wrap his hand around his veiny hard-on.“Serena.” His commanding voice and the huskiness, combined with the sound of my name, brought me back to focus.On its own accord, my finger moved towhere I badly ached for him, and, like the first time, I slipped inside through my slickness. An involuntary moan left my lips, and my eyes fluttered, but he didn’t even give me a chance.“Eyes on me.”
Through my reflection in the mirror, I watched my cheeks flush a deeper shade of scarlet, and my body tingled in excitement. I didn’t even know when I laughed out loud.What are you thinking, Serena?And yet, despite the million and one reasons I had to desist from taking any step closer to the bed, one reason posed to be the most convincing, forcing me to abandon thoughts about right and wrong until I lay my back on the soft mattress, spread-eagle style:I missed him.“Oh, Serena.” I heard the nerves in my voice and pinned my eyes to the smooth ceiling above me.Clutching the sheets with one hand in a vise grip, I spread my legs wider. The cold air hit my skin, causing goosebumps to rise, and I turned toward the window, only realizing now that a rainstorm had picked up outside. I should have shaken off the stupid idea that brought me to the bed in the first place, got on my feet, and moved to close the shutters. Instead, I pulled the bed covers over my legs and lowered my back into t
SerenaFingering the hem of my dress, I stared at the soft fabric and looked back at the mirror. Blue eyes met mine, golden hair poured below fair shoulders, and I blurred out the image of soft curves and bare hips.Countless times, especially in high school, I’d been called a prude.It wasn’t true. Or maybe it was. I didn’t squeal or gush over pictures of slippery hard abs or full naked men as they did or swooned over R-18 magazines they snuck into class. I couldn’t remember ever being a big fan of nudity, not even where I was concerned. I just didn’t know how to…reactto provocative images or thoughts.Sad, but needless to say, it contributed a lot to my not having many friends.I shook my head in an attempt to get rid of the distracting thoughts. Then, I stared again at the mirror.Throughout everything I’d been through in recent times, I was still me. I was the same person who watched her parents break apart, the same girl who had to step into the shoes of both parents to cater to
TimurThe dreams should have been the first sign. After I noticed that they’d been gone for more than a week, I should have known. Thinking about it now, I almost couldn’t remember the artistic red splash on the wall or the face that owned those lifeless eyes. A new kind of nightmare haunted me. This one was a living nightmare, with perfect lips, perky tits, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Saying I was screwed wasn’t even going to cut it.Fuckedbetter suited the context, and it wasn’t helping that I suddenly remembered Nikolai’s question.Why didn’t I sell her off, leave her in the sea of sharks to feast on? Then, I wouldn’t have to deal with fighting off the provocative images and sounds from my mind that I’d practically guided her to plant there. Her well-being wouldn’t be my fucking business; none of her would concern me. But simply, the thought sent a violent fire that spread up my back, forcing me to straighten up on the chair.My gaze on the desk hardened, and I directed my anger tow
The mirth in his eyes disappeared, replaced by an inferno of undiluted desire. Without looking at me, he recited the third piece of our own secret mantra.“Have me.”The tip of his veiny erection—which was very hard and big—rubbed against my sex before easing into me. My eyes fell shut, shock waves rolling down my body as I tensed, my walls clamping around him.“Fuck…” he cursed, a smooth roll of Russian pouring from between his lips. Almost resisting him, I clenched down on him so tightly, struggling to adjust to his full size, and his jaw flexed. He caressed my bare ass, muttering incoherently in his foreign accent while he squeezed gently.Finally, with gritted teeth and holding back a drop of tears, I relaxed.He watched me, his eyes boring deep into my soul as we moved together. I felt my world shift. I was aware of every gasp, every sigh, every flicker of pleasure that danced between us. I surrendered to the fire that burned brightly within, trusting him to guide me through the
He was all man and no emotions, with a very inviting chest, a chiseled torso, and a mouth that held back nothing. Whenever Jayden cursed, it sounded dirty, but the same words pouring out from this man sent tingles to my toes.Nodding, I gulped. “I understand.”“Want me.” His fingers brushed my cheeks so lightly as his eyes stared into the depth of my soul. “Have me. Need me.Those are the only things I want you to think about. I’ll handle the rest.”Want me.Have me.Need me.I was already breathing fast, and my clothes were still on.This moment between us reminded me of the first time I had welcomed the sixth graders to class. Only now, he felt like the teacher and I, the new student. And this was like class.He was going to handle the rest, he said. All I had to do was immerse myself in the waves of tumultuous passion for thisman, whose gaze licked the length of my body as though it were a delicious lollipop.“Are you okay now?”Startled, I looked back at him, rattled on my rocker t
Then, the moment came.As his lips brushed softly against mine, the kiss was gentle, almost reverent. In that fleeting moment, I felt the wallsof my heart begin to crack, and I wasn’t sure at the time, but something in me wanted more.****We went into the house at separate times for a quick shower and a change into something smoother. Klavdia practically had to force me out of the room when all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep the rest of my life away.He had some of his people set up and organize one of the large halls in the house to be decorated. Before now, I didn’t even know such a chamber existed in the same building, and slowly, it started to sink in, what Klavdia said about being the lady “…of all of this.”I could hardly believe it as I stepped into the grand ballroom. It was jaw-dropping magnificent. The air was thick with the intoxicating blend of expensive cologne and the sweet aroma of floral arrangements. Russian laughter—if there ever was such a thing—and mu
SerenaI didn’t like it.Not the dress, the tears. They just kept rolling freely, and Klavdia had already warned me to wipe them off and not ruin my makeup. Somehow, she reminded me of my grandmother. She died of a stroke when I was six. I didn’t remember much abouther except that she was low-key stuck-up, had long white hair, and never smiled. And she gave great advice, like telling a six-year-old, “Whatever you do, don’t get knocked up before you get married.”Needless to say, years later, I didn’t have to do much to follow that advice.Klavdia seemed like the type, too, but I doubted that we’d ever get to the stage where we’d share bits and pieces of our lives over cups of tea and biscuits, and I’d get to know if she had grandchildren.She also said I wasn’t supposed to let mysoon-to-be husbandsee it. He’d already made it very clear that he found tears sickening.Carefully dabbing the tears off under my eyes, I fixed my mascara and eyeliner, aiming to reappear brand new, like a gif
TimurThe air buzzed with the familiar energy of drunkenness, wasted lives, and ecstasy.The club lights pulsed low, a hum settling over the crowd as we made our way through the reserved spot with “VIPs ONLY” dangling beside the plush red ropes. The place was high-end and sleek in design, with black marble, plush leather seats, and a bar that stretched half the length of the room. Neon blue lights traced along the walls, flashing a glow that glinted off the glassware and tinted everything a cool, metallic hue.One of Rafayel’s contacts owned the club.I nodded, assessing the bubbling life. Not bad.My brother’s laugh cut through the bass-heavy music, and I turned in time to see him share a handshake with Arlo, both of them already in high spirits. I didn’t need either of them to tell me; they’d probably made some stupid bet on something I wasn’t going to bother myself about.Nikolai followed close, his gaze scanning the room—a man with more restraint these days, but still, he’d undoub