I don’t want to go back to Russia.
I don’t want to keep doing this.
I don’t want to put on the leather gloves and beat down the men whom I called friends.
There’s another life for me.
One where I can trust the people around me, and I don’t need to jump at shadows. One where I am not feared, but respected.
One where the only pain I give is controlled and designed to pleasure my partner.
I let out a soft laugh. “I am realizing, I want to start new too.”
Micah pulls back enough to look at me. “What does that mean?” he asks.
“I’m quitting my job.” I think about Dronov and what his reaction would be, and I shake my head. “No. I can’t quit. They wouldn’t allow it. But I’ll step aside. Reduce my role. I’ll keep the restaurant, but no more of the rest. Boris can handle things.”
Micah’s eyes are wide. “What if they don’t let that happen?” he asks, clinging to me. “I… don’t know a lot about the mafia, but it doesn’t seem like they’d let you walk away from any of it.” His eyes are intent upon mine. “You’re already in enough trouble, Ilya.”
“There are ways,” I assure him. “It helps that I’m here in America and not at home. Maybe I can ask some of my American friends to help, too.”
If I have Silvano Cresci’s support, that would go a long way. And he has connections to the Voronkovs, who are still influential in Russia. More Moscow based, but it wouldn’t hurt.
I lean in for a kiss, and Micah meets me there, eagerly opening for me.
I sigh against his lips. “I’ll make it work. For myself. But…” I give him a gentle smile. “I hope you would stay with me for it.”
“I want to,” he says. He swallows hard. “But I broke your trust, Ilya. I messed up, and I messed up big. Can you really forgive that?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” I say with conviction. “You were trying to survive. If anything, I should earn your trust. I am barely better than that asshole.”
Micah’s eyes flick past me to the crumpled heap of Adam’s body. “Maybe to other people,” he says slowly. “But to me… You’re nothing like him. I know that’s naive and stupid, but I knowyourheart.”
I smile at him and take his hand into mine. “Thank you.” I lift his hand up so I can kiss his knuckles. “I will prove I am worthy of you, Mishka.”
Micah blushes deep red. “There’s nothing to prove,” he mumbles.
I’m about to respond when somebody coughs.
I turn to glare at Boris standing in the bedroom doorway.
“It’s important moment,” I complain. “Go away.”
Boris shrugs. “The clean-up crew’s here. You should both shower. Not together.” He waves to Micah. In English, he says, “Hello. I’m Boris. Nice to meet you.”
Micah smiles tentatively at him, and I help him to his feet. “Hi, Boris. I’m Micah. It’s nice to meet you, too.” His smile falters, and I can see how carefully he’s avoiding looking at Adam’s body.
“Boris says we must shower, but not together,” I translate for Micah.
Micah laughs and blushes. “I don’t think we’d both fit in the shower anyway.”
I ruffle his hair. “You go first. I’ll help clean here.”
He nods and gets a change of clothes from the closet before heading into the bathroom. I hear the shower start right away, and I turn to Boris.
“How much did you overhear?” I ask.
“I caught the thing about you quitting.” Boris gives me a hard look. “Are you sure? Dronov isn’t going to bethatnice about it.”
