But the golden band on Vi’s finger nullified my cravings because she stayed married, which meant she valued her family. And I couldn't claim what didn't belong to me.
I stood because I needed to go, but not before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her murmur stopped me in my tracks. “Radmir.”
Was she dreaming about me? Shaking the thought away, I slipped back into the night, ignoring the pain in my heart and the voice in my head that shouted at me to go back and take them away from this place.
Why I kept torturing myself was beyond me.
Love was supposed to bring out the best in people, but all it gave me was anguish and desperation that transformed me into a stupid sap who couldn't live and function without his woman.
June 2017
Moscow, Russia
Radmir
Exhaling smoke, I sat down on the bumper of my Mercedes as my eyes admired the beautiful architecture in front of me. The house was massive, made out of white marble that shone bright in the morning sun, creating a magical image as though I was on the top of Olympus and about to meet the gods.
Or so was the comparison Vivian had used when I first brought her here.
The huge porch had double swings on both sides. Purple peonies were scattered around, her favorite flowers. The dark brown, oak doors had beautiful gold handles. The house stood in the middle of the property, secluded from neighbors and allowing much-needed privacy. A garden with roses and alcoves covered in a unique design created a sophisticated and luxurious look, which could have been used in magazines advertising the great interior design work.
The Bratva certainly had kept it in good shape. What the fuck was I thinking buying this property? It stood out among Russian houses like a sore thumb. People probably thought I was showing off, when in fact, I just recreated a fucking dream for my woman.
A memory from a long time ago hit me.
“Where are you taking me?” Vivian asked, mischief in her eyes as she nipped my neck while I fucking tried to drive with my raging hard-on.
“Surprise.” My voice was thick with my accent. I couldn't control it when my woman’s hand slid down my chest toward my dick.
Vivian moaned and laced her fingers in my hair right before my foot pressed on the brakes, stopping the car abruptly.
Laughing, she used the opportunity to straddle my hips and our mouths locked in a heated kiss. She rubbed herself on me, and with all the fucking will I possessed, I untangled from her arms as we both breathed heavily. “Krasivoglazaya, the time for this will come later.”
She blinked a few times and then frowned.
“You’re turning me down, willingly?” She picked up my hands and placed them on her hips as she shifted slightly on top of me, bringing her pussy in direct contact with my cock, and a groan escaped me. She bit her lower lip as desire shone for me in her eyes.
Why the fuck would I leave my woman unfulfilled?
“On second thought, it can wait.”
She squealed and then giggled as I flipped her onto the car seat, and we had amazing, wild sex right in the middle of our property. Although she had no clue about it yet.
“Radmir?” Michael’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and by the tone he used, I understood he had called my name a few times. Most of Bratva members tended to stay away from me these days, as my temper was short, and Michael appeared to be the bravest one among them.
Or maybe no one else had his naivety.
“Yeah?”
He extended the folder in his hand to me. “Vitya asked me to give it to you.” He removed the sunglasses as he scanned the property and whistled loudly. “Quite the house you have. Nice.” Then he flashed me a grin as his brows wiggled up and down. “Planning on running around this place naked?” Then he laughed at his own joke, slapping his knee.
Michael had his moments, and given the fact Dominic had brought him here when he was a teenager, I was tolerant of him. He was roaming the streets of Irkutsk, selling his body for food when Bratva took him under their wing. The guy couldn’t shoot or tolerate violence, so he became a sort of personal assistant to pakhan. The job sounded lame as fuck and was probably created for him alone as Dom held a special spot for him in his heart. Somehow ruining his bubbly moments seemed almost cruel, so I let it slide.
Apparently, I fucking let everything slide lately. Looking through the folder, I studied the photos of Vivian and Jake in the park, galleries, and hockey games. She had quite an active life with her kid. No girl nights out or close friendships though, as if life outside being a mom didn’t exist for her. Frowning, I wondered why the fuck the photographer always took the shots of the kid from behind or on the side, never fully showing Jake’s face.
Then I froze as my hands squeezed the papers tightly, looking at the picture of her smiling to the camera with Alex Jordan hugging her gently during the charity event in New York.
Although she didn’t seem happy, she was comfortable enough to let him hold her as if she was the most precious thing to him. And why wouldn't he? He was her husband after all. He had all the fucking rights.
