Lev leads me back upstairs and out. It’s the first time I’m alone with someone who isn’t Roman and I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure if he speaks much English, apart from what he said to me yesterday.
He moves quickly to his car, opening the back door. “Sit, Roman’s girl. It’s too cold for you to wait outside.”
I slide into the seat, surprised by the warmth. “So um… I have a name,” I say quietly, telling him in Russian.
He slides into the driver’s seat but keeps his door partially open. “It’s good that you learn the language of your new home.”
“Did Roman tell you how long I’ve been here?”
“He did. It’s also good what Roman is in there doing.”
“What do you think he’s doing?”
Lev eyes me in the rearview mirror. “You want to know how Roman kills?”
My cheeks burn. I look away, breaking eye contact and wondering if it was a weird thing to ask. “No.” I mumble. “I guess I don’t.”
Lev continues to stare through the mirror. “It’s okay. I’ll tell you. This is personal for Roman. It will not be quick. He won’t use a gun. Maybe his hands or a knife. Roman likes hisknife. He will make sure his father suffers and he will sit and watch him die.”
Lev tears his gaze away from me, picks up his phone, and starts scrolling as if we just discussed the weather. We sit for the rest of the time in silence. I’m not sure how much time passes until I see Roman walking toward us.
I step out of Lev’s car, watching as Roman gives him a nod. Lev immediately pulls out his phone again, already texting. Silently, I follow Roman back to his car. He opens the passenger door of his sedan, his features closed off.
I climb in, making sure to stay quiet. He gets in the driver’s side and pulls away, without saying a word to me.
I don't push or ask any questions. Obviously, I know he’s not some hero. I’m not blind to the fact that he’s killed a lot of people and his hands will forever be stained with blood, but this is different. He killed his father and I have no idea how he’s dealing with it.
Roman parks underground beneath a modern high-rise. We both get out and he speaks. “I have a private entrance around the corner.”
“This is where you live? Your actual apartment?”
“Yeah.”
I follow him into the elevator, watching him press his thumb to the panel. It responds immediately, taking us up to the top floor and directly into the most luxurious apartment I’ve ever seen. There’s glass from the floor to the ceiling overlooking a river.
He runs a hand through his hair and stares out across the glass, past me. “I need a shower,” he mutters. “I need to get this off me.” He starts taking off his clothes right there. The jacket and the vest underneath fall to the floor with a heavy thud. He disappears down the hallway and seconds later I hear the shower. I follow the sound, seeing he left the door open. Steam billows in the shower, fogging the glass, but itdoesn’t hide the deep purple bruises across his ribs, where the vest stopped the bullets but couldn’t prevent the marks from the impact.
He stands under the spray with his head bowed, hands braced against the tile. Every muscle in his body appears tense and tightly wound.
I strip and step in behind him, placing a kiss on his shoulder. He turns, facing me and I take his hands, staring at them, knowing what they’ve done. I kiss the back of them, then wash his shoulders, his arms, his hands.
I move around to wash his chest, working my way lower, down his stomach, stopping when I see his cock. Roman is hard and aroused with all that adrenaline and violence still coursing through him with nowhere to go.
I turn around, flattening my hands against the tile and arching my back. For a moment nothing happens. He stands there and all I can feel is his presence behind me, dominant and dangerous. Suddenly, his hands close around my hips, hard, his fingers digging into me.
He enters me in one brutal thrust. My lips part, a loud gasp escaping me. It almost feels like the first time, my body struggling to take all of him. He doesn't wait for me to adjust this time. Roman pulls back almost all the way out only to slam back in so deep it feels like the breath’s been knocked out of me.
Over and over, he pounds into me, each thrust harder than the last. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. It hurts. He’s so deep it feels like he’s trying to split me open. This has nothing to do with pleasure. This is him using me, showing dominance and taking what he needs with no restraint or gentleness.
I don't tell him to stop.
His hand slides up my spine, grabbing the back of my neck. He holds me in place, pinning me while driving intome again and again. His voice is low and rough against my ear, grating something in Russian. I don't understand the words, but I understand the tone. They’re possessive, angry and threatening. It feels like he’s claiming me, branding me, making sure I know exactly who I belong to. A dangerous man who just took a criminal empire by force.
Yet, I'm the one he comes back to. I'm the only one who will ever see this side of him and give him what he needs.
He pulls out almost completely, barely inside me but making me wait. He’s forcing me to feel the torturous emptiness. When I think I can’t take it any longer, Roman shoves his cock back in, so hard my mouth flies open. I cry out, whimpering as my hands slip on the wet tile. He doesn't let up, if anything he goes harder. Faster even, moving his hand from my neck to wrap around my throat from behind. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there, letting me feel his strength, knowing he could do anything he wanted to me right now and there’s nothing I could do about it.
His lips brush my ear, his tone harsh. "You're mine." He thrust so rough, I’m gasping. "Only mine."
