While the apartment was small, she’d managed to make everything appear organized, including the workspace she’d crammed into half the room. With deliberate steps, I headed to the drawings pinned to an oversized bulletin board. She’d turned her love of art into designing fashion and from what little I knew about the artistry, she was very talented.
My cock ached in a way that hadn’t occurred in years, my balls tightening as images of her face flashed through my mind, one right after another.
The same desire I’d felt for her from before had resurfaced. So much so that the idea of stalking her somehow seemed normal.
At least to a man who was about to reclaim his old life.
In the three days I’d remained in Russia, I’d gotten caught up on details, and had done some research on her father and the connection he had with the Pollizi Cosa Nostra. In my mind, I’d found the betrayer in the Don I’d met with only moments before my spiral into hell had begun.
However, there were a few nagging questions that I hoped I’d be able to answer prior to returning to Moscow. While I realized Demarco had once been considered the most dangerous and ruthless killer in all of Italy, he was in his late sixties and from what Kirill had told me, unwell.
Old men facing death were usually easier to interrogate. If after spending some time with him he didn’t want to talk, I’d simply cut out his tongue so he could never speak to anyone again. And if the mood struck, I’d carve out his heart. That remained to be seen.
First things first.
My possessive nature refused to allow me to leave the lovely woman I’d deflowered alone. Maybe all the images and thoughts of her festering in my mind had turned my desire into an obsession. Honestly, that was fine with me. She’d wanted a taste. Now I would return the favor.
Cautiously.
She was still a potential enemy, although I knew for certain she hadn’t lied about her age. I was very surprised she’d been allowed to remain in Paris for this long and without guards.
That could mean she’d made a deal with her father. She’d tried to gather information out of me, pushing me to tell her things. I hoped that wasn’t the case. At this point, I couldn’t be certain of anything.
With one exception. I wasn’t the kind of man who could turn his back on something so fragile and so very beautiful.
The obsession had continued, still flowing strongly within my bloodstream.
What little I’d been able to find about her life drew several red flags, including why the fuck she wasn’t being guarded. As the daughter of a mafia enforcer, she should have around the clock protection. Or she should be married by now, her father making good on the threat he’d issued years before. Maybe the deal had been to allow her to graduate, but from what I’d read about her father, he wasn’t a man prone to making any deals.
She was a beautiful, talented young woman embarking on the very life she’d discussed with me. Yet lurking in the darkness was the knowledge that Giovanni was losing both respect and power.
There were several crime syndicates strewn throughout Italy. They all believed they should be top dog, infighting over the last two decades keeping any from taking the top-level position or being a real threat to the Bratva, the Irish, or even the American mafia.
Now, with some bad decisions and the fact Don Pollizi had no heirs, he was facing overthrow if not worse. That’s why his alliance with my family had been important to him. So why betray the family?
What I did suspect was that with his alliance with my brother as Pakhan, the wolves had been kept at bay, but an influx of heirs was needed in the future. There were other Italian mafia families with growing families, the younger men in power gaining power by their alliances as well as expanding their territories. The Pollizi family remained old school, their wealth dwindling. Why not just insist on a marriage between me and Rafaela? Unless Giovanni had already promised her to someone else, the meeting was just a way of keeping us under control. What had the other Russian Bratva families offered? Other than a promise they’d split half the territory once we’d been destroyed.
A ploy from the gilded age of crime syndicates. Something for me to keep in the back of my mind. I hated wondering if Mikhail had fallen prey to a ruse as old as time, but it was possible.
There was also another nagging thought in my mind that wouldn’t be answered until I returned to Moscow.
At this point, I could use the lovely Rafaela to my advantage if I so wanted.
Perhaps I would.
There were ways of doing so, all of which I’d consider.
Another taste might be in order.
In coming here, the desires I’d put to bed after waking up in the prison had resurfaced with a vengeance. It had taken significant control to keep her from seeing me. The unexpected surprise of her walking the runway had almost brought my reappearance to light. And with Golden walking the runway with her, the pup had sensed me within seconds.
Had I thought about confronting her? Yes, but everything needed to fall into place first.
Then I would.
The ache in my balls only continued to grow.
A laugh bubbled to the surface. I guess all the effort I’d put into thinking of her as my enemy had only increased the longing.
