Chapter Thirteen

THIRTEEN

"It's important that I disclose as much about myself to you as possible," Maestro said. "I know you're wondering why I'm so fucked up."

Azelie's eyes widened. "I don't think you're…well…messed up."

Maestro had to smile. How could he not? Most girls had no problem using foul language. It was second nature to him. It was to the other club members. Only Preacher was careful with his language because he had always looked after Lana, his younger sister, but even Preacher swore sometimes. Maestro thought it was hilarious that his woman couldn't say fuck .

He brought her palm to his thigh again and slid his thumb over the back of her hand, maintaining contact. "I don't talk to anyone about my past. I don't think it serves much purpose, but you're committing to us, willing to build a relationship with me. That means you hear about my past. I'm warning you, like yours, it isn't pretty."

He'd mentioned his mother's betrayal and briefly spoken of the school he'd been taken to, but there was no way she could understand him if he didn't give her the entire story. It wouldn't be fair to her if he didn't give her something of himself. She deserved to know whatever he could share with her.

His thumb slid over the back of her hand a second time. "I'm saying again, baby, the things done to me in my past aren't for the faint of heart. If you'd prefer me to stay silent on the subject, I'm down with that, but understanding me will take some serious work."

"I want to know whatever you're willing to share with me, Andrii."

Bog. Those eyes of hers. He could stare into them every day and never get enough. Drown in them. He saw that look on her face and wanted to keep it there forever. No one had ever looked at him like that in his life. He saw the beginnings of love in her eyes. It was there, stark and real—for him. He didn't deserve that emotion from her, but he was determined to work every day to make himself into a better man for her.

"I told you my mother sold me so she could get her drugs." He found himself doing what was natural, what he'd trained himself to do from a very early age—distancing himself from the story he was telling her. He did so when he lived through it and whenever his mind insisted on returning to those memories. Mostly, he had closed that door and refused to open it. For her, he would.

Azelie deserved to know exactly what she would be dealing with. He understood her trauma even more than she realized. His club had researched her very carefully. Code was thorough. She didn't have that same advantage when it came to him. She would have to rely on whatever he chose to tell her. Maestro wanted her to know him intimately. To be able to accept him as he was, flaws and all. That didn't mean he wouldn't keep trying to overcome his failings, but he wanted—even needed—acceptance from her.

"What I didn't tell you is that I was barely able to walk when she started using me to get what she wanted. She had a sister, my aunt Anna, who was a year older. I thought Anna really cared about me. She fought with my mother all the time and eventually gave my mother money to allow Anna to keep me. That's when my life really turned into a nightmare."

Azelie gasped, her eyes widening with shock. "Both your mother and aunt?" She whispered it as if the treachery of their betrayal was too much to believe.

Maestro had watched Zelie for weeks before he made his move on her. She had been drawn to children. Laughing with them, playing, watching over them. Children who weren't even hers. It hadn't mattered to her. As a mother, she would be a fierce little thing, protecting her children—and him—with everything in her.

At first, he hadn't believed. He'd looked for ulterior motives. No woman could ever be that filled with sunshine, enough that she shared her light with everyone she came across. She seemed to look after the older people in the coffeehouse. She was the same with the owners. She nurtured others. Soothed them. Brought them serenity.

He knew she didn't see herself like that, a woman others gravitated toward. Since she'd lost her family, she held part of herself aloof. Because she was a naturally giving person, it made her feel guilty that she didn't give all of herself to others. Reporters and police had made her leery of sharing her story with anyone. He didn't think she realized just how much of herself she did give. The peace she brought people. The joy. The sunshine.

Billows was addicted to her. He might be a moody bastard, and it may have taken him time to realize she'd grown up, but he didn't want to give her up. Now that Azelie was in college full-time and around more men, it had probably occurred to Billows he might lose her. That didn't sit well, so he did what he always did—threatened and bullied to get his way.

Maestro realized threatening Azelie wasn't the best way to get her attention. If Billows had taken the time to get to know her, he would see bullying her would never work. Billows was used to dismissing women, using them for his business to make a crapload of money. Any man involved in human trafficking had zero respect for women. Having Billows' attention centered on Azelie was extremely dangerous for her. Having his man, McGrady, watching her every move was becoming annoying. Maestro intended to make certain Billows wanted to get rid of his spy.

"Andrii, you don't have to continue if the memories are too painful," she said softly.

He realized he'd taken too long with his introspection. He bunched her hair in his fist and tugged until she leaned closer to him. "I learned at a very young age not to believe anything a woman told me. My aunt had a business, and she was very sadistic. Her friends were sadistic. She pretended that she would take care of me and even went so far as to tell me how terrible my mother was, but she was far worse."

Her eyes went liquid. For him. Those tears were real on his behalf. She shook her head. "That's so wrong. A mother is supposed to protect and care for her children. Your aunt should have too. I don't blame you for not believing in women."

"Had it ended there, I may have survived intact." He doubted it, but who knew what little kids blocked out? Being sold to pedophiles? He didn't think so, but he wasn't around children other than Czar's and Steele's. Every one of Czar's children had been rescued from a trafficking ring or pedophile. They were traumatized but working their way through it. Steele's son had been kidnapped and subjected to beatings at a very early age. He had escaped the worst of what could have happened because the club was able to rescue him. He didn't point out that Azelie's drunken mother hadn't taken care of her either. She didn't need that reminder; he knew she was very aware of it.

"My aunt supplied children to a man named Sorbacov. He was very high up in the government. He worked for the president and wielded a great deal of power. He was married and had children. Few knew of his proclivities, including the fact that like my aunt, he was a sadist. I was too young to recognize what a sadist was. I only knew they hurt me, and I couldn't trust any of them."

"Andrii," she whispered his name, a small sob in her voice. She tightened her fingers on his thigh.

He needed that reassurance from her. Her touch kept him anchored in reality. He didn't slip back into those childhood memories of pure torture. He stayed disconnected from the past and remained with her—with Azelie. His light in the interminable darkness he had lived in for so long.

"Sorbacov must have felt Anna was too greedy. Whatever the reason, he summoned my mother and Anna to a meeting and offered to purchase me from them. I could hear lies by that time. I was very young, but I already had that gift, mostly from self-preservation, not because I was so talented. I didn't understand what he wanted from them or from me, but I knew that he wasn't telling them the truth. I should have tried to warn them, but I knew if I opened my mouth I would have been beaten severely."

"What terrible people. Seriously, Andrii, all three of them should have been executed on the spot."

He liked that she didn't say she thought they deserved to go to prison. She wanted them wiped off the face of the earth—just as he had wanted. He'd been five and already he knew suffering, betrayal, torture and death. He wanted all of them gone.

"My mother was quite willing to sell me again. Anna, not so much. I was worth more being sold daily than for just a onetime fee. My mother argued that I belonged to her, that I was hers to sell, and Anna should have nothing to do with the transaction. We were already at the school, although I had no idea what it was. Sorbacov had insisted the women meet him there."

"The school where he raised you to be an assassin?"

He nodded. "Not just me. I wasn't the only child there by a long shot. On the outside, the house appeared to be a huge mansion. The room where Sorbacov took us for the meeting was opulent, the furniture red-and-black velvet with gold braiding. I remember that very distinctly. Sorbacov had several men in the room with him. They were standing along the walls. He often had those men with him. They were quite brutal and thought nothing of raping women or children, both male and female. I didn't understand why my mother and aunt didn't realize they were in danger. The men were smirking. I could smell their arousal. By that time, even at that age, I knew all about sex."

Her long lashes fluttered, catching tears. She shook her head. "Rape, maybe, but not sex," she clarified.

He tried not to wince when she laid it out for him, showing him she understood what he was conveying to her. Using the term rape , while it was accurate, didn't sit well with him. Not when it was coming out of his woman's mouth. No man wanted his woman to associate him with pedophiles and rape in his past. He wanted to appear tough and capable, masculine and strong, to her.

Maestro forced himself to get beyond his protest. She was right to call it rape, but he didn't like it. He thought it best to ignore the definition and just continue telling her about his past before he shut down.

"Sorbacov whispered to me not to worry, that no matter what the lying women said, he wouldn't allow them to keep me. Even then I knew he was a liar. He was sadistic. He wanted me for the exact same reasons that my mother and aunt did. I had no worth as a person, only as a child to torture or have sex with. The women using me were every bit as bad as the men. Sometimes crueler—much, much crueler."

A small frown appeared. "In what way?"

"They would pretend to be motherly or sweet. They would promise to help get me out of Sorbacov's school. Several of them were that way. I wanted to believe them, so when I was a little kid, I did. They found it funny that I would be punished by Sorbacov for falling for a woman's lie. It always earned me whippings and beatings. They took special delight in that."

Azelie pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes. "It's hard to imagine you escaped intact. What truly despicable people."

"I wish I could tell you it ended there, but my nightmare was just beginning at that school. As I grew up, I was trained to be an assassin for the government. Mostly, that meant I was Sorbacov's private assassin. If he didn't like someone's politics, he sent one of us. I wasn't the only child there. Along with learning languages and how to kill, we were all subjected to a multitude of sexual practices and expected to be proficient in all of them. We had to be in total control of our bodies as well as those of our partners. The idea was to seduce our targets."

Something elusive flashed across her face, into her eyes, and he just managed to restrain himself from cursing.

"I know how that sounds, Solnyshkuh . I know how you could interpret what I just said, especially since you're concerned that I'm here for Billows and not you."

She wasn't going to reply. He could see the conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe him, but he was asking a lot of her. He knew that.

"Baby, I only have the truth to give you. The truth of who and what I am. The last thing I want to do is come clean and have you change that expression on your face when you're looking at me."

Her long lashes fluttered, and he got that look—the one he was beginning to crave. He needed her to view him in that light. To see under all the bullshit Sorbacov and his cronies had heaped on him, shaping him into a mistrustful, lethal misogynist. He needed her to find good in him, to believe in him. She was someone worthwhile. She'd suffered the ultimate betrayal, and she still had a light shining so bright in her she could light up the world.

He bent forward to cup her cheek again, his thumb sliding over the bow of her mouth, over those silky lips. "If there is such a thing as loving someone, if that emotion is real, I feel it for you. I want you to think the best of me, not know the worst. I was betrayed over and over. I know exactly what it feels like, and I have no intention of ever betraying you."

"I don't know what to say to you, Andrii. Your life seems so harsh."

He heard the compassion in her voice—also the trepidation. She was intelligent and she knew there was no getting over what he'd experienced. It would always color his life. Without warning, his need for reassurance, control and obedience might spring up at any moment.

"What happened to your mother and aunt? Did Sorbacov pay them off?"

He had half hoped she wouldn't ask. He would never forget what Sorbacov had done to his mother and aunt. They were despicable women, but they didn't deserve Sorbacov's lesson in what women should be used for. Especially lying women, as he named them.

"Sorbacov loved to play with people and their emotions. It gave him great joy to watch others suffer. If there is such a thing as the ultimate sadist, it was Sorbacov. He wanted to see how long he could deceive someone. How many times they would let him go back on his word and then believe him again."

Azelie frowned. "Adults continued to fall for his lies even after he'd proved himself a liar?"

She sounded so shocked that Maestro knew immediately she had that built-in radar now. She'd most likely always had a warning system but had developed it much faster and sharper after Quentin had murdered her family. That would be a challenge. He knew the old adage "once bitten, twice shy" applied. He'd had chunks torn out of him, and he would forever look for betrayal. He would have to carefully go over every word he said if he had to dodge her questions, make certain he never lied to her. He might get away with the sin of omission but not an outright lie.

Trust was everything between them. He was so concerned about betrayal he wanted to control their relationship—and her—in the hopes it could never happen. But he was in the position of committing a massive betrayal. She already suspected he had approached her to watch Billows.

She didn't realize he was after a specific item, her key to the underground offices. If she was aware he planned to search her backpack for the necklace holding that key, he knew she would view that as a betrayal. He wasn't certain how to get around that. He wanted to tell her the mission. He was sure she would go along with it, but he couldn't pull her out and hide her in a safe house without tipping Billows off that something was radically wrong. If he told her, she would have to act like nothing was wrong. She already was having a difficult time.

"Andrii?" She said his name, a gentle inquiry.

"Sorbacov didn't just deceive adults. His main targets were children. How many times they would rat on others. How many times, even after he refused to release them after his promises, they would believe him. That was the kind of shit he lived for. He did it every single day. No matter how many times I warned my female partners not to believe him, not to do as he said, they would tell him. Report me to him. I was trying to help them, stupid little girls who were desperate for Sorbacov's favor. I didn't deceive them, but it was him they trusted."

For the first time, he didn't sound distant from the past. He sounded bitter. He tasted bitter ashes in his mouth. Memories flooded his mind, sickening him. He broke out in a sweat. His skin felt clammy, yet he was hot—both symptoms that told him he was too close to the triggers that made him so dangerous at times.

"Honey." Azelie's fingers bit into his thigh muscle. "Just breathe. That's what I do. That's what you tell me to do. Just breathe through it. We can stop right here. I don't need to know any more."

Azelie was intelligent enough to know it was impossible to fake post-traumatic stress, not when the symptoms were physical. But he worried it was just another way he would appear weak to her. She needed a strong man. Showing this side of himself could blow his chances, when he thought telling her about his past would help her to understand why he was so strange.

He forced himself to look down into her upturned face. Heat blossomed, spread through him. She was looking back at him with that expression he craved in her eyes. He didn't understand why or how that could be when he looked weak, but it was there. Adoration. Something close to love. Whatever connection they had wasn't just physical. He was betting his life on that.

"You can't look at me like that, Solnyshkuh , or we're going to end up back in bed. Right at this moment, I want you more than my next breath." That was the raw truth, and she had to hear it in his voice. She had to understand what she meant to him. "I don't know how to say the right words to you. I can lie to you. I had the best teacher in how to deceive, but telling the truth to the one person who matters is more difficult than anything I've ever done."

Maestro took her face between his hands. That face that was already more necessary to him than breathing. He was addicted to that look. He ran his thumb over her full, inviting lips. A faint smile curved her mouth beneath the light pressure of his thumb.

"I already let myself go a little crazy once. I'm not doing that again."

He couldn't help but smile. In the midst of a bad moment, she could shine her light on him and change his world.

"I think we're going to do that a lot, Solnyshkuh ." He used his most compelling, velvet voice and watched the little shiver go through her with satisfaction. No matter how many alarms she tried to heed, she was very susceptible to him and their chemistry. He wanted everything between them to be real, so he was doing his best to give her what he could of himself, but he had a certain expertise, and as far as he was concerned, using it was fair. And they'd both reap the benefits.

"You think you have a poker face, Andrii, but I'm reading you right now. You're going to use sex to get your way, just because you know I can't resist you."

He brought the tips of her fingers to his mouth and bit down gently, enjoying the way her eyes went wide and goose bumps leapt over her skin. She could take away every nightmare and replace them with her . Her laughter. Her wide-eyed wonder. Her generosity and compassion.

"I absolutely intend to use every weapon in my arsenal to seduce you into choosing me for your lifelong partner. I'm not fucking around with you. I mean to do exactly what I'm telling you, so be warned."

Another shiver went through her body and her long lashes fluttered. "Unfortunately, I think you're up to the task."

His smile started somewhere deep as he quirked one eyebrow at her. " Unfortunately? "

"Yes, unfortunately. That means whenever you want your way, you're going to get it. That makes you spoiled."

"Think of all the pleasure you're going to have when I'm seducing you to get my way."

She gave a little shake of her head. "You're impossible. You have not one iota of remorse, do you?"

"Nope. Not if anything I do ensures I have you with me."

Azelie laughed. The sound hit him right in his heart. His chest ached and he rubbed his palm over the spot. He leaned in to take her mouth. That perfect mouth that sent roaring flames down his throat. That could be sweet with strawberries and honey or fiery like whiskey. No matter how reluctant her brain was feeling in that moment, when his lips touched hers, she gave him everything. Surrendered completely.

He lifted her and carried her right back to the bed. He needed to be inside her, connected with her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, all the while giving him her mouth. Somewhere in between taking off what little clothing she was wearing and stripping himself as well, as he kissed his way down her body, he realized she was giving him another gift. She had concerns about the two of them, about him. What he was. Why he was with her. Valid concerns. She'd decided no sex until she felt more comfortable with who he was, yet she was giving him this. It wasn't because of his expertise; it was because she knew he needed her.

Bog , his woman. He understood how the men in his club could become total pussies when it came to their women. Azelie could rip out his heart anytime she wanted. He didn't fuck her. He made love to her, making every single touch, every stroke, count. He wanted her to feel his love. Feel everything he felt for her.

"Do you understand, Solnyshkuh ? Do you know what I'm saying to you?"

He threaded his fingers through hers and pinned her hands to the mattress on either side of her head as he moved in her. Long, slow, burning strokes. Each time he surged into her, fire raced up his spine and spread through his belly.

Azelie had tears in her eyes. Her teeth bit into her lower lip, and she nodded, not taking her gaze from his. He felt as if he were looking into her soul. Into the very essence of who she was. He saw her, this miracle that had been handed to him in the worst of circumstances.

"I understand what love is for the first time in my life." He kept moving, giving them both that slow-burning fire that seemed to roll them both in flames. Burning them together. Welding them until the ties were woven so tight, they would never loosen.

"Andrii," she whispered his name, her fingers tightening in his. Her blue eyes looking directly into his. She never winced from the raw intimacy. She held his gaze, allowing her to look inside him, just as he was looking into her.

"I mean it, Azelie. You've given me what I never had before, not one time, not from anyone. My brothers and sisters love me in their way. They're just as screwed up as I am. Victor tried to tell me. Hell, even Savin, a brother, tried to warn me I didn't know what the hell I was talking about half the time. I just couldn't get it. I didn't feel it, until you."

Maestro kissed her chin, nipped with his teeth, and then lifted his body enough to once again look into her eyes. "All the beauty that is Azelie Vargas is mine. All for me. Never had a fucking thing worthwhile until I bought my first motorcycle."

All the while he murmured to her, his body glided, cock pulsing with his heartbeat, surrounded by her. "I don't ever have experiences like this," he murmured, unable to look away from her blue gaze. "Never believed in heaven, baby. Lived in hell."

"Honey."

The blue deepened in her eyes, showing him more of the emotion she felt for him. Crazy. Impossible. He wasn't worth it. He never would be. He knew himself. He knew the results of lifelong betrayal were ingrained in him, a part of his makeup. He would forever be looking, maybe unconsciously, but no matter how hard he tried—and he'd try—he would fuck up and accuse her of things she didn't do.

He loathed himself. His tendency to mistrust everyone. His inability to understand his brethren when they consistently gave in to their women in situations Maestro deemed too dangerous. He'd never been hesitant about voicing his opinion, one that he now understood was absurd. Still, he would always need Azelie to listen to him when it came to matters of her safety.

He heard himself groan, and the affection in her gaze deepened even more.

"Didn't know angels were real. Met a few good women when my brothers found the ones for them, but I still didn't get it."

"I'm no angel." Her voice was breathless. Gasping. The slow burn was turning into a wildfire for the both of them. Her fingers locked tighter in his. "You want me to see you as you are, you need to see the reality of me."

He was looking at the reality. Feeling her. Seeing her. She just didn't see herself the way he did. The fire was burning out of control, and he couldn't stop his body from reacting. Glides turned to surges. Hot streaks of lightning arcing between them.

Her lips parted. Lashes fluttered, concealing that look of heated desire mixed with the look he craved. Needed. Would give his last breath to see.

"Look at me, baby. Keep looking at me." He made it an order.

Her lashes lifted instantly, her gaze meeting his. He knew she would give him what he asked for. That was Azelie and why she was so perfect for him.

"You're my angel, perfection to me," he said. " Mine. Made for me."

With every powerful surge of his hips, her body rose to meet his. It felt as if she had been made for him, that they fit exactly. Every movement built the fire higher. Sent streaks of flames and vivid sparks of electricity rushing through his bloodstream. Looking into her eyes made for an even more intimate experience.

"Then you're mine," she whispered back.

His heart clenched hard in his chest. She had no idea how completely and utterly hers he was. Then it was impossible to talk. He couldn't think. The beauty of the experience and the overwhelming pleasure robbed him of his ability to do anything but get lost in her body. He took her much harder now, rocking them both.

"Not yet," he bit out, not wanting to lose the miracle of her body. Of their physical connection. He kept moving through the hot, slick silk, so tight he was strangled. A vise that clamped down like the tightest fist imaginable, stroking and squeezing, a fiery tango that had his cock jerking and pulsing as he drove into that scorching heat.

There was no holding back a wildfire, not when it burned so hot and out of control. They started slow but ended up consumed by the flames. Maestro collapsed over her, his body entirely blanketing hers. She felt small and utterly feminine, her heart wild, her body rippling with aftershocks as they both fought for air.

He was too heavy to blanket her the way he was, but it didn't stop him from sinking his teeth into her shoulder, marking her and then soothing the small bite with his tongue. Her body reacted with another rolling aftershock, gripping his cock, giving him more of her paradise.

It took effort to withdraw, the movement sending another wave of shuddering pleasure through him. He rolled off her, keeping one arm around her waist to hold her to him.

"Damn, baby, any better and I'm not going to survive."

He got her soft laughter, a little breathless, but that only added to the music. His gaze moved possessively over her face. "So beautiful. Bog. I look at you. I'm surrounded by you. I still can't believe you're real."

"I could pinch you," she offered.

The laughter in her blue gaze was contagious. That in itself was beautiful to him. That he could have these moments of intimacy mixed with humor and fun shocked him.

"I'd much rather you kiss me."

"Kissing you gets me in trouble," she pointed out, sounding more amused than ever.

"I think it's the other way around." He gave her the truth, although he was certain she didn't understand. That was perfectly fine with him. He didn't need her to know she would always have all the power in their relationship.

"You're going to have to go. I'm not moving," Azelie told him. "I would love for you to stay and chat, but I'm too tired. I'm going to just lie here and contemplate what an idiot I am for letting you distract me from our meaningful conversation."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "We were having a meaningful conversation? Really? I thought you were attempting to find reasons not to be with me."

The blue of her eyes softened, amusement mixing with the beginnings of love. She wasn't all the way in yet. Reservations were still there, but that only affirmed his judgment that she was intelligent. Despite the overwhelming chemistry and the pull between them, because of her nature and his, she was still struggling with self-preservation. She understood he was totally fucked up and would, at times, be hell to live with.

"I don't have to find reasons not to be with you; just your views on punishment are enough to make me run the opposite way," she murmured. "Fortunately for you, I'm too tired to move."

He laughed. Not a smirk or a smile, an actual laugh. He wound his arm around her waist and tugged until her body was tight against his. "That is fortunate. I'm not leaving tonight. I think spending the night right here is best. That way whenever your fucked-up mind tells you I'm not good for you, I can kiss that thought away."

She giggled. It was a real girlish giggle that sent little sparks of joy streaking through him. He hadn't realized how much he needed laughter and joy in his life. It felt as if she gave him gift after gift.

"Your kisses are always going to lead to other things. And you can't stay."

"Those other things kissing leads to are good, and you like them."

"I love them, but that only means you get your way."

Her voice was drowsy. Sexy. Impossibly, his body stirred in response.

"You're going to love all the other things I'm going to be doing to you. We're just getting started. You might not mind me getting my way when I'm making you say my name."

Her lashes lifted and he found himself looking directly into her eyes again. So blue. So filled with laughter and that look of near adoration.

"Don't be so sure. You're already going to get your way because I like giving you everything. I don't need you adding to my problem."

He lifted his eyebrow at her again. "Problem? You think it's a problem that you want to give me everything I want from you?"

"You're already arrogant and demanding. Can you imagine how much worse you're going to get if I spoil you?"

He brushed his lips down her cheek to her chin. "No one has ever spoiled me, so no, I have no idea how much worse I can get." He inhaled her scent and then grinned at her.

Her eyes closed again, and she snuggled into him as she gave an exaggerated sigh. "I guess we're going to find out, then. As much as I want to wake up to you, you can't stay. Billows sends a man to watch me. I don't know why he started doing that, but he threatened any man I might date. His man can't see you."

Andrii couldn't help loving the little command in her voice. She was sleepy, exhausted, probably a little freaked out, yet she was looking after him. He was staying, and not just because he needed to search her backpack for the necklace with the chip that opened the door leading to the offices and possibly to rooms where women were held and trained as sex slaves. He wanted to wake her up in the middle of the night. He wanted to spend the night breathing her in. Feeling her next to him.

"Need to take care of you before we both fall asleep. I told you, leave Billows' man to me. He'll never see me."

She didn't hear him; she was already asleep.