Chapter 17 - Rodion

Ever since the message from Anya, I have been distracted and continuously glancing at my watch. I want to get out of here. I need to leave and make sure that Ruslana—and Anya—are ok. I hate the fact that I’m not there.

We are almost done, but the last stretch is dragging on unnecessarily slowly.

We’ve made the delivery and the trucks have been unloaded. It went so much smoother than I thought it would. Even relations between the Dubrovs and my brothers have been good. We are working as a really efficient team. I hope this is an indication of how we can expect future operations to go.

But I need to get going now. It’s late.

I’m worried about Anya being alone at the club with Ruslana. She doesn’t know how Ruslana can get. Especially lately, she’s been pushing her luck with me and with our brothers. We’ve all had enough of her bullshit.

It’s not fair that Anya has been left in charge of my sister like that. Ruslana has been intentionally causing so much trouble for us lately, rebelling against any rules we try and put in place, even the ones that apply to all of us so that we can stay in touch as a family.

She’s going through something—she won’t communicate with us—and I can’t figure out how to make her see that she’s making things worse for everyone. Not just herself.

She is hell-bent on being as difficult as possible.

She knew we had a big operation to deal with this afternoon—and she knew it would be running late into the night.

I sigh in agitation.

“What’s your problem?” Rad asks, knotting his brows at me. “You’ve been huffing and puffing over there for the last few hours.”

“Yes, I’m just over it now,” I say, not wanting to worry them about whatever is going on with Ruslana tonight.

I trust Anya to handle it as best she can—and she will call me if things get out of hand.

“Alright, we’re done here. Let’s get these trucks back to the warehouse,” Oleg shouts from the other side of the truck we’ve just unloaded. The delivery is done. It’s finished. Now it’s just a case of getting the empty trucks back and then we can call it a night.

“Are we going for a drink after?” Rad asks Renat. “Alexei and them are going.”

“Yeah, let’s join them. It’s been a good mission. We can celebrate.”

“I can’t. I promised Anya I’d have dinner with her,” I say when they glance towards me, wordlessly trying to find out if I’ll be joining.

“You guys take that car. I’m going to turn it off just before the warehouse and head straight home. I’m already late. Didn’t expect it to take this long.”

“The man is whipped in his fake marriage,” Rigor chuckles.

I clench my jaw and hold my words back. There is no point in getting into it now. It’ll just be a waste of time. Although, in all honestly I would rather be at home having dinner with Anya than drinking with them.

I follow the convoy until a few miles before the warehouse turnoff. I don’t follow them after that. I turn towards town—following Anya’s live location to a club named Black Cat.

I’ve been into a few of these clubs, mostly to haul Ruslana out after discovering she was out clubbing alone. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t have any clue how dangerous it is to be out there drunk, and vulnerable like that.

I park the car outside the club and spot Anya’s car parked near the entrance. I’m at the right place.

Slipping the bouncer a wad of cash, he lets me in without asking me to wait in line. I don’t have time for that shit, and I didn’t have time to plan ahead and get on the VIP list, so I’m relieved he doesn’t argue.

Inside, the club is hot and smoky. Music is blaring from all directions, thick, heavy bass pulsing through the air and making the hairs on my arm stand up.

I push my way through the crowds and stand at the edge of the dance floor, scanning over the sea of faces.

Ruslana is there—her arms draped over some asshole who is holding her far too close.

I step onto the dance floor, ready to rip her from his arms and drag her home, but someone grabs my arm.

I spin around to face them and to my surprise, it’s Anya.

“Leave her,” she shouts over the music.

“She’s making a fool of herself,” I shout back.

“Just leave her, she’s only dancing.”

“Anya—“ I shake my head.

She grins. “Dance with me. We can stay close to her and keep an eye on her. She’ll be fine. You’ll make it a hundred times worse if you drag her out of here now.”

Anya takes my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor a few feet from Ruslana.

Anya starts to move against me, swaying her hips in time to the bass and rubbing her gorgeous body over me. Her eyes are bright and glittering as she watches me.

My mind becomes frazzled for a moment and I can’t think straight.

My hands drift to her body, holding her slender waist just above where her hips swell out over her curvy ass. This red dress is devilish. She bites her lip as she watches me, a sly grin on her face.

For a second, I think— she must be distracting me . Ruslana asked her to do this. She’s using her body to distract me from what is really going on.

Anger flares inside me.

But the longer I watch Anya, dancing up against me, teasing me playfully, the more I realize that I’m wrong.

She’s just having fun.

Ruslana is nearby and nothing bad is going to happen to her with me this close anyway.

I can relax as well. It’s been a long time since I just let go and enjoyed myself. With work, running the businesses, and trying to manage my siblings—I never have time for myself.

I run my hand along Anya’s arm down to her hand, then spin her and pull her back against my chest so that her ass is rubbing over my groin.

Fuck.

She is divine.

She tilts her head back against me, laughing as she continues to dance. I run my hand down the front of her body, feeling her curves, enjoying every inch of her as we move together.

I’ve had a fucking long day, and this is exactly what I didn’t know I needed to help rid myself of the tension.

The music changes, the beat gets harder and I lose myself in Anya.

Our eyes keep locking and we both smile every time it happens.

I grab her jaw and kiss her intensely. She feels so good next to me. Everything about her feels good.

We dance for an hour, enjoying the night, forgetting about everything. We kiss, tease and play on the dance floor. I don’t care who’s watching or what they think—Anya and I are in our own world and having the best time. Everything she does turns me on. Every move she makes is driving me wild.

Throughout the night, both of us are keeping an eye on Ruslan,a who has been getting more and more drunk. She is going to feel like hell tomorrow—that much I know for sure. She deserves a fucking bad hangover. Maybe that will teach her not to do stupid shit like this again.

Anya and I are still dancing when I hear a loud shout.

“Stop it,” I recognize her voice over the loud music and both Anya and I turn towards Ruslana at the same time.

The guy she has been dancing with for the last hour or so is dragging her towards the exit. Ruslana is clearly way past the normal levels of being drunk and while she is making it clear she doesn’t want to leave with him—she has no control over her body or words. The guy lifts her in his arms and comments to everyone around, “Sorry, guys, my girlfriend is a bit drunk. I need to get her home.”

Anger flares inside me. That fucking asshole is going to get his head ripped off.

He is moving quickly through the crowd and Ruslana is drifting in and out of drunken consciousness.

Anya, seeming to come out of nowhere, steps in front of the guy and demands loudly, “Put my sister down, asshole.”

He gets a fright, but only for a second. Then he starts laughing. “I don’t know who you are bitch, but get out of my way. I’m taking my girlfriend home.“

Her distraction gives me enough time to reach them.

I am standing right behind him when I speak, “Put her down. You heard the girl.”

He spins to face me, his cheeks red with anger. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m a huge fucking problem for you if you don’t leave that girl alone. She is far too drunk, and you know what you are doing is wrong.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” he snarls at me but lets Ruslana’s feet drop to the ground. Anya steps forward and grabs her, dragging her from his grip, wrapping her arm over her shoulder to hold her up. The guy gets angrier.

“What the fuck are you two playing at? That is my girlfriend, she’s coming home with me.”

I lose all patience and my fist connects with his jaw. He drops instantly, clutching his face in his hands. “What the fuck?” he screams.

All I can picture right now is what he had planned for my little sister and the anger pushes me further. I grab the back of his shirt collar, lifting him just enough so that I can slam my knee into his face. His nose cracks loudly and blood gushes out.

Bouncers surround me, dragging me away from him.

I hold up my arms. “I’m leaving,” I say loudly, backing away. “I’m leaving.”

They push me through the door of the club out onto the street. I doubt I will be allowed back in there, but I don’t care, that guy got what he deserved. I walk away from the entrance and outside into the cool night air to find Anya struggling to hold Ruslana up while she tries to tug her car door open at the same time.

I rush to her side, grabbing Ruslana as she flops over. She looks up at me with glazed eyes. “Rodion?” she mumbles, then grins and passes out again.

“Dammit, Ruslana,” I mutter angrily.

“Sorry, she was a little heavy for me to lift,” Anya says, looking worried about my anger.

“It’s ok, she should never have let this happen to herself. This is her doing.”

Anya holds the back door open and I lay Ruslana across the seat. She is mumbling incoherently. “Let me drive your car. I’ll send someone to fetch my car.”

Anya hands me the keys and climbs in on the passenger side.

My eyes trace up her legs, the red dress not doing much to hide them.

The key turns and the engine growls to life. I shake my head.

“I can’t believe she got this drunk,” I say, pulling out into the road.

“She thinks she getting back at you guys for trying to control her, but really she’s the one who is going to be suffering tomorrow,” Anya sighs, glancing over her shoulder at the back seat where Ruslana is snoring softly. “Are you taking her to your brother’s place, or do you think she should sleep in the guest room at our place?”

“Let’s just take her home to her own bed. She can wake up in her own room. I don’t want to deal with her complaining all morning tomorrow when she’s feeling like hell warmed up. She’ll try and make it our responsibility to make her coffee in bed or something and all I really want to do is murder her right now for being so fucking stupid.”

Anya sighs, “I guess we’ve all been there. It’s self-inflicted, though, so we can’t feel sorry for her.”

“I’ve been drunk before—but not so drunk that a stranger could have taken me home and—“ my throat tightens, and I can’t say the rest of the thought on my mind. Again, anger surges through me and my hands grip the steering wheel tightly, making my knuckles go white.

Anya sighs softly again and looks out of the window, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“Are you ok?” I ask, noticing that she looks uncomfortable.

“I’m fine, yes,” she replies, but still doesn’t look at me.

I reach out and rest my hand on her thigh. It feels good to be able to do this. A few weeks ago, she would have slapped me for trying a move like this.

A smile touches my lips. I take a deep breath. Ruslana is fine. We’ll get her home. Everything is ok. And I have the most beautiful wife in the universe.