Chapter TwelveIrina

Chapter Twelve

Irina

Twelve girls have gone missing in the last couple of days, and the police suspect a drug cartel to be responsible.

I swipe down the picture of each girl, noting their faces and ages. The oldest among them is sixteen, the youngest is just twelve. Their innocent faces and smiles rile something in me.

I turn my phone over on the bed and close my eyes. It's been four days since the dinner, Alexei has barely been home ever since that disaster of an evening. He usually leaves before I wake up in the morning and returns after I've gone to sleep. I don't know what to think of it, but there are more pressing issues than a husband who is avoiding me.

The girls; I wonder if he really has something to do with it. I could ask, but I'll only be wasting my time. It's not like he'll confide in his anti-mafia wife about kidnapping underage girls. The only way I can find out anything is getting access to his businesses.

A knock has my attention turning to the door. It creaks open before I can call for whoever it is to come in.

Alexei enters the room. I first take in his clothing. He's wearing an expensive black dress shirt and black slacks. There's a Patek-Phillip watch strapped to his wrist, and the room now has his scent.

My mouth waters, my body slowly awakening. He's incredibly handsome, and I've missed him. Two nights ago, I masturbated to the thought of him kissing and touching me.

He closes the door behind him and leans on it, crossing his legs and arms. "What are you doing?"

"Reading the news. Twelve girls went missing last week." I watch him for a reaction, but he does a good job of not showing any.

"I read about it," he simply says.

"You've been busy," I point out. I know our little argument at the dinner isn't the reason he's been away from home most of the time. It's something more, and something important enough to keep away from home.

"You said it yourself. Twelve girls have gone missing. So, yes, I've been busy."

I chew on my cheek, biting back the question on the tip of my tongue. I really wish I had a truth teller.

"I don't have anything to do with the missing girls," he says quietly, almost as if he can hear my thoughts. "I don't hurt women and children. There's an organization that has invaded my territory, and they're messing with me."

"Oh." I believe him. Some things can't be faked, like the sincerity in his voice. "Are you okay?"

He leans away from the door and walks toward the bed. "I have somewhere I need to be tonight, and you're coming with me."

"Where is that?"

"One of my clubs. I have a meeting with my men about the missing girls.

"Okay." It's the first time I'm going anywhere with him, and it's a good chance for me to try and find out all I can about his involvement with these girls.

"Get dressed. I'll be waiting downstairs."

Once he leaves the room, I jump from the bed. I wear the short, black dress I bought few days ago. I put on black strappy heels, curl my hair and do a little makeup. I pick a black purse to go with my outfit.

Black is not usually my go-to color, but matching outfits with Alexei feels right. His eyes skim over me as I join him downstairs. He looks at me with primal need and longing. My core pulsates at the intensity of his gaze.

"You're beautiful," he says, his voice almost a whisper. Almost cold yet filled with something more than lust.

Warmth spreads over my body. I can't get used to his compliments. I feel like a teenager being complimented by her crush each time he says something nice to me. "Thank you. You don't look bad yourself."

You don't look bad yourself, is an understatement. He looks just perfect, mouthwatering.

I glance at the cars with tinted windows parked behind ours. "Just how many bodyguards do you have?"

"Trust me, malyshka . I have so many enemies that even a hundred bodyguards aren't enough." He holds the door open for me to get in.

I climb in and wait for him to round the car and sit beside me before I continue our conversation. "How does it feel living that way?" I ask.

"What way?" he returns with a lift of his brow.

"Fear. Knowing you can be killed at any time." I'm a deep sleeper so I'm knocked out before my head even hits the pillow, but I imagine he stays up all night worrying. I would have a phobia for death if I were him.

"I don't fear death, malyshka . I never have," he says calmly. "From the moment I could understand what the words meant, I was taught that death is a constant companion in a world like ours."

I hold back a gasp. "It must've been terrifying being taught that as a kid."

He smiles, but it doesn't meet my eyes. "Far from it. I was prepared for this world, but I guess there are things all of that training couldn't prepare me for."

I turn my body towards him, my curiosity piqued. "Things like what?"

A flicker of raw emotion gleams in his eyes. "You, malyshka . I'm not afraid for my brothers, they can take care of themselves. But the thought of anything happening to you because of me, is unbearable."

My scalp prickles, and my stomach churns. He just admitted he's afraid of me getting hurt, and all I can do is swallow as I look at him. I want to assure him I can also take care of myself. I want to calm his worries by telling him nothing will happen, but I can't afford to be vulnerable.

Alexei is my enemy . I've had to remind myself of that every single time I feel myself falling for him, but I'm starting not to believe it.

A part of me trusts the man sitting next to me. He is my husband who I am crazily attracted to. Nothing more.

I look away, leaning my head against the window, and staring at the streetlamps as they whizz past. We don't say a word to each other until the driver brings the car to a stop in front of the nightclub.

Alexei gets out first, rounds the car, and opens my door. He holds a hand out to me and I take it as I climb out. I take in the flickering signboard with Electra Nightclub written on it.

The outside is clustered with people smoking. Darker corners have couples making out. I bite my lip, shying away from the sight in front of me. I'd sing to the music leaking out from inside, but it'll make it even more obvious how anxious I am.

"Are you okay?" Alexei asks, scrutinizing my face.

I nod, trying to ignore his men standing behind us. They're all terrifying in the black suits they're wearing. Some of them have really hideous tattoos and scars peeking out from under their shirts.

I'm horrified to say the least.

Alexei squeezes my hand. I don't hesitate and follow as he leads the way inside.

It's overwhelming inside the club. The music blaring from the speakers is so loud that I'm certain I'll be leaving here with damaged eardrums. I can barely see anything through the neon lights flickering overhead, but I can make out people dancing on the dancefloor.

"Do you own this place?" I ask Alexei. I already know the answer to that, but the place is so big, and I'm too nervous to think of anything else to say.

He nods his head and looks at me. "It's one of my clubs."

"It's… large," I mutter. He doesn't hear me through the noise.

One of his men steps forward and whispers something in his ear. Alexei nods, and then he returns his attention to me. "Come with me."

He holds my hand firmly and leads me to the front bar. "Can you stay here for a while? I have business to attend to."

I don't want to. I haven't been in a club since my freshman year in college, and that was five years ago. But I don't want to be dependent on him, especially not when he'll likely bring me here again. And there's the fact I need to find out if he's behind the kidnappings despite his denial.

"Fine. I'll have a drink while I wait."

He cups my cheeks, kisses my lips and pulls away. "Nikolai will join you in a few minutes. Order whatever you want." He glances at the waiter.

The waiter nods.

"Go, I'll be fine." I let my gaze burn his back until he disappears down some hallway.

I order a negroni, sipping it little by little as I look around.

"You must be new here," a soft voice says beside me.

I turn around to see who it belongs to. A pretty woman who looks about four years older than me is sitting to my left. She's beautiful, with long, black hair and a killer body. She's scarcely dressed in red. Most of her breasts and back are exposed.

"I am," I say with a smile. It wouldn't hurt to make a new friend. Also, I can ask her questions about Alexei. "You must've been here for a while now if you noticed I'm new."

"A martini," she says to the waiter. After he nods to confirm he's taken her order, she faces me. "You have no idea."

I smile. I like her already. "I'm Irina by the way. What's your name?"

She doesn't smile back at me. Instead, the look she gives me is condescending. "I know who you are."

"Oh?" I draw in a breath. "I don't know you."

The waiter brings her martini and she takes it without even thanking him. She sips, scrunching her face up. "You're Irina Volkov. Vadim's wife."

I nod. She really does know who I am. "Yes. I was actually hoping no one would notice."

She crosses her arms over her chest and snorts. "You're the woman he's parading around, and you're not even proud of it?"

"No." I'm taken aback, surprised she would say something like that. She knows my name and whose wife I am, but it doesn't mean she knows me. "Where did you hear that?"

"It's easy to tell," she says with indifference. "Men like Alexei can't be faithful to one woman. It's a miracle if he looks at you like you're anything more than a piece of furniture."

"Alexei is different. He—"

"He doesn't fuck me like he's any different from the other men," she says, cutting me off.

"What?" I do not like where this is going. I look around for Alexei and Nikolai. I don't see either of them. Looks like I've been abandoned to my fate with this weird woman.

She shrugs. "You heard me right. I'm the only woman Alexei has fucked repeatedly for years. My name's Nadya, by the way."

Something inside me stutters. Anger spirals in my gut, but I try my best not to show it. "Why are you telling me this?"

She holds my glare, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Oh, no reason in particular. I figured you might feel bad that he doesn't want you. Thought I'd give you a heads up so you'd understand why"

Does that mean Alexei has been cheating on me? With her?

Fuck.

No, Irina. Don't let her get to you, that is exactly what she wants.

"I didn't complain to you, though," I say. I'm trying to numb the feeling of my heart ripping apart. "It sounds to me like you're angry he doesn't let you warm his bed anymore."

"Don't try to—"

I raise my voice to stop her. "Don't you fucking say a word, Nadya. You'll regret it."

She smirks. "What will you do? Cry to him?"

"On the contrary, I'll have you thrown out of here." I'm the one angling over her now. "Depending on how upset you make me, I may have you beaten up as well."

"You won't do that," she snorts.

"would you like to find out if I will or won't?" I smile when she doesn't answer. "This is my husband's bar and by extension, mine. You do not try to insult me or intimidate me. You may have warmed Alexei's bed before we got married, but I am his wife. I know how to keep my husband coming back for more."

Husband.

It's the first time I've referred to him as that, and it's all thanks to Nadya.

"You sure are something," she says, holding up her martini with trembling hands. It's hard to miss the terror in her eyes.

"Oh, I am." I wouldn't be married to a man like Alexei if I wasn't. "Next time you come up to me running your mouth, I'll beat the shit out of you and have you punished. Do you understand?"

I wouldn't actually do that, but a little threat to keep her in check won't kill her.

She doesn't answer.

"Do you understand me, Nadya?" I repeat.

She nods this time.

A sardonic smile plays on my lips. "Good."

I finish my negroni and stride towards the hallway Alexei disappeared down. I can tell from the expensive rug and the chandeliers dangling overhead that this way leads to the VIP area.

Stopping in front of a red door with the restricted to customers sign in front of it, I press my ear against it and listen for voices inside. I don't hear anything. I pull back and twist the handle of the door, it flies open and heads swirl in my direction.

Among the eyes glaring at me, there's a pair of dark browns ones I'm familiar with, and they belong to Alexei.

Blood drains from my face. It was so quiet that I hadn't expected there would be anyone inside, much less this many men. I chew my lip, thinking of a way to deal with the situation.

Alexei's eyes meet mine. The blank look on his face is unnerving, it isn't helping that Nadya's words are choosing this moment to flash like neon lights in my head. The thought of his big, rough palms riding up her thighs or his big dick fucking her, makes my chest heave. I shouldn't be jealous of Alexei's premarital fling, but I am.

Who gave him the permission to be with another woman before me? Ugh.

"Are you okay?" he asks, searching my face.

I realize I'm still standing by the door, and that the many eyes are still on me. I nod. "Yes," I croak. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come in here."

Alexei ignores that I told him I'm fine. He lifts his brow. "Is there something you want?"

A knot forms in my throat. Swallowing doesn't help. "You're busy, we can talk later."

I'm reaching for the door to shut it when his voice makes my hand freeze midair. "Come here, Irina."

I snap my head to him, my eyes widening.

Is he really giving me an order in front of all these men? In such a deep, sexy voice?

My stomach flutters, and my legs almost buckle. A retort dances at the tip of my tongue, but I don't voice it. I know better than to argue with a Pakhan in front of his men. I've spent years learning all I could about them. After all, knowing your enemy is the only way you can take them down.

If I argue with him, it'll reflect badly on his ability to rule, and he'll lose the respect of his men.

Squaring my shoulders, I walk to him, only looking down when I'm in front of him.

"Sit," he says with that same voice that weakens me all the way down to my bones. There is no humor in his eyes, no gentleness. The man sitting in front of me is not the Alexei I'm familiar with; it's the Pakhan of the Bratva.

My heart pounds against my ribcage as I lower myself on his leg.

"Good girl," he purrs.

Electricity ripples through me. My mind fills with a million dirty scenarios. Him pinning me against the wall and making me come before calling me his ‘good girl'. Or taking him in my mouth and—

"You were saying?" Alexei says, his attention fixed on one of his men. He looks older, at least fifty.

The man's gaze darts to me. The look he gives me is disapproving. "In front of her?" he asks condescendingly.

Alexei nods. "Do you have a problem with my wife being present for the meeting?"

"She's an enemy's daughter, Pakhan . What if she tells him what we say?" the man asks. He doesn't give Alexei a chance to reply when he adds, "For all I know, a woman like her should be nothing more than a whore to warm your bed, a breeding mare to bear your heirs."

My lungs deflate as shock pulls the air from my chest. I want to get angry, but I'm too distracted by the predatory smile on Alexei's face. He moves in one fluid motion, and the next thing I hear is two gunshots.

I scream, covering my ears as the smell of gunpowder fills the room.

When I dare to look up again, there's a gun in Alexei's hand, and a puddle of blood beneath the man. He's clutching his leg and arm, groaning in pain.

Alexei tosses the gun on the coffee table beside him like it's a toy. His voice rumbles from his chest as he asks, "Does anyone else want to have a go at insulting my wife tonight?"