Chapter 17 - Lev

My office hung in a persistent semi-quiet. My team answered my questions, gave me details about arriving at the courthouse later this morning, and provided a status update on Igor. But no one was saying much else, and I had a feeling I knew why.

"All right, everyone, get out of here. Take a break. We'll be heading to the courthouse in five hours. Report back then."

The tired men sighed collectively, all taking the opportunity to rest and catch whatever sleep they could get. I'd demanded quite a bit from them since yesterday's altercation with Pavel's men, and even I knew they required downtime.

"Pietor."

A simple call of his name brought my cousin's distracted stare back up to me, and he groaned. As he let the other pass by, he took the seat in front of my desk. He always liked to stand at the back for meetings like this, watching the room like a vulture looking for scraps.

When he sat, he met my stare with a bit of a glare, bored as it was.

"What?"

No question lay in the word. It was just Pietor moving the conversation forward.

"I want your thoughts about Pavel. I don't like the attack yesterday. Something feels off."

"Oh, like the big fucking hole in Igor's leg. Yeah, you're right, that is off."

Uncrossing my leg from where my ankle rested on my knee, I leaned forward onto the dark wood desk, narrowing my eyes at Pietor as I took a sip of my bourbon.

With a glare, I swallowed, jutting my chin out at him. "So."

He rolled his eyes, raking a hand through his already tussled hair. The guy needed a shower, the whole team did, and I knew that I'd been keeping them from the normal hygiene BS this evening.

"He's definitely got more information about the Vadims. Info he's probably spreading around to cover his debts with everyone else. Found some emails that gave a bit more clarity. And yes, the fucker is old and uses emails."

I nodded. "I suspected as much. Pavel would be on everyone's shit list if he was that bad at gambling and owed everyone money."

"Precisely." Pietor spun that ring on his finger, the inner black loop swirling around the outer one. "Still, I think he got a bit big for his britches. Liked how it felt to have an inside scoop on someone that he could use to extort people. Get his own slice of the pie."

My stomach clenched, and I steadied myself with another sip, my grip tight on the glass. I set the thing down harder than intended, but the frustrated rage bubbling through my veins wasn't going to be ignored.

"He's trying to make himself a player?" I chewed out the words, shaking my head.

"Looks like it. He got those thugs at the office from somewhere. They were clearly not part of our team and they were the Italians, though he's worked with them on a few loans according to the actual books. It appears he's trying to diversify his portfolio."

Brows sinking down over my eyes, I glared forward. "Oh, absolutely the fuck not."

Pietor just nodded, reaching in his pocket for a stick of gum. His mismatched stare left mine for long enough to wad up the wrapper and toss it in the trash. When he looked up again, I could see the calculation behind his eyes because, despite his flippant attitude, Pietor was smart. A down-right crafty mother fucker, who I was very glad played for my team.

"Gotta hand it to him, though, right? Helluva move."

I ground my molars, downing the rest of the bourbon. "Yeah, and one we must counter. Have the men ready for another swingby after the ceremony."

"You're still going to marry this chick? Even though it's clear the leverage with Pavel is shit."

Pietor cocked a brow, leaning on the arm of the leather chair to play with the ring dangling from his ear. Pierced, sarcastic fuck. Would a suit kill you?

"Parker is to be my wife, Pietor. So consider that before you call her a ‘chick' again." I exhaled hard through my nose, doing my very best and not crossing the desk and pinning my cousin to the wall. "Whether Pavel is interested in her is irrelevant. She belongs to me now, and you know how protective I am of my things."

I gestured at the collection of items around me, taken from New York and delivered to Chicago with the utmost care.

"Sure," Pietor dragged out the word, raising his brows with nothing subtle about his sarcasm, "protective. Look, I don't give a fuck if you bang her, keep her in a closet, whatever. Just don't get my ass shot or one of the guys because you thought you out-flanked Pavel and didn't."

He had a point about the distraction—and I didn't like it.

Thankfully, a knock at the door interrupted our little "convo," as he'd call it, and I was quick to get up and head to the door. Opening it wide, one of my guards held up a long garment bag, zipped up tight and still wafting cold air.

"The dress, boss. Just delivered."

I took it from him, waving him away. "Excellent."

At once, Pietor was standing just behind me, and his chuckle threatened the tenuous good mood I was trying to enjoy.

"You got her a dress. Jesus. First the clothes, now this? You are in so deep, you fuck."

Spinning to face him, I pegged Pietor with a hard stare and jabbed a finger in his direction. "Shut it. I did not ask for your opinion on this, so you can keep your fucking comments to yourself. Get the men ready for departure at eleven."

He rolled his eyes, saying, "Yeah, yeah."

But I left the room, not waiting for his rebuttal. I had better places to be at present, and I was honestly looking forward to the upcoming "ceremony," and I wasn't about to examine why that was because I already knew one thing for certain—Pietor was right. I was in very, very deep.

***

When I arrived at my bedroom, Parker was still asleep in the bed. I hadn't come in last night, so I'm not sure when she actually went to bed, but six-thirty seemed as good a time to wake up as any.

First, though, I took my time admiring how she looked in the skimpy little shorts I bought her. The fabric stretched around the curves of her ass as her leg was pulled up near her chest. Parker lay on her side, the loose hoodie top of the matching set bunched up just under her breasts.

My mouth practically watered at the sight of her. It'd be damn easy to slide in behind her and shove the flimsy fabric of those shorts out of the way. I knew she wasn't wearing underwear and the thought made my dick thicken and twitch against my leg.

I knew I technically shouldn't…which is, of course, why I did. Because I was nothing if not a maker of my own rules.

Hanging the dress bag up on the top edge of the closet door, I stalked over to the bed. Parker stirred ever so slightly, my steps making subtle vibrations. She began to stretch, and I slid in behind her before all opportunity was lost.

"What the—"

She jumped lightly as I sidled up to her hips, my erection pressing into her ass as I slipped an arm under her head and clamped my hand around her mouth. I didn't want to hear a single word from those deliciously pouty lips.

With my free hand, I found the curve of Parker's thigh, raking my fingers up her leg and using my nails just enough to make her whimper against my palm.

"Maybe next time you won't sleep in, little one."

Parker squirmed against me, but as my fingers found the space just before the hem of her shorts, she stilled. I toyed with the edge, teasing her. Her hips rocked against my shaft, and I wanted to bury myself in the slick folds just on the other side of the stupid fabric. But…

Teasing her like this was too damn fun.

"What, little one? Did you want something?"

I didn't let go of her mouth, loving how she thrashed a little, and the warmth of her once-sleeping body wormed into me. Tracing my fingers around the edges of the shorts, I lifted the fabric away from her, and Parker moaned.

My fingers hovered over her flesh, and Parker began to tip her hips forward, seeking out the contact. I pulled away, smacking her ass as I admired the stippled bruising from the belt. She looked fucking delectable with my marks on her skin.

Later. The judge is waiting, after all.

Getting up from the luxurious bed, I turned away from Parker, going instead for the dress that hung up and taking it down. Spinning on my heel, I tossed the dress over her legs as Parker sat up with a glare.

"Get changed. I'll send someone for hair and makeup."

"Seriously? What the hell is going on? You can't just—"

I chuckled, just heading for the door again and leaving her to sputter. Locking things up for now, I went to the foyer downstairs. I'd called for one of my men's girlfriends, a stylist, to come help Parker get ready for the wedding, and she was due to arrive soon.

Sure enough, as I hurried down the stairs, a guard was there welcoming the woman to the house. I nodded at her, offering a hand to shake.

"Mia. Thank you for coming. Allow me to show you to your canvas for the morning."

"Of course, Mr. Vadim." She nodded back, taking my hand lightly.

I could sense the nervous tension in her, but she was respectful, and she'd been a staple in Joey's life for a few years. She was a safe bet for something like this.

As we walked to my bedroom, I spoke over my shoulder to her.

"Mia, I expect my bride to get your best work. Nothing is too good for her. Understood?"

"Of course. She'll knock your socks off. I guarantee it."

Mia's voice held the hint of a lower-class Chicago accent, and it was a slight change from the Brooklyn dialect I was familiar with back in New York. Results would speak for themselves, however.

"I hope so."

***

Time dragged at a snail's pace while I waited for Parker to come out of that fucking room. Mia had been in there doing Parker's makeup and hair for a good two and a half hours, and we were pushing our arranged time of eleven at the judge's quarters.

I pounded a fist on the door. "You're done in there. Bring her out. We need to leave."

"Coming right away, Mr. Vadim!"

As Mia's voice called out from behind the door, I stepped back. Impatient. It was my status quo, and I took several paces down the hall, ready to get going to the car so we could get this meeting with the judge over with.

Because she's already mine. These are just the formalities. And a way to let the whole damn world know who Parker belonged to.

The sound of the door clicking open brought my attention around from staring down the hall at my guard and ensuring the car was ready. When I turned, my focus went to the floor first, attracted to the loud clack of a sharp heel hitting the wood floor.

Off-white shoes with pointed toes encrusted in translucent gems poked out from the split of cascading pale cream fabric. I followed the long line of Parker's leg as it appeared from behind that sexy slit framed by the smooth long skirt of her dress. It peaked right at her hip, and the dress continued, a structured detail right at the waist.

From there, Parker's cleavage filled the two halves of the dress's top, constructed similarly to a halter top, with a long, long neckline that ended right at her sternum. The sleeveless ensemble also had a low back that sat right at Parker's sacrum.

My cock hardened at the sight of all that delicious skin, but the best part of the dress was the neck enclosure, a band of fabric that hugged around her throat and buttoned at the nape of her neck. Long swaths of fabric dripped down from it, creating a long train that followed behind her as she walked up to me.

"Fuck." I dragged out the word. She's fucking stunning.

"No white?" Parker cocked a brow at me.

Her strawberry curls had been spun into a loose French twist at the back of her head, and Parker's makeup was demure and simple, her lips a rose pink that just heightened the natural color. Large diamond earrings I'd chosen sat in the single piercing in her ears, and a matching bracelet dangled loosely from her right wrist, drawing my attention to the light red marks still lingering there.

Overall, the look was quite simple: no ruffles, no frills, no lace. But it was stunning in that simplicity—and undeniably sexy as her porcelain skin shone from all the exposed areas. And still no panties in sight.

I walked forward, leaning in to hover my lips above the sensitive skin behind her ear as I stroked a curl near her cheek.

"You're far from innocent anymore, aren't you?" I gazed down her chest, noticing the hard peaks of her breasts pressing against the thin fabric. "My sweet, little sinner."

Stepping back from her, I smirked at the deep pink coloring her cheeks, holding those peridot eyes as she tried to glare at me.

"Well done, Mia." I didn't look at her while I spoke, not willing to tear my eyes away from Parker. "We should be going."

Holding my arm out toward my bride, I let Parker's refusal to move challenge me for only a moment before snagging her hand and yanking her toward me. She fell against my chest, and I adored the way she felt right there, pressed against me. I adored pretty much everything about this incredible woman. With every second, I was losing any control I thought I had over how I felt about her.

So, I reached for the slit of her dress, hidden from view by the proximity of our bodies. I needed to touch her, to distract my heart by stocking my arousal.

Slipping between her legs for only a second, I swiped through the obvious arousal coating her skin. As I took my hand back, I just smiled—evil and proud.

"Excited?" Parker's eyes flared, her blush growing. "Such a naughty girl."

"I…" She didn't finish, her eyes dropping to the floor as she blinked several times.

"Come now, little one. The judge is waiting."