Chapter Nineteen - Fiona

It takes close to a week for me to get back to my new normal as a pregnant mob-wife-to-be. The parking lot kidnapping had been doing a number on me as it looped on replay in my mind, the stories of what could have been keeping me up at night.

I used the excuse of creeping into the kitchen for snacks when Ruslan caught me the first night. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his tall, built body taking up all the right amount of space in the kitchen.

"What are you doing up?" I avoided eye contact with him because I didn't want to end up in his bed. There were so many emotions I had yet to process about my life, and the loss of my father, and honestly I had no idea where to begin.

"I came for a snack, and I couldn't sleep," I mumbled, doing my best to push him away. "Go back to sleep. There's nothing's wrong with the baby or me," I lied, knowing that part of being a mob wife is being resilient. I didn't want Ruslan's pity. I'm sure in his mind I was never his true choice of wife, despite our magnetic attraction.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." I'd held on to the lie as tightly as I could, waiting until Ruslan left to sob to myself, and rifling around the refrigerator for food. Ruslan had already put together a stack of sandwiches with my favorite in them and brought extra crisps. It makes the waterworks turn on even more, but I didn't give him enough credit for picking up on my emotional cues, because as soon as the fridge door closed, Ruslan's intense shadow filled the space, drawing me in for a tight hug.

"I knew you weren't okay. Tell me what I can do to help, Fiona. I made a promise to you. Nobody's going to hurt you, and if this is about Bergin—know that he's already been taken care of."

Brushing back the tears, I sniff, playing it off. "I'm fine. It's just the hormonal changes and thinking about my father. Sorry." Ruslan's face softened as his large hands covered my shoulders, kissing my forehead.

"Understandable, and I know I said we should be in separate rooms until the wedding, but if you want to come into my room, the door's open," he rasped, the croak of sleep in his voice.

I refused, not wanting to rely on being in Ruslan's bed as emotional comfort. "I'm okay, thanks. I'm going to eat my snacks and go back to sleep."

He hovered for a minute, but didn't overstep the boundary, leaving as quickly as he came. Still the looming questions came.

What if Bergin got me into his SUV and Ruslan couldn't save me? What will happen the next time?

What if he can't figure out what to do with the picture I gave him? I'd tossed and turned so much, that I'd worn myself and the baby out, and the growing seed in my stomach is what stopped me from worrying.

You're going to stress the baby out. You have to stop the worrying.

Today, I'm better. Besides, I can't stay fearful, I have a wedding to look forward to, and the dressmaker is coming today for my final fittings in the afternoon. I wish I had more involvement in the process, but Ruslan and the staff of the estate assure me they have everything under control.

If it were my wedding, my friends and I would be designing everything down to the wedding invitations and seat placements.

Feeling sorry for myself and still in my robe, I push back the curtains of my suite, seeking entry to the outside world, and what I see and hear is the purr of Ruslan's red sports car reversing in the driveway. My presence in the window must make him look up at him as he throws me a wave and a broad grin. He's so charming, and handsome, but where is he coming and going from all the time?

You're never home. I let the curtains seal back together, becoming annoyed and resentful of him. I know it's Bratva business, and that he's a busy man, but still, it irks me that he won't spend more time with me. The shrill sound of my phone overturns my thoughts as I pick it up.

"Good morning," I say to Ruslan.

"Good morning my beautiful wife to be. You look good in your robe. I'm checking in."

A wave of sunshine touches me as I listen to the seductive timbre of his voice, and it's amazing how he's changed my mood just like that.

"Thank you." I blush, wishing he was with me.

"I have a surprise for you when I get back. I'll tell you about it when I see you in the afternoon."

"Oi! You can't do that. Tell me now what it is?" I whine, a touch excited.

"No. You'll have to wait, but I can guarantee you'll be happy about it." He chuckles.

"I can't wait," I gush. It would be nice to have a good surprise.

"Me neither. And by the way, I think we've figured out the clue from the warehouse picture."

The mention of my father's picture pains me as I wince, having betrayed his trust, even if in death. Gulping down the unknown possible regret, I nod solemnly, suddenly wanting to hang up. "Okay. I guess that's good for you," I say sadly, folding in my bottom lip.

"No. It's good for the both of us, Fiona. Talk later." There's frustration coded in his sentence, and I don't know why. It's not his father. Not his promise, but he should understand, given how loyal he is to the Bratva.

"Bye, Ruslan." I hang up, deciding to cheer myself up by calling my friends, Rachael and Sofia on a three-way call.

"Hi! I'm sorry for not being in contact. I've been feeling a little under the weather with the baby and stuff," I tell them, not able to admit to real reasons. Neither one of them would believe me anyway, because this new life of mine is stranger than anything I can make up.

"Oh my God! Where are you staying? You have got to be kidding me!" Rachael squeals as I talk to them on FaceTime.

"I'm in the same suite I've been in since I got here," I say with a smile, but they don't know this suite is slowly becoming a prison I want to escape. Not that Ruslan has me locked in and guarded anymore, but he might as well.

"Oh, you sound so posh right about now. I miss you so much. Drinks aren't the same without you on a Friday night," Sophia pouts as I touch the screen. Both of them know about the baby, and they were shocked asking me a billion questions, but as always, my friends are ride-or-die and supportive.

"Of course not. You can't have fun without me. It's forbidden, but I can't wait to see you both at my wedding. It's going to be a lot of fun. Sorry I didn't give you much planning time," I tell them, wishing I was marrying somebody I loved by choice, not by convenience.

"Us too, but I just got my bridesmaid dress delivered today, and my ass looks the best it's ever looked in a dress." Rachael puts up the chef's kiss symbol as I nod proudly. I know both the girls inside out, and I knew what would be flattering on their bodies, so I was happy enough I got to pick their dresses, since I couldn't bridesmaid shop with them.

"Good. Racheal I'm so happy you love it. How about yours, Soph? Does it fit?" I ask with concern.

"Yes. Like a fucking glove, and the lavender silk is to die for. I'm in love with the dress. Thank you for not making us turn into giant powder puffs," she praises, the nostalgic times of old, bringing me comfort.

"I am not that pitiful. I can't have my friends looking hideous on my wedding day. That's a complete scam," I banter back, feeling like parts of my old self are still there.

"Good! Smart lady. By the way, what did your dragon lady boss say when you explained that you met your Russian shining knight of armor, and wouldn't be returning to her trash magazine?" Rachael laid out.

"Umm. I didn't resign, because I don't know if I'm quitting."

"What? You're going to stay? You're like a lady of leisure now. Get Ruslan to help you pay for your own magazine." Tilting my head, I sort through the idea. "That could work. If I asked him, but I have a little too much pride for that."

"Gosh, so what did you do about it?" Sophia asks.

"I told her I was taking paid maternity leave. I also have sick leave I haven't used either."

"Wow. You really love her, don't you?"

"Mmm, love and boss don't go in the same sentence for me, but there's worse people in the world."

I know because I've been faced with them. My boss is a very nice person as far as I'm concerned.

"Well, well, good luck with that. Meanwhile I'm on a dating roll. He's a total finance bro, though, sixth date," Sophia states as I laugh. She has a strict list and if men don't match up, they're out.

"I don't give him much hope of lasting," Rachael chimes in, reading my mind as we dive into our circle's gossip. I cherish my friends and I'm happy they're still in my life.

The middle of the day is pretty boring as I eat, lounge around watching TV and waiting for Ruslan to get home. He surprises me, arriving right after lunch as I walk down the stairs in my casual jeans and white tee. A staple outfit for me. He's waiting at the bottom with a smug look on his face.

"I'm back."

"I can see. You're early."

He touches my hand on the banister. "Yep. That's because I'm taking you out."

"Where to now?"

"It's time to shop until you drop." A giant smile crosses my face as I leap into Ruslan's arms. He kisses me quickly with a chuckle.

"Told you, that you'd like the idea. You've only got three sets of pajamas, and you don't have many clothes. You're becoming Mrs. Utkin soon. You're my woman, and our bloodline is rich. I want you to look and feel as if you're living a good, lavish life, because you will be."

Tingles ride down my spine, the promise enticing. "Okay, I won't argue. I love to shop."

Ruslan's eyebrows wiggle as he leans into my ear. "Oh, and make sure you get yourself some sexy lingerie." The bloom of heat ripens on my cheeks as I quip back. "If you're lucky."

Ruslan laughs, nodding his head. "Let's go. I have a few places lined up for you, and my black card's waiting."

"Are you going to leave me in suspense? What stores are you taking me to?" I ask brightly, feeling more optimistic about things between us.

"Let's just say these stores are in on the Gold Coast."

Gasping, a heart-warmed smile lifts to my face, because if Sophia and Rachael knew I was shopping in Chicago's Gold Coast strip they would lose their minds—first with envy, and then they'd want to join me.

Ruslan approves of my enthusiasm, and boy am I glad he came back from lunch early.

"Wow. They have one-of-a-kind boutiques down there." I swoon, thinking about the clothes I've always seen on mannequins there, wanting them for myself.

"That's right. They do, and besides," Ruslan remarks smoothly, running a hand down my arm, "I want to show you that being Mrs. Utkin means you want for nothing, and this way of living isn't all bad.

"Thank you." Ruslan holds out his hand and for a second, I falter, but holding his hand and being beside him is something I'm going to have to get used to. I'm the future Mrs. Utkin.

We reach the luxury high end of Chicago soon enough—Oak Street, the tree-lined strip already speaking its own language to me. All eyes are on Ruslan and me, as I hook my arm underneath his, sunglasses dropping from women in all directions, and men paying their respects via head nod. Instantly, I feel important. Once again Ruslan proves to me that he has social status in Chicago. Maybe I can get used to mob living after all. Feeling a little undressed in my casual tee and jeans compared to the sophisticated, well-presented women of the strip, I find when Ruslan guides me into the first boutique, he checks his watch.

"Right on time," he says with a smile that indicates he's holding a secret.

"On time for what?"

"Oh, it's her, she's here. Welcome, gorgeous woman! Oh, it's so good to meet the future Mrs. Utkin. We've been waiting for you to arrive. I'm Terrence, and I'm here to assist you with any sizes or clothing you might like this morning. We have two floors exclusively available to you for however long you want. Can we get you a beverage to start?" asks a young, exquisitely dressed man, startling me. He's in his mid-twenties, his slicked platinum blond hair suiting him, along with another woman. Shocked, I frown as Ruslan nods. I'm not used to this type of treatment.

"Sure. Orange juice would be good," I tell him, feeling overwhelmed as Ruslan's eyes follow my reaction. This can't be real. Maybe he's just putting on a show for my sake. He probably knows the sales assistant.

"On the way. And for you, Mr. Utkin?"

"Sparkling water is fine, just whatever she wants."

"Okay, coming right up. Feel free to take a look around, and I'll start hanging things in the fitting rooms for you."

All I see when I look around are iconic dresses with stunning designs and prints. Some of the collections are fresh from the runway and haven't been seen by the public. Wool cashmere jackets, pretty floral dresses perfect for the day. Glam beaded and embellished evening gowns that I have no idea when or where I'll wear them. Gold cuffs, and sophisticated earrings that sparkles so bright; it's hard to ignore. I want pretty much everything in the store I touch. I pick up the sky blue, long crepe dress and study the price tag. Wow, it's over three thousand dollars for a dress, but as I feel the fabric, I understand why. Smoothing down the dress, the sales assistant fawns over me as Ruslan's predatory eyes compound the lust emanating from his soul.

I think he approves. I smile to myself as I enter back into the dressing room, having pulled so many things from various racks to try on. If the store has been shut just for me, I might as well play fun dress-ups until I want to leave.

"God, I wish I could I buy everything in here," I whisper under my breath, but Ruslan's standing right outside, hearing me.

"Do it."

Shaking my head, I smirk to myself. Who is he kidding? I'm going to drain his money and rack up all these dresses and accessories. Let's see how far I can take it. I can't buy everything in the store. Sometimes, Mr. Utkin, you can be too arrogant and need to be brought down a peg. I can only imagine the embarrassment on his face when he sees the bill.

But after the first hour of swanning around in outfits, and enjoying snacks and laughs with the attentive staff, my total at the register racks up to more than twenty thousand dollars. I expect Ruslan to eat his words, but he kisses my cheek rubbing my back.

"Is this all? Didn't you want that sexy sequined emerald dress? It matches your eyes and would be a nice outfit for the Chicago benefit event I'm hosting later in the year. It's a few months after the birth of our child, but I think you should get it anyway." He smiles, panic rising within.

Once again, Ruslan upends my plans. "Umm okay," I reply meekly as he rushes to grab the dress, and a pair of pretty shoes in my size to go with.

"Wow. You have outdone yourself, Mrs. Utkin. You are going to be the belle of every ball. Thank you so much for shopping with us. Come back anytime."

I praise the staff, but I can barely breathe, thinking about how much I've just spent in the store.

It doesn't stop there. Ruslan takes me to breakfast, and we fuel up, shopping at a couple of other stores until baby fever calls, and I see a new baby store that's opened. I stop looking inside and cooing over all the cute baby clothes.

"Oh, look at this!" I pick up a cute designer T-shirt and the pretty floral dresses for baby girls. "I can't handle this. There's too much cute everywhere."

Ruslan grins, his hands deep in the pockets he's shelling out from.

"You should buy what you want," he pushes, but I hesitate.

"We don't know the gender yet, should we really be shopping?'

Ruslan being himself, shrugs. "Buy for both genders. If it's a boy, we can save the girl's clothes for next round."

A steady stream of erratic heartbeats string together as I swing around to him from the pram section. "Next time, excuse me?" An eyebrow shoots up as Ruslan reveals his master plan, stroking his beard with a diabolical grin.

"This isn't the last baby you're carrying for me. As my wife, you are going to give me more. Becoming Mrs. Utkin comes at a price." He winks as I digest how I feel about what he's saying.

S hit. I didn't sign up to be a baby-making machine. "We'll see," I say, not wanting to concede so easily.

Ruslan says everything and nothing all at the same, as I ooo and ahh over purchases, eventually deciding to put baby shopping on the back burner.

"Let's just wait until the gender reveal before we buy anything.

"No problem, and how about one more stop?"

"Sure. Where are we going?"

I quickly find out where we're going is a lingerie shop, Perle. I know what he's doing, but wearing nice underwear isn't something I'm adverse to. Ruslan has very specific ideas I realize when he picks up a racy red teddy with suspenders, making me blush in the store.

"I think you should try this one. They've got in a pretty sky blue too, and it offsets those siren eyes of yours. Do it for me," he asks, the timbre of his powerful voice, sending a sharp lighthouse signal to my pussy.

"Alright, I'll try it on," I reply quietly, closing the changeroom door, staring at my changing body in the red number. My breasts have swollen, not that I was ever lacking in that department, but the pregnancy, even if I'm only at four months is started to prepare my body for what's to come. My stomach is still relatively flat, just with a little round mound of showing. My shapely legs and ass are intact, and I'm shocked by the sensual beauty I'm seeing in front of me.

I switch out of the red and into the sky blue, its light tones suiting me even better than the red. A knock on the door startles me as I realize I didn't lock it.

Shit! But it's not the staff, it's Ruslan, and he's eyeing me up and down, his fire contained in the space.

"You are so hot right now. Fuck me," he growls, encroaching in on my space, holding his hands out on either side of me in the small, boxed enclosure. The instantaneous chemical attraction overrides all logical reasoning, and there might be no one in the fitting rooms, but there sure as hell are women browsing for their own personal fantasies to come true. Mine just happen to be playing out on site. His hands grip on to my bare ass as he jiggles it, a deep groan erupting from him, its sound humming through the base of my neck. Instantly my panties moisten as a hot shot of electricity circuits through my body, my legs morphing into Jell-O.

"Ruslan," I breathe out, craving him as I splay my hand on his thickly muscled chest.

He shakes his head. "I can't wait until our wedding night. Not with you in this. I just fucking can't. Forgive me," he requests as I expose my own truth.

"I can't wait either," I reply, exhilaration and a healthy dose of pregnancy hormones zipping through my wanton body. Our mouths clash together momentarily as Ruslan issues a warning between kisses.

"Be quiet when I make you come, and I plan to do it twice." His hot directive leads to a tiny whimper escaping my lips, which I'm hoping the soft melodic piano music of the department store drowns out, but I can't be sure, and frankly, right now, I don't care.

Ruslan places the shh symbol against my lips, replacing it with his insistent mouth, the soft underbrush of his beard, tickling my lips.

When he lets me up for air, I pant, "I don't know if I can." I am both scared and enthralled by what he's about to do to me next.

"You're going to have to, Red October."

"Okay."

Ruslan's dark hair hangs in a small curl in front of his eyes, and if I stare too long into the abyss of his onyx-colored pupils any longer, I'm afraid I might lose myself. He's all broad shoulders, tattoos, dangerous charm, and manipulation. Burning up on the inside, I watch as his hands trail down my body to the top of my thighs, his fingers snapping the garters together as the pain of him not touching me where it aches—grows.

"There we go, that's better," he growls with a wet whisper in my ear, thrusting himself into my leg. I'm not one bit self-conscious anymore about the fact our feverish determination to devour one another might cause a commotion and get us kicked out of the department store.

All that matters is I want Ruslan, and he wants me. Ruslan buries his face between my breasts, pushing against me as he uses one like a squeezable toy. His fingers now seeking entry in the hot, slick center of my pussy. His digits glide in and out as his head leans against mine, my lower half quivering as I pant into his ear. Desperately, I spin my voluptuous hips around his magic fingers, biting my bottom lip so hard, I think it's going to bleed.

"Ruslan, I need more," I say, movement in the fitting rooms forcing me into a giggle. "Shit, I think somebody else is in here."

"Then open your legs, and I'll give you more. We're not leaving here until I make you come." I bite back a groan as Ruslan drops his pants, angling himself inside me as I lift my legs to wrap around him. My head thumps against the dry wall, but I'm too caught up to care.

"What was that?" someone calls out, but the retail sales assistant bypasses the customer's concerns, either because she knows what we're doing or genuinely thinks the loud thunk was nothing.

Ruslan still works, silently with his pants and underwear snaked around his ankles, as he thrusts his hefty cock inside me, stretching my walls as all the grief, worries, and angst about our future is buried by our temporary pleasure-seeking.

His swarthy dark eyes stay trained on mine, his imposing bodyweight covering and holding me solidly against the wall as he rocks back and forth inside me, only the heat of our breath, intermingled with his grunts and my murmurs present.

It's everything I want it to be; my fire for my savior only grows as we scramble to paradise, locking our sweaty fingers together.

Ruslan works hard and fast, changing cadences as I grind back against him in pleasure. Hell yes, this is better than anything. I need nothing else. Nothing else. Maybe it's okay I betrayed my father for him. It's all going to be okay. He can have the files. Maybe I can have the babies he wants.

I feel Ruslan's girth expanding inside me as he unleashes a guttural moan in my ear, his eyes squinting together. " Come with me, Fiona. Now. Come on, " he requests, the bench in the fitting rooms shaking next to us; I have no choice anyway as I watch the scene of us in the mirror, Ruslan's bare ass pumping into me, giving me an erotic display. He makes me feel like a different woman, someone willing to take risks, to live on the edge, and as I bite into his shoulder, I like it. I realize I like the danger, because deep down, I'm cut from the same cloth he is. Wiggling my hips, my garter clip breaks as I see stars, an earth-shattering orgasm breaking me. Ruslan's body stiffens in climax as he lets me go, and I slide down the wall panting and giggling.

I blink rapidly, coming down from the ultimate high, my foot accidentally hitting the bench as the sales clerk calls out, Ruslan locking the changeroom door behind us, and more customers enter.

"Is everything okay in there?" the clerk asks, Ruslan clapping a hand over my mouth. I bite into the palm of it, unable to control my giggles. Sweaty, he mouths for me to shut up, and I comply, answering the woman.

"Yes, everything's fine." My voice comes out squeaky as the waves of orgasm continue, and Ruslan quickly hitches up his pants, zipping them shut.

"Okay, good. Let me know if you need a hand with sizes or anything. Just sing out," the clerk says as one of the customers sniffs the air.

"Why does it smell like sex in here?"

Smuggling a giggle, I gather the lingerie I've tried on, and we end our shopping spree of an afternoon on a high. I ended up with two more sets of Ruslan's choice, and floating on cloud nine for quite a while.

Screw wedding night.