19. Dimitri

19

DIMITRI

I stare at the photo frame on the floor, my teeth gritted as the smiling faces of my family look back at me, so blissfully unaware of the horror that was about to be bestowed upon us just a week after we took it.

My parents lying in a pool of their own blood. My family torn apart forever.

Picking up the photo, I sink down into my office chair and silently curse myself for losing my cool.

I shouldn’t have lost my temper with Zara like that, especially after the progress we made last night.

The fact that she trusted me enough to open up about her past was a big step, and likely not an easy one for her to take, and in the space of a few seconds, I’ve shattered that trust into a million pieces.

But seeing her in my office, looking at the memories that litter the wall, triggered a rage inside me that I didn’t realize was simmering beneath the surface.

Perhaps because when I look at the photos now, I see nothing but lies. On the outside, we looked perfect, but it was all a fa?ade .

I glance down at the photo in my hand, and my gut twists.

My father has his arm wrapped around my mother, and she’s gazing up at him with nothing but love in her eyes as he smiles at the camera.

“Traitorous bastard.” I launch the frame at the wall.

It falls to the floor, the glass shattering all over the carpet, but I don’t care.

Part of me wants to tear down every picture in this room and throw them in the fire.

It was all a lie. My father played his part so well that none of us had any idea, and that’s the part that hurts the most.

All my life, I’ve been told how much I’m like my father, a fact I used to pride myself on. Not anymore.

His infidelity not only has me questioning him, but also questioning myself and whether I have what it takes to be a good husband.

From the way I just yelled at Zara, it seems I have my answer.

I curse under my breath, balling my hands into fists as I think of the look on Zara’s face as I lost my shit.

It was the same look she had when I found Giovanni pinning her against the wall. Fucking terrified.

“You piece of shit, Dimitri.” I run my hands over my face.

My phone ringing snaps me out of my guilt spiral.

I quickly swipe my thumb across the screen when I see who’s calling.

“Rurik? What have you got for me?” I rub my hand over the stubble starting to coat my jaw.

“I’ve done some digging into Igor’s wife, Katya.”

“And? ”

Rurik takes a breath, and I clench my jaw as I wait for the bomb to drop.

“She gave birth to a baby not long after the affair with your father ended.”

Acid burns my throat as I realize that not only did my father have an affair with the wife of one of the most powerful men in Russia, but he also got her fucking pregnant .

“Fuck, this isn’t good.” I run a hand over my face.

I clear my throat, my mind racing as I try to think about how this knowledge might come back to bite my family in the ass.

“It’s not as bad as you think, Dimitri.”

“I would love to know how it’s not that bad.”

“The baby was stillborn. A boy.”

“Shit.”

“Those properties that your father gave to Igor? They coincide with the stillbirth,” Rurik continues. “It’s likely your father offered them to Igor as a sort of…apology.”

“So, you think Igor would have known that the baby wasn’t his?”

“It’s a possibility, something that I’m looking into more.”

There’s no way in hell Igor Ivanov would have let his wife raise the child of a rival Pahkan, especially if the child was a boy. He would have posed the greatest threat to Igor’s empire.

“Perhaps the stillbirth was a cover up…” I think out loud.

“That was my first thought too.”

“Fuck.”

“I’m following up another lead back in Russia to find out more information, but right now that’s all I have.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the effort, Rurik. ”

“Anytime. I’ll be in touch soon.”

I set my phone down on my desk and lean back in my chair, letting out a long breath.

There had been a child, a son . I had another brother that I didn’t even know existed.

My brothers don’t need to know about this, at least not until I can get more information.

Danil is already distraught enough as it is about our father’s affair, and I don’t want to have any more fights with Alexei. We’ve all been through enough as it is, I don’t need to throw a long lost brother into the mix.

I stay locked away in my office for a few more hours, trying to process the information Rurik gave me. I can barely focus on my work, my head switching between thoughts of my father and thoughts of Zara.

How did it all go so wrong so fast?

There’s nothing I can do about my father’s affair right now, but I can do something about my relationship with Zara.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s almost six. I think Zara and I have avoided each other for long enough.

Pushing my chair back and getting to my feet, I wander out of my office and go in search of my wife.

She slammed the door to her room earlier, and I’ve heard nothing since. It’s likely she’s still hiding away in there.

Hiding from me .

The pang of guilt hits my stomach like a lead weight, and I fight the urge to go barging into her room and beg for her forgiveness.

I cross the hall and press my ear to her door, but it’s quiet .

“Zara?” I call out softly, rapping my knuckles on the door.

Silence.

I grind my teeth. I hate the idea that she’s ignoring me, so I try the door handle.

It opens, and I peer inside to find her curled up in bed, asleep. Her blonde hair is fanned out around her head, and her cheeks look red as if she’s been crying.

I’m such a bastard.

I want nothing more than to climb into bed beside her and hold her against me as she sleeps. But I’m all too aware that she won’t forgive me that easily, and I don’t deserve her to. There is no excuse for my behavior, and I’m sure as hell going to make it up to her in any way she’ll let me.

So for now, I’ll let her sleep.

The blinds are open and her light is still on, so I creep inside, not wanting to wake her. I pick up the remote for the blinds on her bedside table and lower them, casting the room in shadow.

Bending over her, I press the softest kiss to her forehead, my lips barely brushing her skin so as not to wake her.

“I’m so sorry, sladkaya zhizn’ ,” I whisper before reaching over to switch off the light.

It pains me to leave Zara. I want nothing more than to throw back the covers and show her how truly sorry I am with my tongue, but I force myself to walk away and give her some space.

I wish we could go back to last night. It was the first time I’d spent the night with a woman and only focused on her pleasure rather than my own.

Don’t get me wrong, I always make sure they come first, but after that it’s fair game.

But not last night. I didn’t think of anything other than Zara’s pleasure, and it was incredible. I was desperate to spend hours with my face buried between her thighs as she moaned with pleasure and would have happily kept going, making her come over and over, but I didn’t want to keep her from sleep.

That did mean I woke up hard as a fucking rock which is why I snuck out and hit the gym to try and release some of the pent up tension in my body.

I was planning on taking a shower afterward to pump one out but I became too distracted by the sight of Zara snooping in my office.

Realizing I never took that shower, I head into my room across the hall and into my private bathroom. Turning on the waterfall shower, I strip out of my workout clothes and step under the scalding hot water, letting out a sigh as my muscles start to loosen.

Apart from one.

“I can’t,” I grunt as my cock hardens.

It feels wrong to fantasize about Zara’s luscious body when she’s currently avoiding me like the plague. But as I shut my eyes and let the water cascade over me, all I can think about is her.

I grip my hand around the base and squeeze tightly, my mind flooding with the memory of what it was like to have her come on my tongue.

What I wouldn’t do to have her here with me right now, dripping wet and moaning as I wrapped her soft thighs around my waist and fucked her up against the wall of the shower.

I want that more than anything, and so does my cock from the way it’s already leaking, but I won’t let myself feel the pleasure of release. Not until she’s forgiven me .

So, I turn the shower to cold and grit my teeth as I finish washing.

After my shower, I head back downstairs and into the kitchen, my stomach aching from barely eating all day, but I frown at the state of it.

The kitchen island is littered with half prepared food that was not there this morning when I left to go to the gym. Has Zara not eaten anything?

Part of me wants to storm upstairs with a plate of food and demand she eats.

I can’t have her hiding herself away all day, starving herself because she’s afraid of running into me. That is not the life I promised her. I promised her I would take care of her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I decide to call in a few favors with some associates as part of my plan to apologize. I start off by calling the head chef at one of the highest-rated restaurants in Manhattan. Typically it would take months just to get a reservation at this place, but I plan on doing much more than that.

I don’t often abuse the fact that I’m a Kolsov, but for Zara, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that she knows how sorry I am.

After a bit of persuading, I manage to book out the entire restaurant for the night and have the chef put together a special tasting menu just for us.

After I’ve organized the meal, I put in another call to Clara who helped Zara pick out her wedding dress.

The bridal boutique has a sister store that sells evening wear, so I ask her to pick something out that will compliment Zara’s coloring and have it sent over to the penthouse tomorrow along with a bouquet of flowers.

I just hope it will be enough. But only Zara can decide if she wants to forgive me.