Chapter 4

Griogori

The sun hadn”t even bothered to fully show itself before we were back in the grind. Lana, looking every bit the queen she is, sat across from a politician whose name isn”t worth the air it takes to say it. Me? I”m just the shadow on the wall, silent, watching. Always watching.

The politician, a man with too much sweat and not enough spine, starts his spiel. ”Ms. Lana, we need to ensure the... continuity of our operations. Without attracting attention.”

Lana leans back, her boredom barely masked by a facade of interest. ”And you think I”m not aware?” Her voice is cool, detached. ”Tell me, what exactly are you proposing?”

He shifts, uncomfortable under her gaze. ”New routes, perhaps. More... discreet methods of operation. We can”t afford another slip-up.”

”Slip-up?” Lana echoes, her tone laced with mockery. ”You mean ensuring our business thrives under the very noses of those who wish to see us fall? That ”slip-up”?”

I almost smile. Almost. Lana”s got this guy dancing on strings he doesn”t even know he”s attached to.

He stammers, ”Yes, exactly. But we must be cautious. I have suggestions for—”

”Suggestions that you”ve no doubt pulled from your vast experience in the field?” Lana interrupts, her patience wearing thin. ”Listen, I know my business. Your ”concerns” have been noted. Anything else?”

As the politician, clearly mistaking Lana”s professional courtesy for personal interest, leans in a tad too close, his voice drops to what he probably thinks is a seductive whisper. ”And, Ms. Lana, there”s an ”informal” gathering this weekend. A chance for you to meet some potential clients. It would be... beneficial for you to attend.”

Lana, unfazed by the not-so-subtle pass, simply tilts her head, considering. ”An ”informal” party, you say?”

Her lips curl into a knowing smile, one that doesn”t quite reach her eyes but ensnares the politician”s hopes in its web. ”You”ve piqued my interest. Send the details to Julia.”

The sweat on the politician”s brow seems to glisten with relief and a touch of something else—anticipation, perhaps. He nods eagerly, oblivious to the trap he”s just walked into. ”Of course, Ms. Lana. I”ll ensure you have everything by this afternoon.”

As he gets up to leave, his movements hurried and jittery, it”s clear he believes he”s made a crucial alliance. But I know better. Lana knows better. We all do.

We”ve been over this a dozen times before. She knows what she”s doing; she doesn”t need me to tell her.

It”s the fucking stillness that gets to me. The calm, too fucking quiet for my liking. I”ve always been a man of action; this waiting game is not my forte. I drum my fingers on the table, the only sound in the otherwise silent room echoing like a warning.

Lana. Her name”s like a chant in my mind, circling and repeating until it”s all I can fucking think about. There”s something about her, something dangerous and fucking alluring at once. Like a flame I can”t help but gravitate towards.

Lana turns to me, a smirk playing on her lips. ”Can you believe that guy? Thinks he”s subtle.”

I grunt in response, the closest I come to a laugh. ”Subtle as a brick.”

She shakes her head, the smirk turning into a full smile, a rare sight. ”Well, let”s see what this ”informal” party has to offer, shall we?”

”Let”s.” My job is to protect her from threats, not to engage in the petty politics of our world. But if this party presents a threat, any threat, they”ll quickly find out just how seriously I take my role.

As we leave the building, my mind shifts into autopilot, cataloging exits, memorizing faces, and noting potential threats. This place, likely the venue for the upcoming ”informal” gathering, now exists as a mapped terrain in my mental arsenal. Lana walks beside me, her presence commanding yet subtly on edge—a side of her few get to see.

Once settled in the car, the privacy window pulled up to separate us from the driver, Lana turns to me, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. ”Grigori, can we... maybe skip our sparring sessions for a week or two?”

Her request throws me. Sparring is not just routine; it”s our ritual. It”s where we shed the roles of leader and protector and just become Lana and Grigori, equals on the mat. For her to suggest pausing it, something”s off. ”Are you alright?” Concern laces my words, more pronounced than I intend. She never misses sparring. Never.

She looks away for a moment, and I can see the gears turning, the internal debate raging behind her stoic facade. It”s a side of her she rarely shows, this vulnerability, this indecision.

”You know you can share anything with me,” I say, my voice steady, hoping to bridge the distance her silence has created. ”Whatever it is, Lana.”

There”s a hesitation, a visible gathering of thoughts before she meets my gaze, a storm brewing in her eyes. ”Grigori... I”m pregnant.”

For a moment, I”m lost, adrift in a sea of emotions I hadn”t expected to feel. My face must betray nothing of the turmoil inside because I manage to look at her blankly for a full minute before the only question that matters finds its way past my lips. ”Am — I — ?”

”I don”t know.”

I nod, once, sharply. That”s that. Our conversations have always been simple, straightforward. No need for flowery words or grand gestures. We”ve shared beds, shared secrets, shared dangers, but never illusions about what we were to each other.

The revelation doesn”t change the fundamental nature of our relationship. I”ve no interest in romance, in weaving love into the already complex tapestry of our lives. I”m content with the status quo, with the understanding that what happens between us is borne of need, of momentary desire, not of lasting bonds.

Suddenly, the car feels too small, as if the very walls are closing in on us. I look at her, really look at her. Small, petite even, yet she”s always been strong enough to handle everything life throws at her. But now, she looks fragile - a porcelain doll I could break with a rough touch.

”Are you going to keep the baby?”

I cut straight to the chase, no fluff, no dancing around the elephant in the room. It”s not like us to skirt around the hard topics.

She sighs, heavy, like she”s carrying the weight of the whole damned operation on her shoulders. ”I don”t know. Part of me wants to, but shit, you know what it”s like growing up around here. It”s a minefield, not a playground.”

I reach out, grab her hand. Not gently, but firm, making sure she feels it, making sure she knows I”m right here. I continue, lifting her chin with my free hand so she can”t dodge my piercing gaze. ”

Lana, if you want to keep this kid, we”ll make it work. Yeah, Bratva life ain”t no candyland, but we”ve seen worse. We”ve done worse. And we survived.”

Still clutching her jaw firmly but gently enough not to hurt her, I lean in and place a soft kiss on her forehead.

”And goddamn Lana,” I growl low in her ear, ”I”d kill anyone who tries to hurt you or the baby. You know that right?”

Her eyes well up again but she continues to hold my gaze steadily before answering with a simple nod.

Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, I let my fingers linger on the skin of her cheek.

”You know I”d always take care of you, right?” I whisper slightly as I move my right hand towards her belly.

She nods without breaking the eye contact and bites her lip ever so slightly.

”God, woman” I growl out, my eyes blazing with a dangerous desire that promises debauchery and danger in equal measure. ”You have no fucking idea what you do to me.”

She tenses under my touch. My fingers clench slightly against the fabric of her dress as I push myself closer to her. My heart pounds at an exhilarating pace.

My fingers trail down from her belly to the hem of her dress slowly— so damn slow that it”s torture — before slipping underneath the fabric. She shivers under my touch and moans my name in a breathy whimper that punches lust straight to my gut.

”Grigori...”

Her sweet, whimpering voice only sets the beast in me on fire.

Caging her between my own body and the cool leather of the car seat, my hand starts to wander beneath the hem of her dress, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide her heat from me. My fingers trail along her soft thigh, inching higher.

”Mmm, Grigori,” she moans, my name coming out as a prayer on her lips.

”You like that?”

She doesn”t answer with words, but I feel her hips buck up into my touch, seeking more. A low growl rumbles in my chest at the feel of her squirming against me, desperation clear as day in every little twitch of her body.

”I”m going to make you feel so good,” I whisper against her skin just before biting down lightly on her pulse point. She gasps at the sensation, and I can”t help but chuckle darkly.

My hand creeps further up under her dress until it reaches its desired destination. My fingers glide over the lace fabric of her panties and it”s soaked through.

”Fuck...” The curse slips out of my mouth as I start rubbing slow circles on her sweet spot through the thin fabric. Her legs part willingly allowing me full access while whimpers escape from between her parted lips.

”Grigori...please,” she begs breathlessly.

”Shhh...I”ve got you,”

I assure her, my voice a mere growl in the confined space of the car as my fingers continue to work their magic on her.

She”s clinging onto me now, hands tightly gripping the fabric of my shirt as she moans and whimpers in time with my movements.

”I want you to watch me,” I growl, slipping her panties to one side and sliding a single digit inside her. She moans loudly and bucks up against my hand, craving for more.

Her hands reach for mine, her fingers digging into my forearm as she struggles to keep herself grounded. ”Grigori... The driver will hear us.”

”Let him hear,” I say with a malevolent grin.

Adding another finger, I plunge deeper inside her warmth. Her breath hitches and she gasps out my name like it”s the only thing keeping her sane. My thumb finds her clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles.

”Look at me, Lana,” I command again when her eyes flutter shut from the overwhelming sensations.

She forces her eyes open to meet mine - those beautiful blue orbs glazed over with desire and need for me.

”Fuck, you”re so tight...so wet for me,” I grunt out as my fingers move faster and harder inside of her.

Her body tenses up and I know she”s about to come undone under my touch.

Her slick warmth coats my fingers, and she moves against my hand with an urgency that borders on desperation. The tension within her coils tighter, and I know she”s close.

”Do it,” I command softly. ”Come for me.”

Suddenly, I feel her clamp down hard around my fingers and she screams out my name as she unravels beneath me. The sight of her in ecstasy is breathtaking and I drink in every detail - from the way her back arches off the leather seat to how her hands claw at my forearm.

“Fuck,” I grit out, feeling a swell of pride at having brought her to such a state.

My attention then diverts to the driver who has been silent throughout our escapade. A wicked grin plays on my lips as our eyes meet through the rear-view mirror. The older man quickly diverts his gaze but not before I see a flush creep up his neck.

Satisfied that we have scared him enough, I turn back to Lana with a predatory smirk. ”Now that wasn”t so bad, was it?”

Her flushed cheeks and breathless giggles tell me all I need to know. My little minx likes it when things get a bit wild.

”Again?” She asks after catching her breath.

”Not yet,” I respond with a sly grin.

”Let”s not give him more of a show than necessary.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, and she laughs, a beautiful sound that”s music to my ears. Despite the darkness that constantly swirls within me, this woman manages to bring out a side of me I didn”t think existed.

And with that realization, I know one thing for sure – no matter what happens, anyone who dares to hurt her will have to answer to the beast within.