Chapter 13 - Gwen

The air was crisp with a hint of excitement as Anya and I stepped out into the bustling street, the chaos of the city swirling around us. The bright lights of the shops beckoned, and I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach. Shopping was a foreign concept to me—much less the kind Anya had in mind. Growing up, I never really was the kind to buy a whole new closet for every school semester, and I am a chronic (and proud) outfit repeater. Yet, the idea of going shopping was still very exciting. It helped that Anya seemed overjoyed, maybe to spend time with me even more so than buying anything. She was practically vibrating with enthusiasm beside me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Today is about fun, Gwen!” Anya declared, looping her arm through mine as we navigated the crowd. “Roman tells me you’ve been too serious and on edge lately. I’m here to help fix that. Let’s find you something that makes you feel alive!”

I chuckled softly, unsure of what “alive” looked like in a wardrobe. The Bratva lifestyle has taught me practicality and caution. So far, I have a small collection of mostly tops, jeans, and a couple of dresses that I honestly couldn’t see myself in—nothing extravagant, nothing that screamed attention.

“Just promise me we won’t buy anything too… out there,” I said, glancing at the neon signs advertising glamorous outfits in the windows that looked like it would cost me six months of rent a piece. “I don’t want to draw more attention to myself than I already do.”

Anya’s laughter filled the air, a sweet sound that cut through my worries. The best part about Anya is that nothing seemed fake or forced about her. Everything was genuine about her—her smile, laughter, and words.

“You underestimate yourself, my dear,” She says, reaching forward to playfully pinch my cheek in an almost motherly gesture. “You are a stunning woman, and you deserve to wear something that reflects that.” Her enthusiasm was contagious, and despite my reservations, I found myself smiling.

“Thank you,” I reply gratefully. If Anya’s around more, maybe this whole Bratva lifestyle won’t be as bad as I deemed it to be.

As we entered the first boutique, I was greeted by racks of colorful clothes and vibrant accessories. Heels of different sizes and color variations lined one side of the wall, and I narrowly dodged a long glass case of sparkling jewelry.

Anya wasted no time as she began diving into a pile of fabrics like a kid in a candy store. I lingered back, my fingers brushing the soft materials, hesitant but intrigued. I never put too much thought into my outfits, and only recently started dressing to better fit in with the girls my age. As I look through different options, I’m having a hard time picturing what suits me and what does not.

“So, tell me more about life in the U.S.,” Anya said, pulling me into a fitting room as she tossed a bright red dress over my head. The fabric felt smooth against my skin. “It must be so different from Russia.”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the dress clinging to my body in a way that felt both strange and exciting. “It is,” I admitted. She leads me into the open, and I soak in my reflection, smirking at the way the sexy dress hugs my body so flawlessly. “They’re right on what they say about college football, I’ll tell you. And school is pretty fun, for the most part. I miss my roommate, though. We were inseparable, and I feel guilty for leaving her behind. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve traded one life for another without fully understanding what that means.”

Anya’s expression softened. I didn’t mean to turn the conversation a bit gloomy. “It’s natural to feel that way,” she says. “But you’re here now, and you’re surrounded by people who care for you. You have me, and you have Roman. We are your family now. We’ll protect you. And we’re already working hard to get your roommate back.” Her words settled over me like a warm blanket, wrapping me in comfort.

“Family,” I echoed, the word tasting different on my tongue. I had never expected to find such a bond in a world filled with danger and uncertainty. Still, I felt terribly out of place, like a dove in a field of crows.

Anya rummaged through more clothes, pulling out a sleek black outfit that seemed to shimmer under the lights. “This is perfect! It screams confidence.”

I took the piece from her, glancing at it skeptically. “That’s a bit too… tight, don’t you think?” It was even tighter than the red dress, but on the bright side, it didn’t appear to put my boobs on full display.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Trust me, you will look amazing! Besides, it’s time to explore a different side of yourself.” She hums to herself as she walks down the aisle towards the back of the store while I try to follow close behind. She gazes upon a row of different premium wigs, gasping as she stops in front of one. “What about this wig?” She held up a long, black wig, the hair cascading in soft waves. “We can play with looks, change your style completely. You might even surprise Roman!”

The idea struck a chord, and I found myself chuckling. The thought of donning this extravagant wig and outfit, transforming into someone new, sparked a flicker of excitement. “I could use it for some roleplay,” I mused, my mind racing with possibilities. I immediately widen my eyes—I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I didn’t even mean to think it. “I mean, in the sense that…”

Anya raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “Ah, I see what you’re thinking. Use it to seduce him, huh? You naughty girl!”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “It’s just an idea,” I defended, but the notion lingered, tempting me. What would it be like to tease Roman in a way he didn’t expect?

We continued our shopping spree, Anya encouraging me to try different outfits, each pushing me further out of my comfort zone. With each new piece, I felt a shift within me—a growing confidence that began to replace the unease I’d felt about my new life. Anya was doing a spectacular job at making me feel like I belonged, so much so that our entire shopping experience thus far made me forget how I ended up here in the first place. It was relaxing, to say the least.

After a few hours of laughter and exploration, I emerged from the store carrying bags filled with clothes that felt undeniably different. Anya mostly selected my outfits, but I also had a say in a couple of these choices. Anya was positively glowing, her excitement infectious.

“You’re going to love these,” she insisted, nudging me playfully. “Now, we just need to add some accessories, and you’ll be all set.”

But as we walked back toward the car, I felt a restlessness in my chest. Tomorrow night, we were supposed to meet the Vultures—the bastards who had taken Riley. The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through me, the reality of the situation crashing over me like icy waves—anxiety that, seconds later, shifted into anger for my friend.

I hadn’t seen Roman much in the past few days, and the absence of his presence weighed heavily on my heart. Suddenly, as I look down at the many bags turning my fingers blue, I feel guilty for letting myself get swept up in shopping when my friend was in danger. While I’m out here laughing and enjoying myself, Riley is out there somewhere unknown, probably tied up and hurt. The guilt eats at me.

Pacing the small confines of our apartment later that evening, I tried to quell the rising tide of anxiety.

The minutes dragged on, each tick of the clock amplifying my unease. What if the meeting went wrong? What if we didn’t get Riley back? What if she wasn’t even alive? What if she was so hurt and traumatized that she’s a shell of who she used to be? My mind spirals into a whirlpool of worst-case scenarios, each more frightening than the last.

Just as I began to feel suffocated by my thoughts, the front door swung open, and Roman stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He looked good—better than good, in fact. His sharp jawline and dark hair were tousled in a way that made my heart race.

“Roman!” Anya approaches her brother and envelops him in a suffocating hug.

“Hey, how was the outing?” He asks, turning his attention to me.

I try to put on a smile to hide my anxieties as Anya beams and responds. “We had a blast! I think we bonded. Didn’t we, Gwen?”

I nod. “Yeah, it was nice. Anya took me to a bunch of stores and then to that cute coffee shop, and we talked about... everything.” Her gaze flickers to me, and I smile at her.

Roman eyes me for a second, and I know he sees right through my gimmick right away. “Good,” He says. “You two seem to have hit it off.”

Anya shoots me a look, a teasing glint in her eye. “I told her all about your brooding ways. She’s got you figured out, Roman.”

Roman chuckles. “Glad to hear it. Just don’t let her scare you off with my charm.”

“Charm?” I raise an eyebrow, my expression playful as I try to better conceal my disgruntled emotions. “I’m not sure if that’s the word I’d use.”

“Touché,” He concedes, a smile breaking through. He turns to Anya. “Thanks, Anya. I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Anya,” I add, and she makes an ‘aww’ sound as she runs over to squeeze me in a tight hug as well.

“Anytime,” Anya winks before turning to Roman. “But seriously, Roman, lighten up a little. You’re starting to scare the girl.”

At this, Roman rolls his eyes. Once Anya heads out the door after we bid farewell, he turns to me.

“Gwen,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” I asked, taken aback. I felt like a deer caught in headlights, my thoughts racing a million miles an hour. What was he talking about? Was it something to do with the Vultures? With Riley? God, my anxiety is eating me alive right now, and I can barely control it.

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically, stepping closer. His eyes roamed over me, a flicker of desire igniting in his gaze. “Put on the sexiest outfit Anya picked out for you.”

Surprise washed over me, mixed in with a heat that sprouts in my crotch. “Where are we?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Trust me, okay? Just trust me,” he replied casually, but the heat in his eyes told me there was more beneath the surface.

Before I could respond, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a mind-blowing kiss that sent sparks cascading through my body. I melted against him, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

“Get ready,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm and tantalizing.

With a nod, I stepped back, trying to regain my composure. I hurried to change, slipping into the glittery black dress that had felt so foreign earlier. As I put on the wig and applied my makeup, I couldn’t recognize the reflection staring back at me.

The woman in the mirror was fierce and alluring, the wig framing my face in a way that highlighted my features. The black dress hugged every inch of my body so perfectly, showing off my slender, toned figure and revealing a bit of cleavage as well. I was almost scared to step out and show Roman the new me, but the thrill of transformation buzzed in my veins.

When I finally emerged, Roman stood waiting, his gaze darkening with appreciation. His mouth parted in surprise, and I could see the arousal flickering in his eyes. “Wow,” he breathed, taking me in from head to toe. “You look incredible.”

I blushed under his intense gaze, feeling a rush of confidence surge within me. For a second, judging by his gaze, I’m not sure we’ll even make it out of the house.

“You look amazing as well,” I compliment him back shyly. My words couldn’t be more of an understatement. While I changed, he switched into an all-black suit with a black shirt underneath that didn’t bore a tie and was instead slightly peeled apart to expose a bit of his chest. He wore what I could only assume to be a Rolex on his watch, which sparkled even more than my dress.

My gaze drinks every inch of him slowly, starting with his handsome, chiseled face and trailing down to take in the way his suit hugs every muscle that threatens to bulge through. Now I’m starting to think about whether I’ll be able to make it out of the house without ripping off everything he’s wearing first.

But before I could fully embrace the moment, he stepped forward, his expression shifting. “We have to go,” he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

“Where?” I asked, my excitement mingling with confusion.

“You’ll see,” he replied, his grin devilish. “Just keep up.”

With that, he took my hand, and together, we stepped out into the night, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I was ready for whatever adventure lay ahead, even if it meant facing the unknown.

The night air buzzed with electric energy as Roman guided me through the thrumming streets of the casino district in his red Lamborghini Aventador. The engine purrs deliciously as he accelerates, and I linger my head out the open window, closing my eyes as the wind gently brushes my face and ruffles my hair. The lights blinked like stars, illuminating the way to our next adventure. I could hardly contain my excitement, my heart racing not just from the thrill of the evening but also from the intoxicating presence of my husband beside me.

“Where are we going?” I asked, a playful smile dancing on my lips.

“Just a little adventure,” he replied, his tone teasing. His hand rests on my thigh, sending tiny shocks across my skin and to my middle, making it hard to push away my darker thoughts. “I thought we could enjoy some time out without drawing any unwanted attention. Think of it as... roleplaying.”

I raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a laugh. “Roleplaying? In disguises?”

“Exactly,” he said with a wink, his confidence making me feel a rush of warmth. “But it’s all for safety, of course.”

“Of course,” I reply, matching his teasing, suggestive tone. I bite my lip, returning my focus to the sights outside the window.

As we entered the casino, the world outside faded away, replaced by a symphony of laughter, clinking chips, and the melodic chime of slot machines. Roman walks with his usual confident, casual grace, every step filled with purpose. His eyes scanned the room, vigilant yet relaxed, making me feel secure in his presence. I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as I notice many women look his way.

“Let’s find somewhere quieter,” he suggested, and I nodded, curious about what he had planned.

We moved through the throngs of people, the sounds of the casino enveloping us. Roman led me to a quieter corner, where the noise became a distant hum. The atmosphere shifted, the glimmer of the slot machines fading into a cozy, intimate space where we could breathe without feeling the eyes of the world on us.

“What do you think?” he asked, leaning close. “Are you ready to try your luck?”

I looked around, excitement bubbling within me. “I’m game. What do you have in mind?”

With a smirk, he stepped closer. “How about a little game of roulette?”

The thrill of the spinning wheel ignited a spark of adrenaline in me. Roman’s infectious energy took me by surprise. Knowing that I could break him out of his quiet, reserved shell so easily was comforting.

He leaned in as I placed my bets, his lips brushing against my ear, igniting a shiver down my spine. “Remember, it’s all about the thrill of the gamble.”

After a few rounds, we decided to retreat to a more secluded lounge area, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. The intimacy of the moment enveloped us as Roman turned to me, his gaze dark and filled with intensity.

“You look incredible tonight,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I wanted to make sure you felt special.”

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks at his words. “Thank you. I didn’t expect to feel this... alive.”

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he took my hand, leading me deeper into the casino’s heart. “You know, disguises can be fun. They give us a chance to be someone else for a little while.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, intrigued.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin. “I mean, tonight, we can forget about everything else. Just enjoy the moment.”

A thrill shot through me at the thought of shedding the weight of our realities, even if just for a little while. We continued to explore the casino, laughter bubbling up between us and tension simmering just beneath the surface.

“Can you show me your office?” I blurted out, the thought escaping before I could stop it. My heart raced at the idea. “I want to see where you work.”

Roman’s eyes lit up with surprise, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Are you sure? It’s not as glamorous as you might think.”

“I don’t care. I want to see it,” I insisted, feeling bold.

“All right, let’s go,” he said, the excitement in his voice making my heart flutter.

He takes my hand in his, which makes me smile. The adrenaline coursing through my veins intensified as we made our way to his office. Roman opened the door, and we stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, filled with the scent of polished wood and leather. My eyes darted around, taking in the organized chaos of papers, the sleek desk, and the subtle hints of his personality that decorated the space. A long, mahogany desk lay in the center of the room, surrounded by a large wall with multiple selves adorned with photos and other decorations.

“Welcome to my domain,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “Or, my cousin’s domain, I suppose. Only my temporary one.”

I chuckled as I looked back at him, feeling a thrill of intimacy in the space. “It’s nice,” I said, genuinely impressed. It was nothing compared to his personal office back home, but still very nice.

Home . It feels strange calling it that, but the word associates with his penthouse so easily , so effortlessly.

“Want to see what makes this place tick?” he asked, stepping closer.

Before I could answer, Roman’s hand found my waist, drawing me closer. The air thickens with a sudden tension as our gazes lock. He was so near that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, and my breath caught in my throat.

As we stood there, our bodies almost touching, the anticipation between us crackled like electricity. I could feel the tension building, the need to bridge that last distance igniting every nerve ending in my body.

The desperation takes over quickly. Before I can even finish thinking about it, I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and pull his lips into mine. The kiss starts slow and tender, Roman placing his palms on my hips and pulling me closer. I part my lips, allowing his tongue entry to explore my mouth, which causes the kiss to quickly get hungrier. But as the heat inside of me spreads, I quickly grow desperate for a taste of another part of him.

Pulling away, my hands trail down his abs and begin to fiddle with his belt. Roman pulls away, watching my hands work at the leather strap.

“What are you doing?” Roman asks, desire mixed with surprise edging his tone.

I look up at him as I tear his belt away, then make quick work of his zipper. “I’m making this night more memorable,” I say, biting my lip eagerly as I pull down his pants and underwear. His massive cock almost hits me in the face as it bounces out from his underwear, and I hold the base of it in my hand. Nervousness wracks my frame, but I push it aside as I take the tip of Roman’s cock into my mouth.

The soft exhale he lets out as my lips wrap around his tip invigorates me, igniting a fire in my core that quickly spreads to envelop my entire body. I move my mouth further down his cock, as far down as I comfortably can—his cock is massive—before I begin to bob my head up and down.

I’m not so sure of what I’m doing, whether I’m doing it correctly or not, but it feels right. I work with passion. I’m desperate to please him. And when I look up, peering up at Roman with big eyes, the half-lidded look on his face tells me I must be doing a spectacular job.

“Fuck, Gwen,” Roman groans as I suck hard, taking him in and out of my mouth at a fast pace. I place one of my hands on the base of his cock while the other moves under my mouth to add to the pleasure. I increase my pace, then pull my lips off him for a second. I spit on the tip, to which he smiles with amusement, then spread my saliva across the entirety of his cock.

“Come on, darling’, I know you can go further than that,” He croons. One of his hands finds my head and strokes my hair for a second before he gently pushes my mouth back down onto his cock, his hand sliding to the back of my head in order to guide my sucking.

He’s a bit rough, just like he always is, but he goes about it in a gentle way. He makes sure to be careful as he pushes my head down hard. I nearly gag as I feel the head of his cock hit the back of my throat, and I feel tears burning the corners of my eyes, but I keep going. I keep sucking hard, moving my tongue back and forth against his length as I bob up and down, the low moans and groans that escape his mouth my reward.

I feel him hit the back of my throat again, which causes his hips to buck up, and he lets out a grunt.

“Fuck, moya lyubov , you look so fucking hot like this,” He praises me, his large fingers still tangled in my hair. His words roll over me darkly, adding more to the fire inside of me and motivating me to do even better, if possible.

“I can’t wait to fill up that perfect pretty mouth of yours.” He says. His head falls back as he pushes his hips forward, somehow pushing his cock even further down my throat. I take every inch of him proudly.

Seconds later, I feel his cock twitch inside of my mouth before he cums with a moan, and I feel his hot seed fill up my mouth and slide down my throat. I swallow every inch of it while my eyes remain glued to his face, relishing every single emotion that washes across it as he orgasms hard. It isn’t until his body relaxes fully that I finally pull my mouth away, gasping for air like I’ve just come up from a dive.

“Fuck, Gwen,” Roman grumbles, grabbing my head and bringing me up onto his lap, pressing our lips together. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes between kisses, his hand wrapped around my throat to pull me closer. His hands push my dress to rest on my hips, and I feel him sliding my panties to the side, his cock poking at my wetness and separating my folds.

“And mine. All mine. Mine .”