24. Kristof

Finelychop an onion? The hell does that even mean?

It seems my skills with a blade don't translate well in the kitchen, but for Alena, I'll do my very best. There's a backup meal in the fridge from one of the top chefs in the state if things go awry, and from the look of the chicken, I think I'll have to sample just a portion of the backup meal.

As much as cooking is a terrible skill for me, there's something calming about cooking for Alena. Knowing she's upstairs getting looked after by my sister warms my cold little heart. The last few weeks have been beyond my wildest dreams, and she's exceeded all of my expectations. For so long, I convinced myself that her attempts to assure me of how badly she wanted to be here were just a ploy to catch me off balance.

It seems she's set on proving me wrong. So, I want to pamper her.

She's good and obedient, and she's learning quickly. More than once, she's initiated things when I've barely stepped through the door, and nothing gets me harder than Alena's willingness.

So, I want to be good to her, show her how good of a life I can provide before I have to sneak her out of the country.

Turning off the stove, I discard the charred chicken and collect the chef"s meal from the fridge. The label on the top lists very specific instructions that I follow to the letter. I need this meal to be good so Alena can see that I can provide everything for her.

I'm halfway through plating up the creamy pasta dish when familiar heels click on the floor. I glance up as Nastja appears in the doorway with a light smile on her face.

"Smells good."

"It's not my handiwork," I scoff. "As much as I tried."

"You're telling me the man who's an artist at torture can't cook?"

"You know I can't." I scowl at her, and Nastja laughs.

"I'm only teasing, Brother. There are more important things than cooking."

"I don't care. I wanted it to be good." Frustration sweeps across my shoulders at her teasing. Setting the pan down, I scoop up the side salad I managed to make with minimal destruction and begin adding it to the plate.

"How is Alena?"

"She's fine. In good spirits," Nastja replies. She plucks a slice of cucumber from the bowl as she passes. "She seems content, if that's what you are looking for. But you should be careful about pregnancy. She's not on the pill and never has been, so you have to be careful. She hasn't had her period yet, but judging by dates, she's due soon. I've left a selection of toiletries for her."

A tingle shoots down my spine. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it because breeding Alena flits through my mind often. Fucking her so hard and full that my baby ends up nestled in her belly. How beautiful she would look all swollen and full, all because of me. Her round belly, ample tits, and glowing face as she prepares to bring our child into the world.

A child from us would be the most powerful kid in the world.

"Kristof, are you listening?" Nastja nudges me with her elbow, derailing my thoughts, and I nod quickly.

"I heard you."

Nastja doesn't get her answer, though, because half a second later, Alena appears in the doorway and my entire world narrows in on her.

She's dressed in a floor-length red dress that is sheer enough that I can still see the subtle shadows of her body through the fabric. It hugs her body like a second skin, with the fabric rising slightly over the clamps set on her nipples. The neckline plunges all the way down to her belly button, giving me a full view of the silver chain connecting her tits. The soft back collar stands out stark against her skin, and the chain links down with a single silver decorative chain that hugs her shapely hips. Her platinum-blonde hair is scooped to one side, and her eyes are lined in silver, making her plump ruby-red lips pop.

She's absolutely beautiful and words fail me. A shy smile slips across her face, and her hip cocks to the side as she stands awkwardly in the doorway, pink rushing across her cheeks.

Obsession isn't a strong enough word for the sheer need that soars inside me for Alena.

"I'll see myself out," Nastja says quietly, and she melts away, barely a thought left for her in my mind.

"Do I look okay, Sir?" Alena asks as if she has no idea how fucking mind-blowingly gorgeous she is to me.

"Stunning," I reply, finally finding my voice. "Please, sit."

I point through the archway to the lounge, and she nods. Her eyes linger on me as she passes, and I'm momentarily distracted by the sway of her ass until I collect myself. I have to be careful not to lose myself in her.

Not until we're safe.

With plates in hand, I follow her into the lounge and sit at the dining table. This might be the first time it's ever been used. She sits to my left, and her smile widens at the sight of the food.

"This smells so good," she says, a slight moan to her tone.

"I can't take all the credit," I say.

"I don't care, Sir." She smiles widely. "The thought is what counts the most."

For a moment, I almost feel bashful. Wanting to please Alena beyond my own desires for her is not something I'm used to. She coaxes out a softness in me that I'm certain did not exist before.

"Please, eat."

Silence falls as we eat the food. Half my attention remains on Alena, watching her eat and admiring every inch of her body. The glint in her eyes reflecting the soft light of the room. The subtle way she licks the corner of her mouth after every few bites. Even the quick glances she sends my way when she thinks I'm not looking. I soak it all up.

"So, Sir…"

"You don't need to call me that when we're eating." I love it, but at the dinner table, there's no need.

"Okay. Am I allowed to ask how things are with… with my family?" Alena twists her fork around some pasta and keeps her gaze down, almost as if she expects me to scold her for asking.

I decide to tell her the truth. After all, I"m curious about her reaction.

"They're still looking for you," I say after a bite of pasta. "They put me in charge of the search."

Her eyes flick up to me.

"Your mother's main concern was the wedding, but that date has been and gone, so your disappearance can no longer be hidden from the Kuznetsovs. They took that as well as you can imagine."

Alena's nose scrunches up. "I'm not sorry about that," she says bitterly.

"Indeed. Your father poured every resource into finding you, but lately, the Irish have been more heavy-handed than anyone expected, so that is taking up most of the focus right now." Another bite, and I watch Alena's brow dip.

"And Katja?"

"She's safe. Keeping busy. No harm has come to her."

Alena's shoulders drop slightly in relief, and she smiles. "That's good. I'm glad."

She resumes eating as I study her. She barely showed any reaction to her family, giving more emotion toward Katja than anyone else. Clearly, that girl is more important than I realized.

"Do you want to go home?"

My question has Alena's fork pausing mid-air, and her eyes flick up to meet mine.

"Honestly?" She takes a deep breath. "No. But… every so often, a voice in my head tells me I should want to. That I shouldn't want to be here or even enjoy being here."

My gut clenches. "You enjoy being here?"

Alena's cheeks darken. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Good girl."

As we finish up the pasta, my mind runs. Alena genuinely seems to want to be here, but I am aware that it could just be the excitement of being away from home and living a rebellious fantasy. Only time will tell how much truth there is in her words, but one thing is for sure.

I'm never letting her go.

After clearing the plates, I return to the table with a small wicker bowl of fresh strawberries and a small pot of cream. Sitting next to Alena, I gently brush her hair away from her shoulder and dip one strawberry into the cream. When I offer it out to her, she moves to take it, but I hold it away and tsk softly.

"No. Just eat."

Her dark eyes flick slowly between me and the strawberry. Then, while holding eye contact, she leans forward and wraps her full lips around the berry, taking a slow bite.

Heat rushes to my cock.

"I have a few house rules."

Alena doesn't look surprised.

"You are to remain in your room at all times, especially when I'm not here. The library is the only other room you're permitted to go into when I'm not here. You can wander the rest of the house as long as I am with you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

I slowly dip another strawberry and offer it to her. Alena leans forward and bites the same way, only this time, her tongue darts out to catch some stray cream on the side of her mouth. My cock stirs beneath my jeans.

"After tonight, you will continue to be naked at all times for me unless I grant you something for a special occasion. The house will be warm enough that you will be comfortable, and I will have an entertainment system set up for you."

"As long as I have my books, I will be happy."

Another cream-slathered strawberry is offered to her, and she takes it greedily, her tongue lapping at my fingertips as she leans away.

My brow dips slightly. "You really love to read, don't you?"

"It's quiet. I can lose myself in a hundred different worlds from the comfort of my bed. What's not to like?"

"The library is yours."

The smile she gives me is so warm, so genuine that it jolts my heart slightly.

"What about you?" Alena asks softly. "What do you do to unwind?"

I scoff slightly, coating the last berry. "I fuck you."

"And before me?"

I offer the berry to her, and she eats it slowly, her eyes never leaving me.

"I like to keep active. My work for your father doesn't leave much space for hobbies."

"There's nothing at all you do for fun?" She sounds surprised, and she raises an interesting point. Alcohol is probably the only thing that has calmed me in the past.

"I like to drink."

"That hardly counts." Alena laughs. It's a tinkling, warm sound that settles in my chest.

Standing, I offer my hand, and she takes it immediately. Arm in arm, I lead Alena out of the bay doors and into the garden where the tall trees and thick bushes keep some of the late-evening heat in. Slowly, we wander down the cobblestone path that takes us past marble fountains, carved stone statues of elegant women, and some unkempt bushes.

"Do you have a gardener?" Alena asks, sticking out her free hand and running her fingertip over leaves as we walk.

"Ivan likes to garden, although time has been short lately."

"So, Ivan likes to garden. Nastja likes fashion and dancing, and you just… kill people?"

"What can I say? I enjoy my work."

Alena laughs and her arm tightens around my elbow. "You need to find a way to relax."

"I have you."

"Other than me," she teases softly. "I know. I'll find you a book to read."

"I hate reading."

"Even if I ask you to?"

When she looks up at me, the word no vanishes from my mind. "Fine."

"Awesome." She beams, and for a moment, this feels normal. Like we're two normal people on a normal date, wandering through the garden. My heart clenches faintly as a warm, unfamiliar sensation floods my chest.

"If I'm going to read for you, that's new for me. What's new for you?"

"Everything." Alena sighs, and she skips a little alongside me. "Despite how you kidnapped me, this is the freest I've ever felt. The food I've tried, for one thing. Mara would kill me if she knew I ate McDonald's twice in a row. I'm… I don't know. I'm excited to keep trying new things."

"If there's anything you want, anything you need," I tell her, "you ask me, understand?"

She nods, smiling wildly, and the unfamiliar sensation swells further inside me like a balloon.

Near the end of the path, the cobblestones split. One path loops back through the garden toward the house. I take Alena down the other path where the stones fade away to grass, and we approach a collection of thick trees. On the other side is an embankment framed by a stone wall with a single wooden bench, and the twinkling city spreads out at our feet like a sea of glitter.

"Oh, my," Alena breathes, and she steps half an inch away from me. "The city looks so beautiful from up here."

I only have eyes for her. "Alena?"

She turns to me, a stunning silhouette against the city backdrop. "Yes?"

"Strip."