27. Kristof

"Idon't care. Just find a way to delay it!"

It's a big ask. I know that as soon as I hang up on Ivan and slam the front door behind me. My house is next in the search, and if I'm not careful, they'll turn up when Alena is still upstairs, none the wiser.

I can't have a fucking property search fuck this all up for me.

Not when I've just persuaded Seamus that he has nothing to worry about.

At the bottom of the stairs, I force a deep breath to calm the turmoil raging inside me. My plans to get Alena out of the country need to be moved up. The only reason I delayed them slightly was because she enjoyed being out of the basement so much that I didn't want to rush things. I have no choice now.

Striding up the stairs, I head straight for Alena's room, and when I walk through the door, she immediately sets down her book. Her beautiful face breaks out into a warm smile, and just like that, a sensation of calm washes over me.

Everything will be alright.

As long as I have her.

"Kristof?" Her smile turns into a slight frown as she eyes me. "Is everything alright?"

My grip tightens on the doorknob, and I nod. "Yes. Dinner. What are you hungry for?"

"Dinner?" Her eyes dart to the clock and she chuckles softly. "Maybe something light, like a stir-fry?"

"Consider it done."

As I turn to leave, racking my brain for what ingredients I have that I could toss into the meal, Alena leaps off the bed and hurries over.

"Can I come with you?"

"Of course."

Habit has me reaching for the silver chain dangling from her collar, but to my surprise, Alena takes my hand and smiles eagerly up at me. It's a smile that melts me, so I allow it and lead her down the stairs to the kitchen. She bounces slightly on her toes with each step, then slides onto one of the stools and sucks in a short, sharp breath.

That must be the plug nestled inside her. That's become a constant thing, even though we're technically on a pause for her to recover.

"What put you in the mood to cook?" Alena asks, plucking a daisy from the small vase on the counter and twiddling it between her fingers.

I can't tell her the truth. How my tentative deal with the Irish is on a knife edge because I kidnapped her and interrupted the flow of the Orlova way of life. How I've been planning to oust her father for months for the good of the Family, or how close we are to being discovered.

"I'm restless," I tell her instead, gathering veg and chicken from the fridge. "And I missed you."

"Aw, I missed you too." She giggles.

I'm not much of a cook, but I can manage a stir-fry. A lot of chopping and tossing things into a wok with a sweet soy sauce that Alena prefers, and we're halfway there.

"So, how was your day?" Alena asks above the sizzling of the meat. My hand pauses briefly. Is she searching for specific information or is she genuinely curious?

Trust is building between us, that much is true, but I am still wary.

"Mundane," I reply. "You know how it is. Lots of barking orders, go here, do that, threaten that guy." I toss the ingredients in the wok as the scents of spices mingles in the air. "I'd rather hear about your day."

"Because my day is so exciting," she scoffs. She straightens up and tilts her head. "I finished the pirate story I was reading. It was amazing!"

My mind drifts back to catching her touching herself on the CCTV.

"And now I'm reading an archeology book, although that one is a little harder to follow."

"Is that something you're interested in?"

"A little," she muses. "All the treasure hunting and excavation in the pirate story has me interested. I mean, who doesn't want to be Tomb Raider, right?"

I glance over my shoulder, and she meets my gaze instantly. I would absolutely not be against seeing Alena dressed up like in Tomb Raider. Taking in her body, it's pleasing to see how well her body is healing from the whip a few days ago.

"And you're healing okay? No issues or concerns?"

"Nope," she replies, popping the P as she does so. "I'm fine. Always."

"Good."

"Although…"

"Yes?" I raise a brow, and she presses both palms on the counter.

"Can you change my plug? I know you said the silicone would be softer, but I miss the metal ones. They're a little heavier and more… comforting." Her cheeks flare pink as if admitting such a thing is shameful. Heat pulls toward my crotch, and I smile. Having Alena actively interested in these things is something I was sure would take longer.

"Of course. Go choose which one."

Alena beams at me and slides from the stool, then darts away. The plugs are kept in my bedroom, a selection of silicone and metal ones of all colors and designs. The princess ones are my favorite. Watching Alena bend over and catching a glimpse of a glittering crystal is sweet.

The food is almost ready by the time Alena returns. She walks right up to me and hands me a silver princess plug with a blue gemstone.

"Happy with this one?"

"Yes." Alena smiles, then she moves to the island counter and bends over, ass out. "Please, Sir?"

I turn down the heat on the stove and turn to Alena, running my eyes over the curve and dip of her spine, down to the ample curve of her ass.

"Relax," I instruct, then stroke my hand down her back.

She shivers immediately and arches into my touch.

With practiced ease, I remove the silicone plug, and Alena whimpers as it pulls free. I pat her hole, slick up the metal plug with the lube she brought, and then very slowly ease the toy back inside her. By the time I'm finished, Alena is panting heavily, and again, I think back to how she teased herself in her room. She must be so riled up. Rather than returning to the food, I slide one hand lightly around her throat and tilt her head backward to meet my gaze.

Her pink cheeks flush from pink to a dark red when I thrust two fingers deep into her pussy, and she moans sharply, eyes wide and her fingers digging into the counter.

"Sir," she gasps out.

"That's a good girl," I coax gently.

Her eyes roll back slightly as I pump my fingers into her, twisting my hand slightly so one free finger can slide through her folds and brush against her clit. Alena jerks against me, and I hold her gaze, not looking away for even a second. She struggles slightly, often closing her eyes as pleasure overtakes her but then quickly opening them again. Very quickly, her body warms in my hands, and the velvety soft heat of her core becomes searing as muscles clamp down around my fingers.

She's so turned on that she's close already.

I hold her gaze, studying the warm chocolate of her eyes and her plush, parted lips. She pants and rocks back against my fingers, repeatedly licking her lower lip and moaning sweetly.

"Sir, please," she finally gasps. "I can't… I can't hold back."

"Then don't," I reply. "Come for me, Alena."

She does immediately. Her eyes close, her moans pitch, and her entire body rolls in a wave as she clenches around my fingers and comes hard.

It's a sight I will never tire of.

"Good girl." She slumps against me, panting, and the pulse in her neck races while she gathers herself.

"Thank you."

I help Alena back to her stool, kiss her temple, and begin dishing up the stir-fry. My own cock aches, but I'm far too distracted to fall into fucking Alena right now. Plus, I want to show her that I mean it when I lay out a break for her body. No matter how desperate I am for her, I won't interrupt her healing time.

Alena eats hungrily, much to my amusement, and I keep one eye on her as I text Ivan to see how he's doing with securing a distraction that will delay the search of my house. He replies instantly, telling me he's working on it and it won't be until tomorrow at the earliest. I send a similar message to Nastja about taking Alena out of the country as soon as possible. She tells me Ivan can secure the plane, but the earliest we can leave without looking suspicious is the end of the week.

That's too long. To delay Aleksander's search for his daughter by that long will take something big. Something intense.

Something I'll have to sacrifice.

We eat in silence, and Alena lightly bumps her knee against my own.

"You look so serious," she says, stabbing a slice of pepper.

"I am serious."

"More than usual."

"It's nothing."

Alena scowls, clearly unhappy about my lack of response, but that can't be my focus right now.

I run through everything in my head. Mara had insisted on searching my places first, to start from the top and work down, but I had persuaded Aleksander how ridiculous that was since no one high up would be bold enough to take Alena—or hide her if she had indeed run away. But I was on the list to keep things fair.

At least, according to Mara.

There's only one thing I can think of that would take the attention of the majority of the Family and pause the property searching.

Chewing aggressively on some chicken, I send a message to Seamus. A series of letters and numbers that, at a glance, just look like garbage. To us, though, it's code for the location of one of my highest-earning clubs along with permission for Seamus to attack and not hold back.

Taking out that club will make Seamus look powerful to his own Family because it's a bold move, and the attack should be shocking enough to distract Aleksander for at least a day or two. I was precious over those clubs, but it"s worth it to gain a few extra days to keep Alena safe and with me.

Seamus replies with the fire emoji, and I roll my eyes.

How that man became Captain, I will never know.

Phone down, my attention is back on Alena who is eating slower now since I snapped at her.

"Don't look so glum."

She shoots me a sharp look. "You're impossible."

"Of course I am."

"One minute, I think I know you, that you're opening up to me, and then the next, you treat me like I'm nothing."

I set my fork down. "Alena, you are not nothing. You are mine."

"But you won't talk to me."

"I talk to you all the time."

"You talk at me. You don't tell me what's going on in your head. What makes you stressed and grumpy. But when you first laid out the rules, you said I had to be honest about how I feel and that I couldn't lie. How is that fair?" Her eyes are accusatory, and she pushes her meal away.

She's right. Annoyingly.

"How many times have you been stabbed, Alena?"

"What?" Her eyes widen. "Never!"

"I've been stabbed in the back more times than I care to recall, so if I tell you my day was fine, then that's all you need to know."

"You don't trust me."

"And yet you're closer to me than anyone has ever been." I smirk slightly, and Alena rolls her eyes, conceding the argument.

I gather the dishes and set them in the sink, running water over them.

"Can I get a cat?"

The question is so sudden and unexpected that I almost don't respond. Turning to her, Alena's arms are crossed over her chest and her mouth is set in a firm line.

"A cat?"

"Yes. I get lonely, and since the most conversation I get out of you is the day was fine, then I need someone to talk to. So, can I get a cat?"

For a moment, I'm at a loss. Then I smile softly.

"A cat is a lot of work, a lot of responsibility."

"I know. But I've always wanted a pet, and putting your inability to open up aside, I do get lonely when you're not here. I love the books and my room and everything, but when it's just me in this big house, I get lonely."

She makes an excellent point. I was perhaps foolish to think Alena would be happy and comforted with just books for company and nothing else.

"Not a dog?"

"No, a cat."

"Dogs can protect you."

"From what, the dust inside your old books?" Alena scoffs. "A cat."

"I'll think about it," I say, storing her desire for a pet in my mind for later. "Come on, bed. It's late."

"You're the one who wanted to eat at three a.m.," she points out, but she slides from the stool regardless. Again, as I reach for her chain, she slips her hand into mine instead, and the warmth is so soft that I can't bring myself to break it.

Leading her upstairs, I take her all the way to bed and watch her as she washes her face and goes through her nightly routine. By the time she's finished, she's minty fresh and she smells like roses. I take her to bed and secure the chain to the headboard, tucking her in under the covers.

"Goodnight, Alena."

As I turn to leave, her hand shoots out and catches my wrist, so I turn back.

"Stay with me," she says. "Please? Just tonight?"

Hesitation pulses through me. I'd never really considered a time when Alena would want me near her, in her space for anything other than sex. Yet here she is, asking me to sleep in bed with her, and I can't resist.

In truth, I don't think I can ever say no to her.

"Are you sure?"

"Please," she says. "Even just until I fall asleep?"

Maybe this is a sign that the loneliness she mentioned is stronger than she's letting on. I should have seen this coming, yet I've been so caught up in making her mine that I didn't think much about what came after.

The flaws of a spur of the moment plan.

"Okay," I agree after a moment.

The smile on her face is the widest I've ever seen. Staying until she falls asleep feels like a good compromise, so I pull off my shirt, remove my shoes, and slide into bed next to her.

Alena immediately latches onto my side, and I drape my arm over her shoulders. With her head on my chest and her warmth pressed against me, the tension within my body very slowly starts to ease. Her breath tickles across my chest, and if I focus hard enough, I can almost feel the lazy thrum of her pulse. I stroke her hair, turn off the light, and listen to her breathing.

Alena falls asleep quickly, tucked up against me like this is where she was born to be. She's warm and comforting, and for a moment, I entertain the idea of what a future could look like for us. A real relationship, giving her my heart and my soul because I trust her not to break it.

It's not until the morning sun warms my face and the sounds of birds singing reach my ears that I realize I fell asleep right next to Alena. I'm curled onto my side with Alena still fast asleep, bundled in my arms. She looks incredibly peaceful, and as I wake up slowly, it hits me like a thump to the chest.

I feel rested.

More rested than I've felt in decades.