Ivan

I strode towards my car, furious after the meeting with the Albanian cunt, Bardhok. I unlocked my car and glanced to see Dima approaching with the Albanian mob close behind him.

"Mr Maslow, I think you take offence at my new proposal," he said in his heavy accent.

"Our meeting is over Bardhok. You may want to understand who you are doing business with next time you try to strong-arm me," I said, moving closer to Dima, who was pulling his gun out.

Bardhok's two men were behind him. I could see one with his hand on the hilt of a knife, and the other was reaching towards the inside of his jacket. I rested my hand on my gun and kept my eyes on them.

"I have no need for your business. Good luck finding a replacement," I said, goading him.

His smile warped into a twisted, nasty expression, making me smile. I pulled my gun out and held it up, aiming towards his forehead, making him stop in his approach towards us.

He raised his hands up in the air and spoke in Albanian to his men. They removed their hands away from their weapons.

"We want no trouble," he said.

"No, Bardhok. If that were the case, you wouldn't have followed me here," I glanced at Dima, who had drawn his gun.

"Shoot them all if they give you any trouble, Dima," I said, turning towards my car. "Dump them in the usual hospital."

When I glanced at Bardhok, his eyes widened. I smirked at him before climbing into my car. Dima would have backup following behind him soon, and I was done with Bardhok. A large percentage of my business was legitimate, which was why Bardhok was under the impression that I would capitulate to his demands.

A quote came to my mind.

"Appear weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak."— Sun Tzu.

I saw the rest of the security team coming. The Albanians would live, but they might be a little tender in the morning. They dealt in drugs, but I dealt in diamonds and gold. Dima punched Bardhok in the face as I reversed out of my parking spot. After the amount of travel I had done this week, I was ready to relax at home with Misha.

I put on my Tchaikovsky playlist. The drive home was over an hour, and I needed to wind down. The soothing music helped to relax me. I tapped my fingers over the steering wheel in time with the music. My mother's love of music ensured I had piano lessons in my curriculum. I smiled as I remembered my father's dismay. He loved nothing more than to tease my mother about how she was with me and my brothers.

I voice-activated a call to my grandfather.

" Dedushka , still alive and kicking?"

" Malysh ," he said gruffly. "Still no wife yet? Or did you finally call me to tell me some lucky woman has fallen for the Maslow charm?"

"Why do you always harass me? I haven't found anyone, and if I did, you would be the first to know," I said, smiling at his pet name for me. I was hardly a baby boy at thirty-six.

He sighed heavily.

"By the time you do, I might be in my grave by then."

I rolled my eyes before turning off towards the M40.

"Pickings are thin, Dedushka ."

"Why don't you come back home? I'm sure your mother would have you set up within a week," he said with a snicker.

" Net , that would be a fate worse than death," I said with a shudder. "And don't start with how you nailed Babushka in high school."

My grandparents were high school sweethearts, which made my father the eldest and a shotgun baby. They never stopped after that, and I have three uncles and two aunts.

He was still chuckling when I heard my grandmother speak.

"You should take some notes from your old Dedushka while you can."

"How are you, Babushka ?" I asked in a softer voice.

"We miss you. When are you coming home again, ?"

"I will try soon. I need to clear some business up first," I said.

We chatted and caught up for a few minutes before I hung up, and my music filled the car again. The rest of the journey was what I needed to unwind. It didn't hurt that I was driving my Porsche 911. I relaxed into my seat to enjoy the rest of my commute. It was late by the time I turned into my estate. It was like a fortress surrounded by mature trees for privacy. The gates opened, and I drove up the driveway and parked beside the house.

Gone were my clubbing and whoring days. All I needed was a pipe and an armchair beside a fire. I shook my head and reached for my coat in the back seat. When I lifted it up, I saw a woman underneath it. She quickly hid her head away from me. In the dull light of the car, I saw she had blonde hair, and she didn't look like she was wearing much.

"Who the fuck are you? Did Bardhok send you?" I growled at her.

The last thing I needed was for anyone to find my home. Especially not some Albanian gang whore.

"Fucking answer me," I barked at her, feeling my anger rising as I wondered how the cunts got her into my car.

Her head snapped up, and I saw one bright green eye open. The other was swollen shut. She sat up, yanked the door open, and bolted out of the car. I saw the back of her black top was ripped, and she had bare feet. I shoved the door open and ran after her. There was no way off my estate as it was walled up, and she didn't look as if she could climb up a two-metre wall.

She reached the grass but tripped over. I reached out to grab her, and she began to howl and scream before wiggling around, trying to get out of my arms. I lifted her up.

"Hey, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly.

She began to pant as if she couldn't breathe, but as soon as I loosened my hold on her, she shot off again towards the trees. It didn't take me long to catch up with her again, and this time, I slapped a hand over her mouth and lifted her up to carry her home. I ignored her struggling body because she was terrified, and nothing I could say was going to get through to her.

The front door opened, and Misha came running out. He paused at the squirming girl before he began to growl at her. The girl stopped squirming, and her body froze before I felt her trembling.

" Vniz , Misha," I ordered Misha to back down.

He growled a few more times, but before he quietened down, the girl went slack in my arms and drooped forward. I swung her into my arms and carried her into the house, ignoring Maksim and Lena. When I glanced down at the girl, I noticed her lip was burst and bleeding. Her dark blonde hair was smeared with blood.

Whoever she was, someone had fucked her up, and it had been brutal. She couldn't be more than her early twenties.

"Maksim, call the doctor and tell him it's urgent," I said as I took her upstairs.

When I reached the top of the staircase, I paused for a second before taking her into my bedroom. The feel of her slight body and beaten face made me feel protective towards her. I needed to know how badly she was hurt. Misha nudged my leg and whined.

"Wait, Misha."

I lay the girl on my bed and took her appearance in. She wore jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. The T-shirt was ripped at the seam on her shoulder. There were no shoes or socks. I lifted her foot up and saw the dirt and blood on them. The other wasn't much better. I moved back towards her head and lifted it up to see a nasty cut in her scalp. After placing her head back onto the bed, I checked her arms for needle marks, but she was clean, so she wasn't a junkie. I lifted her hand and inspected her bloody nails. Whoever she had been fighting with had gotten themselves clawed by this little kitten.

This was no girly fight. Her attacker was a man.

∞∞∞

The doctor was checking her vitals before he began to clean and patch her up. He had given her a sedative after she had woken up terrified.

"Do you want a full inspection in case she was raped?"

His words snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at her sleeping face. She looked young and innocent. Half of her face was bloody and swollen between her lip and her eye, but the other half of her face was unmarred and pretty. Someone could have tried to rape her.

I sighed and nodded to him before turning to get her some clean clothes. I took out some shorts and a T-shirt out of my closet.

"It doesn't look good, Mr Maslow."

My fingers gripped the clothing tightly, and I clenched my teeth when I saw the bruising on her ribs. The doctor was running his fingers along her ribs.

"Anything broken?" I asked, trying to keep my anger in check.

"No, thankfully, it's just bruising."

He had cut her T-shirt off, and she wore a plain black bra. There was a scratch above her breast, and I wondered if she'd been raped her. When the doctor began to unbutton her jeans, it made me feel sick that he was about to strip her naked.

"Move, I will do that," I snapped at him.

"Of course, my apologies," he said as he stood up, raising his hands.

I unzipped her jeans and pulled them down her legs. She wore black plain cotton knickers.

"Do you need everything off?" I asked, glancing at the doctor, who was putting on a fresh pair of gloves.

"Yes, I will be quick and as gentle as possible, Mr Maslow."

I pulled her knickers off, and it was impossible not to look at her pussy. There was no blood on her, and her panties were intact. She had a light smattering of hair above her pussy, and it irked me that the doctor would see her like this.

"Be quick," I said roughly.

I let him get on with it as I searched her pockets, but they were empty. There was no ID or money. I checked the bandages on her feet to ensure that I hadn't loosened them by removing her clothes. The wounds weren't as bad once the doctor had cleaned up her feet. Her head had needed a few stitches.

"Uh, she hasn't been assaulted. She is a virgin," he said, snapping off the latex gloves.

I blinked at him before quickly putting my baggy shorts on her. I unfolded my T-shirt and lay it over her naked torso. My protective urges shifted towards an urge to know the woman's story. I stroked her soft cheek.

"How long will it take her to heal from her injuries?" I asked, facing the doctor.

"I'm leaving you some cream to help with her bruising. I will be back to remove the stitches on her head. Do you have some paracetamol at home?"

"Yes," I said, looking at the woman.

He nodded and put two tubes of cream on the bedside table.

"Her head will take anywhere from a week to two weeks, and her ribs will take four to six weeks. The eye socket isn't fractured, and the bruising should heal within a week or so. If she feels sick, vomits, or has any problems with dizziness or blurred vision, then call me straight away. She will heal, Mr Maslow, but she will need to feel safe in her environment."

My eyes narrowed on his.

"Choose your words carefully. This is not my work, nor do I have a habit of brutalising women," I gritted out.

His cheeks flushed before he hastily began to clean up and pack his bag. As soon as he left, I put my T-shirt on her, being careful of her bandaged head. I tucked her under the covers and smoothed her hair away from her face.

I pulled the chair towards my bed and stared at the nameless woman. I'd messaged Dima to send me footage of the car park. I needed to see when she snuck inside and how she got into my car.

I finally understood what my grandfather and father had described when they met my grandmother and mother. I ' d never thought that I ' d be lucky enough to find a woman with whom I had such a visceral reaction to. It wasn't just her body I wanted. No, I wanted so much more. I wanted it all.

I settled into the chair but kept my eyes on my little Kitten. No one would ever lay a finger on her again because instinct told me that she was mine and I was keeping her. The longer I looked at her injured face, the anger within me began to fester until it morphed into a fully-fledged fury like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

This would require extreme patience on my part.