Chapter 17

RAFAIL

Turns out it was Rodion risking his life by interrupting us when she was sitting on my face.

Years later, Rodion sometimes still needs the fear of god put in him. As a boy, he’d tested the patience of saints and devils alike. These days, I’ve eased up on him a bit; he’s managed to avoid the staggering amount of trouble he once found himself in.

My wife is pouting and trying to pretend she isn’t. I spoiled her at first. I couldn’t help it. She was so eager for anything and everything in the bedroom—she was putty in my hands.

But she loves when I tease her. She loves being edged. She’ll come like she never has before, even if I have to torture her a little to get there.

And she will learn to yield to my authority. I won’t ever back down and will insist. She has no choice. It’s the only real way I can keep her safe.

“Now, Rafail,” she says, holding onto my arm as we go downstairs. “You can’t forget it’s Rodion’s birthday.”

Shit. I did forget.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” she says, her lips twitching. Anissa’s been able to forego her crutches and walk on her cast, but she still needs a little assistance.

I shrug.

“Did you have birthday celebrations for them growing up?”

“Um.”

“ Rafail, ” she says reproachfully. How can I tell her I had more important things to tend to? I was holding together an empire, finding my way as a man, and maintaining my family’s legacy. And my parents never made too big of a deal of birthday celebrations.

“We did,” she says with a smile before her words catch up with her. She pauses, gripping the railing for support. “We did. I know we did. I had a mother. Brothers. She made a big deal of birthdays. She made sure we had our favorite food and cake and lavished us with gifts. I can… I can still see a room decorated in pink and gold and a huge pile of gifts waiting for me.” Turning to me, she looks distrustful and confused. “But you said I didn’t have brothers.”

She didn’t. I don’t know why she keeps bringing this up.

“I promise you, Anissa, you had no brothers.” Jesus, if she did, I’d have a lot more to worry about than I do. “Listen, I know you remember brothers, but maybe you had a large extended family? I don’t know. Cousins? I have a few myself.”

“I know,” she says quietly, her normally placid brow troubled. “But… I don’t think they were cousins.”

“Alright.”

“Anyway,” she says, shaking her head. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you wish Rodion a happy birthday, you partake in the birthday festivities, and tonight, we have dinner with your whole family.”

I nod. “Fair enough.” I scratch at my chin. “So what did we get him for his birthday?”

I gave her a credit card last week and carte blanche to buy what she wanted. I thought she might be too timid at first to use it, but it seems another package or three turn up at the doorstep every day. “Pillows for the bedroom,” she said. “You need more color in the office,” or, “I really do need some more yoga pants.”

I don’t care. She can buy anything she wants. She’s prettied up our bedroom with her signature touch. It’s more feminine, and I like it.

“I got him one of those traditional Russian daggers.”

My brows rise in mild surprise. “Kinjal?”

“Mmm. It’s beautiful and well-crafted. A ceremonial one for his collection. He’s older now, you know. Semyon suggested it.”

“Alright,” I say, my hands in my pocket. “But no more weapons without asking me first.”

She looks like she’s going to roll her eyes but thinks better of it.

I knew making her learn to yield would come, eventually.

“He’s headstrong, Anissa.”

“Yes, but he’s come a long way. You said so yourself.”

He has. It took a firm hand and a long time, but he’s getting there.

“What else?”

“Oh, a nice watch. Something masculine, something he can really rely on. It’s a good one, not too extravagant but practical and mature and has all these smartwatch capabilities.”

“Nice.”

“Got him some fancy sneakers, special edition.”

I raise a brow at her.

“They’re cool. He doesn’t always wear all black and boots or suits, like someone I know.”

I scratch my chin. “You want me to wear sneakers?”

She swallows and licks her lips, her voice husky. “I’d get on my knees and do whatever you asked just to see you wearing sneakers and a baseball cap on backward.” Wordlessly, she flexes her fingers over my bicep.

I stare at her so long that she finally giggles. “Are you serious?” I ask her.

She breathes out a sigh and leans on the railing. “ Dead serious.”

Alright, then. Strange, but that’s fine. She’s so damn adorable leaning against the rail I can’t help but crook a finger at her. “Come here.”

She’s in my arms in two steps. I kiss her cheek and run my hand along the back of her neck. She breathes into me, a half sigh, half moan. “You’re such a good girl looking after everyone.” I whisper in her ear, “Now I’m going to look after you. Touch yourself.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Here? Rafail, are you serious?”

I feel my lips curve into a frown. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“No one’s here,” I whisper. “Zoya and Rodion are downstairs. I checked the cameras before we left the room. I wanted to see who knocked on the door.”

I hold her to me, bracing her, as she obediently slides a hand under her dress and tugs her panties down. Her mouth drops open, and her eyes go half-lidded as she strokes her pussy. “Good girl,” I whisper, shoving my hand beside hers and taking over. I stroke until her back arches, and she’s breathing heavily. “Remember that.” I pull my hand aside. “Behave, and you’ll see how well I’ll reward you.”

“Rafail,” she moans, slumping against me. “You’re killing me.”

“So dramatic,” I say, giving her a sharp but playful slap to the ass. “Now go downstairs.”

Turns out she didn’t just get him fancy, expensive sneakers he fairly drools over, a new watch, and a knife. He has packages in a tower so high they wobble before he opens them. She went all out—new clothes, some kind of motorcycle helmet for when he rides, luxury headphones, and new boxing gloves. Tickets to a concert and to get his car detailed. Her eyes dance as he opens one gift at a time.

Zoya watches with a smile on her face as she prepares waffles and bacon, his favorite.

“You spoiled him,” I say, shaking my head, though I’m not really disapproving.

“It’s alright to be spoiled on your birthday.”

When he’s opened everything, Rodion stands and reaches for Anissa. He bends down to engulf her in a big hug. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

When they pull away, tears shine in her eyes. Fuck.

She’s the missing link to the family I didn’t know we needed.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed her.

She’s softened something in me. And for a minute, while I see my bride seamlessly blended into my family, my brother’s shining eyes and my sister’s smile, it feels like I can have it all—my family, my family’s stability… and her.

She watches as we set the table, her eyes dancing with warmth. For someone who’s lost everything and been forced into a situation she didn’t choose, she’s shown so much resilience. Damn, I admire that.

The whole house feels lighter with her here, and the usual tension that weighs on me is nearly… gone.

There’s a strange sense in my chest so foreign I almost don’t recognize it… peace. It’s peace. Maybe, just maybe, I can have her, my beautiful little swan, and everything else. I can still hold onto the control I need to keep the people I love safe and still have her.

My world.

As I glance at her, my hand over hers, she smiles at me. Trusting. Warm. I pull her into me, onto my lap. My beautiful wife. The more time I spend with her, the more I hope she feels what I do, but I know… the moment is perfect. Too perfect, even. Peace isn’t lasting in our world. I might as well enjoy these stolen moments while I can.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Don’t open it,” I snap to Rodion, his hand on the knob.

“Just us,” my uncle yells on the other side.

Anissa frowns. “We should refuse to open and make them come in the way you’ve asked them to.” Her arms cross over her chest, and she says in a haughty tone, “I don’t like them disobeying you.”

I don’t either. I turn to the door. “This one’s locked. Go to the front,” I snap.

They curse, and I can hear the sound of retreating footsteps, but they do what I say. Anissa fairly gloats.

I send Rodion to let them in, and when the door to the kitchen opens, my uncle and aunt make themselves at home.

I don’t like the way my aunt looks at Anissa. “I’m taking Anissa out. We have business in town.” My business involves taking her on a bit of a spending spree before we meet the rest of the family for dinner.

“My, my, my, aren’t we spoiled,” my aunt says with a sour look, staring at the table with strewn wrapping paper and gifts.

“You got your son a Maserati for his sixteenth birthday,” Zoya says, her eyes narrowed. “Rodion got a summons to court for his eighteenth. Seems fair enough he can be spoiled every once in a while.”

Anissa nearly chokes on her tea. My aunt glares at Zoya and opens her mouth to snap back, when Anissa jumps in. No one will be rude to Zoya on her watch. “Excuse me,” she says in her clear, confident voice. “Thank you for coming in the way you were asked. My husband has rules for security purposes.” She smiles sweetly. “Please don’t make that mistake again. I’d hate to see you shot by accident.”

My aunt opens her mouth to protest, but Anissa is not done. “It’s very important that you do what my husband says. He is the one in charge here.”

My uncle stares but nods.

By the time we get to the car, I’m determined to reward her. She snuggles onto my lap.

“You were a good girl in there. Defending your husband.”

She gives me a haughty shrug with her chin in the air. “That bitch will not put down your family and disrespect you. No way .”

I smile into her hair, breathing her in. “Good girl,” I whisper against the shell of her ear. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”

“Ooooh,” she hums.

“Spread your legs, baby doll. Now. ”

She doesn’t need to be asked twice. I slide my hand up her calf, her dress pooling around my wrist, and find the damp warmth of her pussy. “ Jesus , woman. You’re so fucking wet.”

“You’ve been edging me for years ,” she moans. “My god, Rafail, please. ”

“Do you want my mouth or my hands?” I croon in her ear, stroking her swollen clit.

Her voice nearly breaks on a sob. “ Yes. ”

The interior of the car’s filled with her pleas and my dark chuckle as I guide her down onto the leather seat, my grip firm yet measured as I spread her thighs and position her right where I want her. It feels intimate in the small enclosure.

I lean down, my breath hot against her skin, teasing her before I press my mouth to her throbbing, wet core. My tongue slides over her slick, hot folds, and she whimpers into a deep sigh of contentment. “Please, Rafail. I’ll do anything you tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t beg before. I want you. I want your mouth on me. I want to come on your tongue. Please, please. ”

I growl in approval and slide my fingers in her core. She shivers and stabs her fingers into my hair. I hold her thighs as I taste her with deliberate, measured strokes. Every flick of my tongue draws a soft moan from her; the wet sound of my tongue working her to climax mingles with the hum of the engine outside.

She anchors onto my hair as if to hold her in place while my tongue circles and delves deeper, relentless, demanding. “Who owns this cunt?” I growl at her.

“You. You , Rafail,” she says easily, choking on a half sob. “You own all of me. All of me. I’m yours.”

I stroke her again and plunge into her center as her body arches toward me.

“Who’s the one you yield to, little swan?”

“ You. You, Rafail. Always.”

“Good girl.” I reward her with another swipe of my tongue and another until she moans. “Come on my mouth, angel. Come for me,” I breathe out before I stroke her clit again. Her head falls back, and she screams, her body arching into mine.

The walls of her pussy tighten around my fingers as the first wave of pleasure echoes through her body. I hold her hips down forcefully so she doesn’t fly away as she screams my name and comes so hard she’s nearly hoarse. My cock throbs at the sound of her moans, at the way she comes with abandon as though the entire world outside of this car ceases to exist, and all that matters is getting lost in blissful pleasure.

I give her one parting lick of my tongue, and her hips jerk. She whimpers, her eyes closed. I drag her onto my lap as she pants, spent and exhausted.

“Was it worth it?” I say with a dark chuckle.

“I’ll never forgive myself for this,” she replies in a hoarse whisper. “But yes.”

I’m still chuckling when my phone rings. “Goddamn it, they have a knack for interrupting at the worst times.”

“To be fair,” she says in a breathy voice, her eyes still closed. “We have a lot of times we, um… don’t like to be interrupted. Maybe this is why they talk so much at mealtimes.”

True.

I look down at the phone. It’s Semyon.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got strange news, brother.”

“Yeah?” She sighs against my chest, oblivious to the call.

“Someone’s said the Romanovs are in town.”

Why does that make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end? I hardly know them. We’re not enemies, but we’re definitely not friends. I have nothing to fear from them.

“Yeah?”

“Something’s fishy,” Semyon says. “There’s talk of them fleeing from the cartel, but the association’s complicated. Some of their family have married into the cartel, but it appears they made enemies. That isn’t the complicated part though.”

“What is it?” I hate when people take a long time to get to the point.

“They’re looking for their missing sister, Rafail. Her name is Polina.”