Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

A leksei

The drive back to my penthouse was silent. Amy stared out the window, her fingers twisting in her lap, her mind clearly racing. I kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on her thigh, a gentle reminder that she wasn’t alone. That she was mine, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

By the time we pulled into the underground parking garage, the tension between us was so thick it was almost suffocating. I parked the car and turned to her, my thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.

“Come on,” I said, my voice softer now. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

She hesitated for a moment, then unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. I followed, placing a hand on the small of her back as I guided her to the private elevator that would take us directly to my penthouse.

The ride up was agonizingly slow. I could feel her stealing glances at me, her eyes flicking over the blood on my knuckles, the tension in my jaw. But I said nothing. There would be time for explanations later. Right now, I needed to get her behind closed doors, where I knew she would be safe.

When the elevator doors slid open, I led her into my expansive living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city skyline, but Amy barely glanced at the view. She turned to me, her eyes filled with questions.

“What the hell was all of that?”

“First,” I said, stepping closer, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “you need to know that you’re safe now.”

Her eyes flashed with frustration. “Safe from what, exactly?”

I sighed, my shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “The men you saw tonight work for a rival family,” I said, carefully choosing my words. “They’re trying to move in on my territory. What happened tonight was their way of sending a message.”

Her brows furrowed, confusion mingling with fear. “Territory? What… what do you mean?”

I stepped closer, my hands resting on her shoulders, feeling the tension in her muscles. “The short version is this: I control a lot more than just art in this city. And right now, that means you’re a target too.”

Her eyes widened, her breath hitching. “Are you saying… you’re part of the… mafia?”

I didn’t confirm or deny it, just held her gaze with a steady, unflinching stare.

“What matters is that you’re under my protection now,” I said quietly. “And that means you do as I say.”

Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue, to push back, but I could see the fear and exhaustion in her eyes. The events of the night had taken their toll, and she was on the brink of breaking.

“Go take a shower,” I said, my tone softer now, almost coaxing. “I’ll have something warm waiting for you when you get out.”

She hesitated, then nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. As she turned to head toward the bathroom, I watched her go, a strange mix of protectiveness and desire twisting in my chest.

Tonight had been a close call, but it had only solidified one thing in my mind:

Amy was mine.

And no one, not even Mikhail Orlov, was going to take her away from me.

Not without a fight.

I kept my hands busy in the kitchen while she went to take a shower, chopping vegetables and simmering a rich broth on the stove. The scent of onions, garlic, and herbs filled the air, a familiar comfort that took the edge off the adrenaline still thrumming through my veins.

A short while later, the sound of soft footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see her standing at the edge of the kitchen, her dark hair still damp and curling slightly around her shoulders. She was dressed in one of my shirts, the hem falling just past her thighs. The sight of her like that—vulnerable, yet defiant—did something to me.

“Smells good,” she said quietly, her voice a little shaky.

“It’s just a simple stew,” I replied, ladling the broth into two bowls. “It’ll warm you up though.”

She nodded, her eyes darting around the kitchen, clearly trying to avoid looking at me directly. I brought the bowls to the table, pulling out a chair for her.

“Sit, baby girl,” I said softly. “Eat.”

For a moment, I thought she might argue, but she sank into the chair, her fingers wrapping around the warm bowl. I watched as she took a cautious taste, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I… I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

I sat across from her, watching her eat, waiting for her to say something. Finally, she set the spoon down, her eyes meeting mine with a newfound determination.

“I need you to be honest with me, Aleksei.”

I nodded, setting my own spoon down. “I promised I would.”

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the bowl, her brow furrowed.

“You’re not just an art dealer, are you?” she asked.

I shook my head slowly, holding her gaze. “No, Amy. I’m not.”

She looked down at her hands, then back up at me, her eyes wide and searching. “So, what are you exactly?”

I took a deep breath. She deserved the truth, as much as I could give her.

“I’m part of the Bratva,” I said, my voice low and steady. “The Russian mafia. My brothers and I control a lot of territory in this city—businesses, investments, but also… other things.”

Her face paled slightly, her eyes widening. “And your art gallery?”

“It’s legitimate,” I assured her. “But it also serves other purposes. Money laundering, mostly. It’s a way to keep our assets clean.” I paused, watching her carefully, waiting for her reaction.

She was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tightening around the bowl. “So, everything I’ve been working on… the auctions, the art pieces… they’re all part of this?”

“Not everything,” I said softly. “Much of what we do is completely above board. But some… yes. The Orlovs are trying to muscle in on our territory. What happened tonight was their way of sending a message that they’re on the move and we need to watch our backs.”

Amy’s eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and something else—something like betrayal. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want you involved in this world. But now, after tonight…” I leaned forward, my gaze locking onto hers. “You’ve seen too much, Amy. You’re already a part of it, whether you like it or not.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe, or a way out. But there was no going back. Not now.

“What happens now?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Now,” I said, reaching across the table to take her hand, “I protect you. I make sure no one ever lays a hand on you. But it also means you have to trust me, completely . Do you understand?”

Her fingers trembled in my grasp, but she nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. For the briefest moment, her eyes wavered, the shock of everything I had just revealed reflected in the depths of those blue-gray irises. But then, like a shutter snapping shut, that uncertainty vanished. She lifted her chin, her jaw setting with a resolve that made something tighten in my chest.

“If you can handle it, Aleksei, so can I,” she said, her voice steady, her eyes locked onto mine. There was no tremor, no hesitation. Just pure, unflinching confidence.

Honestly, it was fucking hot.

I stared at her, taken aback by the sudden shift, the way she stood her ground even when her world had just been flipped upside down. This wasn’t a woman cowering in fear or begging for protection—this was someone who had decided, in an instant, that if she was going to be a part of this world, she would face it head-on.

She wasn’t just trying to survive in this darkness; she was ready to carve out a place in it.

A rush of heat surged through me, both arousal and something deeper, something more dangerous. My cock was as hard as a rock and my balls tightened.

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing her chin, tilting her face up to meet mine.

“Careful, baby girl,” I whispered, my breath warm against her lips. “Because once you step into my world, there’s no going back. And if you think you can stand as my equal…” I paused, letting my thumb trace the line of her jaw, “…you’d better be ready for everything that comes with it.”

She didn’t back down, her gaze unyielding. “I’m not afraid,” she said simply. “I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”

I stared at her, my heart pounding with something wild and primal. For the first time in a long time, I felt the thrill of something beyond the usual games of power and control. This wasn’t just about taking her, possessing her. This was about building something stronger—something unbreakable.

Because if she was willing to stand beside me, to become a part of my world, then she wouldn’t just be mine.

She would be my queen.

And God help anyone who tried to come between us.