Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

A my

I woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of Aleksei’s body wrapped around mine. For a moment, I let myself relax into him, savoring the heat of his embrace. His arm was draped over my waist, holding me close against him, his chest rising and falling steadily behind me. For a second, it almost felt like everything was normal, like this was something I could get used to.

But then the memories of last night came rushing back—his hands on my body, his firm command, his mouth between my thighs as he made me come over and over again. My cheeks heated, and I tried to shift away, only for his arm to tighten around me, keeping me in place.

I swallowed hard, the familiar mix of desire and panic rising in my chest.

What was I doing?

I was in bed with my boss—a man who clearly had dangerous connections, a man who had practically forced me to surrender to him. And yet… I couldn’t deny how much I’d enjoyed it.

I turned my head just enough to glance at his face. Even in sleep, there was a certain hardness to his features, like he was never completely at ease. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted, softening his usual severe expression.

“Good morning, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. His eyes opened slowly, those steel-gray irises locking onto mine, and I could see the satisfaction there, the same confidence that had unnerved me from the start.

“Morning,” I whispered back.

Before I could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I’m going to make you breakfast.”

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. One minute he was this demanding, domineering presence, and the next, he was acting like a doting lover.

It was confusing, but also… oddly endearing.

I watched as he slipped out of bed, his broad back and muscled frame disappearing into the hallway. For a moment, I just lay there, trying to process everything. But the truth was the longer I stayed here, the more I realized I didn’t want to leave.

A few minutes later, the smell of coffee and something savory drifted into the bedroom, and I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Reluctantly, I pushed myself out of bed and padded down the hallway.

The kitchen was bright with morning light, and Aleksei was standing at the stove, his movements smooth and efficient. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, revealing the strong lines of his forearms, the tattoos peeking out from beneath the fabric. He looked completely at home, like he did this every morning.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in bed?” he asked without turning around, his voice teasing.

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the doorway. “I don’t take orders very well.”

He turned, a sly smile curving his lips. The same smile he’d had before he’d lifted my skirt and spanked my ass bright red right before he fucked it.

I swallowed past a sudden ball of nerves at the same time my core clenched with desire.

“Come. Eat.” He set a plate down on the counter, the aroma of fresh eggs and buttery toast making my stomach growl.

I hesitated, but the warmth in his gaze—so different from the intense, almost ruthless look he’d had last night—softened something in me. I slid onto one of the barstools and picked up my fork, taking a tentative bite. It was delicious, of course, and I couldn’t help the small hum of appreciation that escaped my lips.

He watched me, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Tell me, baby girl,” he said slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy today?”

I nearly choked on my toast, my cheeks flaming red. I wanted to fire back with a smartass comment, but the look in his eyes had me swallowing my words. I should have been angry, should have walked out and never looked back.

But instead, I found myself nodding, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes, Daddy.”

The smile he gave me was slow and wicked, a promise of good things to come. He leaned down and kissed me deeply, making my knees weak all over again. And as much as I wanted to deny it, the truth was I liked this. I liked the way he took control, the way he pushed me to surrender in ways I never thought I would.

But as he pulled away, his eyes darkened, and the tenderness in his gaze was replaced by something sharper.

“Finish your breakfast, baby girl,” he ordered. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

My pulse quickened and as I watched him walk away, I knew one thing for certain.

I was falling deeper into Aleksei Morozov’s world, and there was no turning back.

The days that followed felt like a blur, a whirlwind of moments that blurred the lines between the life I thought I knew and the dangerous world Aleksei inhabited. He took me with him everywhere. Meetings with men who wore suits that didn’t quite hide the tattoos curling up their necks. Conversations in Russian that I didn’t understand, but I could feel the danger in every word anyway.

I wasn’t blind to the power he wielded, to the way people deferred to him, their voices quiet and respectful when he entered a room. Aleksei wasn’t just part of this world—he commanded it, and I was starting to see how deep his influence ran.

It was about a week later when my phone buzzed while I was sitting at Aleksei’s side during one of his meetings. I glanced down at the screen, my heart lifting a little when I saw Zoey’s name.

Miss your face! Drinks soon? Seriously, I need to see you, babe.

A small smile crept across my lips. I hadn’t seen her since all of this with Aleksei started, and I missed her more than I realized.

When the meeting wrapped up, and Aleksei’s men filed out of the room, I turned to him, clutching my phone like a lifeline. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that familiar smirk that always made my stomach flip.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Zoey wants to grab drinks,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I haven’t seen her in forever, and… I think I should go. She’s my best friend.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something harder, more calculating. He didn’t respond right away, and the silence stretched, making me shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“You want to go out,” he said finally, his tone measured, like he was turning the idea over in his head.

“Yes,” I said, lifting my chin. “I want to see her. She’s important to me.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

“It’s not safe,” he said eventually, his voice low. “Not without protection.”

“Aleksei, it’s just drinks with Zoey at her place. It’s not like I’m walking into a war zone,” I argued, but his expression didn’t budge.

“If you’re going, you’re taking a bodyguard,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

I opened my mouth to protest but stopped myself. He wasn’t going to bend on this, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Fine,” I said, sighing dramatically. “But only if they don’t hover. I don’t want Zoey thinking I’ve suddenly joined the Secret Service.”

Aleksei’s smirk returned, slow and wicked, as he stood and walked over to me.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding around my waist. “I’ll make sure whoever I send knows to stay out of sight.”

Before I could respond, he playfully smacked my bottom, his grin widening when I let out a startled squeak. My cheeks burned, the heat spreading down my neck as I glared up at him.

“Aleksei,” I hissed, trying to sound indignant, but the amusement in his eyes only made me blush harder.

“Go on, tell your friend you’ll meet her,” he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. “But remember, Amy… Daddy expects you to be his very good girl.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling as I turned away to text Zoey back.

I couldn’t wait to see her.

Later that night, I stood outside Zoey’s apartment building, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand with Aleksei’s bodyguard at my side. I had tried not to object too much to him being with me. His name was Roman, and he seemed nice, so I tried to just go with it as much as I could, mostly because the Orlovs were a real threat and Aleksei had warned me that I’d come home to a very real punishment session with his belt if I fought him on this.

The belt had stung when he’d used it last time, so I didn’t really want to find out what it felt like when he used it with punishing hands instead of just trying to turn me on.

Zoey’s building was upscale, with a clean, modern lobby and a doorman who greeted me warmly. He remembered my face and cheerily let me in, even with my hulking bodyguard. I pushed the button to her floor and practically skipped my way to her apartment. He followed in silence.

It was almost like he wasn’t even there, which was nice.

I knocked on her door, and within seconds, Zoey flung it open, grinning as she pulled me into a hug. Her gaze glanced to my bodyguard and then she looked at me quizzically.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s just here for my protection,” I said lamely and she grinned, but the look on her face told me that we were going to talk about this more later.

“Amy! God, I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice warm and full of that infectious energy I loved about her.

“I missed you too,” I said, squeezing her tightly. “I feel like it’s been forever.”

“Well, you’ve been busy apparently,” she teased, waggling her eyebrows and glancing at Roman as she stepped back to let me in. “Wine and charcuterie are already waiting. Come on, spill.”

I laughed, following her into the living room. Thankfully, Roman stayed outside, mumbling something about not wanting to intervene.

Her apartment was just as I remembered—immaculate but cozy, with a soft cream couch, carefully curated art prints on the walls, and a massive coffee table now laden with an Instagram-worthy spread of cheeses, crackers, fruits, and cured meats.

“Wow,” I said, setting the wine down next to an already open bottle. “You didn’t have to go all out.”

“Please,” she scoffed, pouring us each a glass. “I’ve been dying to hear about this mystery man of yours. I figured good snacks and our favorite Tuscan wine were the least I could do.”

I took the glass she handed me, feeling the nervous flutter in my stomach return.

“It’s complicated,” I said, sinking onto the couch.

“Complicated is my favorite kind of gossip,” Zoey said, plopping down beside me. “Now, start from the beginning. What’s his name?”

I hesitated, swirling the wine in my glass. “Aleksei Morozov.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay, fancy. Russian?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, taking a sip of wine. “He’s… intense.”

“Intense how?” she pressed, leaning closer. “Like broody billionaire intense? Or secret bad boy intense?”

“Definitely both,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Remember how I told you about my new boss?”

Her smile faltered. “Not safe? Does this have something to do with the six-foot-five bodyguard outside my door?”

I hesitated, my throat tightening as I considered how much to tell her.

“He’s part of the Russian Bratva,” I said finally.

Her eyes widened and her face paled a little. “Like the mafia ? Amy, what the hell? Are you serious?”

I nodded, my voice dropping. “I didn’t know at first. He didn’t tell me right away, but… yeah. He’s part of it. And it’s not just him—it’s his brothers too. They’re powerful, Zoey. Like, scary powerful.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed, setting her cracker down. “And you’re working for him too?”

“I’m not just working for him,” I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s more than that. I… I’m involved with him.”

Zoey’s mouth fell open, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “You’re dating a mafia boss?”

“It’s not that simple,” I said quickly. “He’s… he’s not what you’d think. Yes, he’s dangerous, but he’s also very protective.”

She stared at me for a moment, then grabbed her wineglass and took a long sip. “Okay. Like, how dangerous are we talking?”

I glanced down at my hands, my mind flashing to the Orlovs and the chaos they’d brought to the gallery. “There’s another family—the Orlovs. They’re trying to move in on Aleksei’s territory, and they’re not playing around. They sent men to one of the auctions. They cut the power, tried to steal some of the pieces. It was… it was bad, Zoey. Really bad.”

She set her glass down carefully. “And you were there for all of this?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I saw things I can’t unsee. Aleksei’s men—they handled it, but it was terrifying…” I trailed off, my stomach tightening at the thought.

Zoey reached over, grabbing my hand. “Amy, this is serious. Are you sure you’re safe with him?”

I met her gaze, my chest tightening.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I feel safer with him than I do without him. He’s… he’s not just some criminal, Zoey. He’s smart, calculated. And he cares about me. I know that much.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re insane, you know that? But I guess I can’t judge. If you’re happy—or at least not dead—I’ll take it.”

I laughed, the sound shaky but real. “Thanks, Zoey. I needed that.”

She raised her glass, a small smile tugging at her lips. “To surviving mob bosses and insane life choices.”

I clinked my glass against hers, taking a sip. Zoey’s expression was still caught somewhere between shock and fascination, and I knew I wasn’t off the hook yet. I could tell by the glint in her eye that she wasn’t going to stop until she had the whole story.

I was going to have to tell her everything.

“Okay, so… I don’t know anything about the Morozovs or the Orlovs for that matter,” Zoey began, twirling her wineglass between her fingers. “But there’s this one guy who comes into the gallery I work at.”

“Yeah?” I prompted, curiosity piqued despite myself.

She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes lighting up. “He’s Italian, hot as sin, and buys everything in cash. And when I say everything, I mean he drops five figures on the regular, like it’s pocket change.”

“That’s… suspicious,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Right? Everyone in the gallery whispers about him. He’s probably mafia too. Like, it’s basically common knowledge in the art world.” She took a sip of wine, her grin turning wicked. “But honestly? He’s the kind of guy I’d do unspeakable things with if he asked. I mean, come on. He’s got that dark, broody thing going on, all confidence and mystery. Total panty-dropper.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, maybe he could help you. Maybe you could drop Aleksei’s name, see if there’s any overlap in the whole mafia social scene?”

“Zoey, I’m not about to waltz into your gallery and start talking Bratva business with some random guy,” I said, though a small part of me filed away the information for later.

“Fair,” she said, shrugging. “But I mean, keep it in your back pocket. Just in case.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, and I took the opportunity to snag another bite of cheese from the charcuterie board.

“So…” she said, drawing the word out as her grin returned. “How good is Aleksei in bed?”

My cheeks instantly flamed, and I coughed, nearly choking on my wine. “Zoey!”

“What? I’m asking the important questions here!” she teased, waggling her eyebrows. “Come on, Amy. Spill!”

I groaned, covering my face with one hand. “I am not having this conversation with you.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” she said, her grin widening. “You can’t just tell me you’re involved with a sexy Russian mafia boss and not give me all the juicy details. I need to live vicariously through you, okay? So, how is he?”

I hesitated, the memories of Aleksei’s hands on me, the way he took control, flashing through my mind. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I fumbled for words.

“Dad—He’s… he’s intense,” I managed, my voice faltering.

Oh, shit. I’d almost called him Daddy right in front of her.

Zoey leaned in closer, her smile downright devious now. “Intense, huh? Like, pulls your hair and whispers filthy things in your ear intense?”

“Zoey!” I squeaked, my blush deepening.

“Oh, my God,” she said, her eyes widening. “He does, doesn’t he? Amy Whitaker, you lucky, dirty—” She stopped, her gaze narrowing as I tried to avoid her eyes. “Wait a second. You almost called him something just now. What was it?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. She’d caught me.

“I didn’t!” I protested, but my voice was too high-pitched to be convincing.

“Oh, you absolutely did,” she said, cackling with delight. “What do you call him? Is it something kinky? Don’t you dare hold out on me, Amy.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “You’re impossible.”

Zoey gasped, her laughter cutting off suddenly. “Wait. I know. You call him Daddy , don’t you?”

“Zoey!”

“Oh, my God, you do!” she exclaimed, leaning back in her chair, and laughing so hard she almost spilled her wine. “You call your boss Daddy! Amy, you dirty girl. Tell me everything! What’s that like? Do you just—what do you even—oh, my God, I can’t breathe!”

I crossed my arms, trying to look indignant, but my blush gave me away. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” she said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “This is the best thing I’ve ever heard all day. My sweet, innocent Amy calling her big dangerous mafia boss Daddy. I’m obsessed. Please tell me he makes you say it all the time.”

“Zoey, I swear to God,” I muttered, but I couldn’t hold back my embarrassed smile.

“Fine, fine,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “But for the record, I fully approve. Daddy Morozov sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”

I groaned again, but I couldn’t help laughing along with her. Zoey’s teasing laughter filled the room as she poured me another glass of wine, her grin as mischievous as ever. I should have stopped at two glasses, but the weight of the past week—the intensity, the danger, the way Aleksei had gotten under my skin—was making it impossible to resist the heady buzz.

“So, come on,” Zoey said, still giddy from our earlier conversation. “You’re not off the hook yet. I need details. What’s Daddy Aleksei like in the bedroom?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “You’re relentless.”

“Damn right I am,” she said, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth. “Now, tell me. Is he bossy? Rough? Both?”

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“He took me over his knee and spanked me.”

The room went silent.

Zoey’s glass paused halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening. “What?”

My face was on fire now, and I tried to wave it off. “Forget I said that.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she said, setting her glass down and leaning forward, her expression a mix of shock and glee. “You do not get to drop a bomb like that and then brush it off. He spanked you? Like, really spanked you? Like ‘pull your panties down, pin you down, and spank your ass bright red’ kind of spanking?”

I hesitated, glancing down at my wineglass as I fidgeted with the stem. I swallowed hard, imagining the whole thing for the billionth time again before I could speak.

“Yes,” I said softly, the word barely audible.

Zoey’s jaw dropped, and then she leaned back in her chair, fanning herself dramatically. “Holy shit. I need a moment.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I said quickly, though my face was burning, and I couldn’t help my small, secret smile.

“Oh, no, it was definitely like that,” Zoey said, grinning. “And don’t you dare lie to me—you liked it, didn’t you?”

I squirmed in my seat, my blush deepening. “I… maybe. A little.”

Zoey gasped, slapping her hands against her thighs. “Amy Whitaker, you little minx! I knew there was a hidden kinky side under all that buttoned-up perfection!”

“Zoey, stop,” I said, but I couldn’t help laughing, the wine making it impossible to stay embarrassed for long.

She shook her head, still grinning as she reached for her wineglass.

“God, I’m so jealous. I’ve had to sit through boring dates with guys who think missionary is the peak of creativity, and here you are, getting spanked by a hot Russian mafia boss. Life isn’t fair.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, Zoey leaned back in her chair, her expression turning dreamy.

“You know, now I’m thinking about the Italian guy from the gallery. Can you imagine him taking me over his knee for a good, hard spanking?” She sighed dramatically, fanning herself again. “I’d never recover, but it would be so worth it.”

I burst out laughing, nearly spilling my wine. “You’re insane.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” she said with a wink. “You’ve got your dangerous Russian Daddy, and I’ll take a dark and broody Italian any day.”

I doubled over with laughter, the wine only making everything funnier. For the first time in weeks, I felt light, free, like the weight of Aleksei’s world had lifted, if only for a little while.

“Okay, okay,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “You win. My life is officially insane, and you’re the only one who can make it feel normal.”

Zoey grinned, raising her glass. “To insane lives and hot, bossy, spank-happy men.”

“To best friends who never let you live anything down,” I countered, clinking my glass against hers.

“Damn straight,” she said with a laugh.