18. Vitali

EIGHTEEN

Vitali

G etting my girl into bed while it’s still light outside has my chest puffing up with arrogance. I’m choosing to ignore the fact she pulled an all-nighter so I can take credit for her need to sleep as I leave her surrounded by her annoying cushions and get rid of the grease on my hands. I make sure she’s still asleep before I close the bathroom door and take three pills.

I go back to her and strip down to my boxers before I crawl in beside her. I’ve always been a cuddler as Dani likes to call it, it’s comforting to sleep beside someone and feel their warmth, but Stasi’s body is different, my arms aren’t just seeking comfort I want to provide it.

My beautiful Anastasia is filled with sadness so deep she hides it from herself, hoping no one else sees it. I’ll chain her to me so she never fucking stands on a bridge again. The woman forced herself to be uncomfortable, she likes cooking but only has air in her cupboards, dreams of travelling and locks herself inside her head. A beautifully dangerous contradiction.

She turns rigid in my arms as I pull her into me and kiss the back of her head. Her eyes don’t open, and her breathing shallows. Fear. The same fear when her face was beat to shit at what, thirteen or fourteen years old, and she was ready to end her life before it even began. I should have made the connection sooner since it’s where her dad died, but I’d never spoken a word to her, and I’d stick by my brothers during anything Bratva associated.

Stasi peels one eye open and visibly relaxes seeing me. Her mouth finally opens, saying the worst thing she can in this fucking situation.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Who the fuck else would be in her bed? And whoever the fuck it is had her scared. Sensing my anger and stoking it higher, she tries to take off my ring and my hand wraps around the four digits, keeping it in place.

“I told you, I come in you, I claim you. Do not fucking take it off.”

My voice comes out too rough, but I don’t have the control to be able to soften it with her dismissal. She shrugs, feigning indifference, but I can see her cheek lift and it settles something inside me. Holding her neck loosely so my forearm is pressed between her tits, I pull her closer while she pretends to be a bitch.

“Most girls want diamonds.”

I laugh and love the feeling of her pulse in my hand.

“You’re not most girls.”

We’re sleeping like this from now on, my hand wrapped around her pretty little neck so she can’t run away, and the length of her body pressed against mine.

She’s pissed and pushes her palm against my forehead, creating space as she hisses, “Don’t say shit like that, it’s offensive.”

Every person in my life is a fucking crazy person with a warped sense of etiquette, at least she hasn’t slapped me in the mouth. I’m faster than her and pin her to the mattress with my thighs over her hips and our fingers threaded together. She’s so beautiful and shakes her hair out of her face as I remain above her in awe.

Once her cheek is in view, I dip down and run the flat of my tongue up the length of her face. The playfulness leaves despite her disgust staring at me and there’s too much honesty in my voice.

“You know what’s offensive? You ignoring me when my cum is still inside you.”

Her dismissals hurt, I know it’s not personal, she doesn’t give a fuck about anyone. Inessa is the closest thing she has to a friend but they rarely speak outside of Vlad’s orders. There are no pictures of family or friends around her place, and no one visits her. If I checked Stasi’s cutlery drawer I’d probably find a setting for one person.

My mind is playing tricks on me as she softens and squeezes my hands with an apology. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Fuck, I can’t be angry at her, it’s impossible and I kiss her wet cheek. She tightens her fingers around mine as I loosen my hold and she fills with nerves. I have to strain my ears to pick up her words as she says, “Ask me, you get one question.”

We both know what’s on my mind and I drop down, bringing the sheets up, so we’re locked away from the world. Stasi doesn’t stop me as she turns us on our sides and the light filters through the sheet with her body pressed against mine.

I’ve never been a delicate person, any difficult conversations are avoided, and I know shit that makes me sick to my stomach, but I block it out. Right now, I can’t do that, if I fuck up and the world loses Stasi it’ll tear me into shreds. I’ve spent fourteen years wondering what happened to the girl on the bridge, waiting for her to pop back up again for my own selfish reasons when she’s been in front of me and doing the same thing I was hoping for, keeping me company in my loneliness.

My voice drops to a whisper as I brush her hair behind her ear.

“Why were you on the bridge, sweetness?”

It’s not the outcome, that was obvious. I want to know the buildup so I can fix it, prevent it happening again. Her hair is darker than it was then, and it was too dark for me to see her eyes, but the same sadness radiates off her. I stroke the backs of my fingers across her cheek while we both hold our breath, my gut twists into knots at the sadness in her eyes. They turn watery as she says in a haunted tone.

“I just wanted it to stop, to not be the slut or the tease, but I wanted to be the dead girl.”

She was a fucking kid. Kids can’t be sluts, it’s impossible. Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her temple, and there’s nothing other than conviction in my voice.

“You’re not a slut, Anastasia.”

I’ve fucked more people than she has but no fucker would say that shit to me.If my girl wants to allow people the pleasure of witnessing hers she can do it but it’s not a reason for judgment. It should be fucking applauded because it’s a heavenly sight. People are dumb as fuck, and I know who each fucking voice was calling her a slut, and which called her a tease. I’m a chicken shit not wanting to asking about Borya, but it leaves quieter than anything I’ve ever said before.

“Did he touch you?”

I know the answer, she focuses her fake chats on stepfathers for a fucking reason, my beautiful woman saves a version of herself who had no one.She’s so fucking deluded to think there’s a bad bone in her body when she’s the savior she never had. I’ve seen how hard she works, how she takes ownership for their freedom, and she’ll disregard everything else as long as she has something to research.

And she breaks as she deflects, “You’ve already used your question, Vartanov.”

My formidable woman.

Kissing her crown, I force myself up and rip the sheets off us.

“You any good at your hobby or do you make that leafy shit you eat?” I ask.

It gets her out of her head, and she rolls her eyes at me before getting out of bed. Fuck me, she’s beautiful. It’s a recurring thought any time I see her, sometimes I blink and it’s like I’ve just seen her for the first time again, but she looks even better wearing a T-shirt she stole from me.

Adjusting my dick so it’s not sticking out, I follow after her like a duckling. The domesticity of watching my girl pad into the kitchen in nothing but my T-shirt has me floating to the island and silently watching her. Stasi disappears through a door, revealing hidden fucking treasure making my stomach rumble. The sneaky little thing has a fully stocked pantry but the door is made to look like a shelf. I’m sure I hear angels sing as I watch the strip lights illuminate all the food, snacks, and cakes. Fuck me, she’s beyond perfection because she hides her snacks better than I ever could.

“I need that,” I say as she piles up some jars on the pantry counter.

If I wasn’t already obsessed with her, I definitely am as she turns to look at me over her shoulder with a smile and the most light I’ve ever seen in her eyes as she teases, “Are you trying to get me naked?”

“I like the way you think, malysh, but no. I need your whole hidden pantry thing so the little shits can stop stealing my snacks.”

“You can share with children,” she deadpans and carries out the ingredients for whatever she’s planning to make us.

I want more of her voice so I admit, “I’m not talking about the kids, it’s Inessa and Dani who are the little shits who steal them. If I didn’t know better I’d think they had the munchies.”

Stasi doesn’t say anything as she carefully arranges everything where she wants it. If she’s a shit cook we’ll live, we have preprepared meals at home and she’ll never lift a finger but we can go through the motions of making meals so I can watch her.

“Need help, sweetness?” I ask, dazed and infatuated.

She looks up and narrows her eyes at me as she huffs, “Do you see me joining you in the cage?”

Okay, then.

I rest my cheek on my hand, watching my favorite things – my girl surrounded by food. My dick comes to life as she takes an apron from the back of the shelf-door, it gets even fucking better as she presses play on the remote and the sound of my comfort movie plays behind me. It’s gruesome and fucked up, but my girl is watching it wearing a fucking apron and mixing the ingredients for pancakes opposite me.

My mouth opens, meaning to say something filthy, but the wrong thing comes out.

“Marry me.” I clear my throat and bullshit my way through explaining my dumbass mouth as she freezes and looks two seconds away from beating the shit out of me. “So, I can watch you cook for me in nothing but an apron every morning.”

I get some distance between me and an ass kicking as she takes out a spatula. Fuck, I’m even harder, why the fuck is everything so erotic? No wonder I love food when the utensils to make it are so closely linked to fucking.

I’m smiling like a dopey bastard, hoping she brushes everything off as playful without making me look deeper into why my mouth got away from me. Can I imagine waking up to Stasi every day despite never having it? Yes. Do I want to fuck her for the rest of my life? Also fucking yes. But she doesn’t want marriage or family, it’s the one part of us that doesn’t align. I want that shit, a kid who will make me run away from them while they’re awake, but I’ll tuck them into bed and read them stories or some shit. It will be a fucking menace, a little terror ripping my life apart in the best possible way. One thing I can’t do is force someone into a role they don’t express any interest in. My parents never wanted children, they despised us and took that shit out on us every chance they got. I won’t allow my kid to experience that shit.

I think about it deeper, and she’s never said anything either way on her opinion of being a parent. Oh fuck, if she does then I’ll knock her up while she’s making me pancakes. It would be perfect, and I’d hold her upside down to increase the chances while I eat them. She’s good with Verena, even Vasili likes her and he’s already an asshole like his dad. I’ll die for my nephew and he’s only a toddler, but the kid is going to be a dickhead, it’s in his DNA and he idolizes the psycho. If Vanya is any indication of what Vlad’s offspring will be, they’re all fucking unhinged and I’m glad I’m related to them, so I never end up on their kill lists.I think Dominik even likes spending time around her and he’s well on his way to becoming a sociopath.

I throw out random questions to get Stasi’s guard down and keep my tone light.

“Who would you rather fight, Vlad or Vanya?”

Psycho or psycho junior, they’re both nuts but Vanya packs a different level of nuts with her torture. My girl is perfect, and she has an openness about her as she mixes something in a bowl. This is her happy place; the real Anastasia is in front of me, and her voice is softer as she says, “Neither of them, they scare the shit out of me.”

The conversation is easy and I’m not battling for responses.

I nearly fall off my seat when she engages me.

“Would you rather never eat or never have sex again?”

She’s proving how much she knows me, my two weaknesses. If the choice was her, it would be an easy pick. But it’s a nameless, faceless fuck that I can live without. She’s adorable and her eyes sparkle, filling with a new light as I say, “Never have sex.”

With anyone other than you.

The longer we continue shooting off random shit, the less tension there is in my body. I know I need to make an excuse to pop some pills when the last dose doesn’t fully dull the pain, but I don’t want to break our bubble.

“Would you rather eat shit that tastes like chocolate,” I ask and her nose scrunches up, “or chocolate that tastes like shit?”

“There’s something wrong with you,” she mumbles.

“How? There’s only one right answer.”

She shakes her head and I gesture for her to go next but she shakes her head and mumbles again, “No, it’s fucked up.”

“Go on, malysh.”

The spatula flattens against the bottom of the bowl as she looks up and she whispers, “Would you rather kill Vlad or Val?”

I pause.

“Forget it, I said it was fucked up,” she waves the question away.

“Stas, it’s not fucked up, I’ve thought about it before,” I admit and she begins stirring the bowl again. “Vlad isn’t really like a brother, he’s more a parent like Dima. Gun to my head? I’d die before I hurt my brothers or anyone in my family.”

A small smile lifts her lips and she looks down, whispering, “They’re very lucky.”

So is she because she’s family now. I’d kill for her, die for her, anything. Fuck, I’m so fucked over her but I can’t get up as my knee twinges. Rubbing the joint to ease the ache, I sit back and ask the real question I want to know. “Do you want kids? Little Stasis running out into the world?”

Please say yes .

I’ll have my literal dream in front of me, but she instantly deflates, the lightness morphing into self-doubt as she breathes out hate for herself and turns to portion out the mixture while saying shit that isn’t true. “No child deserves that.”

The twinges can get fucked, my body might be slow, but I grit my teeth as I limp towards her. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I rest my chin on her shoulder and kiss her cheek.

“Don’t speak about yourself with other people’s words, Anastasia.”

Whenever I use her full name she listens to the words, allows them to sink and gives them weight. My girl hugs my arms and nods while turning the interrogation on me.

“Tell me something no one knows, Tali.”

There’s so much shit in my head but the majority of it isn’t mine, the only thing I have is my knee and it’s not as deep as her hurts.

“I’m still taking the meds.”

Vlad will lock me up if he finds out and Val would bitch enough for me to wish they drilled through my ears instead after my episode a few years ago. I don’t know what I took, if it was a bad batch or if I was fed up but the next day they were both pissed at whatever I’d said and wouldn’t even look at me.

Stasi turns in my arms and smiles up at me. The openness is back, and she traces my features with the tips of her fingers as she asks, “Do you trust me?”

With my life and the future ones we’ll raise together .

Her smile grows as I nod, and she sets a timer before dragging me away from the food. If she needs proof of how fucked I am it’s in my feet moving willingly and my eyes fixed on her rather than the stove.