Zahar

CHAPTER 5

ZAHAR

I felt foolish the moment the plane touched down in Los Angeles.

Foolish for coming. Foolish for thinking I could walk into that house again after five years and feel nothing. Foolish for imagining I was still in control of myself.

But the biggest foolery of all was believing I could see her again and not fall apart.

Trixie.

My little princess. Except she wasn’t little anymore. Not even close.

And judging by the way my cock refused to soften since I saw her, I was the biggest, most pathetic kind of fool.

I rubbed my palms down my face as I sat at my bestfriend's dining table, pretending to listen as he spoke, pretending to breathe normally while Trixie clung to my arm like she still had every right to.

Maybe she did.

Maybe I was the one who didn’t deserve it anymore.

Her cheek rested lightly against my shoulder as she talked rapidly about the piano, the swimming lessons I gave her when she was little, the way she used to follow me around like a duckling. Her voice was excited, breathy, too close to my ear—too close to everything I was trying desperately to keep in check.

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes, lashes fluttering like she didn’t even know the power she had. But she knew. God, she had to know. The dress she was wearing should have been illegal—soft silk that clung to her hips, hugged her waist, and dipped so low at the chest that it took every ounce of restraint in my bones not to look down again.

I was already hard. The moment she had jumped into my arms, legs around my waist, breasts mashed into my chest… I was gone. Ruined. Useless.

I tried to put her down. I really did.

But she clung tighter, crying into my neck. Loud, broken sobs. Telling me she missed me. That she worried something bad happened. That I scared her when I disappeared.

And I held her like a man who had no right to hold her.

Like I hadn’t spent five years trying to forget those exact arms around my neck.

If Gabe hadn’t been right there in the living room—laughing, telling me to comfort her, telling me I owed her that much—I might have done something stupid.

Something unforgivable. Something that would’ve made me stay, and I can’t stay. I can’t.

Russia needed me. My father’s empire needed me. The board needed me. The lawyers. The investors. The shareholders. The people who depended on my father’s money—all of it fell on my shoulders the second he died.

I came to America for one day. One. To collect the last things I needed and say goodbye properly before returning home forever.

I never should have walked into this house. I never should have allowed myself to see her. Five years of distance, discipline, and control evaporated the moment she whispered my name.

“Uncle Zahar…”

A whisper that lived in my veins long after she stopped saying it.

“Earth to Zahar?” Gabe said suddenly, snapping me back. “You’re zoning out like hell, man.”

I cleared my throat and pulled my arm subtly, trying to free it from Trixie’s hold without making it obvious. “Just tired. The flight was long.”

Lies.

I was exhausted, yes—but not from the flight.

From her.

Trixie tugged my arm back immediately, hugging it like a damn plush toy and leaning her cheek on my shoulder again. “You didn’t eat the borscht,” she said softly, sounding wounded.

She remembered my favorite food.

I hated that.

“It’s good,” I lied. “I’m just… too tired. Jetlag.”

The truth was, I couldn’t swallow a single spoon because the scent of her perfume was driving me insane.

Her thigh touched mine under the table. Bare skin. Warm. Smooth.

I felt it. Every inch. Every goddamn inch.

She was talking again, smiling at me, eyes bright with adoration she didn’t bother hiding. She didn’t see anything wrong with clinging to me. With touching me. With pressing her body against mine like she used to when she was sixteen—only now she wasn’t sixteen anymore.

She was a woman.

Beautiful. Curvy. Soft. Seductive without even trying.

My cock throbbed so painfully I considered excusing myself to the bathroom.

I shouldn’t have come. I knew it. And now I was sitting here with her hand brushing against mine on the table as she talked about the things we used to do, about how she kept my piano covered and polished all these years.

“You kept it?” I murmured before I could stop myself.

She brightened instantly. “Of course. I even asked Mom not to move it. I played it sometimes… so it wouldn’t feel abandoned.”

My heart clenched.

“Sweetheart,” I said quietly, “it’s just a piano.”

She frowned. “Not to me.”

And damn it all, she looked like she meant it. Like she cared more about my things than I ever deserved.

Why did she have to grow up like this?

Why did she have to look at me like this?

Why did she have to be so… mine?

“If you’re tired,” Victoria said gently, “you should go rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes,” I said immediately. Relief washed over me. I could finally escape from this torture. “I should probably head over to my place.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Trixie said brightly.

“No,” I said too fast. Too sharp. Her smile faltered slightly, and guilt stabbed me in the chest. “I mean… you don’t need to. Stay with your parents.”

She looked down at her lap. “Oh.”

I softened my voice. “Hey.” I lifted her chin with one finger—mistake number nine thousand tonight—and her lips parted slightly. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I promise. First thing.”

Her eyes warmed. She nodded, trying to hide her excitement.

Gabe slapped my back. “We’ll grill breakfast tomorrow like old times.”

I forced a smile. “Looking forward to it.”

Another lie.

I wasn’t staying for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. I’d be gone before any of them woke up.

But I couldn’t tell her that. Not tonight. Not when she’d cried in my arms like I’d left her to drown.

I stood, adjusting the front of my pants discreetly to hide the painful erection that refused to leave. Trixie noticed. Of course she did. Her eyes flickered down, widened slightly, and a faint pink touched her cheeks.

Fuck.

I turned away instantly.

I muttered a few goodnights and walked out of the house as fast as I could without making it obvious I was fleeing.

My mansion was just across the yard—barely a hundred steps. Normally, I loved that distance. Now it was torture.

Cold air hit me, but it didn’t did nothing to my body. My erection still burned painfully against my zipper. My mind still filled with her—her soft body, her scent, her smile, her legs around my waist…

I raked my hand through my hair, swearing under my breath.

I was going to hell for having dirty thoughts about my friend's daughter.

And I deserved it.

By the time I reached my front door, I couldn’t take it anymore. The second I was inside, I shut the door, leaned back against it, and shut my eyes.

I needed to get myself under control. I needed to think rationally, logically. I needed to remember I wasn’t staying. That nothing could happen. That she was Gabe’s daughter. That she trusted me. That she used to call me her favorite person.

And I had an erection from hugging her.

I was a fucking monster.

I walked to my living room, stripped off my shirt, and sat on the couch, trying to breathe.

Don’t think of her. Don’t think of her. Don’t think of her.

But I did.

Her breasts pressed against me. Her thighs around my hips. Her voice whispering my name like she belonged to me.

I cursed violently and shut my eyes.

I needed release. I needed to get this out of my system. I needed to go back to Russia with a clear head.

Just one time.

But even as I palmed myself through my pants, I whispered out loud.

“I will not think about her.”

I will not think about her. I will not think about her.

I will not...

Her smile flashed behind my eyelids.

Her scent filled my lungs.

Her soft voice murmuring, “I missed you, uncle Zahar…”

My hand froze. No. Not her. Anyone but her.

I forced my thoughts elsewhere, to faceless shapes, nameless bodies, meaningless touches—anything but the girl who looked at me like I hung her stars.

But the harder I tried to think of something else, the faster her image pushed its way back into my mind.

Her lips. Her legs. Her warmth. The feel of her body pressed to mine.

“No,” I groaned through clenched teeth. “Please stop. This is wrong.”