Chapter Five

Celia

Present Day

The enormous house Milos lives in leaves me breathless. It isn’t just that it’s huge, it’s that it’s beautiful inside and out. It’s the epitome of a classic Georgian mansion on the outside in all white marble and brick. I’m looking forward to the full tour of the place. The one time I was here I only got to a few rooms beyond the one he put me in.

Before we pull up the front door is open for me. I slide out of the car the minute it comes to a stop without looking back.

A woman is waiting in a gray and white uniform. She curtsies to me. “Would mademoiselle like a drink or something to eat?”

She isn’t the woman who waited on me when I was here before. I wonder if the other woman is still here; then again, Milos mentioned there were three maids as well as a full-time cook and gardener here. I shake my head. “No thank you.”

Peter nods to me, I follow him into a large sitting room. He points to a green silk sofa. “Sit. Milos will be home soon.”

He turns to find Milos crossing the large hall. “Problem?” The word is a dare, he’s speaking Russian.

Peter tilts his head. “Of course, there was. She wouldn’t behave. I picked her up and put her in the car.”

Milos sighs. “Go on.” To me, speaking English. “What did Dominic Sabatini say to you?”

I roll my eyes. “He told me if I need him I could always go to him. What I’ve always known.”

His eyes narrow. “What do you mean you’ve always known? And what the hell did you say to him?”

Shrugging, I study a chipped nail. I’m going to have to do the whole getting my nails done thing. While you’re worried about having your hands inside an animal, you tend not to get your nails done. The women who always had their hands on his arms had perfectly done nails. “I’ve always known I could call Tony or Dominic Sabatini if I needed something. Both men have told me a few different times. They know how Carlo is, what he’s like to me and my sister. I said thank you.”

“You’ve called on them before.” It’s not a question.

I sigh as I admit, “A year or so before I met you, I took Carina to New York for some anime convention thing she always wanted to go to. While we were there we were robbed. I called Carlo. He told me it’s what I got for going. Five minutes later Tony Sabatini called me and asked if I was all right. I told him I wasn’t, but he knew that because he was with Carlo when I called. Three hours later one of his men was in New York with cash for us. The guy protected us for the remaining two days we were there. Dominic was waiting when we landed. Told me if ever I needed help, to call him or Tony day or night.”

“So you could have called Tony or Dominic that night, but instead you called me.” His eyes glow with pleasure. “Why?”

Blushing, I can’t hold his gaze. It’s the first and only time he’s ever referred to the night I called him and he saved my life. Saved my life, then took another person’s life for me. He knows why—if he gets to not answer questions, then so can I. “I’m not quitting my job. You don’t own me until we’re married.”

Turning, he pulls out pocket doors I wasn’t aware were there. They close with an ominous click. I’m up from the sofa, backing away as he stalks me across the silk oriental carpet.

His grin sends a thrill through me I swear I hate. “I’ve owned you for four years, zhena.”

I shake my head, my chest twisting as he calls me wife. Even though it’s true. My back meets a wall. His hands come up on either side of my head, caging me between his hard, powerful body and the wall. Both are immovable. Hunger is coming off him in waves so powerful I fear I’ll be pulled under the current.

He lowers his mouth to my ear, the words slide down my neck. “Four years of those wide silver eyes staring at me with longing. Four years of those little gasps and whimpers. Four years watching your body shiver and shudder with desire. Your breasts swelling and heaving, your nipples hard and demanding my mouth. Four years of the scent of your cunt teasing my senses. Every inch of your beautiful toffee skin belongs to me.”

Oh god, my legs give out in humiliation. Before I hit the floor, I’m in his arms. I resent the electric shock that runs through me, turning me weak and willing for him. I need more, crave all of him against every inch of me.

Back on the silk sofa, I’m in his lap. Milos is all around me and my heart is pounding so hard it fucking hurts. His hand is up in my hair, cupping my cheek but I can’t meet his eyes, my shame too great.

“Mine,” he whispers against my lips. I shiver at how badly I want him to just shut up and kiss me. If he won’t, I will. I press my lips against his and oh god, I was not prepared for the violent electricity. I try to pull away but the hand in my hair tightens as he growls.

His hot, velvet tongue sweeps into my mouth, igniting a raging fire within me. The fire burns beneath my skin, and now it’s too tight and tender to every touch. My hands go around his neck, desperate for something to cling to. Demanding, consuming, thrilling, his kiss is everything and nothing like that one kiss what now feels like forever ago, or like what happened five months ago.

Then it was gentle, exploring, almost sweet. This is sex and sin. I don’t dare deny him everything he demands from me. All I can remember is what he said more than three years ago—he never kissed, yet he wanted to taste me. He tastes of vodka, smoke, and dreams at last come true.

When he tears his mouth from mine everything in me screams in loss. It doesn’t matter my lungs are starving for air, I would rather have Milos than air. His forehead against mine, all I see, breathe and feel is Milos. It’s everything I’ve longed for and it’s better than I ever could have hoped for, because this is real, not the fantasy that’s played in my mind all these years.

His hand tightens in my hair, holding me still. “Behave, kotyonok, this is not why you are here. Keep it up and those sheets your father wants won’t be what he expects.”

Did he really think I was just going to pull down my panties at his command? My stomach twists at the memory of how I had done just that three years ago. This was different, everything was different. “I’m not some little doll you get to pick up and play with when you want.”

I try to pull away only for the hand in my hair to tighten. “Play? There is nothing playful about how badly I want to bury my mouth between your thighs until you scream my name—again.”

The way he brings up last time makes me want to hit him. “You’re disgusting. Let me go.” I groan as I push at his chest.

Oh god, his huge hand is down my pants, tearing away my panties. Two huge fingers are inside me. I’m so red I feel faint at the blood rushing to my head. “Disgusting…oh no, you won’t accuse me when you are so fucking wet for me—” Why the hell does he sound angry?

“Do you get off on humiliating me?” The tears that escape me are one more win for him.

He sighs, I’m out of his arms on the couch on my own. I hate it he’s able to walk away from me so easily. One touch—who the hell am I kidding, a word, sometimes all it took was a look for him to turn me inside out with need for him. Yet, every time he’s barely ruffled. The disparity in his reaction to mine screams it’s nothing to him. It leaves me sure I’ll never be enough for him. If I’m lucky it will be months, but it might only be weeks before he grows bored with me and finds someone else.

Wiping my eyes, I find him on the other side of the room, staring out of the large windows. A meow is my only warning before Koshska jumps into my lap. She is a gorgeous cat, sleek and powerful like her owner. “Koshka, hello gorgeous. Ah, yes, you are such a good kitty.”

I give her the scratches under her chin she loves so much as I run my other hand down her back.

“How is it you are warmer to the cat than me?” Milos asks. His arms are folded across his large chest as he leans against the wall.

“Maybe because I like her better.” I keep my eyes on her.

He chuckles. “You need to quit your job. My men cannot keep you safe at the clinic.”

I shake my head, refusing to look up at him. “Not until we’re married.”

“So you don’t want to start the cat rescue after all?” The words aren’t a question, they’re more of a taunt.

What? “How did you know about that?”

“I know.” He’s not going to tell me. “For your wedding gift I’ll give you the funds and find the property for you to create the rescue as you want. As long as you do not work more than twenty hours a week. You’ll be able to hire staff to cover the hours you cannot.”

Meeting his eyes, the answer is there. The question I had yet was sure I was an idiot for even asking. “Are you mad at the money I wasted?”

An eyebrow goes up. “What money?”

“The money you spent for the scholarship I conveniently received two weeks after I met you. I always wondered. Now that I failed like Carlo knew I would and I’m not continuing on to the vet program, it was all for nothing.” Even now a pang hits me at my failure. At Carlo being right, it was all a waste of money.

He shakes his head. “It was not a waste at all. The money achieved its purpose: it gave you the freedom to continue your education the way you desperately wanted to. You not continuing is not a waste. You tried but did not fail. What would be a waste is continuing aware you hated it simply to prove something to others. You got a bachelor’s degree with honors. Now you have the education necessary to care for and run the rescue—the thing that will truly make you happy.”

I’m not sure if I believe him. My eyes fall from him to Koshka, who stretches up to me, inviting more pets. “Twenty hours a week isn’t nearly enough. Thirty.”

A chuckle shimmers over my sensitive skin. He crosses to me, then he’s on the other end of the sofa. “Twenty hours. I already spent long enough negotiating with your father. We will not negotiate.”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Twenty-five hours a week.”

“Twenty-five hours a week until you are pregnant, then it will be twenty hours a week.” Yellow glows at me.

I hate the way I blush at his mention of me pregnant. “Fine.” I give in more to end this than anything.

His large hand grasps my left hand. There’s that zing of electricity surging through me again. My chest twists at how gently his hand cradles mine, as if it were precious to him. Without a word he slides a ring onto my left ring finger. It’s enormous, not a surprise. That it’s an oval sapphire, so light blue it’s almost silver, is. The diamond halo around it is different, the diamonds are in the shape of marquise and tilted so they look like flames around the center stone.

“This is a sapphire, right?” I ask as I move my hand around, watching the light catch the ring.

Long, elegant fingers run over the back of my hand. “Yes, I went with the one closest to the color of your eyes. Don’t complain about the size, the twenty-two carats are necessary.”

“Twenty-two carats? How the hell is that necessary?” I gasp up at him.

“To ensure anyone glancing at you sees you are very taken and unless they could possibly give you something bigger and better, to keep their eyes moving.” His hand squeezes mine in warning when I try to withdraw it from his. “We marry in thirty-one days.”

“So soon?” I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not he managed to get Carlo to bend to his will. Carlo could be a complete fucker when he didn’t want to do something. If Milos came out on top in the exchange, I can’t help admiring his strength.

“I’m not willing to wait. In exchange for the ridiculous sheets, I will get the month.” There is something in the way he withdraws again, his back meeting the arm of the sofa.

“I’m sorry.” The words are out before I can stop them.

His eyes narrow on me. “What for?”

“Despite what you said, the waste of money on school and the money and concessions Carlo got from you in the negotiations.” My stomach twists at the thought he’ll think this is all too much and not worth it to him.

A shake of his head. “Don’t be. I told you I do not consider the degree you earned a waste. As far as Carlo goes, it’s fine. Dominic kept us from killing each other. The contract is signed but with your father I wouldn’t put it past him to try and renegotiate if he finds out I only ever wanted you from the beginning. Keeping up the pretense we met for the first time today is all I need from you.”

I bite my lip. “I’m not an idiot.”

He nods. “And that’s exactly why I picked you.” Leaning back into the corner of the couch, his arm stretches out like it had on the park bench behind me. “The real heart of the reason mafia marries within mafia isn’t just to keep kingdoms intact, although it is a huge factor. It’s that the women are aware of what it truly takes to run these kingdoms. You won’t ask questions when I have to leave in the middle of the night—you know most of my business will happen in the dark. You’ll raise our sons to be leaders and our daughters to accept this world.”

“Did Anna Kovalenko ask too many questions?” The words are bitter on my tongue.

Is that why he didn’t ask her to marry him? I had hated the thought of him with other women, yet I did my best not to think of it. Those rules he told me helped. No woman were repeated, if they were it never happened twice in a row. But for five long months after he told me to leave and never come back, he was exclusive to her.

I thought I lost him completely. Now he’s ready to marry and procreate, so he’s back. I’m easy, add in I’m the daughter of the Don, and why wouldn’t he pick me? He knows how much I want him, how willing I am to be his little slut. Like he said, why would he want my sister when he could have someone whose body reacted the way mine did to his touch?

Someone who’s already swallowed his immense cock and loved it. I close my eyes against the shame churning within me. Someone who touched themselves to the memory of him using them and fantasies of him doing it again.

His chuckle grates down my spine. All at once I recall the other thing mafia women are raised to be aware of, our men cheat. They have girlfriends by the dozen, and we’re just supposed to accept it the same we do with them coming home with blood on their clothes.

“I won’t put up with you fucking other women. If you do, you aren’t allowed in my bed. I don’t give a fuck how many children you want. I won’t endure the life my mother has lived,” I warn him.

Shaking his head, the grin on his face is wicked and knowing. I’ll put up with whatever the hell he puts me through. It’s what I hate the most. That I’ll be just like my mother, taking whatever scraps of affection he’s willing to give, enduring the humiliation as long as I could have him.

“You keep me satisfied and there will be no other women. I’ll give you the time you need while you are pregnant with our children and after to heal—I won’t seek out another woman during that time. Outside of that you get pissy and continue the bullshit of saying no when you mean yes, and pushing me away when all you want is to hold me close, and I’ll find a woman to satisfy my needs instead of the girl I’ve married.” It’s a warning right back.

I push off the couch. “Fuck you. I want to go home.”

He chuckles. “After the shopping tomorrow you’ll meet with the wedding planner here.”

I don’t look back as I walk out of the room. Peter is standing waiting by the front door.

“Take me home,” I demand. I want to smack him when I see his eyes go behind me to get approval from Milos before nodding.

On the way home I study the ring on my finger. I can’t believe it’s really happening—I’m marrying Milos Levin.

After all this time he wanted me…still wanted me. I was sure after how badly I messed up the last time I saw him, he was completely done with me. He saw me for the girl I still felt I was, not the woman I wanted to be, and he didn’t want anything to do with me.

Sending him the invitation to my graduation was done with my heart in my throat and at the last minute, only a week before the day. Still when he didn’t come, it felt like a clear message—he was done with me.

Although I was sure by then he had paid my tuition. I wanted to ask him, and I thought that would be the time to do it. Then maybe…I don’t know. It didn’t matter because he didn’t come. He didn’t even call or send a card. It had hurt as badly as an actual cut to my skin.

Five months ago I thought I’d ruined everything between us. Deep down I’m grateful I didn’t.