Bratva Boss

by Flora Ferrari

  Maybe it was foolish to bring him here, to let him in, but I figured I wouldn't get anywhere if I didn't let him say his piece.

  For a mafia boss, he was kind of… ordinary. Like any other old man you might meet. But I wasn't foolish enough to think that was all he was. I knew from everything I'd heard exactly who he was and what he'd done to climb the totem of power, even if it was difficult to reconcile that side of him with the man who'd smiled so warmly and pulled out a Thermos of tea. I guess it was true to say that the devil has many disguises.

  "What did you want to speak to me about?" I asked, swallowing a mouthful of poppyseed cake and wiping my mouth.

  "Your relationship with Valentin."

  My eyes darted wider. "Oh. Really?"

  Of all the things it could have been, I hadn't expected that in the slightest.

  "I think that you should consider whether he is really the right man for you. You are young, you have your career ahead of you. A very bright one, according to Yolanda."

  I narrowed my eyes, not liking the turn the conversation was taking in the slightest. I'd thought he'd set things up with her so that I could have everything I wanted, not as an alternative to being with Valentin, and if that was the trade he thought he was making, then I wasn't playing. "I love him. And he respects my dancing."

  "My dear, it doesn't matter what he thinks, it will come down to what is possible. On the stage every night of the week, you will become an easy target."

  I leaned back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest. "Mr. Timoshenko, I think you're trying to scare me."

  "You have to understand, I care about Valentin. I do not wish to see him get hurt."

  "Then why are you trying to hurt him?"

  "I am trying to make sure that he has no vulnerabilities."

  "You're trying to make sure he's never happy!"

  He shook his head. "If you won't walk away, then I will have to show him how much of a vulnerability you are."

  From inside his jacket, Timoshenko pulled out a gun and I drew in a sharp breath, on my feet in an instant, already backing away as he trained it on me.

  "Don't be foolish." I gritted my teeth. "If you hurt me, he'll kill you."

  "That is precisely the plan, my dear."

  "What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The man was crazy.

  "If he will not cut you free, then he has to understand the price of keeping you."

  All of a sudden, I understood precisely what Valentin had been trying to avoid telling me he had to do to end this.

  "You're saying it's him or me? What's wrong with you?"

  Across the room, Timoshenko glowered at me. The gun he'd drawn should have terrified me, now that I knew what he planned on doing, but I wasn't scared, I was angry.

  "This is preposterous! You want Valentin to kill you. You want him to be alone, just like you are! I've never met anyone so sad in my whole life!"

  "Stop talking. This is a world you do not understand."

  "Damn right I don't understand it. This is bullshit. You're standing here threatening me because you're trying to piss off your son enough to put a bullet between your eyes. How dare you!"

  "It is none of your business. You don't understand. You have come here from America with all of your perfect ideals and think that you can apply them anywhere. But you are just a silly little girl, and you need to learn when to shut up."

  I pressed my lips together even harder, shaking my head at him.

  "No. You know what, you don't get to dictate terms to me. I'm not part of this little mafia thing you've got going on, and I really could care less about it-"

  "It's not little."

  "I don't care!" I spluttered. "You know what I care about? I care about Valentin, and you're forcing him to kill you because you're too damn stubborn to think there's any other way? When did we end up in Game of fricking Thrones?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Well, maybe you should!"

  Timoshenko narrowed his eyes at me and when he shook his head I saw the ruthless man that Valentin had warned me about in the cool steel of his eyes. I'd let myself think that he was harmless because he was old and sweet to me, because he doted on his goddaughters and seemed to like ballet.

  I shouldn't have been so foolish.

  "You know what? You've really disappointed me. I didn't think anyone could really let their ego get in the way of what makes sense for them, but you've proved me so wrong."

  Without another word, I turned around and walked out of the studio, hoping beyond hope that I hadn't gone too far. Only when the door slammed close behind me did I let myself breathe out and relish the fact that Timoshenko hadn't shot me.

  If Valentin found out about this, he was going to be so, so mad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mia

  A week later, it was as though nothing had ever happened with Timoshenko. I kept expecting Valentin to bring it up, but so far he hadn't even mentioned it. Every day, he'd been up early and back sometimes later than me, holding meeting after meeting, creating liaisons, making plans.

  It seemed like I'd got away with my foolishness, maybe only because Timoshenko couldn't admit to anyone that he'd been soft enough to let me walk away. Whatever the reason was, I wasn't about to question it.

  Life was amazing. I'd got the solo part, much to Maria's fury, and I didn't care about the extra work it took to dance the part, because I was going to make everyone who saw me on stage take note of my name.

  The first night was amazing. The difference between being in the spotlight and being just another of the girls in perfect line was immense and I knew I was never going to be able to go back.

  All week I'd been on top of the world, and the final Saturday performance was the jewel in the crown.

  I was out of breath from the final solo when I ran back onto the stage to a clatter of applause to take my bows with the rest of the dancers.

  They brought the audience lights up and my heart leapt as I saw the whole of the front row on their feet, and all the rows behind them copying, one by one. All the hard work, all the blisters and tears and blood was worth it, just for this.

  Someone brought out flowers and handed me a large bunch of roses and I jogged forward, sending graceful kisses to the audience to show my approval, just as I'd been taught. I was sweaty and aching, but none of that mattered. To them, I was the picture of serenity and I had taken them all away to a fantastical world for the duration of the performance. Just that made it all worthwhile, but the continued applause circling all around me would sustain me for weeks to come.

  I rejoined the ranks and we all took another collective bow, and then one more, as was expected before we all ran back behind stage so that we could funnel through to the dressing room, already dismantling our costumes.

  But Eva grasped my hand tightly, stopping me from darting back, and I shot her a puzzled look. She nodded to the wings and my frown forged as I realized that Valentin was standing there. And every one of the dancers apart from me had noticed.

  As soon as the applause dimmed, Valentin stepped onto the stage, making his way straight for me and I didn't know what to do with myself.

  He had a single red rose in his hand, and before I knew what was happening, Eva had taken my bouquet of white roses from me, and pushed me in his direction.

  In the middle of the stage, right in front of me, Valentin went down on one knee, and suddenly the heat of the bright spotlight was on us.

  My hand drew up to cover my mouth, tears already in my eyes before he took my hand. He was holding a ring box in the other and he deftly flipped it open, nearly blinding me with the sparkle as the fine cut diamond inside threw a million refractions in all different directions from all the stage lights.

  "Oh my God. Valentin. What are you doing?"

  "Mia, you're my first thought every morning and my last thought every night before I go to sleep. I don't want to be without you in my life for another moment. You are
my Prima Ballerina and you always will be. Will you marry me and be my wife?"

  I couldn't stop the sob from escaping, but my tears were far from sad. I couldn't get a single word out, but I didn't need to. All I had to do was nod, and I couldn't have done that more frantically. Squeezing Valentin's hand so tight I must have been hurting him, I pulled him to his feet and buried myself in his arms, hiding from the audience I had been so glad for just moments before.

  "Yes," I whispered against his shoulder. "Yes. I love you. Yes!"

  Valentin tilted my chin up so that I had nowhere else to look but into his eyes, and his lips came down against mine in the most possessive, perfect kiss I ever could have asked for.

  When he pulled away, he took my hand and slid the ring onto my finger with a diamond that sparked into a million rainbows in the bright stage lights. My heart clenched, overcome with the beauty of the moment.

  The applause hit like a wave, louder even then before, and the whole crowd let out a shout that had me laughing against Valentin's lips. Of all the ways he could have chosen to propose, on stage after I'd danced my first solo on the boards of the theatre I'd always dreamed of being part of was the most perfect thing I could have ever dreamed of.

  It didn't matter what he did. The only thing that mattered was us and how well we fit together, and the fact that I could so easily picture myself slotting into his life. Making a family with him, here. I knew with as much certainty that I would die if I couldn't carry on dancing, that I was meant to be with him.

  Around us, the other dancers were clapping too, and Eva was smiling fit to burst. Her eyes twinkled when I looked at her in a way that told me she must have had something to do with getting Valentin backstage. Patron of the theatre or not, he'd have needed a proper inside man, or woman, to get him there at the perfect moment.

  "Thank you," I mouthed to her, silently across the space, but she just made a face like she didn't have any idea what I was talking about.

  I looked back to Valentin, and went up onto my pointes to close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his neck as I kissed him again, flushed with the knowledge that he was now my fiancé. My future husband.

  Valentin lifted me into his arms to the echoing applause of the entire audience and everyone on stage. Like a princess, he carried me right off the stage, and out towards the dressing rooms.

  But he didn't stop. I knew he wasn't going to from the urgency of his steps, and there wasn't a single part of me that wanted him to. I was his ballerina, tutu and all, and tonight he was going to have all of me, the way that I wanted to have all of him.

  The thought of him watching me all evening from the audience while I performed on stage had new meaning for me now. Tonight he'd see me run through every position without a stitch of clothing on, I was going to make sure of it.

  I'd watched him get hard just seeing me rise up on the tips of my toes and stretch into a perfectly balanced arabesque, lying on the bed watching me practice in the mornings before the audition. And I'd felt so powerful knowing that seeing my body do what I'd trained for so long and hard was all it took to have him almost overcome with desire.

  "Do you know what you do to me?"

  I could imagine well enough. It must have been torture to watch me up on stage, being stuck so far away as part of the audience, and knowing that everyone else in the room had equal view of every flex and stretch I made.

  "I think maybe I do."

  Valentin

  It was all I could do to contain myself until I got her home.

  My fiancé. My wonderful Mia was going to be my wife and make me happy for all of our days.

  I carried her across the street and into our building, all the way up the stairs, without the slightest protest of my arms. I would have carried her further without hesitation. All I wanted was closed doors between us and the rest of the world and I fell to my knees in front of her once I set her down on the large bed we had come to share.

  Carefully, I unwound the ribbons that tied her silk shoes to her ankles and pulled off the blocked shoes that kept her feet permanently pointed inside them and she let out a grimace, stretching her toes and moving her ankles around in little circles. I had never understood the torture that dancers willingly put themselves through, but I knew that Mia thought it was all worth it.

  "Do they hurt?"

  Mia bit her lip. "Only when I'm dancing. The pain starts to feel good. And then you just don't feel it any longer."

  Inside her shoes, her toes were strapped carefully, just like a boxer's fists inside their gloves and it was the same kind of tape that I unwound to reveal her perfect, bruised feet. I knew this story well enough. These were the sacrifices that were necessary for her to get where she wanted to be, and just like me, she came to relish the pain of the necessary toil.

  "You like it when it hurts?"

  She let out another soft little groan as I trailed my hand up along her thigh, playing along the seam of her costume, the soft draping fabrics and the silkskin.

  "It means I'm doing something right."

  Carefully, I unlaced the ribbon holding the bodice of her tutu together, and pulled it through. The broad silk was wide enough not to bite into her skin when I wound it around her wrists, binding her arms together. Mia let out a gasp, and her lips formed into a smile.

  "Tighter."

  "Whatever the lady wants." With a grin of my own, I pulled hard on the ribbon, knowing the silk would take the strain as it tightened around her arms. I folded them up at the elbow and used the rest of the length to strap them around her, pulling sharply enough to make her groan.

  "Why is that so good?"

  As flexible as ever, her leg drew up to my shoulder with as little effort as though she was touching my arm with her hand, and a jolt of arousal went right through me.

  "Because now you have no worries. Nothing to decide. You are mine, and you will stay still now."

  Mia bit her lip. "Will I?"

  I pulled the crotch of her tutu roughly to one side, baring the mound of her sex to me as I turned my head to bite at her ankle hard enough to make her moan. "Yes, my love, you will."

  I couldn't resist kissing the high arch of her foot as I strummed her clit with the pad of my thumb and Mia let out a murmur of appreciation at the attention. With a smile, I drew my tongue along the sole of her foot, feeling her squirm as I came up towards her toes.

  Feet had never held so much fascination as they did now. I worshiped the tools Mia used on the stage to accomplish such grace when she danced. Her feet were far from beautiful, but they were perfect - calloused from work and bruised from all that she put them through for her art, and they deserved all of the attention I could give them.

  Slowly, I sucked her big toe into my mouth, watching her face as I swirled my tongue around it, and let the fingers of my other hand slide, knuckle deep, into her leaking pussy. Her breathing caught and faltered as her knees tensed around me.

  "Valentin." Bound as she was, all she could do was struggle on the sheets, unable to touch me and unable to do anything other than let me have her any way that I wanted. I could feel her body clenching greedily around my fingers as I moved them in and out of her, stroking with a firm beckoning gesture against the warmth of her inner walls.

  "Stay still, my love."

  Her ankles were fine and steely strong and just as beautiful as the rest of her lithe and youthful body and her calves and thighs clenched and flexed with the effort of doing what I'd told her to. But she was going to obey me, I knew that without a shadow of a doubt. I didn't need to tie her down for that. Every single inch of her was perfection itself and I would worship her poor abused feet every day of my life if that was what it took to get her to see how much I loved her.

  Next to her, I felt a hundred years old despite the work I put in at the gym and with my fists, as though the struggles I'd lived through and the hours I'd worked had taken a toll that her body had yet to know. But I knew she didn't see that. And I wanted to
keep all that from her.

  She was perfect in her youthful strength and I still couldn't believe that she had said yes, that she was going to be mine.

  "Oh God," she murmured, rocking her hips in against my hand. "Don't stop."

  "Not a chance."

  With my free hand, I pinned her hips, taking pleasure in watching her try to fight her urge to writhe against the sheets. She was my perfect ballerina, and I would be the perfect man for her. The only man for her.

  With a deeply guttural growl, I freed myself and lined myself up with her willing body. Mia splayed her legs wide at the hip, thighs opening purely for me and she let out a series of little huffed whimpers as I pushed inside her, purposefully slow.

  "Oh- oh - please."

  Now I knew she liked it rough, we had so much to play with, so much to explore. I lifted her leg to my shoulder and pressed my thumb in hard against the arch of her foot until she shouted out with a blissful cry, all molten heat and fierce arousal.

  She gasped, struggling to catch her breath as I pushed into her again, my fingers firmly working her foot until she twitched and shuddered. Every part of her was beautiful and she always would be to me.

  "Come for me, Mia."

  She whimpered out a groan that merged into a cry of pleasure she couldn't contain, and all at once I felt her pussy clamp around me, milking my cock for all it was worth. There was nothing I could do but shoot deep inside her. My future wife. The woman who would bear my children.

  The shout I let out must have shaken the walls. I didn't care. Mia was everything to me, and finally I had her forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Valentin

  When a Russian did something, he did it well, and I wanted to show Mia exactly how good we were at striving for perfection. My proposal had been a few days in the making, but what came next was another surprise. The evening wasn't over yet.