Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection

by KL Donn

  I gasp, not liking where my head is spinning. “I’m not some whore to be passed around. If that’s what Viktor expects of me, I’m out. He can do to Marshall as he pleases, but I never want to see him again.” I can feel my emotions clogging my throat as tears hover on my eyelids.

  “Stop being foolish,” he commands, sitting up to meet my stare. “I’m going to kill him!” He growls something that I don’t understand.

  A loud cheer erupts in the room, breaking our intense moment as I focus on the last person I thought I would see again.

  Marshall.

  He begins to walk over to us, and I feel Niko tense before he mutters, “Sorry, princess,” and kisses me square on the lips. I freeze, even more unsure of what’s happening. “Relax and grab my shoulders,” he whispers when I gasp and sticks his tongue in my mouth.

  I do as instructed and arch my back when he places a hand there. Kissing Niko is so foreign to the way Viktor has taken pleasure in surprising me with each one we’ve shared.

  “Didn’t take Russia’s dark prince long to drop you, huh.” Marshall’s snide comment hits me right where it hurts most. My heart.

  “What do you want, Marshall?” Niko grunts, getting to his feet. He stands well over six inches above my father, and to see the man I’ve hated for so long cower brings me great pleasure.

  “Curious about the dynamics is all.” He shrugs. “Do you guys share, or did he use her up and toss her to you for leftovers.” Marshall laughs as my heart cracks in half, and all my anger from the last eighteen years plus tonight rushes forth, and I have no idea what I’m doing.

  “You son of a bitch!” I scream before slapping my father across the face. What I failed to realize was that I had the stem of an empty wine glass in my hand, and it shattered as my palm connected with his cheek.

  Blood streams from the side of his head, and my fingers sting from where I can feel shards of glass digging in as I make a fist. Uncaring that I can feel blood dripping to the ground.

  Marshall reacts just as quickly and matches my action with his own reaction, except he hits harder, dropping me to the floor. I can hear him cursing, calling me ungodly names, but none of it registers as blood rushes to my head.

  “You’re dead, Marshall,” I vaguely hear Viktor snarl as a table collapses under my father’s weight. I gaze up just in time to see Viktor standing over him, his face a mask of murder as Marshall lays unconscious in the mess of broken furniture.

  Before he can move, I see another man rushing up behind him. “Viktor, look out!” I cry.

  Spinning, he sees his attacker and kicks him right in the chest. I watch as the man is thrown backwards and falls to the ground, the breath knocked from his chest.

  Viktor yells something at Niko and Kodiak in Russian, and they both jump into action, leaving the room speechless as he strides towards me.

  “Continue on,” he barks at the man he introduced as Maksim. “Keep that bastard’s share and split it up between tables.”

  Crouching down to where I’m lying still on the floor, Viktor holds out a hand for me, and his face softens as he speaks. “Moya lyubov’, please, allow me to help you.” Reluctantly, I take his hand, but I think the shock of everything that has happened makes me light-headed. My legs buckle, and soon, I’m in Viktor’s arms as he walks out of the room.

  Unsure of my feelings over all the excitement, I remain silent, even when he tries to engage me in conversation. I’m angry and hurt. Things were fantastic until he sent Niko to fetch me, and now, I’m bruised and bloody.

  I’m heartbroken and so far away from my home and my mother’s arms that I could cry. Once in the elevator, I say, “I can walk now.” He refuses to let me go, only grunting when I elbow him in the ribs.

  “Viktor!” I yell. “Put me down, now.”

  “Nyet,” is all he says as the doors ding and open, revealing a busy lobby. Embarrassment heats my face, and it’s then that I notice the bloody mess I’ve made of our clothes and glance at the trail left behind us.

  Staring down at my hand, I see a large slice in the middle of my palm. “Viktor?” I whimper as stinging pain invades my entire hand and up my arm.

  “Ssshh, moya lyubov’, I’ll get you fixed up.” His soothing tone does funny things to my body.

  “It hurts,” I moan. I was never good with pain. Ignoring the staring people, he strides out of the hotel to where the limo is waiting for us. Niko is holding open a door, and I see Kodiak sitting in the front.

  Viktor communicates something else in Russian before climbing into the back with me in his lap. Mere seconds pass once the door is closed behind us before we’re pulling away from the curb. The only sound to break the tense silence is the wheels on the pavement.

  “I am sorry, moya lyubov’. I wanted to protect you, and in doing so, you are hurt.” He nuzzles my neck, laying light kisses along the column.

  My body wants to melt.

  My heart wants to cry.

  My mind is confused.

  5

  Emmy

  As we arrive at Viktor’s personal doctor’s home, I still haven’t been able to speak to him. I don’t know what to say or where to start. My trust was fragile before we met—has it really only twelve hours ago—and now, it’s shattered. I don’t know if I want to work through things or simply let him go.

  “Let me help you,” Viktor snarls when I try to exit the vehicle on my own.

  Acquiescing to his wishes, I wait for him to step out first and then allow him to grip my arms so as not to hurt my hand. The throbbing is only getting worse by the second.

  “Mr. Vashchenko!” a man calls from the lit front porch, a smile on his face. “What have you brought me this evening?”

  “This is Emmaline Taylor,” Viktor says with one hand around my waist and the other holding my arm with the injured hand.

  As we move closer, the doctor’s eyes narrow. “Is he dead?” he growls when he sees the condition I’m in.

  “Not yet,” Viktor retorts.

  “Soon then.” He nods in answer to his own question before opening the door and waving us in. “You know where to go.”

  Viktor guides me to an examination room and easily lifts me onto the bed before reaching into one of the cupboards underneath and grabbing a blanket to place across my lap.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. A chill began working through me on the ride over.

  “Da.” He leans against the wall, watching me as we wait.

  I’ve never done well with uncomfortable silences, and I’m struggling to remain still and quiet. I want to say so many things to him, starting with how his cold glares and silence hurt me most, but I don’t even know if we have that kind of relationship. I’m unsure about what our relationship is. Earlier he spoke of love, this evening, I was dismissed as effortlessly as a fly.

  It’s not until he wraps both of his bulking arms around me that I realize I’m openly crying. “Do not cry, moya lyubov’, please. Anything but your tears.”

  “You made me feel so dirty, Viktor. Like I wasn’t good enough in the face of your people.” I hiccup through the deep breaths, attempting to control myself.

  Tilting my head so our eyes meet, he lowers his forehead to rest against mine and whispers, “Truth is, you are too good for me, sweet Emmaline. I wanted to protect you from Marshall and Oscar Haggen, but in turn, I hurt you. I will render a thousand apologies and beg your forgiveness for a lifetime, but please do not cry.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  “Ahem.” A throat clears and pulls us apart. “Can I have a look at the girl, or are you going to crowd her all night?” The unflappable man smarts off.

  “If you were not my friend, I would snap your neck,” Viktor growls.

  “Yeah, yeah. Always with the threats, Vik, never any follow-through, though. Now, move it.” Giggling at their banter, I find it cute that this man has no fear of someone so many others cower to.

  “Now, Miss Emmaline, tell me, the bastard who did this is fee
ling some pain, too.” Gently gripping my hand, he turns it, so my palm is facing up, spotlighted in the glow of the light.

  “Well, yes. I went to slap him and forgot I was holding a wine glass,” I explain.

  “What the? How do you forget you were holding a wine glass?” He chuckles.

  “The man was my father.” My words denote torment.

  Staring up at me, shock in his eyes, he glances towards Viktor again. “And he still breathes? Viktor, I’m surprised.” The foreboding man only grunts out an answer. “Alright, this is going to need stitches. Do you have any allergies?” I shake my head no. “Back in a jiffy.”

  As he leaves, Viktor comes back to me. “I will do with Marshall as you please.” His voice is so serious, I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

  “I don’t…I don’t know what you want me to say.” I’m so flustered.

  “I want you to tell me you forgive me. I want you to tell me you’re still going to be mine. I want you to tell me I can kill that son of a bitch for laying his filthy hands on you. Mostly, moya lyubov’, I need you to kiss me.” His words are so vehement and impassioned that I have a hard time denying him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening?” I ask him. I need to know that in the future, I won’t be blocked from such things. My heart can’t take it.

  “There wasn’t time. By the time I found out, you were with Niko, and I didn’t want to spend a lot of time explaining.” He holds up a hand when I attempt to interrupt. “I only ever want to protect you, Emmaline. Oscar Haggen is a devious man who will use you to hurt me.” He glares, hating the thought of it. “Make no mistake that any harm that comes to you will not simply hurt me, it will kill me. I can’t and won’t allow that to happen.”

  “If you keep standing there jabbering, I won’t be able to patch her up,” the doctor grumbles behind Viktor’s back.

  “For fuck sakes, Adam!” I know a curse in another language when I hear one. But the man isn’t fazed at all. He finds Viktor’s outrage quite hilarious.

  “This isn’t going to feel pretty,” Adam says as he fills a needle with what I assume will not be pleasant. I reach for Viktor, and he’s at my side in a flash. Holding my hand, allowing me to lean on him as the stinging turns into an inferno, and I want to cry.

  Minutes later, the doc’s finished and wrapping me up after giving me a shot for the pain and instructing Viktor on how to take care of me. After examining the flesh on my cheek that I’ve felt swelling and bruising for a while now, he tells me to ice it and take what I need for any more pain but to relax for a few days and allow my body to heal.

  It’s after midnight by the time we leave, and the medication I was given has kicked in, making my eyes heavy as I’m carried from the car up to Viktor’s house. I drift in and out of consciousness as Viktor changes my clothes and tucks me into bed. His warmth presses into me from behind, and I feel safe again. I feel loved. It’s with those thoughts that I’m able to drift into a sedate sleep, not waking until the sun is up and blinding me.

  Viktor

  I watched her with rapt attention all night. I made sure when she felt discomfort, she was soothed. Her pain was my own. Allowing Adam, a longtime friend, to patch her up and cause her agony had tested my will.

  When I saw Marshall walking towards her table, I knew he was up to no good. I didn’t realize my fierce woman would react the way she had, either. I wasn’t prepared, and the fallout was rage-inducing for me.

  If not for Emmy being present, I would have gladly killed both men right there. Now, I’m faced with a difficult decision about her father and an easy one dealing with Oscar. I do not wish to hurt either Emmy or her mother by simply sending Marshall to an early grave; however, he cannot be allowed to meddle in their lives any longer.

  Early morning light begins to shine through the curtains, and I know I must prepare myself for my woman’s heartache over last evening’s events.

  Reluctantly sliding free of Emmy’s hold, I quietly enter the bathroom and have a quick shower and clean up for the day. Forgoing my usual daily shave, I slip into our shared closet and choose a charcoal gray suit.

  After dressing quickly, I search through the clothes I had ordered for Emmy before she arrived and find a matching dress with gold accents under the bust and in the shoulder straps. Grabbing a pair of matching flats, I place them on the ottoman in the sitting area where she’ll see them once she’s up.

  Searching through her dresser, I find it challenging to decide on a matching bra and panty set because I want her naked under the clothes. However, it’s not necessary for her to be uncomfortable. Knowing she’ll find it difficult to strap a bra on, I only grab a vibrant violet pair of panties and place them over the dress.

  Satisfied with my choices for her, I give one last look to the angel asleep in my bed and leave the room. I have plans to make today. I can’t be distracted by my desire to be buried inside her body all day long.

  Walking towards the opulent staircase, I see Niko and Kodiak heading towards me. “Where’s Marshall?” I demand.

  Kodiak smirks. He may be a quiet man, studious even, but he has a tendency to enjoy meting out fitting punishments, and I have no doubt that Marshall has felt his wrath.

  “Boathouse,” Niko responds.

  “Bring him,” I bite out, nearly unable to speak past my rage. Noticing my assistant Madelyn standing at the bottom of the staircase with a note pad in hand, hair piled on top of her head, staring at something she’s written down, I smile.

  Kodiak doesn’t realize it, but the girl is in love with him. She likely heard us coming and made herself busy. “Good morning, Madelyn,” I greet her, and she looks up at me, a warm smile on her own face.

  “Mr. Vashchenko.” She is more like a little sister than my personal assistant, but she refuses to call me Viktor while working. “Good morning, Kodiak. Nikolai,” she utters with less confidence.

  Niko grunts at her.

  Kodiak ignores her.

  Feeling the way I do with Emmy, I understand her pain. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if Emmy ignored me in the same manner.

  “Get his attention,” I lean down to whisper in her ear as they head out the front door.

  “He doesn’t even know I exist,” she mumbles. Nodding my head, I won’t push her. It’s her choice and his loss.

  “I’d like you to make reservations for Emmy and me at Escape. Inside, but with a waterfront view,” I tell her as I begin to walk. Madelyn has no idea about the illegal poker games, she only handles my legitimate business dealings with the casinos and the single nightclub I own.

  “Sure. Any particular time?” She looks up from her paper, and her glasses slide down her nose, making her look like a librarian.

  Gazing at my watch, I ask, “What’s the schedule for today?”

  “Conference call with PCJ about the construction at Grandeur at eight. Floor manager interview at eleven for The Balance. And then”—she flips a page in her planner—“you’re free and clear until three when you have a meeting with a Chester Blake. He never said what it was about.”

  Chester Blake. I feel I should know the name, but it’s not coming to me. “Give his name to Kodiak and have him run a background check. I’d like more information about him.”

  “Okay. Reservations?”

  “Noon.”

  “Got it.” She walks away, leaving my office to return to her own. I’m going to have to introduce her to Emmy soon.

  “Viktor.” Sacha’s grating voice interrupts my thoughts as she enters my office without knocking. The woman has no boundaries.

  “What?”

  She doesn’t say anything, so I look up from the calendar on my desk to see her scowling. “The staff, they do not wish to take orders from an outsider.”

  I frown. “Outsider?” I know what she means, but I prefer she spell it out for me.

  “An American.” The way she draws the word out makes me wonder if she believes I lack intelligence.

  �
�So?” I match her tone.

  “So? She doesn’t understand our language, let alone our ways.” She throws her hands up in exasperation.

  Standing to my full height of six foot three, I cross my arms and glare as I explain, “She may not understand Russian, but she understands ignorance, and that’s exactly what you’re being right now. You can tell the staff—and this goes for you, too—that if they do not like an order Emmaline gives, they can pack their bags, and I’ll be happy to ship everyone back on the first boat to Russia.”

  Sacha opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Madelyn!” I shout, having another idea.

  “Yes?” She pops her head in the doorway.

  “Call a staff meeting. Everyone who works in the house and on the property. There’s going to be some clearing up of rules around here. I want everyone in the great room in thirty minutes.” Her brows furrow in confusion, but she nods her head and does what I ask. “Anything else, Sacha?” My eyebrows raise, daring her to make a smart-ass comment. She bows her head and leaves the room.

  Sitting back behind my desk, I run a roughened hand down my face. It’s barely seven in the morning, and already, I want to be done with this day. I want to take Emmy somewhere quiet and peaceful and have her all to myself.

  An idea strikes. Sitting up, I call out, “Mad–” only to stop when I see my Emmaline standing in the doorway with an intriguing look on her face, wearing the clothes I set out for her.

  “Good morning, Viktor.” Her shy smile as she holds a bandage in one hand and her shoes in the other are enticing, and my cock twitches.

  “Come.” I wave her over as Madelyn enters, out of breath.

  “What do you need now?” she snaps, annoyed about something. “Oh, hello.” She grins at Emmy.

  “Uhm, hi.” My woman stares between the two of us before I remember they haven’t met.

  “Emmy, this is Madelyn, my long-time assistant. Mads, this is my Emmy.” I walk towards her still form and place an arm around her waist.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Emmy.” Madelyn’s excitement clearly bubbles over. As the only other American woman in the house, I’m sure she’s excited someone won’t be speaking behind her back in another language.