Tempting the Badman (Russian Bratva #5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “What?” I cry out as he starts to walk his gloriously naked, tight ass away from me.

  “You don’t leave this apartment, not for a fuckin’ thing,” he shoots back at me.

  I stand and hurry after him as he makes his way into my bathroom. I ignore the fact that he’s starting the shower, and I stand with my hands on my hips and glare at him.

  “I have a job, clients, a career,” I hiss.

  “Don’t give a fuck,” he grunts as he steps into the shower.

  I follow behind him, not finished with this conversation, and pissed off that he’s announcing what I will and will not do. I’m an adult woman. I have a career, and I cannot just disappear and stay home under house arrest because he’s got his panties in a bunch, all because I won’t do what he wants me to do.

  “You might not give a fuck, but you don’t have a choice. I’m leaving. I’m going into my office and going to work. You want to send Konstantin as my side-kick, whatever, that’s fine. But you’ll not keep me from my job. I have a reputation to uphold,” I shout.

  “I bet you do,” he chuckles.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I quip.

  “Means, I bet most of your clients are men calling you, married or single. They reach out just so they can get a shot at seeing your long legs in your tight-as-fuck skirts and high-as-fuck heels. Means they buy from you not only because you know what you’re doing, but also because you are gorgeous doing it. You don’t wear a ring, so it means that the single ones, or the ones who fuck around on their wives, think they could possibly get a shot at getting underneath those tight-as-fuck skirts and possibly even have those high-as-fuck heels digging into their backs while they’re inside your tight cunt.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but Dominik doesn’t let me. His mouth crashes against mine and he wraps his hands around the backs of my thighs as he picks me up and slams my back against the cool shower wall. He then sinks inside of me with one swift thrust.

  “No man will ever know what it’s like to be inside of your tight cunt again, Inessa, because I own it now,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “Nobody owns me, Dominik,” I whisper into his mouth.

  “Wrong,” he grunts as he pulls out and slams back inside of me to the hilt. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I whimper.

  “I own all of you—every fucking piece of you. Accept it.”

  I don’t get another word out because he leaves me breathless. He fucks me against the shower wall, hard and fast and with all of his strength. He grunts and groans while I gasp, and my breath hitches with each move of his hips. I come with a shout, and he follows closely behind me with his own release. Then his forehead touches mine as he lets my shaky legs fall to the warm tiled flooring.

  “I own you, Inessa,” he whispers, turning away from me with soap in his hand before washing his body.

  He leaves the shower once he’s rinsed off. I follow suit with the soap, but don’t bother washing my hair. This conversation is not over, yet. I grab a towel and hurry into the bedroom to find him already halfway dressed, buttoning his wrinkled shirt.

  “Dominik,” I say, my voice harsh. He turns to me, his blue eyes alight with fire, almost challenging me to say something he doesn’t want to hear. As if he wants me to fight with him about this.

  “You don’t leave today. You don’t leave until I can trust that that suitcase of yours stays in your closet and doesn’t fill itself with clothes and you try to walk out on me. You don’t leave until there’s my baby inside of you. You don’t leave this fucking apartment—not now, and not anytime soon. I told you that you weren’t going to like it, and I wasn’t fucking around. You can make phone calls from here, use your computer to work. The rest of your shit, you’ll have to call your assistant to handle.”

  “I’m not having your baby, not now, and probably not ever.” I snort.

  “The fact that I flushed your birth control after I fucked you into exhaustion last night says otherwise,” he laughs.

  My face drains and I look at him in shock.

  “How dare you,” I whisper.

  “Don’t give a fuck if you’re pissed, Nessa. You’ll get over it,” he shrugs.

  “No, I don’t think I will,” I state firmly, my eyes connected to his and not wavering even slightly.

  Dominik walks up to me, pressing his chest against mine and wrapping his hand around the side of my neck. His other hand wraps around my waist, and he squeezes them both gently before he settles his gaze on me.

  “You’ll get over it when my son is in your belly and my ring is on your finger,” he whispers, his breath fanning my face.

  I look up into his eyes and see that they appear to be sincere. I would love to believe every word of it, but I don’t. This isn’t a man who goes from zero commitment to fully committed in a matter of days. I can’t trust him with my heart, and I sure as fuck cannot trust him with my body—not now.

  “You put your baby inside of me, know that it will be rape, because I have zero intention of allowing that shit to happen consensually,” I growl.

  Dominik doesn’t hide his shock or his hurt expression, and that is something I’ve never seen before. I usually can’t tell what he’s thinking at all, unless he’s horny. But I keep seeing these vulnerable glimpses from him, and it has me second guessing my harsh words.

  “So be it, Inessa. But it’s either that or I marry Larisa. I’m not marrying her, so be ready to fight me when I get home later,” he grinds out before he turns and leaves me standing, wrapped in a towel in my bedroom.

  It takes me a moment to unfreeze myself from my spot. When I do, I run after him, only to find him conversing with Konstantin and two other gigantic men in my living room.

  “She tries to leave, you restrain her,” I hear him announce before he walks out of the door, not looking back at me.

  My eyes fly to Konstantin’s and he shakes his head once, a mixture of emotion in his gaze. The one I see the clearest, sadness. My bottom lip trembles when I realize that I’ve just become a prisoner in my own home, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Uncle Pavlov would probably be relieved that I can’t leave. It would mean I’m protected from whatever danger he’s been afraid is lurking around. I’m stuck here. Completely and totally stuck.

  “I’ll go change,” I whisper.

  Konstantin nods and the other men eye me warily, probably afraid I’m going to try and dupe them into letting me go—but I’m not.

  I feel defeated.

  Dominik has some plans, and they include my body and nothing else. He doesn’t care for me, he just wants out of his marriage, and I’m the lesser of two evils.

  There was a time in my life when I knew who I was supposed to marry. I wasn’t excited about it, but I accepted it. Since Gregori was eliminated, I’ve been free for years, free to do what I please without having the choking feeling of a life doomed to marriage with a Bratva man, a badman.

  Now, the feeling is back, but it’s so much more. Although I didn’t know Gregori, I had high hopes that we could be happy, that our union would turn into love.

  With Dominik, my hopes are nil. He’ll fuck me, but he’ll fuck whoever else he pleases, too. I’ll be this woman he married, and he’ll be appreciative that I’m not the screaming bitch Larisa, but that’s it. That’s all.

  I’ll be the woman who has his children, who he fucks when he’s feeling like he wants a taste of me, or when he’s ready for another child. He’ll give me some sweet words, maybe. I’ll have the best of everything, but I will never have him.

  As much as I would love to stay and talk Inessa into the fact that us being together is the right thing, I don’t have the time; and frankly, I do not have the patience. I pick up my phone, dialing Yakov first to tell him the steps I’ve taken to ensure Inessa’s future pregnancy.

  “She was okay with this?” he asks, sounding a bit surprised. He doesn’t know Inessa well, but he’s met her a few times, and anybody that has laid eyes on her knows she
’s got fire.

  “Fuck no, she’s not,” I grunt as I pull into my apartment parking. I need to run upstairs and change into clean clothes.

  “You made the decision for her,” he murmurs.

  “I did,” I announce as I step inside of the elevator.

  “You call Pavlov?” he asks.

  “He’s next.”

  “Oleg Ivanov?” he asks.

  “After Pavlov. I’m breaking it off now. Inessa is as good as pregnant. There’s no sense in pretending, and after I didn’t show up to the engagement party last night…” I let the words trail off and Yakov starts to chuckle.

  “Oh, fuck, I forgot about that thing. Larisa and Oleg will be wanting your head on a spike,” he chuckles.

  “He fucks with me, that’s a Boyevik fucking with a Brigadier, and I won’t accept that,” I state.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he murmurs. “But this is a circumstance that I’ve never seen before. You should not go it alone,” he rumbles.

  “My Pakhan going to join me?” I grin.

  “Why not? I haven’t checked in with Oleg lately. While I do this, maybe I send my Ashley on over to visit with your Inessa,” he mutters. I close my eyes.

  This is why Yakov is such a wonderful leader; this is why nobody dares to question him. Not only is he completely ruthless, he also gives a shit about his men, about their personal lives, and about their families.

  “I’ll set the meet for later this evening,” I mutter.

  “Before dinner, yeah? I want to be home with my bride,” he says before he ends the call.

  I sigh heavily, quickly changing my clothes before I head back down to my car as I find Oleg’s number and call him.

  “Markov,” he booms. He sounds fucking furious. I almost laugh at him, but I don’t.

  “I need to meet with you, three o’clock this afternoon, work?” I ask, but it’s not really an option. I’m meeting with him, and it will be at three o’clock, whether he likes it or not.

  “We have much to discuss, mainly the reason why you didn’t come to your own fucking engagement party. Larisa was beside herself, inconsolable all evening,” he says. I try my hardest not to burst out into laughter.

  “Three o’clock. Russian Samovar.”

  I end the call, not wishing to hear any of the man’s whining. I drive toward the job that will take up the rest of my day. On my way, I decide to shoot Yakov a text of where and what time to meet Oleg later.

  I call Pavlov but he doesn’t answer, sending me to his voicemail. I decide to try him later, this conversation doesn’t need to be a one sided message from me left on his phone.

  I step foot into the whore house and almost groan. There are a few women hanging around. Unfortunately, they’re all women I’ve fucked, multiple times, and as soon as they see me, they stand and scurry in my direction.

  “I’m here for work today, ladies,” I say, holding up my hand.

  “We won’t take all of your time,” one says, pouting her plump lips at me.

  I glance at her mouth, remembering how pretty her lips always look wrapped around my cock, but I shake my head. I can’t do that. Not right now, anyway. I come home smelling of another woman, and all of Inessa’s claims and fears will be rationalized. I can’t have that. I need her happy and full of my baby. I decline, shaking my head as I walk toward the office.

  Standing in the doorway, in a complete face off with Manya, is the Byki I ordered not to let her inside while I was away. He looks tired, but he’s not about to move an inch to let her in. I feel like shit, since I slept wrapped around a beautiful woman, a woman I fucked multiple times, while he had to fight off the shrew, Manya.

  “You don’t let me in my own office, why?” she asks as I approach.

  “Because your books don’t add up, and I need to find out why,” I grunt as she turns to me with wide eyes. I see a hint of fear in them, and I know that I’m on the right track.

  “You can go,” I murmur to the Byki.

  “Next shift comes on in an hour. I think I can wait it out,” he grunts before he hands me an envelope. “Last night’s till.”

  I take the envelope from him and nod as I unlock the office door and slide inside, ignoring Manya’s yelling as I lock it behind me.

  Today, I figure out just what in the hell is going on here. Manya has been with us since the beginning of this operation. The woman is a bitch, but I’ve never had reason to distrust her—until now. Also, it’s only her girls that live in this house that are getting worked over, and that shit does not sit well with me.

  DRESSED IN A PAIR of leggings and an oversized shirt, I sit on the sofa, my laptop in my lap as I try to work. I have to send any new showings I get to other agents in the office, and with them goes any commission I could get. It pisses me off. The longer I work, the more pissed off I get, and Konstantin must feel it. He sits down in a chair across from me and watches me.

  “Say whatever it is,” I announce.

  “There could be worse situations to be in,” he murmurs.

  “Could be better ones,” I remark.

  “He wants you, not as a mistress, but as a wife. Could be worse.”

  “Yeah, right. Okay,” I snort as I close down my computer.

  “It’s not all bad. He cares for you.”

  “Don’t go there. He doesn’t care for me, not at all. He cares for himself, Konstantin, and you know it. This is all because he doesn’t want to marry Larisa, and he was getting pressured about it. I’m not the bitch Larisa is, and I fucked him and only him, no strings attached for months. Why wouldn’t he want me over her? He can fuck me, knowing I’m not going to be a screaming bitch or a whore, and then he can continue to do as he pleases. Plus, I’m Russian, and that just sweetens the pot,” I point out.

  Konstantin’s eyes widen and I hear the other men who are watching me make noises in the back of their throats. I could give a fuck. It’s the truth. They know it as much as I do. Now I’m stuck, a prisoner in my own home, and prisoner to Dominik—my sole purpose to provide him with a child so he isn’t forced to marry the girl he promised to marry years ago.

  Dominik has lived a life I couldn’t fathom. I want to feel sympathetic toward him, but he keeps saying and doing shit that stops me. I want to scream out in frustration, but I don’t. Instead, I turn the television on and choose to ignore the Byki who are standing guard, and that includes Konstantin.

  A few hours later, there’s a knock at the door. I watch as one of the men looks in my peephole and his shoulders tense. He turns his head and announces that none other than Ashley Chekova is at my door. I stare in shock as he opens the door and the gorgeous blonde Ashley walks through.

  “We need to talk, alone,” she announces.

  I stare at her in surprise and then stand and walk toward my bedroom. I don’t look to see if she’s following me, but I know that she is. When she’s inside of my room, I hear the door close and then I turn around to face her. Her lips are pursed together and she takes me in from head to toe.

  “He’s an ass, an absolute ass, but he’s a good man.” Her voice is almost a whisper.

  I look down and spy a little baby bump under her loose shift dress. It makes me think of my own stomach, and sooner rather than later I’ll have my own bump beneath my clothing and it makes my whole body break out in a sweat at the thought.

  “He’s not a good man,” I reply, trying to keep from panicking.

  “Yakov told me what’s happened, and I could see how you’d believe that. But he is. He’s gone above and beyond his duties when Yakov needed help. He’s never asked for anything, and he’s never complained. He’s always been kind to me, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve also seen the way he looks when he talks about you,” she says, looking up at me.

  “He won’t be faithful to me, and he’s not giving me a choice as to whether or not I want to have his child. The alternative is him marrying Larisa. All of this is because he doesn’t want to marry her. It has nothing t
o do with me. I just happen to be the best alternative for a wife,” I say, closing my eyes as the pain of that truth slices through me.

  Ashley laughs and my head shoots up in surprise.

  “You really believe that, don’t you?” she asks softly. “In the years he’s had to marry Larisa, or figure out a plan B, he’s not once taken to another woman like he has to you. He’s been with other women, but not one has made him even think about breaking his engagement, until you.”

  “He’s being pressured to marry her now. He has six months; he told me,” I point out.

  “You think that man, the man that he is, with the power that he has, couldn’t put off a wedding even longer? Don’t be too stubborn to see that he obviously wants you as his, and he wants more from what you have to offer him,” she says.

  “Other women? I can’t handle it,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

  “Don’t let him go to them,” she states as if it’s as simple as that.

  “Ashley, this is not the adoring Yakov that we’re talking about, this is Dominik,” I point out. She giggles—she giggles uncontrollably—to the point where she lets out a small snort.

  “Inessa, you have no idea. Yakov was not always so adoring. Trust me when I tell you that you can win over all of Dominik. Keep him satisfied in your bed and he’ll never have a reason to leave your side. Keep his heart satisfied, and he’ll never want to hurt you by being with another woman.”

  I stare at her, completely in shock, and I wonder if it’s as simple as that. Could it be as simple as that?

  “Ashley,” I whisper helplessly. She walks over to me and wraps her arms around me in a hug.

  “It is not as bleak as it seems. Trust me, life could be so much worse,” she whispers. She does it in a way that I feel like she knows it could be worse, and it’s not just something she’s telling me. “Now, let’s hang out. I feel like we are acquaintances and I’d rather be friends.”

  I look down at her bright smile and I shake my head.

  “Okay,” I murmur.