Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3)
Page 23
“Promise me you’ll come home to me,” I whisper as I look up into his eyes.
“Always, moyo zolotse,” he whispers before his lips brush mine.
We stay on the couch, his arm around my shoulders, just holding each other for what feels like hours.
“Where is Kiska?” I ask, wondering where my girl is. I’ve seen her every day in the hospital, but the visits were always short.
“School then dance class. She should be home around dinner, which I’ve already ordered to be delivered. Sergei eats with us tonight as well,” he announces. It makes me fall in love with him a little bit more.
“Thank you, for everything,” I whisper.
“You can thank me when you’re able,” he grunts. It makes me giggle.
“We can have sex,” I grin up at him.
“Nyet. You are not well,” he says sternly.
“The doctor said I could. Just nothing too vigorous,” I smile.
“Everything I do to you I do vigorously, Tati,” he chuckles.
“I know,” I sigh dreamily.
“Go and take a bath, soak a while. I have some paperwork to do,” he suggests.
“Will you do your paperwork in the bedroom, so you’re close by?” I ask, feeling needy.
“Of course,” he murmurs before his lips gently brush mine.
Kirill helps me up and starts my bath for me, filling the tub with deliciously scented bubble bath. He warns me not to step inside until he’s back from gathering his work.
Then he helps me disrobe and picks me up like a child before he sets me down in the warm water. He plants a sweet kiss on my forehead and walks into the bedroom, leaving the bathroom door open. He returns a few moments later and places his paperwork on the floor before he sinks down onto it himself.
I watch in shock as he begins to work on the bathroom floor. It brings a tear to my eye, watching him show me how much he loves me. This is the Kirill I remember from my youth. I feel as though he’s finally forgiven me.
Maybe it took something catastrophic to bring us together, to finally let all that other outside shit fall away. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Right here, right now, Kirill is being the sweetest version of himself that I have ever known.
“Don’t get your cast wet, krushka,” he mutters distractedly. It makes me smile.
Kirill’s care and concern since my accident has been beyond anything I have ever expected from him. I knew that had anything happened to me, Kirill is a good man and he would make sure I was taken care of. But this, him being so loving, kind, and considerate, I could have never anticipated.
“I love you, Kirill,” I whisper in his direction, my eyes focused on him bent over his laptop, reading and typing every so often. He stops and looks up, giving me his lopsided grin.
“And I love you, Tati,” he says simply.
I stay in the bath, watching Kirill work, watching the concentration on his face until the water turns cold. Then he helps me out.
I dress in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt before he puts me to bed for a nap. I don’t fight him, because I’m honestly exhausted. He promises to wake me up for dinner and I fall asleep to the sound of him humming in my ear as he strokes the side of my head that is still covered in my beautiful long hair.
I watch her sleep, as I’ve done every day for the past two weeks; except this time, she’s asleep in my bed, in our home—finally. I sigh before I leave the room to let her rest. I’ve already double checked the French doors that lead out to the backyard to make sure they’re locked. She’s safe.
Our house is still protected around the clock by my men. Soon, we’ll have even more soldiers here for her and for my new mission. My phone rings and I answer it immediately.
“Yakov,” I grunt.
“Kirill, friend. How are you?” he asks.
“Good. Did you make it into town?” I ask as I turn on the radio for background noise.
“I did. Ashley and I are on our way to see my sister.”
“Good. We’ll all have breakfast before we head out, the whole group of us. I’ve already ordered an entire spread,” I offer.
“Sounds good,” he grunts.
“See you tomorrow. And Yakov?”
“Yes?”
“You have brought all of your available men?” I ask curiously.
“Of course. They will be arriving throughout the night. Seventy-five men total.”
“Thank you. See you tomorrow,” I say with a smile.
Seventy-five men, along with my hundred. That doesn’t include Pasha’s men, who will be travelling in throughout the night as well.
In all, we have gathered over three hundred and fifty men for this mission. We will not fail. The Cartel will be brought to their knees. They’ll be begging for mercy by the time we are finished with them.
I can’t fucking wait.
The house is full of people. I have never been one to like crowds, but this crowd, my family, I fucking love. There are kids running around everywhere at my feet, and men and women laughing boisterously from every room in the house. I look over to Kiska, who is engaged in a deep conversation with Haleigh about ballet, no doubt.
It makes me smile.
Then Tatyana joins us.
I can’t hide the smile at seeing her hesitantly walk into the room. She looks gorgeous. Both Haleigh and Emiliya brought their hair stylist over late last night, after dinner, to do her hair. She did exactly as Oliver suggested.
There is a pretty pattern shaved into the side of her head that was operated on, and the rest of her hair falls over the opposite shoulder. It’s curled and simply—gorgeous, just as she is. Her makeup is done, and she’s wearing a tight dress that wraps around her body, showing off her curves and generous amount of cleavage.
I walk straight over to her and wrap my hand around her waist before I dip my chin and brush my lips right below her ear.
“You look beautiful, Tati,” I murmur. I feel her shiver in my arms.
“Thank you,” she breathes.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“Not for food, but I could eat,” she quips.
I growl, like a hungry fucking bear, because I want her. I want her so fucking bad, but I don’t want to hurt her, either. I care too much. I love her.
My beautiful survivor—not only of this accident, but of the shit life she’s been dealt.
My gorgeous krushka, who has survived and persevered since she was a tiny girl.
Now, as a woman, she’s even stronger than she has ever been, and it makes me want her even more. I want to watch her be weak only for me, instead of for the world, as I imagined she was for all those years.
“When I get back, yeah?” I ask, running my thumb over her soft bottom lip, my eyes staring into hers.
“Yeah,” she breathes.
I kiss the tip of her nose before I tuck her into my side and take her over to the buffet that’s spread out along the kitchen bar, ignoring a few looks from people who have not seen how I am around her yet.
“You look beautiful,” Emiliya says as she sways from side to side with her little boy nestled in her arms.
“Thank you,” Tatyana murmurs.
“I love how your hair is. I’ve seen so many girls wearing it that way in New York. I’m not brave enough to try anything so bold, but I admire it every time I see it. Somehow, it looks elegant on you, not punk rockish at all,” a soft spoken blonde adds from Emiliya’s side.
“Uh, thank you,” Tati says, politely. I can tell she’s trying to figure out who this woman is, as much as I am.
“Oh, I’m Ashley, I’m Yakov’s,” she says with a smile and a shrug.
I am taken aback by her admission. I saw Ashley once, when I rescued her in South Africa. She looks nothing like the woman who had been held captive for months. She is rounder now, her hair clean and healthy. She is beautiful and obviously a gentle being. I can now understand why Yakov has held such affection for her.
“Yakov is my broth
er,” Emiliya adds. It’s then that Tatyana smiles and nods.
I leave the girls alone to talk, promising that I will return to her side soon. Emiliya and Ashley take her into the living room to sit with Haleigh and Kiska.
I am glad that she’s resting, though the doctor said she could do as much as she felt like doing, aside from vigorous exercise and activities. I still worry. Her fucking head was drilled into less than two weeks ago.
“Your woman has already become part of the fold,” I hear Maxim remark to Yakov as soon as I walk up to the group of men.
“She is very friendly, but painfully shy. Luckily, Emiliya is at her side,” Yakov says with a shrug.
“She looks good,” I remark.
“It has been a tough road. I’m tired,” he murmurs.
I can only imagine the nightmares she’s had since being rescued from that place. I close my eyes and shake the thoughts away. Nobody should have had to go through what she did. But now, now it is all nothing but a memory. Something that happened in her past. It isn’t her future. Just as Tati leaving me isn’t my future; it was our past. It is over. Now, she’s here with me—happily, and breathing.
“I’m sure,” I say gruffly.
“Are we all set to leave at ten?” Pasha asks.
He’s Maxim’s former Pakhan, his mentor, who lives in New York. Pasha is a good man, and a hell of a warrior. I would always choose to fight at his side rather than against him.
“Yes,” I confirm with a nod.
“Good. Sonia is so excited to spend the next few days with all these babies. She’s hounding my son about reproducing. She misses having Maksimilyan at her disposal,” he chuckles.
“How is Timofei?” I ask, inquiring about Pasha’s son.
“Spoiled little pain in my ass. Fucks and fights everything he can. I want him to take over for me, but I fear he’ll never grow up enough to do so. He hardly works,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “At his age, I had such ambitions.”
“He hasn’t suffered like us, Pasha. Something, or someone, will knock him on his ass and he’ll wake up. Don’t worry. What about your girl, how is Oksana?” Maxim asks.
“Same as Timofei, except she better not be fucking anyone. But spoiled, spending my money like it’s water,” he grunts.
“You need a man to take over those bills of hers,” Radimir jokes.
“You know any good candidates?” he asks Radimir, hope shining in his eyes.
“Seriously?” Radimir asks, raising his brows in surprise.
“I thought I would let her find her own match, but she’s not interested. She’s in her twenties, it’s time. If she were interested in school or working, then I wouldn’t mind if she wasn’t married. But she isn’t. She shops and lunches, goes to spas, and travels. Sonia allows all of her whims and I do too, but enough is enough. She needs to be grounded. She needs a man to reign her ass in,” Pasha says, raking his fingers through his hair in obvious frustration.
“Perhaps I know of someone,” Radimir murmurs as his eyes focus on Semion, who is eating a plate of pancakes. The man is built like a brick wall, a great Byki and an even better manager of my club—but a husband? I’m not so sure the man would settle.
“Radimir,” I warn. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips.
“Let’s get through this Cartel bullshit before we start betrothal contracts, yeah?” he suggests.
We all agree.
A few moments later, we begin loading up the SUV’s with weapons and men, careful not to let the women see what we’re doing. Once we’re loaded, we call the women out to us to say our goodbyes.
Kiska and Tatyana walk straight toward me, and I meet them in the middle. I wrap my daughter in my arms, hugging her and whispering that I’ll see her in a few days’ time, treasuring her warmth and the love that she surrounds me with. Then, I send her off to her grandfather while I say my goodbye’s to Tati.
“You’ll come back safely?” she asks, wrapping her arms around me, toying with the long hair at the nape of my neck.
“Always,” I promise.
“Come back to me,” she whispers before she gently presses her lips to mine.
I wrap my hands around her hips and kiss her back, sliding my tongue across the seam of her lips and moaning when she opens her mouth for me. I taste her, for the first time in weeks, I taste the woman I call my own. She’s sweet from her sugary breakfast, but also because it’s just her—my sweet Tati.
“When I return, we’ll marry,” I murmur against her lips.
“Kirill, we can’t get married in a few days. My hair is a mess, and I haven’t planned a single thing,” she panics.
I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and give her a gentle squeeze before I speak.
“Saturday morning. All of our friends and family are here with us. You have an entire house of women with you to plan and help. Saturday we will marry each other. Your hair is beautiful, but most importantly, you are beautiful, Tatyana. I want you as my wife because when I come home, I’ll be putting my baby inside of you. I want you off your birth control by the time I return,” I announce as my heart pounds in my chest.
“Kirill,” she chokes as her eyes water.
“Saturday, Tatyana, you’ll finally be all mine. Don’t make me wait any longer,” I practically beg, like a fucking pussy.
“Saturday,” she confirms.
“Boss,” Maxim calls out from the SUV.
I look back and see that I’m the only man not loaded into the cars. I bend down and brush my lips over Tatyana’s one last time as I squeeze her hip.
“Saturday,” I call out as walk away from her.
“Yes, Saturday,” she confirms. I open the door to the SUV with a smile on my face.
“What are you so happy about?’ Radimir asks.
“We all must be back by Saturday,” I say, not answering his question.
“Why?” Ziven asks from the front seat.
“Tatyana and I are to be married, finally, and I want all of our friends and family to witness it,” I announce.
The SUV soon fills with cheers of congratulations, and the stress of this meeting coming up is lifted as we all have something to look forward to.
A party, a celebration—a wedding.
I can’t wait for Tatyana to finally have my last name.
Fuck, I can’t wait to watch her grow with my baby.
I’m ready to kill some Cartel fucks so I can come home and make my woman—mine.
I WAIT UNTIL THE SUV’s leave the driveway before I walk back inside of the house. The room full of women watch me warily, waiting. I sigh before I speak.
“Kirill wants us to get married Saturday,” I announce.
The room erupts with cheers and squeals. Then a woman Haleigh introduced to me earlier, Sonia, walks over to me and wraps her hand in my un-casted one as she speaks.
“You’re going to be a beautiful bride. Good news is that many hands make light work. We’re going to make this a beautiful wedding,” she grins.
“We talked about it before the accident and Kirill said something about a restaurant as the venue,” I mention.
“It is a beautiful place, but we can do better,” Emiliya murmurs.
“The Roosevelt Hotel,” Ashley says from the back of the room. Everybody turns around to face her.
“The what?” Sonia asks.
“The Roosevelt. It’s on Hollywood Boulevard, where the first Academy Awards were held. It’s famous and classic and old Hollywood. I think it would be lovely for a wedding,” she mentions.
“I pulled it up on my phone, you have to do it here,” Haleigh says, shoving her phone at me.
I scroll through the pictures and my eyes begin to water. It’s perfect. I can picture Kirill in one of his beautiful suits waiting for me to join him at the altar.
Then I look at the menu and I almost swoon. There are so many options, and they all look so perfect and delicious. I know that without a doubt, this is where I will marry Kirill.
“It’s so pretty,” Kiska says at my side as she looks over at the photos.
“Is this where I should marry your Papa?” I ask.
“Yes,” she practically breathes.
“I’ll call today. Do you have a preference for food?” Sonia asks before she takes the phone from my hand and starts to scan the menu.
“I want something that will please most of the people,” I say, having no idea what to actually order.
“Well, it’s not Russian food, so that’s impossible; but as long as there is good quality meat, the men will be happy,” she quips before she grins and winks at me. I watch as she hits a button and then walks outside on the back porch.
“She’s on top of it,” I mutter.
“You have no idea,” Haleigh says. “But she’s the best person you could have at your back.”
There’s more to Haleigh’s story with Sonia, but I can tell she’s not going to talk about it right now. The shake of her head and the smile is a telling sign. Maybe one day I’ll get her whole story, as it seems there is a lot of story to be told. The same goes with Emiliya.
These women are so strong, but like my own eyes when I look in the mirror, there are things that haunt them. There is a depth to them that means they’ve been through and seen things.
“What about a dress?” Kiska asks.
“Let me handle the appointment for that,” Emiliya says with a smile spreading on her lips. “We’ll go to Beverly Hills,” she announces.
“This is all too much,” I mutter as tears gather in my eyes.
“You’ve been through hell, let us take care of you. You’re one of us, Tatyana. We’re a family,” Haleigh says, wrapping her arm around me and guiding me to the sofa.
“Thank you,” I whisper, trying to control my emotions.
“Saturday evening, your wedding will be spectacular,” Sonia announces as she walks back into the room.
“They could do it that fast?” I ask, blinking.
“For a price, anything can happen, darling girl,” Sonia grins.
“But…”
“Kirill has plenty of money, do not worry yourself,” she says, waving it off as if spending god only knows how much on this wedding is no big deal.