“I’m not into the habit of protecting and saving women under contract, Timofei. The terms were agreed and signed on.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “I don’t know how I feel about her yet, it’s too soon,” I state.
Yakov hums before he answers. “Get her pregnant, that way you have as long as you want to figure out if you love her or not,” he murmurs before he ends the call.
Fuck.
“Three months?” a small voice calls out from behind me.
I turn around to see Devyn standing in just my shirt. Her black hair a wild mess, looking sexier than ever, but she looks really fucking pale.
“I needed his help. We renegotiated.”
“You’ll hand me back to him so easily?” she asks. Her face morphs into what looks like physical pain, and it makes my heart constrict.
“It’s business, devochka, it has nothing to do with us. If you’re pregnant, then it’s a non-issue,” I inform her. The pain in her eyes, the obvious hurt, it doesn’t dissipate at all.
“You wonder why I act like a robot? Why my only ambition in life is to please you? You really act like you want all of me when I clearly will never have all of you. I am a pawn, nothing but a piece to be moved when it’s convenient. Please, do not try to lull me into a false security, a false life anymore, Timofei. I’m nothing but your fuck doll, and you’ve made it absolutely clear that that is all I am to you,” she announces, her voice soft, low, and eerily calm.
“Devvy,” I call out as I take a step toward her. She steps back and holds out her hand.
“Please don’t. No more Devvy, no more devochka, and no more baby. All those sweet endearments do is give me a false sense of hope. So please, Timofei, no more. I’m Devyn and you’re Timofei. We’re business associates who have sex; and if a baby is produced, we’ll revisit our relationship if you wish for that. But if it isn’t, then I’ll be someone else’s to use until I’m pawned off on another, like the whore I apparently am.”
She turns from me and I watch her go. I don’t run after her, although I feel like I should. My heart is pounding inside of my chest, and my breathing is rapid. Fucking shit. What the fuck have I done?
TIMOFEI DOESN’T COME BACK to bed after our argument. I know because I don’t go back to sleep. I listened as he walked around in his closet, and then I listened as he closed the front door and locked it when he left. I waited for over an hour. When he didn’t return, I figured he wasn’t going to.
Taking a long, hot shower, I wash my hair before I root around for something to wear. I don’t have much, as my father hasn’t sent my clothes. Now I know why. He doesn’t expect me to be gone for very long.
I find a pair of shorts and a tank that are clean, pulling out the rest of my laundry to separate and start in the wash. The honeymoon is officially over, and my life is falling apart.
A knock on the door causes me to jump, and I walk over to look through the peephole, finding Konstantin standing on the other side. Wrapping my hand around the knob, I unlock and then open the door, my laundry still in my arms.
“Morning, little one,” he grins. Stepping aside, I mumble a good morning and walk back to the small washer and dryer that are in the hall next to what looks like Timofei’s office. “You okay?”
I dump my clothes in the washer with a little jump, not expecting him to be anywhere behind me. “I’m fine,” I whisper as I add detergent before closing the lid and starting the machine.
“You aren’t,” he grunts.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say with a shrug. “I’m not allowed to leave, but maybe I could give you a grocery list? I don’t know if there’s any food in here, but it’s been almost two days since I’ve eaten. I’m starving,” I say, changing the subject.
“I’m not supposed to leave you home alone, but I’ll order some takeout. What do you want?”
I don’t know what kinds of places are in the area or what they serve, so Konstantin gives me a list, probably of his favorites. I pick something from that. He orders, and then I sit on the living room sofa and stare out into the ocean as I wait for the food to arrive.
We end up ordering Chinese food. It’s not my favorite, but food is food. Konstantin and I eat in silence, but I see his eyes glance over to me every few minutes. He has questions.
All I can think about is Timofei, and how easily he negotiated to give me back to my father. I am exactly what he said I was, a business deal. I’m not a person—not his wife.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” Konstantin finally asks through a mouthful of noodles.
Sighing, I lift my eyes and look straight into his. “Timofei needs my father’s help on something. Last night, he and my father renegotiated our marriage contract. Now, instead of a year to get pregnant, I only have three-months.”
“Or what?” he asks.
“Or Timofei has to give me back,” I whisper.
Konstantin’s eyes go hard and his jaw clenches as he sets his takeout container down on the floor. “He has to give you back,” he murmurs. It sounds kind of lethal.
“Yeah,” I gulp.
“I’m sure he had good reason, Devyn. Timofei isn’t a man who makes rash decisions,” he says around his food.
I run my teeth along my bottom lip and look down at my lap. Konstantin reaches out and wraps his hand gently around mine, giving it a squeeze. “Do you think that he would really let you go back?” he asks.
“I wouldn’t have a choice. I’m not the one who makes any decisions,” I murmur.
Konstantin releases me and stands before he walks over to the windows that I favor, watching the ocean. “I don’t think it’s right. The contracts, the forced arranged marriages and everything.”
“It’s the way it is,” I whisper.
“I know; it’s the way it’s always been. We did it for a purpose for a long time, but now? Now, it’s just to play games with people. I’ve seen so many people get hurt because of these games, these contracts. I’ve never seen one where someone was required to have a baby in a certain timeframe. I don’t understand why Timofei would accept this,” he murmurs almost to himself.
“Whatever he needs from my father must be important.”
Konstantin snorts. He mutters something under his breath, but I don’t hear him. I ask him to repeat it, but he waves me off and stares at the ocean.
I let out a sigh and go back to my food. I need to make the best of my situation. If Timofei doesn’t want me forever, then there’s nothing I can do about it.
The only thing I can hope is that I’m able to have our marriage annulled by the church. At this point, the baby thing and our marriage is completely out of my hands. It’s in God’s now.
After doing laundry and cleaning up around the house all day long, I lay down alone in my bed. Konstantin is on the sofa, and Timofei is at destinations unknown to me. I haven’t heard anything from him at all today, and I’m honestly relieved. It’s been nice not having to look at him and wonder. Wonder what he wants, how he feels, or if he even thinks of me at all.
I close my eyes, feeling completely pathetic, hoping that sleep will ease some of my tension, that maybe tomorrow won’t seem so bleak.
“Wake up,” Timofei rasps against my ear as his hand slides inside of the front of my panties.
“You’re home,” I whisper with a sigh as I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, not opening my eyes. He slips my panties down my legs before he whispers against my ear.
“Miss me?”
I hum my answer as I widen my legs. Timofei’s fingers slide through my center before two dip inside. His teeth nip my earlobe as his fingers curl and his palm presses against my clit. I shake in his arms, needing more from him, and not liking myself for craving his touch the way I do.
He moves his hand from my center and wraps it around the back of my knee, spreading me even wider before he shifts. His cock slowly enters me. “Don’t be angry with me, devochka. This is us, Devvy, don’t make what your father and I discussed ch
eapen what we have.”
“Please stop,” I whisper.
I shift my hips, pushing back against him to accept more of his cock inside of me.
He releases a deep groan. “Nyet, no matter what, you’re still my wife,” he growls as his fingers leave my knee and return to my center. He plays my clit like only he can, circling and applying the perfect amount of pressure while his cock slides in and out of me with gentled ease.
“Fei,” I gasp as my body locks up. I let out a cry as I come.
Timofei shifts so that I’m on my stomach and he holds my hips down. His cock never leaves my body as his knees press against either side of me. He’s straddling my upper thighs, before he slams inside of me. His tempo is fast, hard, and unyielding as he takes me. I’m completely helpless, useless, and still reeling from my climax as he wildly pumps in and out of my body.
His hand fists in my hair, and he arches my neck back. His eyes connect with mine as he lets out a long roar. I shiver as his body stills inside of me, and his dick fills me.
“This is my cunt, Devyn. If you think I’m going to just let it walk out of my life, you’re fucking mistaken. I’ll fuck you every chance I get, not just because you’re mine and I can, but so that you’re pregnant and it’s a non-issue of where your destiny takes you in three months. You’re mine.”
“Fei,” I whimper as he releases my head. He slips in and out of me a few more times before he climbs off of me and lays his head next to mine on his pillow. I turn my head to the side, unable to move the rest of my limp body. “It’s business, Fei, and there’s nothing you can do in three months if I’m not carrying your child.”
“Fuck that,” he snorts. I blink, staring at him. After a few beats, he continues. “I thought all day long. I thought about what my life would be like if you went back to your father. I thought about being Pakhan, fucking king of New York, and how that would feel without my sweet queen. Devochka moya, you will be queen, and nobody will take the queen from her king. If he tries, then it’s war.”
I don’t understand everything Timofei is telling me, but I’m smart enough to put the pieces together. Timofei is going to take over his father’s position, and I have a feeling it’s going to be very ugly. That’s what he’s been so worried about. While I don’t completely understand everything, and he wouldn’t tell me if I asked, I can understand that takeovers, shifting power, all of it can be brutal.
“Kiss me, Fei,” I whisper.
Timofei doesn’t delay. His mouth touches mine and he kisses me. His lips are soft and his kiss is hard, consuming, and owning all at the same time. When we break away, I look into his cool blue eyes and just stare at him. He does the same with me.
“Sleep, devochka.”
TODAY IS THE DAY. My father arrived in New York yesterday morning and has yet to bother me, to make his presence known, or even to call me. Tonight is collection night, and it’s a complete waiting game. Yakov and Dominik’s men are ready, the Irish have checked in, and Patrick’s men are also ready to go. Sergei arrived just a few hours ago with a small crew of his own, and he’s ready as well.
The only person not ready is me.
I didn’t believe that this shit would truly come down to this. I also didn’t believe that my father would put a hit on a Bratva member, especially his own son-in-law.
I try to put everything aside. Mika and Misha almost dying. My sister and her obvious contempt for our father. And Devyn, my sweet wife, whom I continue to fucking cut with my words, over and over again. I don’t have time to dwell on anyone else’s motives but my father’s right now.
Unfortunately, I can’t stop one thing from entering my mind. The updated contract with Patrick. I can’t get the image of how he looked all too thrilled to present it to me. Knowing that something is not right with him, either. I need to deal with my father first, then it’ll be time to deal with the Irish fuck.
“Fei?” Devyn asks as she wraps her arm around me from behind, hitching her leg up and over my hips so that I can feel her hot pussy against my lower back.
I don’t say a word, rolling over in her arms and fitting my hips between her thighs. I need to feel her before I leave, to know that she is waiting for me when I return, that this hot pussy of hers waits for me. That it’s mine, all mine, no matter what happens tonight.
Positioning myself at her entrance, I slide all the way to the root, smiling when her breath hitches against my ear. “Are you sore, my sweet Devvy?” I ask against her ear.
“Yeah, I am,” she admits.
“Good,” I murmur before I rear back and slam inside of her. “I want you to feel me with every breath you take today, devochka.”
I don’t make sweet love to my wife. I passionately fuck her. I slam against her, making her eyes widen and causing her to gasp for air. Her pussy drenches me, and I know she’s enjoying the sweet pain as much as I enjoy giving it to her.
When she comes on a sob, only then do I let my cock fill her with its release. If I could pick any day to create life with Devyn, it would be today, right at this moment—before I take down my crazy fucking father from power.
I walk into the restaurant. The Oleandr—owned by the Bratva and frequented by them often. On collection night, it turns into much more, or at least the back half does. I walk past the hostess, and she dips her chin with a shy smile. I’ve fucked her, more than once. She’s a good piece and very willing to please.
“Timofei,” she whispers. “Will I see you later?”
It’s been a while since I’ve been inside of her, since well before my wedding or my engagement. I would come to her each time I had to visit the city. I don’t know her name, which makes me a much bigger asshole than I care to think about. This girl in front of me doesn’t hold a candle to my wife. I’ve only had Devyn on my mind for over six months. I shake my head with a smile.
“Sorry, I’m a married man now.”
I continue walking toward the back of the restaurant, where I know my father and his men are. This isn’t something I would typically come to, since I don’t have my own crew here yet. Another thing my father is dragging his feet on—assigning me a crew.
Once I make my way to the only door that leads into the meeting room, we are stopped by one of my father’s Kryshas—one of his enforcers. I know him, went to high school with him, and he dips his chin slightly.
“I’m supposed to check every person who enters this door for weapons, Tim,” he rumbles, calling me by the name I went by in school.
“But?” I ask, arching my brow.
“I’m a friend of Konstantin’s,” he grins as he stands to the side, his eyes roaming over every man who is behind me, letting us pass.
Once we’re inside, the door is closed behind us and we’re met with silence. My father sits at the head of a long table, looking like every bit of the tyrant he is turning into, but that isn’t what shocks me. Camilla, the wedding planner I fucked for months, is sitting on his lap.
Women are not allowed at collection, not ever. Only after the money has been counted and exchanged hands do whores or strippers sometimes come in and the men let loose and party. Never during. Never with money in the room.
“Timofei,” my father booms, his eyes connecting with mine.
Looking at him, I see nothing of my papa. He isn’t the same man he was just a few years ago. He’s different, maniacal, hardened, angry and calculating.
“I didn’t know used up whores were allowed at collection. This is a new thing?” I state, loud enough for the entire room to hear.
“You better watch your mouth, you little cunt,” he shouts, his face turning red and spittle flying into the air.
Camilla smirks and crosses her arms under her chest to make her tits appear larger.
“Sloppy seconds, papa? I thought you were better than that,” I smirk.
“What did you say?” he asks, looking from Camilla to me.
I snort. “Fucked her before I got married. Can you still taste my cock when you kiss her
?” Camilla gasps, and my father stands, sending the bitch down to the floor with a yelp.
Not one man makes a move, their eyes glued on our exchange. “I could give a fuck about some cheap whore, not when you clearly don’t get your rocks off with her. Instead, you fly all the way to Paris to watch me fuck my wife on my honeymoon. There a reason you decided to do that, papa?”
His face turns so red that it’s starting to take on a purplish color now, but I can’t find it in me to do anything but smile at the bastard. “What do you want?” he shouts.
“To be Pakhan. You need to step down,” I announce. The room stays completely silent, but there’s an air of shock surrounding us now.
“You’ve lost your goddamned mind,” he screams.
Shaking my head, I answer, “No, that’s you. You hired a fifteen-year-old boy to kill Mika. Regardless of your personal feelings for Mika, he’s Bratva, he’s a Brigadier, and you’ve hired more than one hitman to kill him. This time, he could have killed your grandchild.”
“The little bastard, better off that he’s dead,” my father spits. I don’t mistake the sound of rumbling from some of the men around us.
Most of these men are Brigadiers, like I am. They’re husbands, fathers, and in some cases, grandfathers. We were always taught that you don’t fuck with women or children. My father’s crazy is waving around loud and proud right now.
“This shit ends now. Either you walk out of here and relinquish control, or I’ll end it another way. No matter what, it’s done,” I state.
Pasha snorts before he throws his head back with laughter. “You are nothing but a spoiled little cunt. You will never lead any men. Your wife, some Irish whore, will never be good enough to be a Pakhan’s wife. You are nothing, Timofei Vetrov. Nothing but a worthless little piece of shit your mother shot out of her. I’m not even sure you’re mine,” he clucks.
It’s too much. It’s as though he’s fucking taunting me right now. If I were leading with my emotion, the fuck would be dead already.
“What is your endgame, papa?” I ask calmly.
Betrothed to the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 8) Page 13
