GHOST (Boston Underworld Book 3)

by A. Zavarelli

  She moans into my right ear. The sound is distorted. But there. It vibrates down my spine and all the way into my cock. She thrashes in my arms, crying out as the orgasm rips through her body.

  So beautiful. So violent.

  So perfect for me. This damaged angel.

  “Lyoshka,” she whines into my ear.

  “I know what you need,” I tell her.

  I thrust harder, faster. “And I will give it to you.”

  I come inside of her again. Balls deep, stuffing her full of my come.

  It has not sated me at all. And already, I want to take her again. I want Dmitri to hear her cries all night long as she bounces on my cock and I fill her with everything I have to give.

  These are the thoughts going through my mind when I pulse inside of her, emptying every last drop.

  “What about Arman?” she asks. “When will he die?”

  I blink at her, and struggle to come up with a lie. She will not understand.

  “Is my little sun so bloodthirsty already?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she answers without hesitation. “I want him dead too.”

  She looks so hopeful, and it is in this moment that I realize, I will have to kill Arman. Despite Viktor’s wishes. I will have to find a way. To please my wife. To keep my word to her. To avenge what was done to her.

  “He will take longer,” I answer her with a kiss. “But he will die too, Solnyshko.”

  She smiles, looking at me like I am her hero. The way nobody has ever looked at me before. And then she speaks. And everything changes.

  “I’m pregnant, Lyoshka.”

  36

  Talia

  He pulls back to look at me, his grip taut on my chin.

  “What?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I repeat.

  Relief flashes through his eyes, and I swear that I can see the weight of his worries floating away into the distance.

  “That is good,” he tells me in a dazed tone. “Such a good girl.”

  He kisses me and then strokes my face.

  “This will change everything.”

  And that’s when I see it. Behind his relief, I see his true motive. And for a split second, there is a stab of betrayal at the realization.

  “You did this so I wouldn’t hurt myself.”

  He looks up at me and lies right to my face. “I want a family, Solnyshko. It is time.”

  “But you also believed that this would fix things,” I press. “That it would fix me somehow.”

  “You are going to be an excellent mother,” he tells me. “I have no doubts.”

  “How can you not have doubts?” I argue. “This doesn’t fix my broken mind, Alexei. It only means you have bought a lifetime of certainty. Because you know now that I wouldn’t do anything. But what if you’re wrong? What if I…”

  I can’t get the words out. What if I’m insane? What if I hurt the people I love too?

  “You are not your mother,” he answers. “You are nothing like her. You are so much stronger.”

  “You didn’t know her.”

  “I don’t need to. I know you.”

  “Hardly,” I reply, wiggling my way out of his arms.

  I’m angry at him. And I don’t know why. I can’t sort out my emotions anymore. It’s been so long since I felt real emotions. Besides numbness and pain. This is something else.

  All I can think of is that he did this with one intention in mind. It wasn’t because he wanted to start a family… with me. It was because he married me and I’m broken and he needed to fix that and so this was his solution.

  “It wouldn’t matter,” I say stupidly. As though I didn’t already know this. “This was your plan.”

  He doesn’t deny it. “I told you I wanted a family.”

  But he doesn’t say the words I need to hear. I’ve been so confused, thinking that maybe this meant something to him.

  “How will this work?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… it’s an arrangement to you. It’s not like this is a normal marriage. So how will it work?”

  “I provide for you,” he answers. “And you will be a mother and wife.”

  He doesn’t get it. And I’m not even sure what I need him to say. But I need there to be… more. It’s hope again. Niggling at me. Telling me that I should be able to have it all. But that was never true.

  “I don’t even know what you do,” I blurt. “On the computers all day.”

  “I run gambling operations for the Vory,” he answers. “And the Irish as well.”

  “So what does that mean?” I ask. “It’s illegal. You could get caught. What happens then?”

  “I will never get caught,” he scoffs and actually looks insulted. “I am the Ghost.”

  His answer doesn’t reassure me, so he tries to.

  “I am the best at what I do, Talia. This is why I am invaluable to Viktor. To the Vory. There is nobody else with my skill set. I can assure you of this.”

  I do believe him. I’ve seen him work. And I know there is something dangerously genius in that brain of his. But it’s all settling in on me. What I’ve done.

  I’ve married into the mafia. Signed a contract that I can’t take back. And now I’m having his baby. This man who has also given his assurances that he could never love me. I didn’t think I would want it. But now… I fear that he is right. That it will never happen.

  And I will be lost to him. To this world.

  “You spend all day in your office,” I tell him. “Drinking. Working. Playing chess. Is that going to change?”

  His brows draw together. “I will help with the baby,” he answers. “It will be our child, Talia. Shared responsibility.”

  I swallow, tapping my fingers against my thigh. He doesn’t get it.

  “And will we eat dinner together? Go on vacations together? Watch movies, play games…”

  Now he is the one who is getting uptight. Every word makes his posture more rigid.

  “I don’t know,” he answers. “I am a busy man.”

  “Right.” I take a breath and gather my thoughts. “So it will be like it is now. I’ll stay in my room all day. You’ll stay in your office. At night you will fuck me, and we will have a child together, who we share responsibility for.”

  He seems confused by my anger. “Is this not what we agreed on? I don’t understand, Solnyshko, what is upsetting you so.”

  “I don’t either.” I stare up at the ceiling and rub my temples. “You wanted me to get better. And maybe I have. But you haven’t changed.”

  “Why would I change?” he asks, finally getting the point. “This arrangement works for us. It is less messy. No emotions, no feelings. We can both be happy.”

  “Right.”

  Only, I’m not anymore.

  Maybe that’s not fair. Maybe I’m too fucked up and my hopes are too high.

  Alexei seems agitated. Anxious to get back upstairs and pour himself another drink. Hole himself away in his office with only his thoughts to keep him company.

  “No,” I agree with him. “I think you’re right. I think it’s best this way.”

  He nods, content. Relieved. Relieved that I’m asking for nothing from him in this way. That we can carry on as we have been. As though nothing will change. Or has changed.

  But everything has changed.

  “It’s probably best if I stay in my room,” I tell him. “To keep things the way you want them. Less messy.”

  He frowns, but doesn’t argue.

  “It’s for the best,” I repeat again.

  37

  Alexei

  “What have you done now?” Magda asks me after she sets down my breakfast.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I answer, turning my attention back to the computer.

  She taps on my desk to let me know she is not through.

  “You have not spent any time with Talia in over two weeks. She is slipping, Lyoshka. Slipping back into her sadness.”

/>   “She wants things I cannot give her.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Magda replies. “You are supposed to give her everything. She is pregnant. Now is the time when she needs you most.”

  “I have done everything I can for her. I have scheduled doctor’s appointments. Ensured she is eating the best food. I have given her free rein to decorate the nursery any way she likes. What else can I do?”

  “Perhaps pull your head out of your ass,” Magda suggests.

  I blink at her, sure I misread her. But I did not.

  Magda has never spoken to me that way. Not since I was a young boy in her care.

  “You have a dinner party this evening,” she reminds me. “It is supposed to be a celebration. What excuses will you give for the frown on your wife’s face?”

  Perhaps the same as my own since she has not allowed me to touch her since that night. She has made excuses of not feeling well, and I did not press. After the second time, I did not bother returning to her room at all. She has not come to me either. And we are at an impasse.

  I am irritable already. And Magda is not helping matters.

  “She will get over it,” I tell Magda in an effort to appease her. “It’s just hormones.”

  She curses me in Russian. And then says the thing which she knows will affect me the most.

  “I am disappointed in you, Alyoshka. And I’m beginning to think that you are not up to the task of marriage. Or fatherhood for that matter.”

  “That is enough.” I slam my hand on my desk. “You will not speak to me that way.”

  “I will speak to you any way that I choose,” she replies. “I am not one of your Vory. I am the woman who raised you. And if you cannot share your heart with Talia, then how on earth do you ever intend to share it with your own child?”

  With those words hanging between us, she leaves.

  Talia is in her room when I step inside. Dressed for the party. In a designer dress and heels. Just as a Vor’s wife should be.

  She looks lovely. And miserable.

  I can hardly even look at her. Look at what I’ve done to her all over again.

  “You are beautiful,” I tell her.

  When I kiss her on the forehead, there is no reply. She nods and meets my gaze.

  “Is it time?”

  “Yes.”

  I want to stop her when she moves towards the door. I want to make her smile again. I want to tell her that I’ll cut out Arman’s heart and give it to her on a silver platter, if it would make her smile again.

  But that isn’t what she wants right now.

  She wants a piece of me. She wants more than I offered her. She is changing the rules of the game halfway through.

  I reach for her arm and halt her, and she looks up at me with a blank expression.

  “Don’t worry,” she says. “I won’t embarrass you tonight.”

  Her words cut me. And she does not give me any time to make amends. I don’t blame her. But when we move downstairs, I’m on edge. I like to feel as though we are a team. Like before. But now we are as separate as two people can be.

  Just as I told her I wanted.

  Magda has already greeted our guests when we reach the bottom. A close party of the other Vory and their family members. Everyone is here to celebrate my wife’s pregnancy. Including Sergei and Katya.

  It is ridiculous, considering the sour expressions on their faces when I see them. But it is tradition. Viktor is very traditional in this regard. Every season, every change… there is a party.

  “Lyoshenka.” He greets me with a firm handshake. “What is this frown on your face? Have you heard the news already?”

  I blink at him, unclear what he is referring to.

  He pulls me aside and ensures we have privacy while the other guests congratulate Talia.

  “Tonight is a celebration,” he says. “I don’t want to dampen the mood.”

  “Just tell me what it is Viktor,” I insist. “I won’t relax otherwise.”

  “We have a complication,” he announces. “Arman is stateside. With both shipments and an additional for our troubles.”

  “He wants Talia back,” I state.

  Viktor nods, and we both fall silent.

  This is a complication. I was supposed to have more time to plan. To corner him so that he has no choice but to agree to my terms. But Arman is greedy. Impatient. He must have worked overtime to get these shipments to us.

  “I will meet with him tomorrow and offer him a settlement,” I tell Viktor.

  He shakes his head. “I already tried to cut a deal with him, Lyoshenka. He isn’t willing to part with her.”

  “You did this without me?” I ask.

  “I did not want to trouble you with it.”

  “You mean you did not want me to kill him.”

  “You can’t,” Viktor answers me. “We need his supply.”

  “And he cannot have Talia. She is my wife now. It is done. She is protected by Vory code. By me. Arman has no choice but to accept it.”

  “Yes, well…” Viktor sighs. “We will figure something out, Lyoshenka. We always do. But for now, you must give me your word that you will be patient and not do anything rash.”

  Viktor knows me well. He knows I want Arman dead. But he is right. I must be patient. I must bide my time. He does not want to risk our arms shipments. But Arman will die. When he does, it will look like an accident. Or as though it is at the hands of another party.

  As much as Viktor claims to put the Vory first, I know he would do the same if it were his own wife. So I simply give him a nod, and he squeezes my shoulder.

  “Come,” he says. “Now we must celebrate.”

  38

  Talia

  Tanaka is here with Nikolai. And I am glad.

  She is probably the only woman at this party who is actually happy for me. The only woman who does not wear a fake smile for me.

  “How are you?” she hugs me, and it is a warm embrace.

  “I am well,” I answer her.

  Her eyes move over my face, and her smile fades. “You can’t fool me with that act.”

  “The better question is how are you?” My eyes move across the room, to Nikolai. “Any news on your father?”

  “No,” she sighs. “But Nikolai is taking good care of me.”

  Right now, it appears as though he is trying to fend off more of Katya’s advances though. When Tanaka turns, she dismisses the interaction with a wave of her hand.

  “That is just Katya,” she says. “She is desperate for a high ranking husband and now that Nikolai has been promoted, she has her target set on him.”

  “Does it not worry you?” I ask.

  “Why should it?” she replies. “My fate will be written one way or another. I have no say in it. This is the Vory way.”

  “I suppose it is,” I answer her, knowing she is right.

  “I was raised in this world,” she tells me. “It does not bother me so much. It must appear strange to you though. All of these arranged marriages. Women as payment. Collateral. We are simply pieces on a board in the game of men.”

  “But you have feelings for Nikolai?” I ask.

  She glances down at her shoes, and for just a moment, her cool demeanor crumbles.

  “My feelings don’t matter. I will accept whoever they choose for me. They are all good and decent men, despite their outdated practices. You will never find a husband who holds his wife in higher regard than a Vor does.”

  The way she speaks makes it sound so simple. She has accepted her circumstances without a fight. The way I accepted mine when I came here. How has so much changed since then?

  “You are one of the lucky ones,” Tanaka tells me, her eyes moving behind me as she leans in. “Your husband can’t take his eyes off of you.”

  “Only because he fears I will pounce on Nikolai or one of the others the moment he has his back turned.”

  Tanaka laughs and it lightens the mood. “It is in their nature to be possessive. But
that is not why he can’t take his eyes off of you. He cares for you.”

  I don’t argue with her, and I try to forget she mentioned it at all.

  “What do you do?” I ask. “At Nikolai’s?”

  “Probably the same thing you do here,” she answers. “Flit around the house all day and keep myself occupied.”

  I nod, and the man in question steps up beside her, finally evading Katya it seems. I don’t know the protocol for such things, especially in Tanaka’s situation, but I decide to make a bold suggestion.

  “Will you let me borrow Tanaka?” I ask. “For a day? She can help me decorate the nursery.”

  My suggestion pleases and surprises Nikolai.

  “Of course.” He nods.

  His gaze moves to her, and they seem to be under each other’s spell for a brief moment. My heart aches.

  And then Magda announces dinner.

  It is a long affair. With a lot of different toasts, some in English, a lot in Russian. I don’t understand all of the sentiments, but I appreciate them.

  Alexei is at my side, taking them all with a respectful nod. Until it is Sergei’s turn. He toasts to the baby’s good health. But the tone of his voice suggests otherwise.

  And I realize this is a dig at Alexei. At his hearing.

  And I don’t understand this man. This father. The one who has made it so difficult for Alexei to allow himself to care about anyone or anything. I realize this is why he must keep himself locked in his house. Away from the world and people like Sergei.

  His father tossed him away like trash. Told him that he was defective. Even here now, beside me with all these men who respect him, he is not comfortable. I wonder if he still feels that way. I wonder if he is afraid like me. Afraid to let me in, for fear I will do the same. Like his mother. And like Katya too.

  The present distance between my husband and I is immeasurable, but I lessen it by reaching for his hand beneath the table. A silent show of solidarity. That he is not alone in this world. That even if he can’t ever love me, I understand him. And I am loyal to him.

  His fingers close around mine, warm and strong. He accepts what I offer him, and I think he is grateful for it.