Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride

by Bella Rose

  The man jerked in shock, the gun going off in his hand. The bullet pierced Anatoly’s shoulder, going in and out and leaving a trail of fiery pain in its wake. He turned, not to get away, but to make sure that Trisha was unharmed.

  In the meantime, Copeland angrily struck out at Bianka with his boot. The blow to her face rendered her unconscious. It did nothing, however, to end the stand off between Copeland and Anatoly.

  “Oh my God, you’re shot!” Trisha wailed. She gently touched his shoulder.

  He wanted to tell her to stop, but he knew he had no time to worry about a paltry wound when her father was ready to blow his head off.

  “Mr. Copeland,” Anatoly said in a calm voice. He held out his hands, showing he was unarmed and hoping the man would see sense. “I understand you’re angry and confused. But shooting me isn’t the answer.”

  “Daddy, you have to put the gun down. Now!” Trisha begged.

  Her father looked confused and angry. He glanced down at the woman who was passed out on the floor, and then back up at his daughter. “What have I done?” he whispered. Then he lowered the gun.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Trisha glared at her father as the EMT gently probed the wound in Anatoly’s shoulder. “Sir, you probably want to go to the hospital and have this looked at.”

  “Can you dress the wound now?” Anatoly sounded completely casual, as if they were discussing the treatment of a hangnail.

  “Yes.” The EMT nodded and began assembling supplies to do just that. “But it would be better to have some X-rays to make sure there is no internal damage.”

  “I will do that when I get home. Thank you.”

  Trisha held Anatoly’s hand between her own. She lifted it to her lips, feeling so relieved that this apparently wasn’t life threatening. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.” He gestured to her father.

  Her dad was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Her mother stood behind him with her arm around his shoulders. There was some whispering going on, but for the most part they had been silent. In the next room Trisha could see the policemen and the detectives that her father had requested be dispatched to their home. They were dealing with Bianka. She was wailing like a banshee about the wound on her leg.

  One of the detectives walked into the kitchen to report to her father. “They have to take her to the hospital, Captain Copeland.”

  “That’s fine,” he said dully. “Have her watched. And pull her passport. I’m requesting that the judge deem her a flight risk.”

  “No problem. From what we can tell, she came here on a private jet. We’ve got it impounded.”

  Anatoly seemed to perk up at this. Actually, he looked pissed. “Her father doesn’t own a private jet. Can you please check on the owner? I suspect she bullied one of my flight crews into bringing her here. If so, I would request their release and have them sent home. My other crew is waiting for me at the airport with my primary jet.”

  “You have two jets?” Her father looked dumbfounded.

  “Of course.” Anatoly shrugged it off. “Occasionally I need to send a member of my staff someplace when I must be elsewhere. It’s easier to keep a second jet than to worry about using public airlines.”

  “Oh of course,” her father said mockingly. “Apparently crime pays very well.”

  “You do not like me,” Anatoly said flatly. “Although I do not understand why. I kept your daughter safe. I even kept Bianka’s attention away from your wife.”

  “You brought this danger to our doorstep!” Copeland shouted.

  Trisha started to protest, but then she noticed how Anatoly stared at her father. In fact, her dad was acting kind of weird. He kept shifting in his seat and looking very uncomfortable. He couldn’t meet her gaze, and he flat refused to look at her mother, which made Trisha stare at Mama and wonder what secret they were keeping.

  “Mama, what happened?” Trisha asked quietly. “Obviously you’re keeping something from me.”

  ANATOLY WATCHED THE older woman fidget nervously. She was obviously trying to protect her husband. Anatoly already knew what had happened. He wondered if he should just save her from what was obviously an agonizing amount of dread.

  “What your mother is trying not to say,” Anatoly told Trisha. “Is that Bianka contacted them sometime within the last twenty-four hours and offered them some kind of deal. It probably involved removing me from your life. So they agreed to meet with her today while you were conveniently out of the house. Then Bianka arrived, and things did not quite go as planned.” Anatoly raised an eyebrow at Trisha’s mother. “Am I right?”

  The woman’s relief was palpable. “How did you know?”

  “I know Bianka,” he said irritably. “The woman is a scheming whore with a motive to hurt me and Trisha. Unfortunately, I underestimated how far she would go to accomplish this goal.”

  “She seemed so sweet and helpful,” Trisha’s mother said in a rush. “And she has such a lovely smile. I didn’t dream she was so murderous!”

  Trisha snorted. “Yeah, she does have the Jekyll and Hyde thing going on, Mama. But why would you guys go behind my back like that? It hurts me to think that you would disregard me like that.” Trisha turned to her father. “Dad, you’ve done this again and again despite all the times I’ve spoken to you about letting me make my own way.”

  Her father didn’t speak. He looked pale and drawn. Oddly enough, Anatoly could actually empathize with the man. He had thought he’d known what was best for his family, but he had been very wrong. Almost fatally so. It shook a man from the inside when that happened.

  “Anatoly asked me to marry him, Dad,” Trisha announced. “I’ve said yes. I love you. But I also love Anatoly. And if you can’t see what a good man he is after everything that happened today, then you’re an idiot and I’m sorry for you. I don’t want to lose you guys. But if you don’t accept my choice, then I suppose that’s your decision.”

  The EMT had finished with Anatoly’s arm.

  Anatoly stood up and gently put his arm around Trisha. He was ready to go. “I am taking Trisha home with me. Now. Today. The two of you are always welcome in our home. I will send a jet for you if you ever say the word. But I will no longer allow Trisha to be manipulated or bullied in the name of protection.” Anatoly struggled with the right words. “You do not give her enough credit, I think. She is strong in who she is and what she wants. She has a good heart. She makes me a better person. In fact, I have never met anyone like her, and I know I have the two of you to thank for that.”

  “Not that it’ll stop you from stealing our daughter,” Copeland muttered.

  “Daddy, please,” Trisha pleaded. “Don’t be angry. This is what happens. Kids grow up and get their own lives. That’s all I want. My life is in Moscow. I love it there. I love Anatoly.”

  Anatoly caught her hand, tugging her toward the door. He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Let’s go, my love.”

  “My stuff?”

  He pursed his lips. “What is it you want?”

  Then her face grew determined. “Nothing. It’s only stuff.”

  TRISHA GAZED OUT one of the jet’s windows as they reached a cruising altitude of thirty thousand feet. The world was nothing but blue sky and white clouds. It looked so very peaceful. Up here there was no worry about her parents, or wondering what would happen when they got to Moscow. It was all smooth sailing.

  “Are you all right, my love?” Anatoly sat down beside her.

  She pulled her legs up into the seat and snuggled in close. It felt wonderful to be beside him. “I’m so glad you came to find me.”

  He gently smoothed a few stray hairs away from her face. “I was surprised when you left.”

  “I regretted it almost as soon as I did, but I was so angry. And I was worried because I knew that what Yakov had said was true. You needed some sort of agreement with the Sokolovs.”

  “I think Yakov was surprised when I came up with an
alternative to marrying Bianka.”

  Trisha placed her palm against Anatoly’s and marveled at how big and strong his hands were compared to hers. “I don’t think Yakov will ever underestimate you again when it comes to getting something you want.”

  “No. Probably not.”

  “Did you tell Motya Sokolov that his daughter is being held for attempted murder in the US?”

  “Not yet.” Anatoly sounded glum.

  Trisha mulled over what his tone could mean. “You sound almost sad. I think you like that old man.”

  “I do, actually. It surprised me, but the two of us have quite a lot in common. And I cannot imagine having a daughter like Bianka.”

  Trisha snorted, not wanting the father to get away with being cast as the victim in this melodrama. “There was a good amount of indulgence that went on for her to be so horrid.”

  “Very likely,” he agreed. “Does that mean that our daughters will be materialistic witches who demand more money and resources?”

  Trisha laughed. She climbed onto Anatoly’s lap and gave him a teasing nip on the mouth. “They’d better not. I’ll pound their backsides.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes.”

  She kissed him then, sinking into the contact and feeling as though she could not get enough. He responded almost instantly. His arms wound around her body, and he pulled her as close as possible until there was no space between them.

  “Trisha, I must have you,” he whispered fervently.

  “Here?”

  “It’s a private plane. They will leave us alone.”

  “Okay, that’s just naughty!” She felt a delicious thrill at the thought.

  Sliding off his lap, she unfastened her jeans and shimmied them down her legs. Then she removed her panties. Twirling them around one finger, she let them fly onto the bank of seats behind her.

  Kneeling in front of her husband-to-be, Trisha unfastened his slacks. She pulled his cock out into her hand. He was already hot and hard. She gave him a few short pumps, and he hissed in response. She had a thousand ideas of what she might like to do. She could taste him, or maybe feel him come inside her mouth and swallow his seed. But in the end, the only thing that mattered was getting as close as possible and reaffirming the connection between them.

  She climbed up onto his lap and hovered just above his groin. He gazed into her face, and she shivered at the desire she saw reflected in his eyes. It felt so good to be wanted like that. And when she felt his hard cock probe her wet opening, she trembled. It felt so good. She was so wet and achy. Her pussy was swollen, and the cream was so thick it coated the insides of her thighs.

  “Take me,” he said roughly. “Now, Trisha. Right now.”

  She reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. Fitting the head to her opening, she sank down on his shaft in one long stroke. The sensation of being filled until she was bursting nearly made her come then and there. It was so good!

  His hands settled on her hips. He helped her set a rhythm. She placed her hands on his shoulders, careful to avoid the bandage. Rocking against him, she felt her inner muscles begin to tighten as she got closer and closer to her peak. He was watching her. That knowledge alone made her just that much hotter. This incredible, handsome, successful and powerful man wanted her and her alone. He didn’t want to make her his mistress. He didn’t want her for a few months or years until he lost interest. He wanted to marry her and make a life with her.

  Throwing her head back, Trisha let go with a groan of pure pleasure. An orgasm ripped through her body and left her weak with release. Had Anatoly not been holding her in place, she would have toppled over backward. She gave his powerful arms her full weight. He held her in place on his cock with his hands on her hips. One last thrust into her wet pussy, and she felt him pour his seed deep into her body.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “And mine. All mine.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Yours.”

  “Promise me you’ll never leave again,” he begged softly.

  Trisha sat up and opened her eyes. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and ran the pads of her thumbs over his lips. “You’re mine. I’m not going to leave. I promise.”

  “I know it was my actions that made you go before,” he said softly. “I promise I will never disrespect you like that again.”

  Trisha smiled, giving in to a little chuckle of amusement. “I know you won’t. But I’m not going to leave if you do. I’ll just hang around to give you hell.”

  Epilogue

  Two years later…

  “Mama, I don’t know if I’m quite comfortable with the idea of you leaving Anatoly and Daddy in the same room with baby Ana,” Trisha fretted.

  Her mother gave an airy wave of one hand. “Don’t be silly. There is no way either of those men are going to do anything to harm one hair on that baby’s head.”

  Trisha had to admit that her mother was right. Her parents’ decision to give her the silent treatment as punishment for her decision to marry a Russian mafia king had lasted as long as it took for Trisha to get pregnant. Once their first grandchild was born, there had been an almost immediate request for the jet to be sent to Cleveland to pick them up. Since then, they had come over at least once a quarter. Each visit was a little less uncomfortable. Meaning that her father and her husband no longer glared at each other from opposite ends of the room. Occasionally they even spoke to each other.

  “Anatoly certainly seems like an involved father,” her mother commented.

  Trisha bobbed her head as she prepared a plate of chopped up bits of ham for her toddler’s lunch. “Yes. He’s done the diapers, the midnight feedings, and even baby baths as often as he can.”

  “I don’t think I remember your father doing those things for you,” Mama said as she wistfully set up the high chair for Ana’s midday meal. “He was always so busy at work. Life was all about promotions and swing shifts.”

  “I’m sorry.” Trisha meant it too. “I can’t imagine trying to parent without Anatoly’s help.”

  Her mother touched her shoulder. “You picked a good husband.”

  “I thought you still hated the fact that he is what he is.”

  “The more I think about it, the more I realize that Anatoly is no different than most of the law enforcement guys your father works with. They all do favors for each other, pull strings, and cheat when life calls for it.”

  “That pretty much sounds like Anatoly’s version of playing mafia,” Trisha agreed. “I always knew he wasn’t like the others.”

  “I suppose we should have trusted your judgment of character,” Mama admitted. Then she threw her arms around Trisha and squeezed her tight. “I’m so very proud of you, my little girl.”

  “It means a lot to hear you say that,” Trisha admitted.

  “Your dad is too,” Mama assured her. “Sometimes it’s just harder for him to say it.”

  “Maybe.”

  Her mother pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’ll go get the boys and tell them lunch is ready.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” Trisha watched her mother leave the kitchen, and felt relieved that she and her mother were back on good terms. She just wished she could feel as if her father had truly accepted her choice.

  ANATOLY WAS TIRED of his father-in-law’s constant glares from across the room. Jonathan Copeland showered his granddaughter Ana with love and attention, all the while slipping in a chance to shoot Anatoly a dirty look.

  “You know,” Anatoly drawled. “That baby has fifty percent of me in her.”

  “She’s my daughter’s daughter,” the stubborn old man argued.

  Anatoly wasn’t buying it. “She is my daughter as well.”

  “I wish it was otherwise.”

  “Then she wouldn’t be who she is,” Anatoly pointed out.

  Ana smiled her gummy baby smile at her grandfather and nearly gouged out his eyes with her tiny fingers. Anatoly loved his wife, but he had never felt anything so strong as wh
at he felt for Ana. It had given him a whole new appreciation for the stubborn old man across the room.

  “I forgive you, you know,” Anatoly said calmly.

  “What?”

  “For your stupidity in putting my Trisha at risk when you invited Bianka into your home.” Copeland was still sputtering, so Anatoly kept talking. “You love Trisha the way I love Ana. I would have done that much and more to remove a threat from Ana’s life. I cannot fault you for that anymore. But I can remind you that if you love your granddaughter, you really need to mend the rift between yourself and her mother.”

  “What rift?” the old man growled.

  “The one that makes my wife cry at night sometimes.”

  Anatoly knew the moment his words sank into Copeland’s heart. Tears beaded in the old man’s eyes. He heaved a great sigh and stood up, cradling eighteen-month-old Ana against his chest.

  Copeland inhaled a shaky breath. “You’re a good father and a good provider. I don’t approve of what you do, but I can respect a man that knows how to make money and take care of his family.”

  “Thank you.” It was all Anatoly would say on the subject.

  He watched Copeland carry the baby into the kitchen and followed. The man set the baby in her highchair and then gently touched his daughter’s shoulder. Trisha turned around, obviously surprised.

  “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

  Copeland cleared his throat. “I need to tell you that you’ve done well for yourself, kiddo.”

  “What?”

  “I said that you’ve done well for yourself. You have a husband who loves you to distraction and the most adorable little girl on the planet.” Copeland reached out and pulled Trisha into his arms. “I’m sorry I’m such an old grouch.”

  “Daddy,” Trisha said tearfully. “I don’t care that you’re an old grouch. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say.”

  “Then you can hear it now.”

  Trisha’s gaze flitted around the kitchen until it landed on Anatoly. She smiled a big smile that made his heart swell with love. He winked at her and made a little shooing gesture with his hands.