by Ashley Hall
“Eight when my parents died.”
I wanted to ask how they died, but I also wanted him to volunteer that information. And even if he didn’t share the how, I so appreciated him telling me this much. His parents dying so young…was that why he ended up in the mob? I wanted to understand him.
To try to explain away his dark side? To give him excuses? He had all those weapons. He had to have used some before. Had he killed anyone himself? Just who was Ivan? What had happened in his past to make him the man he was today? How would his tragic past affect his future? Would he ever be able to move on and turn away from his life of crime? From the mob?
We would never work. I had no business asking him to leave the mob. We weren’t dating. I had to stop these daydreams of mine. We weren’t a couple. We had sex. He paid me. I would one day hand over a baby to him and walk away with even more money.
I hated myself for that.
I hated Ivan for making me sign that contract.
I hated Ivan for being in the mob.
I hated Ivan for not wanting me, for not loving me.
But if it hadn’t been for the contract, we never would have met. And I had a feeling that his mob connection had something to do with him wanting an heir so badly.
And as much as I hated that he was in the mob, I did love the sense of mystery surrounding him and that bad boy aura he owned.
What would his parents have thought of how Ivan turned out?
“It’s a terrible thing for a child to grow up without their father,” I said.
“Yes,” he murmured, and the sadness in his eyes had me reaching over and patting his hand.
I couldn’t imagine growing up with my mom. She had been the one constant in my life.
To save her, I would have to leave behind a child, to condemn that child to a life without a mother.
How could I live with myself if I did that?
***
When I woke up the next morning feeling sick to my stomach, I wondered if it had finally happened. If I was finally pregnant.
There was a bathroom right next to my room, and I knew from looking around earlier for more toothpaste that there was a box of pregnancy sticks beneath the sink. Of course, since I desperately wanted to pee, I didn’t have to, so I drank a ton of water until I could. Peeing on that stick wasn’t fun, but waiting the minute to read the results was even worse. We had certainly had sex long enough now that I could be pregnant. Sometimes, it seemed like I had moved into Ivan’s mansion a lifetime ago.
The timer on my cell phone dinged.
Yep. I was right. The pregnancy test was positive. Two dark lines marked the tiny box.
I was pregnant.
I sat down on the closed toilet and didn’t know what to think, what to feel. I vacillated between joy and terror because now that I was finally pregnant, it made me want to take back the promise I made to give up the child once he or she was born. I hadn’t given much thought to being a mom before this whole agreement, but now that it was here, now that I was pregnant, now that there was a baby growing inside of me, I already didn’t want to give the baby up.
Oh God, I was in trouble.
Because while I might be falling in love with Ivan, I had no illusions that he was falling in love with me. He was kind, yes, but what did that mean? I couldn’t accept that he loved me. Which meant that he wouldn’t consider keeping me around once the baby was born. And even though I might be falling for him, I didn’t want him to raise my baby.
The baby’s not yours, a voice in the back of my head said.
Of course it is!
The baby’s not yours, the voice said. The money you took for the baby is.
I was sick to my stomach over this, or maybe it was because of hormones. What were my options? Did I even have any options?
Even though I might regret this, I hid the pregnancy stick away. I would keep this information to myself for now so I could figure out what to do. Should I stay or should I go? What would be best for the baby? What would be best for my mom?
What would be best for Ivan?
What would be best for me?
Chapter Twenty
Ivan
That morning, I woke up in my own bed. Never a good time. I preferred to wake up in Rachel’s arms, but I had vowed to stop doing that, at least so often. While I enjoyed spending time with her, there had to be boundaries…at least I thought there should be boundaries. We couldn’t get too comfortable.
And we were getting comfortable.
And I liked it.
But as much as I liked it, I didn’t want to risk falling for Rachel. As wonderful as she was, she deserved more. She shouldn’t have to be dragged into my life. She was too pure and innocent.
Well…she sure wasn’t pure and innocent in bed. She was a tiger. She was willing to dominate and to be dominated, and I was slowly discovering that sometimes it was more satisfying to give over control, to allow others to do what they want to your body. Because Rachel was getting to know my body, and what turned me on, and I was having a hard time keeping my hands off of her.
But for all the sex we were having, Rachel wasn’t pregnant yet. For all of my plans, things were moving, but they weren’t moving fast enough for me. I wasn’t getting close enough to formulize a plan for my revenge, which was eating away at me. The only time I felt like I was human was when I was with Rachel. Otherwise, I felt like a demon, consumed by rage and anger and the need to kill. Vanya Golovkin had taken so much from me, and I wasn’t about to rest until I had taken everything away from him and then took his life as well. I feared that my obsession wasn’t going to end well, but who would be the one to pay the price?
I was like a caged animal all day, and I couldn’t be happy about anything. Breakfast tasted bland, and Rachel had slept in, so I didn’t even have her to talk to. No preoccupation from my dark thoughts.
After lunch, I tried to call Alec for an update, but he didn’t answer. Which wasn’t too surprising, but it fouled my mood even further.
When I couldn’t handle the wait any longer, I decided to take matters into my own hands. After his shop closed for the night, I sneaked to the back door with the intent of looking for anything that I could use against Golovkin. I had learned how to burglarize without a trace in my youth, before I reclaimed my name. It served me well then, and the skill had continued to serve me well as an adult. Some of life’s most important survival skills were things you wouldn’t be taught in school but out on the streets.
The lock was a decent one, but I took my time and still managed to unlock it. A quick glance to make sure no one was around. Good. The coast was clear. I quietly slipped inside and closed the door behind me. It was dark inside, too dark to see, and I had to wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I couldn’t risk turning on a flashlight in case someone was lingering around, although I didn’t hear anyone else, and I had watched everyone leave before breaking in.
Once my eyes adjusted enough that I could see, I made my way to Golovkin’s office. While the rest of the place looked rather messy—actually that was too kind as the place looked like a tornado had swept through it—Golovkin’s office was stark and neat and empty. He wouldn’t be the kind to leave trails, so this might be for nothing, but on the off chance that his hubris could help bring him down, I had to check.
I moved to the filing cabinet first and had to unlock each and every drawer, but quick glances didn’t reveal anything important. I didn’t want to stay here longer than was necessary, so I moved onto the desk. If I needed to, I’d return to the filing cabinet. He was putting on a show that he was legitimate business owner, so if he was laundering money, he was doing a superb job of hiding it. More than anything, I wanted to find out who he owed money to. That information would be the first nail in his coffin.
There wasn’t anything on the surface of the desk except for a pen. There were plenty of locked drawers, but what caught my eye was the trashcan.
The not empty trash can.
&nbs
p; It was full of shredded papers.
The shredder was tucked away in the back corner of his office. He must have done a ton of shredding recently, because the bin was still filled even though he had put some in his regular trash.
But the best part was that there was a large piece that hadn’t shredded completely and was sticking out of the top. Maybe the shredder had overheated or maybe the papers were too thick.
I pulled out the papers from the top and riffled through them. A faded paid transaction to Garcia Trucking. Interesting. Then I ransacked through the bottom and discovered strips that looked like they had been other transactions. This must be the connection I needed.
I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Golovkin came back to my city just to earn money to pay back this company, which was most likely a cover for someone else. With those guns he had recently acquired, was Golovkin’s big plan to take me down and steal my money to get this third party off his back?
Not gonna happen, buddy.
I grabbed the transaction from the top of the shredder, folded it, and tucked it inside a pocket. My time here had come to an end. I’d better get out of here before someone noticed me. After all, even though I didn’t see any cameras, it didn’t mean that there weren’t cameras hiding somewhere. Honestly this had gone a lot more smoothly than I had anticipated. If a silent alarm had been tripped, someone would’ve been here long before now.
After I ensured that everything was the way it should be, that no one would be able to tell I had entered the office, I was ready to leave. But when I stood by the doorway, the hair on the back of my neck rose. Someone else was in here. I could tell.
Fuck.
I ducked down, and there was a whoosh above my head as someone tried to punch where I had just been. Pissed but also happy that I could release some of my frustrations and anxiety, I dove forward and wrapped my arms around the assailant’s legs. He was too strong to be knocked over, but I did push him back enough that there was space between us. A good start.
Before I could get into position to launch my own attack, he was already going after me again. His fist connected with my jaw, and I was lucky I didn’t bite my tongue, but then his elbow slammed into my nose. Blood gushing, dripping down my neck and onto my clothes, and I was livid.
The man backed off slightly, snickering and smirking. He was dressed all in black, but I couldn’t see anything that made him easily recognizable, and my first thought was to wonder if he was the same man who had accosted Rachel.
Which made me all the more furious, but I couldn’t give in to emotions. I had to be careful. Not only did I have to take care of the man in black, but I also had to ensure that there wasn’t any evidence of the attack. So I couldn’t bleed on anything and I couldn’t make him bleed either…at least not here.
The man dove forward, forcing me back into the office. I ducked down and dashed forward at his legs. The man tripped over me, his head knocking into the desk. Good thing there wasn’t a bunch of papers on top, or else there would have been a huge mess for me to clean up.
Unfortunately, the blow wasn’t enough for the man to be knocked unconscious, so I wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled tight. He slapped at me, clawed at me, wiggled around, but slowly, my chokehold cut off his oxygen enough for him to slump over. He wasn’t quite unconscious, so I pulled back and hit him hard right in the temple. Now he was out. Still alive, but down for the count.
I double-checked that everything was right where it should be. The pen had fallen down, so I returned it to its place. Perfect.
After cracking my knuckles and doing a few quick stretches, I dragged the man outside and to a deserted alley. No one was around, and I attached a silencer to my gun. Movies acted like silencers made a gun completely silent, which wasn’t the case. Gunshots were super loud, and silencers only muffled the sound a little bit. If people were nearby, they would still hear it, but at this time of night, hopefully no one was around or awake to hear it, and it wasn’t like I planned on sticking around.
A single shot to the forehead, and it was done. I picked up the casing and then lifted the guy and dumped the body into a dumpster. There. All done. No one would know I had been the one to snoop around in Vanya’s office. It was unfortunate that I had to kill the guy since that was a dead giveaway that someone had been crossing the line into Vanya’s business, but it was what it was. The man had seen me. He had attacked me. He had to be put down.
And he was only the first. There would be more death on my hands by the time I was done with the likes of Vanya Golovkin.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rachel
I couldn’t stand being in the house, but I also didn’t want to leave. If I saw Mom, she would be able to tell something was wrong, and so would Denise, and I just couldn’t deal with their questions and concern right now. While the idea of going for a walk seemed appealing, I didn’t want to have bodyguards tailing me the whole way, so that left me to pace around the house, careful to avoid Ivan’s room and the room next to it with all the weapons.
Lunchtime came around, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat. My stomach was too queasy, or maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy—knowing I was pregnant and expecting to have morning sickness. After all, I had felt fine all day yesterday and eaten just fine, and I had been pregnant then, just unknowingly. Ivan had eaten breakfast while I had been dealing with my whole pregnancy ordeal, and I purposely delayed eating lunch too so that I would have the meal in peace and quiet. I wasn’t ready to face him yet. What if he could tell just by my face that I was pregnant? I could be good at hiding things when I tried hard, except when the person in question knew me well. Which was why I couldn’t get anything past my mom or Denise, and I had a feeling that Ivan was in that camp too.
By the time dinner came, I did eat. In fact, I overate. Maybe that was because I had skipped breakfast, but I sure didn’t want to get in the habit of overeating. Eating for two didn’t mean I had to pig out at every meal. I didn’t want to gain weight at an unhealthy pace. How much weight gain was normal? Did I even need to eat extra calories yet? I really needed to start doing some research. I wanted the baby to be as healthy as possible, and not because of the two million dollars.
The baby. I was already thinking of the baby as “the” and not “my.” My baby.
I wiped at my eyes, blaming it on allergies, and to cover up my feelings, I ate so much that I ended up going into a food coma back up in my room. I slept for hours, and when I woke up, I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went back to pacing up and down the hallway. Ivan should probably be home soon anyhow, and knowing him, he would want to have a romp in the sheets. If I wasn’t going to tell him yet, then I had no excuse to close my legs. And, honestly, with how confused I was feeling about everything, it would be nice to be in his arms, to forget about my worries, and to feel good like only he could make me feel.
Normally, I stayed in my room, sometimes wearing nothing, sometimes wearing an oversized t-shirt. Ivan had bought me lingerie, and I had to admit I didn’t see the point of it. Why wear clothes that were only on for a few seconds and weren’t appreciated? I didn’t want any of Ivan’s money to be wasted, so I did wear the lingerie at times. The look in his eyes when I wore it…okay, maybe he did appreciate it. Tomorrow, I’d wear something special for him. Maybe I’d wear it all day long, underneath my normal clothes. Most of the time, I changed into lingerie shortly before I thought Ivan would be coming to see me.
The more I was looking forward to him coming home, the longer the minutes dragged on. Eventually, an hour passed before he came home, and for once, I greeted him right by the door.
And what a sight he made, and not in a good way. He was all bloody, his clothes stained, and his nose looked all swollen. Maybe it was even broken. He had a few bruises too.
Horrified, I gasped. “What happened?” I asked, not wanting to hear the answer because I was afraid he’d push me away. Whenever I asked about his day or his past, there was a chance he would
n’t answer. Right now, I wanted to be close to him, to have a reason to stay.
Ivan glowered and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, brushing it off like I knew he would.
“It’s not nothing,” I insisted. How could he dare act like nothing was wrong? Did he think I was stupid? That I was a doormat? That I’d just sit back and listen to him and not care that he was hurt? Deep down, I figured this had something to do with his mob connection, but seriously he shouldn’t act like this was nothing. “You’re bleeding and your clothes—”
“I’ll rinse off the blood and then come for you,” he said. And he walked on past me, as if that settled things, as if I should just be willing to accept that.
Annoyed and disgruntled, I made my way up to my room and sat on the edge of my bed. What else could I do? I wanted to wash away the blood for him, to tend to him, to ask questions and for him to confide in me, but that wasn’t my place. I was separate from that part of his life—as separate as I could be as I thought back to the man who had accosted me. At least that had only been a one-time occurrence, although I still had nightmares about him sometimes. Ivan was clearly drawing a line.
