My sister.
She looks a bit too thin, but she looks healthy. I drop to my knees, whispering her name, and her eyes open before her mouth goes wide. I cover it with my hand.
“It is your brother; it is Maxim. I have come to rescue you.” She narrows her eyes at me. When I release her, she speaks.
“I do not want you here. I know who you work for, I know who you are, and I do not want you.”
She sounds so angry, so bitter. I have only come here to save her. I do not blame her. I know nothing of the hells she has endured over the years.
“Mariya, what is this?” I ask. She shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes.
“I was taken and horrible things were done to me, Maxim. It is true, you could not imagine. But a man, he fell in love with me. He is married, so I stay here. He is good man. He takes care of me,” she says in an almost pleading manner. I really look at my sister. The apartment isn’t as shitty as most we have been in, but it isn’t the best either.
“I have money, Mariya. I take care of you, forever,” I offer. She gapes at me, her eyes wide and her mouth open.
“I…” She hesitates, and I grab her hands and look into her eyes.
“Let me do this for you. I take you and I take care of you, as I always should have been able to do. As I should have done many years ago.”
Mariya’s eyes dart around, looking for answers. They shine with tears, and then, finally, she nods. I throw her over my shoulder and we run. I don’t give her a second to rethink her decision. Thoughts of my child, of Haleigh, and of Dimitri vanish for the moment.
I have found my sister, and my current duty is to her care.
“I have a line on the other issue. I will take care of it. You care for Mariya, and I will let you know,” Gregori says before he walks out, without allowing me to even ask any questions.
It is suspicious that this line has happened all of a sudden, now that I have found Mariya. Something is not right, but I cannot dig deeper into his stories. I have Mariya to think about. I will not let her down again. I refuse.
Guilt swims throughout my body as I think about the things my sister has suffered. I should have come for her years ago. My guilt for Haleigh’s mistreatment sent me on this mission to right wrongs, but I should have done this long ago. I hate myself for waiting all this time.
“What now?” Mariya asks, eating some bread and cheese.
I close my eyes and images of Haleigh and a nameless, faceless baby crosses my mind.
I want to go home to my wife.
“Would you like to live here or America?” I ask, hoping she says Russia.
Mariya doesn’t even think before she answers, America … of course. I pick up my phone and call my current Pakhan. I hate that I have to request time off from him, but it is what it is. I fucked up my own life, and this is the consequence.
Once my vacation has been approved, I call the man I have been dreading speaking to again. He called me for a while and eventually stopped when I refused to return the calls.
“Dimitri,” he says distractedly. I can hear the cries of a baby in the background, and it makes my heart break.
“Sladkiy, take baby in the other room this is business, yeah?” he says to who I know must be Haleigh.
I see red at the word, honey, thrown around as if it is comfortable.
I want to kill Dimitri.
I want to cut him.
Gut him.
Pull out his insides and spread them around the bedroom that he surely fucks my wife in.
“Maxim, is that you?” He has switched to Russian, and I confirm that it is indeed, me. I hope that his cock shrivels at the sound of my voice.
“I have found my sister, Mariya. She wishes to reside in America, so I will be bringing her tomorrow to live at the house. I will only be staying for two weeks before I must return to Moscow,” I state.
Dimitri clears his throat.
“Have you finished your vendetta then?” he asks. All I want to do is strangle him, fucking kill him—with my bare hands.
“It is finished,” I clip.
“Then why do you go back? Haleigh will be glad to have you back here, Maxim, and you will want to spend time with the baby, no?”
“Nyet, I no longer work for Pasha. My new Pakhan is here in Moscow,” I say, grinding my teeth together as Dimitri clears his throat.
“Pasha will have you back, Maxim, and I will gladly step down and assume my original position. Do not be a stubborn fool. Think of your family,” he urges.
I hang up on him, not wanting to hear anymore of his bullshit.
He fucks my wife and tries to play friend.
Fuck him.
I trust not a single person any longer in this world. Once I called Dimitri my friend, same with Gregori, but not anymore. Dimitri fucks my wife, takes her as mistress, as blyad, and tries to push her back into my arms. He has a game; what it is I do not know.
Gregori is full of secrets and playing some sort of game of his own. I will find it out soon. The only person I can trust is myself. I close my eyes for a moment, willing the ache in my head to disappear. I also ignore the aching in my chest as I call and make private flight arrangements.
“We have one hour before takeoff, we go,” I bark. Mariya, wisely, doesn’t say a word. It is smart of her.
The city is dark, the car is waiting for me as I instructed, and inside, the Byki –bodyguard— is waiting to drive me home. I have not been to the place in over a year. Will it have changed at all?
I would not imagine Haleigh would care to change it too much, but perhaps, I am wrong. Perhaps, she will have wanted to replace anything that reminded her of me. It is what I would do if she left me the way I abandoned her.
“You will meet Dimitri and Haleigh when we arrive at the estate. Haleigh is the lady of the house, and I will not tolerate any disrespect of her or her child. Dimitri is her guard, probably her lover as well. You will respect him. They will not tell you what to do or how to do it, but you will be kind to them. The house may be mine, but they reside in it and they control the happenings. Haleigh does not speak Russian but Dimitri does,” I say unable to look at my sister.
Mariya nods but eyes me cautiously before asking me a question.
“Haleigh is your woman, then? Your mistress?” she asks curiously. It pains me to answer this question, but my sister will know the true answer soon enough, as I am sure it will be mentioned.
“Haleigh is my wife. Mrs. Lasovska, and before you ask, the baby is mine.”
I can tell that Mariya has no clue how to handle this information because she goes silent. It worries me. Does she think me less of a man because I just admitted my wife probably has a lover in my own home? Does she realize that I abandoned my own family out of fear? I am a worthless man.
We arrive at the house, and everything is exactly as I left it. I knock—how foreign a feeling to knock at your own home. Mariya is at my side when my breath is stolen from my body as the door opens and my beautiful Haleigh is standing before me, absolutely gorgeous, holding a squirming child in her arms. A boy, dressed in overalls, and a little shirt underneath.
“Maxim,” she whispers her eyes filling with tears as she takes me in.
I wonder what she sees.
Does she see an alcoholic?
A broken man who cannot even look at another woman because his wife is the only person he wants?
“Haleigh, this Mariya,” I say gruffly, trying to keep from crying like a woman at the sight of my beautiful wife’s face. Her eyes go wide, and she cannot hide her hurt—did Dimitri tell her nothing?
“Please, come in,” she says softly, turning to walk inside of the room.
“Just let me put Maksimilyan down in his bouncer, and I will find Dimitri. I am sure you want to see him,” she mutters. My head pounds.
The name she has given our child, a name similar to mine, Maksimilyan Lasovska, so very Russian. It is as if she knew my heart when she named him such a strong name.
I love it.
I watch as her body sways, like that of a woman, confident, beautiful—rounder and thicker than she had ever been when I had her as my own all those months ago. She has grown so much, in body and maturity, the past year. I can see it clear as day. Her face is rounder and softer, but gone is the pure unadulterated innocence she once had, replaced with knowledge she should never possess.
Knowledge I inadvertently fed her.
“She is beautiful, Maxim, and the baby, your son, perfection,” my sister whispers to me in Russian.
I watch as Haleigh walks toward Dimitri’s office, her breasts slightly bouncing with each step, her hips swaying, and her skirt hugging her luscious ass. She looks like a model. Her body is perfect, lush and curvy, whereas before she was all bones and hard muscle. She is now soft, a woman. My cock grows beneath my jeans, hardening for the first time in months. Only my wife can make me hard in an instant, no matter how her body looks, she just does it to me.
“Maxim,” Dimitri bellows. He walks toward me, pulling me into his body—hugging me. The betraying fucker—but he isn’t, not really. I abandoned them, all of them.
“My sister, Mariya, this is Dimitri and, of course, Haleigh.” I introduce my sister, and I can see the knowledge of Mariya being my sister changes Haleigh’s demeanor. She calms, relaxes, and I want to smile at her little jealousies, but I don’t.
“Mariya will be staying here indefinitely. I will be here for only two weeks,” I announce. I watch as Haleigh opens her mouth but then shuts it as soon at the baby begins to cry.
I look at him, wanting to pick him up and comfort him, but it isn’t my place. He is only my child by blood; I have not been the one to raise him. Dimitri has had that honor, and it makes me physically ill.
I want my wife and my baby; I want them with me for eternity. I have fucked everything up, but I have saved my sister in the process, so perhaps I can live with myself. Most likely not.
“I’m sorry, Maxim. It is time for his bath, and to nurse, then bed. It was very nice to meet you, Mariya. I know we will have more time to get to know each other,” she says soft and sweetly.
Haleigh looks as though she is about to cry, and the awkwardness in the room is about to swallow us whole.
“Nice to meet you,” Mariya says slowly. It surprises me that she knows any English at all.
Haleigh’s gaze lingers on me for a moment and then the baby begins to cry and she hurries out of the room.
“Please take the bedroom just around the corner here. It has its own en-suite bath, and you will be far enough away from the baby that he will not wake you up in the night. Haleigh changed all the linens just last night and brought some of her smaller clothes down for you to use,” Dimitri offers.
Mariya knows when it is time for her to take her leave, and she does so quietly. My eyes focus on Dimitri, who watches her far too closely for my liking. With Haleigh in his bed, how could he even look at another woman?
“Let us go to the office then?” Dimitri says quietly. I follow.
The room looks so much different without my things. The desk is the same large dark wood piece, the chair a comfortable leather high back, but the decorations are different. Books litter the shelves. I know that Dimitri is an avid reader and I never was.
There are also photos around the office, all of Maksimilyan. I notice there are some toys in the corner and a pen for him to play in. A stab of jealousy fills my body and consumes me. This man has my life, and I fucking handed it to him on a goddamned silver platter.
“Why are you leaving in two weeks, Maxim?” he asks as I sit on the new dark green sofa across from him.
“I must get back to work. My new Pakhan is not nearly as forgiving of my absence as Pasha was,” I admit. Dimitri nods, leaning back in his chair.
“You know Pasha will accept you back. He was angry, but mostly he was worried about Haleigh’s health,” he offers. I nod.
“You have seen to her well, it seems. Too well, maybe?” I arch an eyebrow at him, and he has the nerve to laugh.
“Haleigh and I are nothing but companions, Maxim. Do not fill your head with thoughts of anything more. I know you love her and she loves you. She has had a hard year and she had a lot of nightmares and guilty feelings to work through. Plus, the loss of her lover and husband when she needed him most,” he accuses effectively. The stabbing of his words hit their mark, straight in my heart.
“I did what I thought best,” I try to say. It does not sound convincing. Dimitri throws back his head in laughter.
“You ran. It was not a good situation. I cannot say I wouldn’t have done the same, my friend. You must know that it is time to come home, Maxim. You have only missed mere months of your son’s life. Do not miss years.”
I shake my head, but Dimitri holds his hand up and stops me from speaking.
“Go upstairs, go into the nursery and watch your wife nourish your son. Look at all of that beauty and then you tell me that you are doing what is best by leaving them behind again. If that is the way you feel, then I will ask you to please divorce her so that I may have her, free and clear. That is the best woman I have ever known. I put my sons inside of her, and I know that they will not have a more loving mother to nourish them.”
I walk right up to him and punch him in the face.
“You do not touch what is mine,” I growl. The bastard just smiles.
“Go to her,” he whispers.
I turn around and march up the stairs.
Toward my wife.
Toward my son.
Toward my whole fucking life.
I AM SITTING IN the rocking chair. Black and white photos of Russia fill the room; the bedding I know is a soft blue, as are the walls. The bedroom is calm and serene, but inside, I am a ball of nerves—gut-wrenching nerves.
Maxim is home, and he barely looked at me. He didn’t even ask about his child and then he brought that woman, claiming it was his sister. A sister he has never mentioned to me before. Not that we knew much about each other, but he told me he was an orphan. I now know how he became one, but nothing about a sister. He disappears for a year and—poof—like magic, he is back, bringing her with him.
“Maksimilyan, calm down, little love, you must sleep well tonight. We have guests,” I whisper to my heart—my baby.
Maksimilyan looks up at me, his bright blue eyes dancing as he nurses. My baby is so serious and calm, but so very sweet—until night falls. It’s as if he turns into a wild animal. He cries and fusses every single night. I cannot remember the last time I slept for more than two hours straight, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
My son is my life.
I lie back and relax, trying not to think about the beautiful man downstairs who doesn’t want anything to do with me. I wonder if he still thinks of me as dirty and disgusting? I haven’t even looked at another man since he left.
Dimitri is so sweet, and if there were a man I could be interested in, it would definitely be him. But he is like a brother, a best friend. I accompany him to all social events, but I am Mrs. Lasovska. I am not Dimitri’s woman; though, I am sure there is gossip about our relationship. We are merely roommates and friends. Nothing more.
I feel Maksimilyan turn into dead weight in my arms, and I know that he is asleep. Carefully I set him down in the crib and adjust myself. I turn to leave the room only to find the object of my affection standing in the doorway wearing an unreadable expression on his face. Not that I ever really understood his expressions, anyway. Expressions I believed to be love were nothing of the sort. I cannot read the man, never could, and probably never will be able to.
“Come,” he says holding his hand out. I stare at him; he is like ice.
Cool blue, cold eyes, granite body that is bulkier than I remembered. And his eyes, they are much more haunted. I don’t take his hand, but I walk toward our bedroom ahead of him.
“You are beautiful with him,” he says softly once he has closed the door behind us.
I glance at the monitor on my nightstand to see that Maksimilyan is indeed still asleep; sometimes, he acts like an opossum and plays me.
“Why are you here, Maxim?” I whisper.
I don’t turn to look at him. I can’t. I am already on the verge of tears.
“Bringing my sister to safety. She was taken many years ago,” he explains.
Inside, I am screaming that I don’t give a good goddamn about his fucking sister, but I keep my mouth shut.
“You are leaving in two weeks, for … forever, then? Or will you come back every year to torture me and rip my heart out over and over again?” I ask turning around to see his body sway at the venom of my words.
“Haleigh,” he murmurs. I take a step back as he takes one forward.
“Fuck you,” I whisper as tears stream down my face.
“I am bastard,” he mutters, his hands suddenly cupping my cheeks.
I feel his lips kiss beside my ear, sending shivers down my body, emotions that have been dead for a year.
“I hate you,” I moan as his lips travel down the column of my neck, his tongue tasting my collarbone.
Maxim wraps his hands around my hips as his mouth slowly kisses back up my neck. Then he takes my earlobe between his teeth and tugs, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.
“You look so fucking sexy, Haleigh,” he groans.
My hands automatically go into his hair. It is longer, unkempt. Gone is the perfectly neat and tidy image of Maxim, and now, he is rougher and more dangerous looking. I love it.
“I have tits and an ass now.” I laugh as his hands travel down to my ass, grabbing me, picking me up to carry me to the bed.
“Loved your body before but, honestly, you look fucking fantastic,” he moans.
Maxim is above me, his knees straddling my hips. His hair is messy from my fingers, and it’s hanging down, but his blue eyes focus completely on me. Slowly, his hands twist around the hem of my tank top and he gently peels it over my body. My bra is next, and my skirt is ripped off last, leaving me completely naked for him.
Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva #1) Page 15
