by L. L. Ash
“Not when you’re paying me,” he said bitterly.
The needle pierced deeper.
“It is what it is,” I agreed with my own salty tone.
“Dinner is almost ready.” I sighed eventually.
“I’m not hungry,” he murmured. “But thanks for cooking.”
“You’re eating, Serge. Whether you want to or not.”
He gave me a little smile, fingers glancing over my cheek.
“You’re too good to me, malishka.”
“No, I’m exactly right,” I smiled at him, pressing a quick kiss on his lips.
His smile deepened as he stared back into my eyes, his body releasing its tension.
Without another word, his eyes dropped to my lips as he slipped his hand around the back of my head and lowered my mouth to his again.
My quick, playful kiss turned full-on romantic and yearning.
“I know one way you can help me,” he said after a minute of our makeout session.
Oh yeah, baby!
“Anything,” I breathed like a wonton twenty year old.
“Go to the room,” his breath brushed against my eager lips. “Get undressed and wait for me.”
It’d been more than a week since we’d been physically intimate, and with all the emotional intimacy that’d happened, it was a much needed release for the both of us.
“Ok,” I agreed and went through the kitchen, turning off the stove and oven before heading toward the elevator.
In my room, I dropped all my clothes and waited on the bed.
He came a few minutes later, his pants already unbuttoned, hair mussed and eyes deep with longing.
Flicking his tight, soft t-shirt over his head, he joined me on the bed, body hovering over mine, chest to chest as he kissed me again.
We didn’t say anything for a while, letting our bodies speak instead.
And when we were all sweaty and out of breath, he just held me, partly for me, but mostly for him, I suspected.
After a long time of silence, he grated out a question with his sleepy voice.
“I don’t understand why you want to be with me,” he whispered into my ear.
My heart squished like a fist gripped it for all it was worth.
“I could ask you the same question,” I chuckled nervously.
“What do you mean?” he shifted closer. “You’re the whole package, Ad… You’re intelligent, you’re beautiful, you have a huge heart and you’re funny. Sometimes.”
I swatted him as best I could from my position with my back against his chest and he chuckled.
“Your successful, but you don’t let it define you. You love so deeply and you’re open minded… You’re everything a man could ever want in a woman.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Maybe for a man ten years older than you,” I breathed out a laugh. “Men like you want youth and vitality and adventure.”
“Youth?” he hummed. “Youth is temporary and fleeting. Vitality can be found in the mind, not the body, and you want adventure too, don’t you? You talked about it before; exploring and traveling.”
I nodded.
“I-” he breathed out a long breath before dropping his voice back to a whisper. “I don’t want to be your escort anymore, Adele.”
My heart stopped beating.
After all those nice things, here it was.
He wanted more. He wanted to explore life the way any man in his twenties always did.
He wanted more than me.
“I understand,” I nodded, peeling my body away from his.
He gripped onto my forearm and pulled me back, turning me to face him.
“I don’t think you do,” he said urgently. “I don’t want to be anyone’s escort anymore. I want to be free. I want to be everything Babushka always thought I was.”
My eyes teared up as they met his, swimming with vulnerability and honesty.
“That’s so wonderful, Serge,” I told him, feeling tears drop down my cheeks. “I know she was so proud of you and the man you are. You don’t have to have a certain occupation to do that. But she’ll be happy you’re moving on to something better in the future. You’ll find a nice girl who will...”
“Goddamnit, Adele. You’re not listening,” he growled, flipping us until I was on my back, his body hovering over me again. “I don’t want you to pay me to be your boyfriend, I want to be your boyfriend. We’re fucking perfect for each other, and you know it, too. And she loved you. Babushka loved you… and so do I.”
My breathe seized up again as I looked into his eyes.
He was serious.
Absolutely serious.
“But-but...I’m-”
“You’re all of those things I already said,” he breathed, his fingers stroking down my cheek. “You’re everything I want, malishka. Don’t you dare take that away from me. I can’t lose you, too.”
“I’m fifteen years older than you!” I almost shrieked.
“And I bet I could still put a baby in you if we tried,” he grinned devilishly.
I flushed from head to toe, my body heating again.
“But you never answered me, Adele. I love you. I want to be with you. As stupid and cliché as that sounds, that’s what will make me happy. You’re what I want for the rest of my life. The only question is if I’m what you want. Can you look past my career and my-”
“Shut up,” I growled, stopping him before he depreciated himself anymore.
His eyes shot back to mine in an expression of shock.
“Nobody gets to talk about you like that,” I told him. “Not even you.”
He gave a soft laugh, his eyes growing watery, too.
“But it’s true, Adele,” he shook his head, never letting his eyes stray from mine. “That was my life before this moment. I can’t change it. Honestly I never even cared before, how anyone thought about me or my decisions. Not until you, anyway.”
“You think I care?” I huffed. “I’ve dated guys who have probably slept with more girls than you, Serge. At least you stick around with some of the same. You’ve had longer relationships with them than most men have in this city.”
He huffed a laugh again, but didn’t argue.
My stomach was starting to burn up with the confession right on my lips.
“Serge I...Iloveyou!” I blurted out and he just stayed there, unmoving with a look of shock on his face.
His blank eyes were starting to get to me, so I poked him in the chest.
What kind of reaction was that? Wasn’t he supposed to say he loved me, too? He already admitted he did, but would that be so hard?
“You have to say something,” I told him, my voice quivering a little with my nervousness.
But he didn’t. He never said anything.
Instead he dipped his head and kissed me, long and slow in response, until warm rivulets of wetness touched my cheeks.
I brushed my thumb over his cheek and caught another tear as it made its way down his face.
It was all I needed. That told me everything I needed to know. And honestly, I was just grateful that I affected him even a small part of how he affected me.
I loved this man, and now, he knew it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Serge
I had expected her to say something back. Maybe ‘oh that’s so cute’, or possibly ‘that’s nice, kid’. But for her to tell me she loved me, too?
I breathed again, dragging in some smoke into my lungs and feeling the familiar burn and tingle to cough as I did.
It was my last one.
With how it had affected my grandmother’s health, and now with Adele admitting that she loved me too, I was giving up smoking permanently.
Adele had been excited when I told her it was my last box as I stepped onto the cold porch, needing a little air after our confession.
Holy fuck… she loved me!
I let a big grin spread over my face as I considered the fact.
Sure, I felt a lit
tle embarrassed that my first reaction was to fucking cry, but pretty soon she was crying too and we just kissed and cried and kept repeating those three words to each other until we eventually got up to have the dinner she’d prepared.
Adele was putting the last bit together while I was taking a moment to contemplate how my life had just completely changed.
And changed for the better.
I laughed outright, tossing the last of my cigarette to the ground. I had two more in the box so I took those out, too.
Stopping would be hard, but with such future spread out in front of me, it was worth every moment and every craving, because I wanted to be everything for her. I wanted to be the man of her dreams, just like she was the woman of mine.
Crushing those last two in my hand, I dropped them all from the roof and breathed in relief.
I may have lost Babushka, but throughout it, I'd gained something else.
The love of a perfect woman.
I stood in front of Iev’s house a couple days later, knowing that this would be either a really good idea, or a really bad one.
And when I say it could be good or bad, I really mean it could be kinda bad or ‘oh fuck’ bad.
Iev answered, seeing how it was eight in the evening, but he didn’t look too happy to see me.
“You need to take me to him,” I told my old friend. “Take me to Vishka.”
His eyes went wide as he stepped out of his house without a jacket or shoes on.
“Don’t say that name in my home,” he growled.
“Oh, you mean because your wife doesn’t know you work for the Russian mafia?”
He hushed again and put up a finger.
“Stay here.”
I did. I waited almost half an hour until he came back out, bundled for the snow.
“You must have a death wish,” he whispered harshly. “Why can’t you just do it? Just don’t tell your girlfriend.”
“I love her, Iev. I’m not going to lie to her or fucking cheat on her. I’m done with that lifestyle and Vishka needs to know that. Hear it from my own mouth.”
He just kept shaking his head as he got in his car, starting it up.
The drive wasn’t long. Vishka lived in a really posh area with a huge estate surrounded by tall, iron fences.
Security waited outside and looked over the car and us before letting us in.
“I called ahead,” Iev said eventually as we were making our way slowly down the winding driveway. “He wanted to see you. That’s the only reason you’re here.”
“Well good. I guess we had similar mindsets.”
Iev grunted and parked in the huge, round driveway.
Going into the house, I was stopped and they did a search of me.
Because while I was one of their men, I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t work closely with any of them, and only had a beneficial, partner relationship with them.
Therefore, they didn’t trust me.
So when they saw that I was unarmed, they escorted me into Vishka’s office.
“I was almost impressed to hear you were looking for me,” Vishka said with an amused look on his face.
As if me trying to find him was just fucking hilarious.
“I needed to talk to you, man to man,” I told him in Russian.
He slipped easily out of English and into our home language as he waved me towards a chair, asking me to sit.
I did, forcing my knee to stop bouncing up and down with my nicotine withdrawal shakes, and accepted the shot of vodka he handed to me.
Throwing it back, I looked him in the eye.
“We’ve done business together for years, yes?” I asked him. “And it’s been a good relationship. But now I don’t do that business and I can’t do what you’ve asked me to do. Besides. I met that girl, and I’d get nothing out of her by fucking her, anyway. She’s sharp.”
Vishka looked at me with a hard expression.
“You don’t tell me if you work for me, Sergei,” he said slowly. “I tell you if you work for me.”
“Sure,” I nodded. “I understand my place. That’s why I’ve come. I’m asking you to release me. You know I’d never say anything, and I know that you’re a man of your word.”
He stared at me for a long time, eyes unwavering as he considered my words.
“I wondered if you would be able to crack Antonia, anyway,” he said eventually, pouring another shot of vodka. “And I was sorry to hear about your grandmother. She was a pillar in our society and our faith. Many will miss her.”
I nodded, feeling a wave of sadness encompass me all over again.
“And only because of this, I consider your plea,” he added after a moment. “I know she would blister both our asses if she knew what we did.”
Vishka, while only a few years older than me, had managed to work himself into the top ranks of the New York establishment. We’d gone to the same school and we’d lived near each other growing up. He knew my Grandmother like everyone else did.
And he respected her like everyone else, too.
“Why do you want to leave us?” he said finally, sitting back in his chair after pouring shot number three.
“A woman,” I sighed. “I did a stupid thing and fell in love.”
He huffed.
“Even the great Sergei Volkov falls victim to a woman,” he mused with a shit-eating grin.
“Even me,” I sighed.
Staring at me again, he looked me up and down, sipping on shot number four before nodding.
“Out of respect for your grandmother, and because we have always been friends, I will grant your request, but on one condition.”
“What?” I asked my heart pumping like crazy, feeling a sliver of hope.
“You owe me a favor.”
“A favor?” I asked, confused.
“Yes. I collect them. They come in handy sometimes. You owe me one favor, and you will not be part of us anymore. I will not protect you, and you will not be welcome. Do you understand?”
I nodded grimly.
“And if I find out you ever said anything...”
“I never will. You know that,” I told him simply and he nodded.
“Fine. Now get out.”
I nodded again and stood, making my way quickly from the room.
“And Sergei,” he called after me and I paused. “I don’t care that you love her. I will call on that request eventually. And you will answer, or your woman dies.”
Eyes shutting briefly as nausea whipped through me, I eventually turned to him, walling up all emotion from my face before agreeing.
“One favor is yours.”
And that could very well be the end of me, that one favor.
But now it wasn’t just my freedom involved. It was Adele’s life.
He waved me away and I left the room, quickly being escorted away by the men nearby. Iev left with me and drove me back to the subway.
“You’re playing with fire,” he whispered at me, looking worried.
“I’ll be fine,” I told him, unbuckling myself. “Thank you for calling them for me.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else.
I had to wait a while for the train, but eventually I got back to South Manhattan and to my lover’s house, letting myself in with my own pair of keys before undressing and crawling into her bed.
“Where were you?” she asked, kissing me with a sleep-roughened voice.
“Taking care of some business,” I told her. “Everything’s taken care of now, malishka. It’s just you and me now.”
She smiled at me, eyes slitted with tiredness.
“Go back to sleep,” I smiled down at her and she closed her eyes again, smiling back.
I felt good.
Damn good.
Even with that threat of a favor hovering over my head, I was free to live as I wanted to live.
With Adele.
I was walking into her studio, on my way to surprise her with lunch to celebrate, not finding resistance
from any staff or security because, evidently, they all still remembered me.
Several women came up and gave me kisses on the cheek while I received handshakes from some men, but no matter how much I smiled, I could see Ryan across the studio, glaring at me with hate in his eyes.
“One minute for commercial!” a voice suddenly shouted and there was an upheaval of chaos around me.
People fluttered around, makeup artists touching up the salespeople's makeup and making sure their clothes still looked sharp before the countdown from ten.
“Great job everybody!” came a familiar voice as the countdown reached six.
Thumbs up all around as Adele made her way through the off-stage area, her heels off and only in stockinged feet as to keep quiet around the mics everywhere.
The final, silent three-two-one before the red light above the camera flicked on and they were back to selling.
I walked quietly over the carpeted floor and found Adele, sidled up beside Ryan at the main station, monitors blinking and flashing around with each of the camera’s views.
“Hey sexy,” I whispered in her ear, stringing my arms around her waist.
Adele jumped with a silent gasp as she turned, a smile breaking out and covering up the look of surprise.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with a laugh. “You want back on the screen?”
I grunted.
“No thank you. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime. I came to see you.”
“You could’ve just waited for me at home,” she kissed my lips quickly before moving out of my arms.
“Home?” Ryan looked up, eyes flicking back and forth between us.
“We live together,” Adele told him, then turned to me. “Well, sort of, anyway. You still have your old place.”
“We can use it as our weekend getaway,” I winked at her but Ryan lost it in a quiet, but roaring whisper.
“You’re still dating this hack?” he growled out.
Adele stiffened, arms folding over her chest.
“You need to go home, Ryan. That or you need to apologize.”
His jaw clenched and he glared at me for a minute longer before curling up his lip and grunting, “Sorry.”
She looked irritated still, but turned her back and led me toward the back area where the offices were.
