I grabbed him and roughly thrust him toward Callahan so he could drag him out to the car. We had to be careful in case any of Alfonsi’s other men were around. A band of Italian soldiers discovering us dragging their toddler-brained leader outside would not be good for us.
“You son of a bitch! You won’t get away with this! You’re a dead man, Volkov!” Alfonsi screamed as Callahan rolled his eyes and dragged him out the door.
Oh yes, I was going to enjoy hurting this asshole.
Chapter 32
Katya
I grabbed the food platters off the table and walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, Katya, will you grab me a water?” Nikolai shouted from his spot on the couch.
“Why are you here again?” I asked teasingly.
“I thought I was supposed to pick up Hannah and Emmy,” Nikolai grumbled.
Nobody believed that. He’d shown up about a half-hour ago, and we all collectively rolled our eyes. He swore he thought he was supposed to pick up Hannah, but we knew he was probably freaked out about her being here considering what happened this afternoon, so we didn’t hassle him too much about it.
“Right, right,” I said sarcastically, handing him a bottle of water.
He shot me a look but didn’t say anything. “The place looks good, Katya. Way better than before.” If he was trying to make amends for his presence, he picked the right subject to soften me up. I really loved what we’d done to Drago’s place. Just a series of small touches really warmed the place up and made it much more charming and inviting.
“Thanks! My crew of co-decorators should also get some credit, though,” I said magnanimously. I had three heads swinging in my direction before they busted out laughing.
“Katya, please,” Hannah said through chuckles.
“What?”
Anya nudged me with her elbow. “You know this was all you. Emmy chipped in with a few things, but me and Hannah just sat here and stuffed our faces. We all know this is your thing. I’m sure you would have allowed us to place a few things, maybe drape a blanket over something, but you probably would have changed it after we left.”
I blushed as the veracity of her words rang in my ears. In fact, the few things Emmy had done, I’d gone behind her and adjusted, whether it was the placement of a candle or a throw pillow. “Oh my god, I’m such a control freak. I’m sorry, guys. How lame of me to invite you over and not let you participate.”
“Katya, this place looks amazing. Decorating is your thing. You just understand how things should go together, whether it’s clothes, accessories, or decorations. We just wanted to hang out with you. Believe me, I don’t think Anya and I are going to cry ourselves to sleep tonight because we didn’t get to decide where to hang your pre-Raphaelite prints,” Hannah said with good humor.
Anya snorted in agreement. “Yeah, I was more than happy just to sit here and let you do all the work,” Anya said, flopping back on the couch. “You’ve seen my bedroom. It looks like a prison cell.”
I was the one snorting now because that was the truth. Anya was so self-contained, it was like she was afraid if displayed even one item of personal value, it would reveal all of her vulnerabilities. Her room has less personality than a hotel room.
“We should get going,” Nikolai piped up. He’d been shooting Hannah heated glances for the last fifteen minutes, so I was wondering how long he’d last.
Hannah nodded her head. “Yeah, it’s getting late. Are you okay to be alone, Katya?”
I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. It was so much fun.”
Anya phone chirped. She looked at it and blushed. “Callahan’s downstairs. He wants to give me a ride.”
“I bet he does,” Hannah said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Anya’s cheeks glowed pink, but she laughed. “I bet he’s going to want to talk. Ugh, I don’t know if I want to get into everything tonight. There are still issues that I don’t know how to talk about.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“My father. I definitely don’t want to talk about what he did to Callahan, and I don’t know if I’m ready to discuss the fact that…he killed my father.” Anya stumbled over the words.
Nikolai shrugged as if that was incidental information. “Drago took out Katya’s dad, and it hasn’t seemed to affect their relationship,” he said flippantly, earning him a sour look from Hannah and a smack in the arm.
My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach dropped to my feet as I stared at Nikolai in shock. “Drago killed my father?” I gasped.
Nikolai’s eyebrows jumped, and he blew out a breath. “Shit. You didn’t know that?” he asked, looking contrite.
I shook my head, shocked at what Nikolai had just revealed.
Nikolai ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, Katya, we had just found out that Sergei had fucking sold you to Yuri, and that Yuri was trying to collect on it. He was a little stressed and very fucking pissed,” Nikolai was quick to say, eager to defend Drago from any possible blowback.
I nodded my head automatically. What Nikolai was saying made sense. It wasn’t like I thought my father had died of natural causes. I knew he’d been murdered. I just didn’t realize Drago had been the one to kill him. I didn’t like my father, he’d never been a real parent to Ivan or me, so it wasn’t like I felt betrayed. I wasn’t sure what I felt.
“Are you okay, Katya?” Hannah asked, concern stamped all over her features.
“Yeah,” I rasped, waving my hand to dismiss her worry. “Yeah, of course, I mean, my father was a horrible person. It makes sense that Drago had been the one to…” I trailed off, not even wanting to repeat it.
“Does Ivan know?” I asked Nikolai. Nikolai looked distressed, as if the continuation of this conversation was causing him physical pain. He was probably thinking about how Drago was going to react to him dropping this on me.
“Yeah, he knows. In fact, he was angry that he didn’t get to do it.”
Hannah gasped and gave him another swat in the arm.
“What? Really?” I asked in surprise. God, Ivan really did hate our dad. I can’t say I blamed him, but he’d actually wanted to kill him? This was a hell of a way to end the evening. I’d better shoo Nikolai out the door before he told me that Drago had killed my 9th-grade Algebra teacher that I’d always hated.
“Yeah…” Nikolai responded slowly, clearly afraid of blurting any other information out.
“Okay, yeah, I mean, I get it. No love lost between Ivan and dad, or Drago and dad, or me and dad, for that matter. It makes sense,” I babbled, eager to lighten the conversation so I could get them out the door and process this new information.
“Katya, are you sure you’re okay?” Anya asked, her eyebrows pinched in concern as she rubbed my shoulder.
I smiled at everyone and watched them collectively relax. “Yes, of course. I mean, I didn’t know, but it’s not really that surprising, given the circumstances.”
It was exactly what everyone wanted to hear to put them at ease. Each of them hugged me goodbye.
Nikolai hugged me. “Sorry, Katya, seriously. Don’t hold this against Drago. The way your dad told us about the deal…it was a fucked-up situation.”
I nodded my head in understanding and gave him a smile to reassure him. “It’s fine, honestly.”
Nikolai gave me a speculative look but nodded his head in acceptance and followed Hannah to the elevator.
I waved at everyone as the doors closed and walked to the couch and flopped down. Now I had all the time in the world to process my thoughts about Drago murdering my father. When I really got down to it, I understood why Drago did it. My father had done any number of things that should have resulted in his death. I suppose I should find it vindicating on some level that selling me to Yuri, putting me in harm’s way and almost ruining my life, was what actually got him killed.
I was so deep in thought about tonight’s revelation that I jumped when my phone chimed, indicating an
incoming text.
Drago: This is going to take a while. I may not make it home tonight. We finally found Antonio Alfonsi.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about him being gone all night. Of course, I wanted him to come home, and after this afternoon, it was kind of creepy being alone even with guards at the door. However, I was still mulling over what I’d learned about Drago killing my dad. I was being a stupid distraction, but I just had to ask him about it.
Katya: Did you kill my father?
I immediately regretted sending the text. What was I thinking dropping this in his lap when he’s dealing with Antonio Alfonsi and whatever Yuri-related business that involved? I stared at my phone waiting for a reply, but nothing happened. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the phone started ringing in my hand.
“Hello?” I asked, even though I knew who it was.
“Katya, who told you that?”
“Nikolai dropped it into a conversation about Callahan killing Anya’s father. He seemed to think I already knew.”
Who would ever imagine a friend group where two of us had boyfriends who’d killed our fathers? Hannah’s dad had better watch his back.
He blew out a breath. “I see.”
“Did you kill my father?”
“Yes.”
“Do you regret it? Now that we’re together and everything?” I wasn’t even sure what answer I was looking for from him. Did I want him to regret it? I think I was just trying to sort out my reaction to this information and had forced my process on him.
“No,” he answered flatly. “I’m grateful that it was me, especially now that we are together.”
I couldn’t stop the small gasp that flew past my lips. “Why?”
“Why the fuck do you think? He sold you to Yuri. I could never let him live after learning that. Of course, he was already as good as dead by Mikhail’s orders anyway, both he and Yuri, but after I found out what he’d done? I needed to kill him. He was lucky I only put a bullet in his head. It should have been much worse.”
I was shocked to feel tears streaming down my face, a necessary emotional release during a heavy conversation. These tears represented everything. They were for my terrible father, for the fact that the love of my life had to put a bullet in my father’s head, that a maniac was trying to abduct me every five minutes, for our insane lives that made every circumstance we encountered layered with ten levels of trauma.
I sniffed. “I…I—” I tried to choke out.
“Katya,” Drago said soft urgency, “I understand this is upsetting. I really do, but you have to understand. He couldn’t get away with that. I’ll never let anyone get away with hurting you. Fucking with you is a death sentence, even if it’s your family.” His voice sounded harder now, as if he was trying to be patient, but was also supremely confident regarding the righteousness of his actions. Ironically, I wasn’t even really upset with him. I was just…upset.
“I actually understand. I do. It’s just…so much. Everything is so much,” I said, suddenly exhausted.
“I know, kotyonok, I know. It will be over soon, I promise. I wish I could be there, but with Alfonsi here, I can’t leave yet. He needs to tell us about Yuri.”
I blew out a sigh, feeling a little silly for bothering him. “I’m sorry to hassle you with this and interrupt your…” Torture? Dismemberment? Murder? “Interrogation,” I finally said.
“No, Katya,” he chastised lightly. “I expect you to come to me about anything that’s upsetting you, especially if I’m involved. My job is to take care of you. That fucker can wait—you can’t.”
I felt tears spring to my eyes at Drago’s passionately spoken words. Had anyone ever prioritized me like this? If anyone had, I couldn’t remember it. Drago making so much space for me—my feelings, my experiences, and sometimes, my pain and suffering—filled an empty space inside of me, a deep-seated loneliness I had felt since childhood. It was an aspect of being in a relationship that had never occurred to me. I had always thought it was about being with someone you adored, were attracted to, and in my case, were obsessed with for years. But it was so much more than that. It was about trusting someone with your problems, your worries, your secrets, and allowing them to take care of you.
I took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much what you said means to me—what you mean to me. You’re everything,” I whispered, still not trusting my full voice.
“Kotyonok…” Drago rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “Fuck, I wish I was with you right now. Do you want to hear what I’d do to you if I was there?” he asked, the sensuality running through the Russian-accented words sending shivers down my spine.
“I’m not sure,” I whispered back, stunned and horrified that I was getting turned after what we’d just discussed. Then I remembered how Drago explained stress management related to trauma. Or rather, I remembered how we’d dealt with it, and my nerve endings sizzled. “What would you do?” I asked coyly, completely embracing this coping mechanism.
“Oh, kitty, I want to fucking ravage you right now.”
The English version of my nickname didn’t sound silly like it normally did. The way he had uttered it, with intensity, with wickedness, with eroticism, had me clenching my thighs as heat flooded my core.
I made a sound that was half moaning, half panting.
“Christ, Katya, do you know how difficult it is to interrogate someone with a hard dick? It sends all the wrong messages,” he said in heated exasperation.
I grinned and felt a rush of erotic power. To bring a man like Drago, powerful and commanding, to his knees was a heady experience. “I’m sorry. What can I do to make it better?” I asked, dropping my voice a bit.
I heard his breathing grow heavier and a crashing sound. “Fuck! I don’t have time for this, Katya. I had only intended to call you to set you straight about your father,” he chided, his voice thick with desire and frustration.
“And now?” I asked, curious about his new intentions.
There was a small pause. “Now, I want you to go lie on the bed and take your clothes off. I want you to grab that vibrator and make yourself come while I listen.”
My jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”
“You heard me. Do it, Katya.”
“Is this the punishment?” I asked as I walked into the bedroom. I grabbed one of my bags and pulled out the sex toy that had been shoved in there earlier, I hadn’t been sure where to put it when I’d unpacked, and I definitely wasn’t going to ask any of the girls. I quickly shed my clothes and climbed on top of the soft comforter, the cool cotton sliding against my naked skin.
“Does fucking yourself with a vibrator and making yourself come for me seem like punishment?”
“Well, no…”
“If anyone is being punished, it’s me. I’m the one who is going to be listening while you play with that pretty pizda.” I blushed, recognizing the very dirty Russian word for the female anatomy. “I will be wishing it was my dick inside of you, instead of a piece of fucking plastic. Now, are you naked on the bed?”
“Yes,” I responded hoarsely, desire seizing my vocal cords.
“Are you sore?”
“Sore?”
“Your pussy, Katya. Is your pussy sore from last night? Was I too rough?” he asked, the scratch tone of his voice not making it clear if he was looking me to affirm or deny his question.
My face was burning, and I had to remind myself—I’m an adult. Adults talk about stuff like this. Right? “Oh, oh, no. I’m okay.”
“When I get home, I’m going to fuck you all night long—I look forward to making that pretty little pussy sore.”
I squeaked, uncertain how to respond. “What if I was sore? Would we stop?”
“Stop? Oh, no, kotyonok, I would just find a different way to make you purr.”
I was breathing heavily, imagining all the things he might have in mind. “Well, I’m okay, so...” I trailed off, eager to see what he was going to have me do, b
ut not completely comfortable asking for it.
Drago chuckled. “Now that I know you’re okay, I expect you to follow every one of my commands, understood?”
“Yes.”
“Spread your legs.”
“Okay.”
“Turn on the vibrator and start rubbing it up and down your pussy, then circle your clit. Slowly.”
I did as he asked, slowly sliding the tip of the vibrating toy up and down my pussy, quickly moving it where he directed. I gasped with pleasure, having a difficult time holding the phone.
“Katya, what are you thinking about?”
“That I wish you were here, that I wish it was you touching me.” That was nothing but the truth. Playing with the toy made me miss him more. “Are you touching yourself?”
“Fuck, yes, I am. Hold on. I’m going to switch to Facetime. I have to see you,” he growled.
I stared at the phone as I answered his facetime call and was suddenly looking at Drago’s face in the dim light of his office. His grey eyes were hooded, and his jaw tight with restrained passion.
“Hi,” I said shyly.
“Hello, moya Katya. I don’t have fucking time for this, but you have proven yourself a worthy distraction,” he reiterated, but his face was stamped with lust. “Move the phone, so I can see what you’re doing. Put a pillow between your legs and prop the phone against the pillow.”
“What? I can’t do that!” I yelped. “You’ll be staring directly at my, my…”
“Exactly. Do it, Katya. Now.”
I didn’t know why, but for some reason, I was helpless against Drago’s direct commands. I put the phone between my spread legs and picked up the vibrator again.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growled. “Continue what you were doing before,” he said huskily.
I complied, moving the vibrator slowly up and down and around my clit, and heard him groan and murmur broken Russian. “That’s it, kotyonok. You are so fucking sexy. Rub your other hand over your breasts, pinch and pull your nipples as you slowly start fucking yourself with the vibrator,” he commanded, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed gravel.
Drago (Dangerous Love Book 3) Page 19
