“Kir Drozdov won’t be happy. You made assurances.”
“I will follow through. The Drozdov Bratva will be taken care of. But I consider my deal with Giatno and the Liberto Mafia over after he went against my wishes and tried to kill Cassie.”
“I understand. This is really going to shake shit up, boss.”
“I hope so.”
Erick grinned, saluted, and left.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.
I should focus on the task at hand. Darren would be a problem. The Drozdov would need soothing. There were a thousand ways my plans could turn to shit.
Still all I could think about was Cassie’s lips wrapped around my thick cock.
Pretty Cassie with her baggy clothes.
Hiding that incredible body.
Stripped bare for me.
This was going to be a problem, but one I very much enjoyed.
14
Roman
I refilled my whiskey and tried not to think about Cassie.
The look on her face as I made her come was like heaven. Pure bliss, part fear, all desire. She was at my mercy, at her most exposed, open to me like a flower that only bloomed once in its lifetime under the exact perfect circumstances.
I wanted that look again.
But something kept bothering me. I hated this feeling—like there was something I left unfinished.
I stood up and paced my office.
This never happened to me. I never second-guessed myself, not in a very long time. I learned very young that hesitation could get me killed.
My brother Anthony taught me that.
And later, my father reinforced the lesson the worst way imaginable.
I tightened my grip on the glass. I could still remember that crisp winter morning. I woke up from nightmares of that frozen-over lake, the ice barely thick enough to hold the weight of a young, shivering boy, barely twelve years old with sandy blond hair and bright green eyes and a big smile, the only good thing in my life.
My older brother spent half his days surviving and the other half trying to protect me from our father’s repulsive training.
There were the swims. The long distance runs. The fighting, the beating, the shouting. There were and endless string of tutors: math and science, history and art, languages, so many languages all jumbled up in my head.
Through it all, Anthony was there to help. We kept each other afloat.
I didn’t quite appreciate how badly I needed that support until that freezing cold morning. Until Father forced Anthony out onto the ice.
“No,” I said out loud, forcing myself back into the present. I couldn’t let my mind drift there again. My body vibrated with anxiety and I felt that strange, sinking pulsing feeling in my gut and my feet, the same feeling I got whenever I thought about the day I lost Anthony and my life changed forever.
Like my toes were frozen. Like my skin was frostbitten.
I threw back the whiskey, but it wouldn’t help. Nothing would help, not when I got like this. Though maybe if I drank enough, I’d pass out before I could delve too deep into my past.
“No,” I said again, clenching my jaw, and shoved my office door open. I wasn’t doing this, not now, not tonight when there were so many more important things for me to do. I didn’t need to keep reliving that one half-hour stretch of my life over and over again, letting each detail sink deeper into my skin, scarring me, ripping me into pieces and reaffirming why I was doing all of this.
It wasn’t for my father, though on the face of it, I was trying to get revenge for him.
It was for me. It was for control and power.
Because without power, anyone could hurt me and kill the people I care about.
With it, there wasn’t a man in this world that could touch the family I’ve created.
Cassie’s room was midway down the hall. I hesitated outside of it, wondering if this was a bad idea, but I wanted to check on her. I left her at a bad moment, post-orgasm, wondering what the hell she was going to do about this situation.
I left her alone and afraid to dwell on what I said.
And on what I’d done.
But now I wanted to make sure she was okay.
I cleared my throat and knocked. Silence for a beat, then: “Come in.”
I opened the door.
Cassie was curled up near the fireplace. It crackled and radiated a steady, even warmth. It was a gas burner and lacked the smell and the charm of wood, but it still made the air in her room hot and heavy with humidity.
She looked up and tilted her chin into the air.
“Came to force me into another contract?”
“No, I already got what I wanted out of you.’
She grimaced. That was the wrong thing to say. I cursed inwardly.
I was out of practice being kind.
I shut the door and walked toward her, but didn’t get too close.