Prologue
Misha
Today, the war ended.
Valentina, Maxwell, and I had killed Luka and others in St. Petersburg. News came from Moscow that Kazimir and his mouse had shot down Sasha.
All would be peaceful for now.
I’d lost my father in this war. In the brotherhood, they’d called him the Old Fox. He’d been the last of my living parents. When I was a kid, my father’s enemy had viciously murdered my mother. Truthfully, my father died that day. He was never the same after my mother’s death. In many ways, I spent the majority of my life as a parentless child.
None of that is important now. I finally have Ava. After all this time.
Tonight, Ava performed the principal role in La Bayadère.
Her best friend Olesya had been killed. The police had discovered her dead body in a suite at the Four Seasons. The hotel was barely five minutes from my father’s home. No doubt Valentina had murdered Olesya. I just couldn’t prove it. And didn’t feel like wasting my time. No one would discipline Kazimir’s spoiled sister.
However, someone would have to tell Kazimir. He’d slept with Olesya, and so did Valentina. That whole situation in itself was enough to keep my head spinning. Regardless, Olesya’s untimely death gave opportunity to Ava.
She should’ve been the principal the whole time.
It was a crime that Ava had only been made principal after Olesya’s death. If anything, I should send Valentina flowers for the murder. For a year, I’d wanted to push the matter with the company and force them to make Ava principal, but Ava probably wouldn’t have liked that.
None of that matters now.
During the ballet, Ava had showed the theater and everyone in St. Petersburg the star she truly was. She owned the role of Nikiya, leaping and shoving the audience on edge. Adrenaline had coursed through me. In the haunting light, her skin had flushed and glimmered.
I couldn’t help wondering if that was how she would look after sex.
I’ll know soon.
That evening, Ava and I stepped out of the theater together for the first time. The sounds of St. Petersburg filled my ears—horns, voices, the backfire of engines. Cool air breezed through the curls that hung from her exquisite bun.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
Ava wore a strapless red gown, matching the color and delicateness of all the roses I had delivered to her at the end of the performance. The rose red gown glimmered. It was an intensified mingling of red with her smooth brown skin. With long legs and ballerina strength, she was all curves and sensual muscle. Her small cleavage teased from the top. Those breasts would be nice little morsels in my mouth.
Now, I finally have her. Tonight, I’ll show her all the things I never said.
For this past year, I would never have been so bold to approach her. I’d waited in the shadows. Scared. Nervous. Telling myself that I should take my time, when secretly I’d been terrified of her rejection.
But now, after my father’s death, I would no longer give in to that fear.
I would live my life to the fullest and take more chances.
And I’ll never leave her alone.
As Ava and I left the theater, I gently squeezed her hand.
A blush reached her face.
My limo waited in the front of the theater.
When he spotted us our approach, my driver climbed out, rushed to the door, and held it open.
For a few seconds, Ava hesitated and then stepped inside the limo, sweeping the red gown up with her. As she slid in, the split of the gown opened and exposed her lush thigh. My cock grew hard. Thank God, she disappeared into the car. I might’ve taken her right on the street.
I almost groaned in annoyance.
Calm down and try not to rip her gown off in the limo. Take your time.
Any other woman throughout Russia would’ve been happy to share my bed. Many didn’t know my dark connections or murderous roots. Most thought I was a successful businessman in the tech industry. A few whispered about my small link to the brotherhood. But with the way things worked in Russia, no one ever assumed that I didn’t deal with a little blood, as I made my money.
But Ava had been smart. While she didn’t know it all, she’d kept her distance. It could’ve been due to Olesya’s dealing with Kazimir and Valentina. Perhaps, she’d been too focused with her career. I’d monitored her for a year. No man ever came around.
She’d kept to herself.
Not anymore.
I climbed into the limo after her.
The driver shut the door and rushed back to the front. And then we pulled away.
Will she let me taste her tonight?
Inside the limo, I studied her, drinking in the gorgeous bun that I wanted to unravel. When she danced, she kept her hair pinned up. But in that moment, I wondered how she had her hair, when she fucked.