The Director (Chicago Bratva 1)

Crap.

He doesn’t.

“Out,” the guard repeats.

A heavy hand drops on my back. “Oh!” I startle and turn around. Oleg is standing there. He must’ve come in behind me. “Oleg! Zdravstvuyte,” I say, as if by speaking Russian, I’ll magically be able to communicate with him.

He picks up my suitcase and pushes gently on my back, directing me toward the elevator.

The guard says something to Oleg in Russian, and the giant nods without looking back, propelling me gently away from him. We get in the elevator, and I blink up at him.

“Thank you. Blagodaryu vas.”

He doesn’t nod or do anything but stare blankly back at me. If I didn’t already trust the guy, I’d find being alone in an elevator with him extremely intimidating.

He opens the door to the penthouse.

Everything is as normal—Dima, Nikolai and Pavel lounge in the living room, the television on.

Except then I see Ravil standing at the bank of windows that overlook the water. Staring out at the blackness.

Pavel sees me first and lunges for the remote, turning the television off. “Did you go and get her?” he asks Oleg, as if in awe.

Ravil turns around. The moment his eyes land on me, he says, “leave us,” and everyone in the room evacuates.

His expression is dead. Blue eyes cold.

“Why are you here?” he demands.

Okay. So much for a warm welcome. He must be angry over the arrests, then.

Normally, I’d put a little more starch in my backbone to square off against my adversary. But I don’t want to be adversaries anymore. I want us to be lovers. Partners.

So I say, “I had a craving for perogies.”

It doesn’t soften him. “I’m sorry. I think we’re all out.”

My stomach twists, and Benjamin kicks back.

He walks slowly toward me, and as he does, I see his expression isn’t cold. It’s tortured. He has dark circles under his eyes, and he hasn’t shaved in a couple days, at least. “I let you go, Lucy. You shouldn’t have come back.”

I blink back tears. What is he saying? He doesn’t want me anymore? Actually, he’d never said he did—he’d just wanted the baby. But he’d acted like he did. Had I read it all wrong? “Maybe…” I struggle to control the wobble in my voice. “Maybe I didn’t want to be let go.”

He comes closer. His expression is shadowed with pain. “Don’t say it if it’s not true.”

“It’s true.”

He stops in front of me, taking in my suitcase, which Oleg left out here. He reaches out and brushes his knuckles across my cheekbone. “I won’t settle for partway. I want all of you.” Pain radiates from him.

I reach out and cup his cheek. “I’m here, Ravil. This is where I want to be. With you. Raising our son.”

Ravil lets out a wounded sound and attacks my mouth, his lips and teeth and tongue devouring me with a searing kiss. “Are you sure?” He scoops me up, honeymoon style, even though I’m way too big now.

“I need you,” I tell him.

His smile is feral. He carries me to his bedroom and kicks the door open. Deposits me on the bed.

“I missed you,” I tell him as I pull off my maternity top.

“I fucking died without you,” he swears, helping me slide off my yoga pants.

“I love you, Ravil.” There. I told him. No more holding back. It’s long past the time for vulnerability.

He stops what he’s doing as if he’s listening to be sure he heard me right.

“I love you,” I repeat.

“Ya lyublyu tebya. I’m fucking crazy about you. I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I saw you in that red dress at Black Light. You know something?” He trails kisses up the outside of my arm.

“What?”

“I had a plan that night. I didn’t think you’d get paired with me by the roulette wheel because I don’t believe in luck.” He gives me a wicked grin. “I believe in plans. And my plan was to pay off the man lucky enough to be paired with you.”

“But I landed on you,” I say with a smile, remembering how horrified I’d been.

“Yes, my Lady Luck,” he says, referring to the name I’d taken for the night.

“You frightened me at first,” I admit. “Only because of the tattoos. But you knew how to handle my nerves. You were wonderful. Exactly what I needed.” I slide my hand over my baby bump.

He kisses it. “Exactly what we both needed.” He spreads my legs and drags his tongue through my folds. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to the ultrasound yesterday. I just didn’t think I could handle seeing you. I was too broken.”

I catch his head and massage his scalp.

“Was he perfect?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“I will come to the next one.”

“I’m having this baby at home. In the tub. With you.”

Ravil smiles. His face has transformed from the haunted mask in the living room. Now he appears almost boyish. “You don’t have to, kotyonok. I was never going to force it. I was pushing your boundaries, that’s all.”