Stealing Beauty

“She is beautiful. And yes, that woman is my sister. You have nothing to be jealous of. So what are you telling me? Do you think I should let it go?”

I brush my hand across his light scruffy shadow coming in and kiss him softly. I pull back and suggest, “Call your sister and see what’s going on with her. My brother is not cold-hearted, and he’s not devious either.”

“Then that is what I’ll do. I know that she is old enough to make her own decisions and well, if she doesn’t want to leave, I won’t do anything about it.”

“Good.” Just then my tummy decided all conversation was over.

“Oh hell, I am going to be a terrible husband. I fucked my child into your womb, then roll over to sleep. Next, I yell at you, only to finish off the asshole award by starving you.”

“Wow, you made that more dramatic than it is. I am hungry, but how about you show me to some food then call your sister.”

“Whatever you wish as long as you promise not to leave.”

“I’m confused about all of this, but I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses me once more before my belly does an encore performance. He stands up with me in his arms, cradling me, then carries me out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

I giggle when he sits me on the large countertop. “I don’t think that’s where I’m supposed to sit.”

“Why, you’re the most delicious thing in this house. Now stay there, and I will have us some food prepared,” he orders, kissing my nose before moving around to the fridge. “Do you want some tacos?”

“Tacos?”

“Yes, I know you like them.”

“Like is hardly the word I would go with, but how did you…never mind. I should have known that you would know what I eat.”

“Not everything, but I have seen you eat a time or two.” I roll my eyes at him. He twists his head to the side, looking at me intently. “I’m sorry, but I wanted my world safe and prepared before we met.”

“What do you mean safe? Are you a…?”

“No, I’ve never been…how you say, a gangster. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop the possible violence that could happen.” I can read the sorrow pouring off of him.

“I have a feeling there’s a story in there. Are you willing to tell me?”

“My parents were brilliant and wealthy back in Moscow. They worked hard and had put their money away. One night, a group of killers came to demand my father work for them. He refused. Two weeks later while my brother and sister were in school, my parents were shot and killed. I came home as they were running out of our home and was shot as well.” He lifts his shirt, and through the thin patch of hair on his chest, there’s a scar. “I am lucky to be alive.” I break down. I didn’t know him back then, but it feels as if I almost lost him. The more that idea dances in my head, the more I think about never getting the chance to meet him. “Don’t cry, Lyubov moya,” he says, sliding his arms around my body and holding me tight.

“I’m sorry. This is nuts.”

“Well, at least we’re in it together. Let me get some food in you because my cock is eager to be in you again.”

“Andale pues. Tengo hambre,” I tease, shoving him back playfully.

“I’m hungry, too,” he growls in my ear.

“I didn’t know you understood Spanish.”

“I don’t really, some things I’ve heard before. I live in Miami after all. I sure as hell can’t read it.” He walks away, taking out some arrachera, and some veggies. My eyes widen because he has everything I like. I smile to myself and hop off the counter. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to help you chop up the vegetables.”

“Fine, you do that. I’ll take this out to the grill. But give me a kiss first.”

“Okay, that I can do.” He takes my mouth in a deep kiss before pulling back and heading out the sliding door. I laugh to myself because this feels so normal. I look to see that he’s given me enough space to run, but I don’t want to leave. Instead, I search the kitchen for a cutting board and a knife. I love the kitchen. It’s perfect like it was meant for me. I wonder…nah. It’s just modern and beautiful.

I wash the vegetables and pull out a few small bowls, then begin the chopping. I catch Mikhail looking up from the grill at me. He smiles, and like an idiot, I stare at him like a love-struck fool. I get back to chopping and smiling down at my own silliness.

Chapter 7

Mikhail

I can’t stop looking at her. My phone rings, and I force myself to take my eyes away from her. I answer it when I see it’s Natasha, “Please tell me you’re okay.”