Conquered Bride (Belaya Bratva 1) - Page 46

CHAPTER 24

Gavril


“Everything is in place with the shipment. It will leave today.”


I held the phone to my ear, staring out of the bank of windows that gave me the best view of the river as the sun rose. “If anything is wrong with that shipment when it arrives in LA, I will hold you personally responsible.”


“Of course, Pakhan.” Surov laughed. “I will not fail.”


I ended the call before he could say anything else and tucked my cell phone back into my pocket. I had thought bringing Naomi here would be good for her. But now, after what she’d told me last night, I wasn’t so sure anymore.


Sighing, I let my shoulders slump momentarily and drummed my fingers against my thigh. So much was riding on this shipment. Not only my personal future, but the future of the Belaya Bratva as a whole. I needed the Krasnaya brigadiers to be on my side, and delivering this shipment of women to them was going to be the only olive branch I would extend.


A token of goodwill so that they would believe I was looking out for their best interests.


Because the last thing I needed was a coup from within.


I took a sharp breath and stared at the languid waters of the Neva as the endless summer sun teased the horizon.


Had my father stood in this very spot and contemplated his next steps? Had he worried about his own future? His family’s future?


For the first time in a very long time, I missed him.


This entire house was full of ghosts. The happiness was muted because of my mother and her tyrannical ways. And as much as I would have loved to take my sisters back with me when we returned to LA, she would never let them go. She’d seen enough in her years to abandon the naivety of trust.


She’d swallowed her pride to keep us alive. And she’d do anything to keep my sisters from falling into the same trap she had.


Which meant she would never let them do anything that didn’t fit into her view of what our world and our lives were supposed to be like.


I should have expected her to interrogate Naomi. No one could ever live up to my mother’s expectations. The sheer horror on Naomi’s face had told me everything I needed to know.


What have you told her, Maria Afanasyevna? I wondered. Did you tell her how you sold your body for your children? Did you threaten her with that familiar cruelty every Russian woman knows?


I’d heard those stories more times than I would have liked, especially when she felt the need to remind me that it had been she who had put me in this powerful position, not my father. And each time she would remind me of the grim reality of our people: a thousand years of suffering in our veins, and every generation must have its due.


But she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered. I had my own fucking pain. We all did.


Turning away from the circling sun, I walked back into my apartment and moved to the bedroom. My apartment was my sanctuary. It was off-limits to my mother, both in visiting and decorating. And for better or worse, she respected these boundaries.


Naomi would be safe here, but I couldn’t keep her cooped up in the bedroom forever. My mother would find other ways to force me to conform to her will.


When I approached the bed, Naomi was still curled under the comforter. A peculiar tightening crossed my chest as I gazed down at her. Somewhere along the way, she had become Naomi and not Sveta to me. Maybe it was the driving need to protect her or the fact that she met me on even ground with the same insatiable thirst I had.


Maybe she had been put in my path for a purpose bigger than I had imagined.


Either way, she was mine. I wasn’t about to give her up to please my mother. Or anyone else, for that matter.


Easing into the bed beside her, I brushed the hair out of her face and was rewarded with the crinkle of her nose as she slumbered on. She made me feel things, things that I shouldn’t feel. It was more than just the animal satisfaction of sex. I knew that for a fact.


But the very thought that she made me feel terrified me. Because to feel was dangerous in my world.


Taking her as my wife was dangerous enough, especially since everyone still believed she was Sveta Orlov. As Sveta, she could be used against me as a pawn by my enemies, or worse, as a pawn to destroy my Bratva. But it would be manageable. The rules of the game would be the same as they had always been.


But Naomi Spencer? Naomi Spencer could rip apart everything my family had suffered for.


A different Gavril from just a few weeks ago would have given her up without a second thought. Maybe even put a bullet in her brain to tie up the loose ends.


But now?


That was no longer an option. I was too driven by my plans to have it all. And now I was suffering the consequences of that decision in more ways than one.


A thousand years of suffering in our veins, indeed.


I ran a possessive hand down her back, savoring the feel of her soft skin against my calloused hands. Her eyes fluttered awake and dreamily focused on me. For a moment, she gave me a soft smile and I wanted to climb back into bed with her to grow that smile into those addicting breathy sighs I craved, or the throaty cries of pleasure each time I buried myself deep inside her.


My cock pressed against my pants, but I willed it down. We didn’t have time to fuck right now.


“Good morning,” she said sleepily, snuggling against the pillow, her hand reaching out to grasp mine. I let her, and swallowed a few times to tamp down my racing heart. Fuck me. What I wouldn’t give for her to touch me like this for the rest of my life.


“It’s time to get dressed,” I said instead, dropping my touch from her body and dislodging her hand from mine. This wasn’t the sort of union I wanted between us. This was something that I wasn’t sure I could deal with. “We are due at breakfast.”


Naomi closed her eyes, and I watched as she stretched like a cat.


“It’s with your mom, isn’t it?” she finally asked.


The distaste in her voice nearly brought a grin to my lips, and I stood abruptly to hide it from her. “She will be there, yes.”


“She doesn’t like me,” Naomi replied as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “And I think the feeling is mutual. I’m sorry, Gavril. I know she’s your mother. But she’s horrible.”


I put some distance between us, mainly because if I came close to her again, there’d be no way we’d leave the bedroom today.


“She can be difficult,” I said.


Naomi laughed softly as she located her suitcase and pulled it on top of the bed.


“Difficult is having to go without In-N-Out for a week in order to get the role you have always wanted to play. Your mother is on a different level.”


I smiled, unable to help it. “I’m certain you can handle her.”


She shot me a look as she pulled out some clothing. “I’m not so sure. I think she eats small children for breakfast.”


The laugh escaped me before I could rein it in, and Naomi’s eyes widened.


“You did it again,” she said. “You laughed.”


“I did not,” I said immediately, feeling a dull flush of embarrassment creep over my face. “A Pakhan does not laugh.”


Naomi walked over to me, still wearing one of my T-shirts she had thrown on last night, the hem barely scraping the top of her thigh. My cock roared to attention at the thought of stripping off the T-shirt and finding her naked underneath.


Wet and ready for me.


“No,” she accused, pushing a finger into my chest. “You laughed. Do it again so I can record the sound for when you decide to go big bad Bratva boss on me.”


Fuck, she was infectious. I grabbed her finger lightly and brought it up to my lips, watching as her eyes grew heated as I rubbed my tongue against the pad of her finger. “What if we do what we did last night instead and record that?”


Her lips parted. “Gavril, we aren’t going to get to breakfast on time like this.”


“You’re right. We won’t.” I dropped her hand. “Get dressed, and if we survive breakfast, then I will take you out on the river.”


I wanted some time alone with her, and now that we were in this house, my mother’s ears and eyes seemed to be everywhere.


“Really?” Naomi asked. “Just the two of us?”

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