Page 19

She’s lying on my chest right now, I mean, fully sprawled out on top of me. She has one of my shirts on, which completely engulfs her body.

Her body, which has filled out in the time I was away. Her hips are fuller, giving the perfect place to hold her when I fuck her. Her breasts now perfectly fit in my hands when I cup them, the skin so soft and squeezable. Her thighs no longer have a gap between them, making them look suffocating. I would love to be the breath they steal away.

God, her whole body is just so perfect, there’s not one thing I would want to change, but that was my reaction to her being malnourished as well. She is perfect no matter how she looks, and I hope that I can make her see that.

I look at her face, smooshed against my chest with her pouty lips puffing out more. Her blonde hair fans all over her back, my shoulders, and the rest of it on the bed. She looks like Rapunzel with her hair. It’s so long, at least seven inches of the ends are dead. It makes me question when the last time she had a haircut was.

Seeing how much progress she’s made in the three weeks of my absence with her weight and talking makes me wish I was the reason for her progress. But Mama said she’s done really well with realizing she doesn’t have to live in fight or flight mode. She opens up to Mama, but I know she’s not comfortable talking to me yet.

Mama said give it time, and she’ll come around. Who knew she’d have me, the leader of the Russian Mafia, swooning over her in what feels like no time at all.

As much as I wanted to come home from Russia for three fucking weeks, I couldn’t. I was meeting with Adrian Diaz, the leader of the Mexican Mafia, when he started a fucking war.

This was supposed to be just him paying me back my money that he stole, but he ended up walking into the building, gun blazing.

I lean against the long conference table behind me, one foot crossed over the other, watching the door in front of me. Viktor and Damien converse quietly behind me. A sharp bang has them shutting up and all of us reaching for our guns.

I look back at them, and Viktor nods. I inch my way to the door, keeping my feet light and my finger resting on the trigger. More sharp bangs pierce the air, some hitting the walls next to us.

I creak the door open, clearing that right in front of us before I hand signal to the two behind me that we’re moving. I inch my way out of the door and peek around a corner of the office, leading to the main entrance. A man stands in the lobby, his back facing us. I shoot him in the back of the head, and his blood sprays as his body slumps to the floor.

At that sound, two more men emerge from the right and spot us right away. Their guns rise, and I whip my head behind the wall, looking over to Viktor and Damien, signaling with my eyes and slight tilt of my head to get ready. Bullets hit the space on the wall next to me, and I duck down more.

Taking a deep breath, I whip around the corner and shoot both of them in the middle of their chests. One of them presses the trigger before my bullet hits him, and it hits my chest. I’m knocked back, falling to the floor. Viktor is pulling me behind the wall before I even fully hit the ground, ripping my shirt apart.

My bulletproof vest has a small dent in the middle of it. Despite the vest stopping the bullet, I still feel the heavy pressure in my chest, the pain from getting the wind knocked out of me. I claw at my chest, pulling in long breaths, trying to get it under control.

“Go get that fucking bastard,” I growl in between breaths. The boys bolt out of the building on the hunt for Adrian.

He was gone.

I’ve done plenty of research on Adrian. For months, he was under a microscope as we dug up absolutely everything on him. We found out the day before the meeting that he had a son twenty-six years ago. The son, his name unknown, went missing when he was four years old. And I call bullshit.

Adrian is like my father. Someone ashamed of their kids. The son is in hiding, being trained every day in God knows what. My gut tells me Adrian knew a war would come with his idiocy. He’ll come out of the shadows when Adrian dies, and we’ll be ready for him.

I’m going to lure him into a trap, make him think we don’t know about him and who he is, try to become buddy-buddy, and then kill the motherfucker the absolute second we can. But not before we torture him a little bit, make him learn his lesson to leave the bigger people alone. I kill your father, and then you think you can kill me? Yeah, okay then. Bring that shit.

My mind travels back to another pain in my ass that plagues my mind. Harold’s time to get me the rest of the payment is running out. And my anger is continuing to grow as I think about the torture he put his daughter through. He never fucking told me he had a daughter, even when I asked if he had any kids.

He worked with us for how long? Not one slip-up or mention of a child, let alone a gorgeous daughter. I know he’s the root of her problems. Mama said so. Penelope’s behavior said so. I want nothing more than to kill that man slowly and painfully.

I need to wait for her to tell me on her own. For her to trust me on her own will. Maybe she has a darkness in her and wants to kill him herself. I’d let her.

There’s honestly nothing I wouldn’t let her do. She could kill me if she wanted.

What the fuck? Why the fuck would I think that? She makes me fucking crazy. I want to do everything with her one second, then the next second, I want to put up all my walls and keep my heart intact.

She just has that buzz. Like an energy field that surrounds her. You get in her presence, and your mind is immediately at peace. Everything feels calm around her. Her soft skin and buttery hair just make me want to melt into her and never leave. For some reason, she just feels like home.

Her stirring on my chest pulls me out of my thoughts. Her moss eyes open and stare into mine, sleep written all over her face. “Go back to sleep, Moss. It’s only around four in the morning,” I whisper, bringing my hand up to play with her hair. Threading my fingers through it, brushing the small tangles out. She sighs, moving to get off my chest, but I growl and wrap my arms around her. She whimpers, so I reluctantly let her go. She climbs off the bed and beelines for the bathroom.

I’m giving myself one day to spend all my time with her. Then I will disappear, live in Russia, and work from there with Viktor controlling the states. For a few months at a minimum, and if the Mexicans want to fight more, then I have no idea how long I’ll be away. She must stay here, it is the only way for me to protect her fully. I own this place under my name, so nobody knows who really lives here.

I can’t let her get hurt in this mess. This is my mess, she’s already been through enough. Me being in Russia will keep Adrian’s eyes off of New York. Off of Penelope. Maybe some space will be good as well. Maybe this attraction I have to her is just pure lust. I just need some fucking space to figure out what the fuck is going on with me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the bathroom light flick off. Turning my head, with the city lights making the room glow, I see her shuffle over to the edge of the bed, climbing in and keeping distance between us. Fuck no on that.

“I don’t know why you’re all the fuckin’ way over there,” I gruff out, hooking my arm on her side and pulling her to me, almost all the way on me again. She doesn’t protest as she snuggles into my chest, it taking no time before her breathing evens out and she starts softly snoring, the noise breaking the silence of the night. I got up after two hours of her sleeping again, almost killing myself when I moved her warm, soft body off mine.