Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (17 page)

Alex stared down at his clenched fists. He’d been going over and over this in his own head, so it was good to be able to discuss it with his men. “And what if my father found out about this truce? He lost both his wives and his only daughter. He is not a man who forgives and forgets.”

“Your father,” Oleg said in a low voice, “is an old, old man who wishes for you and Dimitri to have a better life than the one he led. In the not too distant future, you will be the head of the Novikov
Bratva
. Perhaps it is time to start forming alliances for the future. Perhaps it is time for a new era to start. You have already begun with Gedeon. Use this time your father has given you to speak with your friends in Western Europe, and let them discreetly know that you personally hold no grudges against the Boldin
Bratva
and want peace.”

What Oleg was saying amounted to treason, and Alex gave him a sharp look. “What are you suggesting? That I betray my father?”

“No. I suggest you continue what you have been doing, forming alliances, making friends. Do not think I have not seen what you have been up to, carefully building a wall of protection for Jessica. I’ve watched you slowly stalking her and have said nothing, but it is time for you to pull your head out of your ass with this girl. If you want her, take her. She will not remain without a man in her life forever.”

“I can’t risk it, risk her, yet. My father thought he built such a shield—twice—and look what happened.” A hard shudder worked through him at the thought of some sniper’s bullet ending Jessica’s life. “I could not bear it if I caused Jessica’s death.”

“You are not your father,” Maks said as he stared at Alex. “And you would not just be building a shield for your and Dimitri’s future wives, but also for women like Oleg’s wife and my sister. It wasn’t just your mother, stepmother, and half-sister who were lost, but also the wives and daughters of some of your father’s and grandfather’s top men. This slaughter has to stop. We all know it, and it is only those insane old bastards your father has surrounded himself with that feel any different. This feud is weakening us, all of us, Boldin and Novikov alike. Our enemies glory in that fact. But, despite your father’s cruelty, you and your brother have proven yourselves, over and over again, to be fair and honest men. You have friends, powerful friends, who will support you in whatever you choose to do. They owe you, and they are not the kind of people who like to have markers out on them.”

Alex glared at his friends. “What if it was your wife’s life, Oleg? Your girls? Would you be so quick to risk them?”

Oleg crossed his arms. “I’ve known you since you were a boy, Alex, held you at your mother’s funeral, and I want what is best for you and the Novikov
Bratva
. A good woman is essential to a man’s health, to his heart. She keeps him humble, questions him, and gives him the strength to deal with difficult shit. Besides, they are already at risk, just as your Jessica is in danger thanks to her association with Peter.”

Maks stood and studied Alex. “All of this is may be a moot point as far as Jessica is concerned.” He spoke in a quiet voice. “You did not see how deeply he injured her last night. She is not like your usual women, Alex. She cannot take such harsh words without being wounded. Especially from you.”

“She was kissing him right in front of my door,” Alex said through grit teeth as shame and anger tightened his muscles.

“Yes, she was. Why shouldn’t she? You give her no indication you want anything but friendship from her.”

“She slept with me the night before. I tasted her pussy, buried my fingers in her tight, hot cunt. Made her scream my name. She
knows
she belongs to me.”

Both men stared at him before Oleg said, “You had sex with her?”

“No. She was too drunk, but I couldn’t deny her some relief when she begged for it. What she needs I want to give to her, whatever it may be.”

The memory of waking up in the night to find Jessica cuddled up to him sent the sweetest ache through his soul. His contentment had been so complete that every muscle in his body relaxed, and his dreams were good for once. He usually had nightmares about death and torture, things he’d witnessed and heard of, or done himself. That night he’d dreamed of walking with his mother along the lake next to the Summer Palace on his family’s estate. They used to do that when he was young whenever the weather was warm enough, talking about anything and everything. It had been nice to relive those moments in his sleep. Then he woke alone and hoping she was still in his apartment, but he knew she was gone.

When he found out from Dimitri that Jessica had left at the crack of dawn, he was looking forward to seeing her, but he had a delicate situation to handle for Peter as soon as possible. He was going to tell her he wanted her in his bed again that night, to have the unequaled pleasure of smelling her spiced apple scented hair, of her delicate body curved trustingly into his. He was also going to inform her that she belonged to him now, and he wasn’t going to let her go over a kiss with a stupid boy.

Instead, he’d lashed out at her like a jealous fool.

He was done being a fool, and a wise man listened to his advisors so he asked Oleg, “You have more experience with keeping a woman happy. What should I do?”

“Give her some time to lick her wounds. If you approach her right now, she is still too hurt to listen to you. Let her know she is important to you, that you want more than friendship with her. She will try to protect herself from further pain by guarding her heart against you. It is human nature.” Oleg started to head to the door. “You could call your Uncle Petrov for advice. He is very good with how a woman’s mind works and would be more than happy to help.”

Alex couldn’t help but chuckle. Uncle Petrov, his late mother’s older brother, had a strong-willed wife and three stubborn daughters he somehow managed to keep happy. Although it would be helpful to talk to him, Alex wasn’t ready to tip off anyone that he was interested in a woman for something more than companionship and fucking. He trusted his uncle to keep the information to himself, but he also knew Petrov would be curious about Jessica, and he wasn’t ready to bring her to the attention of anyone outside of his immediate circle yet.

Especially when he wasn’t sure he could salvage the situation with Jessica.

He stood then stretched, his head aching with his sudden movement. “We have to take care of the warehouse situation, so the time for gossiping like women is over. It is time to work.”

The pub was super busy with people gearing up for the holiday season and in the mood to celebrate. Laughter rang through the air, and everywhere she looked, people were smiling. Jessica welcomed the distraction of being in constant motion filling all the drink orders. Even her bad mood had lifted somewhat in the boisterous atmosphere. Her smile would be real for a few moments, but every time she thought about Alex yelling at her, a sour ball would form in her stomach, and her smile would vanish.

Oleg stopped by earlier and tried to apologize for Alex, but she refused to listen. She let Oleg know she would continue to be friends with him, but she didn’t want to talk about Alex—at all. She’d managed to avoid the asshole so far, but he kept leaving messages on her phone she didn’t listen to and texts she didn’t read. Heck, even Luka had emailed her asking her to put Alex out of his misery and talk to him, but she ignored Luka as well. Yeah, eventually she’d have to deal with him. Alex wouldn’t just go away, but she needed some time away from him to let her temper cool and her hurt feelings heal…and time to figure out how to deal with this mess.

John had also stopped by the pub, but he treated her differently now, and she knew Alex had ruined whatever she might’ve had with the handsome Irish man. She knew John wasn’t happy to learn that she spent so much time with Alex, and she could tell that he didn’t believe her when she said there was nothing going on with them. Hell, she didn’t even believe herself. The more she thought about it, the more details of her time spent in Alex’s bed came to her. She was now sure they’d fooled around, and that it had been spectacular.

That only made her even more pissed. Of course Alex would be fantastic in bed. He had lots of experience. Hell, three of the six women working tonight had screwed him. Her smile was completely gone by this point, and she couldn’t force herself to pretend, so she quickly cleaned up the bar and made sure everything was topped off. Peter had tried to get her to open up about her foul mood, as had Mary, but she claimed she was just going through a bout of insomnia. Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew something had happened with Alex, but he seemed almost relieved that things had soured between them.

She filled an order for a group of rough looking men over on the far side of the room who were leering at her. She’d never seen them here before, but she kept an eye on their small group. Something about them had set her on alert. There usually wasn’t trouble in the pub—the bouncers nipped that shit in the bud—but the place was filled to capacity. This was also Friday night of a payday weekend, and people were getting shit faced. That meant good tips for her, but it also meant the bouncers were busier than usual removing people when they got too wasted, or calling cabs for those who needed them.

She was nodding at something one of the patrons sitting at the bar had said when she thought she caught sight of Alex across the room, but when she took a closer look, she didn’t see him. That didn’t stop her stupid heart from beating faster as she simultaneously hoped he was and wasn’t here. They needed to talk, but she was afraid of what he would say. To be honest, she was surprised it had taken him this long to approach her. His incessant phone calls and texts made it clear he wasn’t giving up easily. The crowd parted again, and this time, she saw Alex, and he was looking directly at her. He wore his usual black suit with a subdued blue button-down shirt, the color bringing out his gorgeous eyes, which were now narrowed in either anger or determination. Her mouth became dry, and her heart raced as she remembered the skin-tingling sensation of his goatee brushing her face when they kissed.

And, if her memory was true, that man could kiss.

Fuck, he was coming her way.

Before he could get through the crowd, she practically ran to the end of the bar where Tilly, the manager for the night, stood emptying the dishwasher and stacking mugs.

“I have to use the bathroom. Can you cover for me for a minute?”

“Sure. Mind takin’ out a couple bags of garbage while you’re back there? It’s piling up quick tonight ’cause of how busy we are, not that I’m sad about that. Good tips, yeah?”

“Yep.”

She ducked through the back doors, not daring to look and see if Alex noticed that she’d fled. Wiping her sweaty palms against her bar apron, she tried to figure out what to do. The adult, practical part of her mind told her that Alex wouldn’t cause a scene here, and she shouldn’t be running and leaving the other bartenders short staffed. The irrational part of her mind was relieved that she’d managed to put off the eventual confrontation with Alex for at least a few more minutes.

She grabbed a couple bags full of trash and went out one of the backdoors of the pub to the alley behind. As soon as the cold air hit her, it cleared her head, even if it did hold the funk of ancient beer and sour milk. Sodium security lights illuminated the garbage bins and cast deep shadows in the alley as she tossed the bags inside. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she sucked in a harsh breath when she saw two big, intimidating men in dark clothing stalking toward her.

They didn’t say a word, but menace radiated from them, and her lungs burned as she sucked in a harsh breath. Fear-driven adrenaline slammed through her veins, and she stumbled a step back, dropping the garbage bags on the ground. The two men didn’t stop, the lights revealing them to be nondescript but huge and wore dark knit caps pulled down low on their brows. The man on the left had short dark hair, and the man on the right had a deep scar on his chin. All these details skipped through her panicked mind as she tried to figure out what to do.

She turned to the door, only to find she hadn’t left it propped open behind her. It had shut and automatically locked. Now she felt like a complete dumbass, soon to be raped and dead, as she stood here and debated if she should scream or run. Neither option looked very good, and the men closed in on her rapidly. The thought of one of them touching her made her skin crawl. One of them lunged for her, and she tried to dart away but lost her footing. The solid, cold mass of the dumpster hit her butt as she drew in a deep breath to scream. She’d barely gotten a sound out before they were on her.

The one on the left clamped his big hand over her mouth, and she shuddered with revulsion at the bitter taste of his flesh against her mouth. The dark-haired man in the brown corduroy jacket captured one of her wrists and twisted it until it hurt, making her scream all the louder as her bones nearly snapped in a tidal wave of white-hot pain. The lessons she’d learned in a self-defense class fled, leaving her mind oddly spinning, terror filling her along with a strange sense of disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to her. This couldn’t be real. The agony shooting from her wrist disagreed with this thought, and she shook as adrenaline flooded her system.

“Keep yer mouth shut, or I’ll fuckin’ break every bone in yer hand.”

Her knees went weak, but she nodded, and he eased up the pressure on her wrist.

The guy with the scar glanced up and down the alley then pulled out a knife. “Hold her still. We need ’ta leave a present for Peter. I think an ear’ll do it.”

Those harsh words broke her paralysis, and she started to fight them. The man in corduroy jacket grabbed her by the hair, slapped her three times hard enough that her ears rang, and her lip was cut against her teeth. Her panic-dazed thoughts grew disjointed by the force of the blows, and she tried to push away, to get their hands off of her, but they totally ignored her attempts to shove their hands away. They were talking to each other in some lyrical language she didn’t understand, and the man who’d slapped her produced a pair of zip ties.