He barks a laugh as his lips journey up my spine. “I’m taking this tight little hole, too,” he says, nudging the head of his cock against the butt plug.
“It’s yours, baby. Whenever you want it.” A moan rolls off my tongue as he pushes inside, spreading me open, the sensation deliciously painful. “I’m yours.” “Always mine. Moya krasavitsa.”
CHAPTER 22
MIKHAIL
Wet gravel crunches beneath the tires as we roll into a warehouse parking lot. The building is one of three locations frequently used by my men for shipments. It operates on a port under the guise of a spring factory.
The routine is ingrained in us: arrive early, park with an easy escape route, watch our six, wait, and wait some more. But today’s drop feels...off. A different type of energy permeates the air, heightening our anticipation.
I slide a gaze to Leah, who’s staring at my phone screen and flipping it every few breaths. She doesn’t seem nervous, but it’s obvious her mind is elsewhere. In this business, we need to check all of life’s issues at the door and be on alert and prepared for the unexpected. While this faction is known to me and my family, with countless transactions in the past, I’ll never let my guard down. And today rings true more than ever when my whole heart is sitting beside me, counting on me for a seamless drop so that we’re able to move on and face whatever lies ahead.
“Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” I reassure her, taking her hand in mine.
She nods, eyes back on my phone.
“Should be a quick exchange if you want to stay in the car—”
Leah snaps her head in my direction. “Don’t do that, Mikhail. Not you.”
Reaching across the middle console, I stroke her cheek. “Moya lyubov’, it’s not what you’re thinking. I know you have a lot on your mind.”
“And I bet you have just the same on yours. I’m here for a reason, and I’ve done this before, Mikhail.”
“I have enemies.”
She narrows her brown eyes. “Liar.”
“That’s not a lie.”
“No, you lied about your reason for asking me to hang back. Bringing up your enemies solidifies that.”
“I love you, and I’m always going to worry about you, whether you’re here or at a goddamn grocery store. My family has enemies, just as sure as yours. You’re everything, pretty girl. You have no idea how many sacks of shit would love to exploit Emilio’s little gem.”
She opens her mouth in protest, but I shush her with a kiss. “Turned Mikhail Petrov’s wife.” A broad smile lights up her beautiful face.
“Did you marry me while I was sleeping too?”
I laugh and tug her toward me by her nape. “Don’t give me ideas. We can always fly back to Vegas and be married by dinner.”
“As tempting as that sounds, wouldn’t it be crazy for you to head to your father’s reunion a married man? He’ll be wondering where the hell your new wife is.”
“What do you mean? You’ll be by my side, second to my father and his wife at the head of the table. Like a queen, exactly where you belong.”
It’s her turn to look confused. “Mikhail, I can’t just...” Her expression sours. “What if they don’t...”
I tip her chin, forcing our eyes to meet. “If they don’t, what, like you? Accept you?” She nods. “Leah, they’ll accept you on principle because you’re mine, and I love you.”
“Mikhail, I’m not like Celeste.”
“No, the fuck you’re not, because she was the biggest mistake of my life. I hurt you, and I lost you when I should have fought for you. You’re the woman I want to wake up to until the day I die.” I push a loose strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her forehead. “And I can’t wait to make babies with you.”
Leah’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You know, you’re pretty sappy for a mafia boss,” she jokes, fisting my collar and pulling me to her lips.
“I’m going to dress you up like a fuck doll for Halloween, then stuff every hole like a goddamn turkey and make you my horny little Christmas tree every year.”
She laughs and squeezes my face, peppering kisses on my face. “That’s better.”
The blissful moment comes crashing down when my phone chimes, signaling their arrival. “You know the drill if things go south.”
A flash of defiance crosses her features, and she hesitates but eventually nods. It’s for show since we know neither one of us is capable of leaving the other behind, even if given the chance. My men unload the inventory onto trolleys and take the lead as we head toward a side entrance. Leah and I keep a sizable distance between us as a precautionary measure to avoid exploiting weaknesses. With a quick wink, she crosses the threshold of the building, and I offer a reassuring nod before stealing a sweeping glance behind me as I follow her inside.
The long corridor is equipped with surveillance at every angle, the feed funneling through to my home and a cloud server accessible by my father. Apart from the low thrum of a ventilation system and the clicks of Leah’s boots, the building is quiet. Nothing different from previous transactions, but the sense of heightened awareness and slight paranoia has me on higher alert than usual.
My men glance back, seeking my approval, before pushing open the double doors at the end of the hall. Giving them the okay, I hustle forward, my arm on Leah’s as I take her place. She falls back without protest.
“In and out, my love,” I whisper. “Tomorrow, we’ll be in Chicago. Together.”
The hint of a smile moves across her face until she peers past me, and it’s replaced by hard lines and all business. Taking her cue, I follow suit.
Issac Bianchi, underboss for the local Italian faction, has been in business with my family for a number of years. It’s rare for him to attend a simple exchange such as this one, let alone flanked by five men too many. Blood rushes past my ears as I mentally begin to calculate a plan of attack. The building is outfitted with safe rooms, trapdoors, and tunnels for instances of betrayal or a raid.
“Mikhail Petrov,” he says, lighting a cigar. “Glad to see you finally made it.” His eyes flicker to Leah and narrow. “Rodrigo sent in one hell of a replacement.”
“Inventory is all there, plus the extra you requested.”
