Deadly Devotion (Avilov Bratva #1)

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Aleksandr

The drive to my estate in Old Westbury is taking longer than anticipated. Maybe it’s because I’ve been arguing with Talia for thirty minutes. This woman can be infuriating, yet I feel very protective of her. And I can’t deny my attraction to her. Somehow, she’s even more beautiful than when I left her in San Francisco. Her voluptuous curves are making my mouth water, and her sweet honeysuckle scent is getting my dick hard. She climbs over the seat and sits in the passenger, her eyes burning holes into the side of my head.

I steal a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s tapping her fingernails on the armrest and her lips are drawn into a tight line. She’s scared and angry, and all I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and protect her from the world. But she is the only one who can identify Mikhail’s killer, making her valuable to me.

“Why did you move to New York?” I ask, hoping to get a more informative answer this time.

Squaring her shoulders, she looks straight ahead at the cars before us. “I already told you I needed a change of scenery,” she replies, pursing her lips.

“There is more to your story than you are telling me.”

“If you say so,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

Blyat! This woman drives me crazy! I don’t know if I want to force her to tell me or shove my cock in her mouth to keep her from saying anything else. “You will tell me why you moved here!” I bellow. “Were you looking for me, hoping I would rescue you from your drab little world and shower you with riches? That’s not going to happen.”

Her face twisted in shock as she sucked in a deep gasp. “How dare you!” she screeched. “I didn’t come looking for you! You knocked on my front door! I don’t want anything from you! Let me out!”

She slammed her palm against the passenger window so hard I thought the glass would crack. She’s feisty, and that’s a huge turn-on.

“Stop this car right now and let me out, you…you… asshole!”

Her face is beet red with anger. I slow down the SUV, steering it to the side of the road. She tries to open the passenger door, but I don’t give her the chance. Grabbing her wrist, I pull her toward me, my lips slamming down on hers. The kiss is full of anger, lust, and desperation. My fingers tangle in her silky brown hair, holding her in place. My tongue explores her mouth, savoring her taste and desperate for more. Her nails dig into my shoulders, but she’s not pushing me away. She’s pulling me closer, forcing my tongue deeper. The chemistry between us explodes. My mind fills with images of her soft, supple body pressed against mine as I drive my hard cock into her tight, wet pussy.

A low whimper escapes her lips, and then she pushes me away. Her lips are red and swollen, and her eyes are wide with shock and desire. “I want to call my sister,” she whispers between heavy breaths. “We have to go back.”

“No, Dimitri will take care of her,” I explain, running my fingers through my hair. We’re going to my estate, where I can protect you. After all, you are the only person who can identify my brother’s killer, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until you do.”

I pull the SUV back onto the road, and that ends the conversation. She spends the rest of the trip absently rubbing the little black bird tattoo on her wrist and looking out of the passenger window.

Before long, I can see the golden glow of my mansion lights against the tranquil black sky. I own many homes worldwide, but this one was my favorite. It was a testament to the wealth and power of the Avilov Bratva, a sanctuary that commanded respect. With the push of a button on the dashboard, the ornate iron gates open to allow us entrance down the long driveway. Rows of perfectly trimmed hedges lined each side, and a grand circular fountain stood at the entrance.

We were greeted by Anton, the head of my security team. “Boss, the grounds are secure,” he states, his voice smooth and composed. Walking around to the passenger side, he offers Talia his hand, helping her out of the SUV. Awe flicks across her face as she watches the cascading water flow from the top of the marble fountain down through the mouths of the lion figures stationed around the base. Her expression changes to hesitation as we ascend the marble stairs to the grand foyer.

“Good evening, Mr. Avilov.” Abram, my house manager, greets us in the foyer. “Christian has retired for the evening, sir. May I warm you up some dinner?” Abram waited while I directed my attention to Talia. Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Her embarrassment was evident when a light pink tinged her cheeks.

“Yes, thank you, Abram. I’m going to show Miss Martin around the mansion. We’ll be in the dining room shortly.” Taking her by the elbow, I escorted her through the grand entrance hall. “You’ll be safe here. I have the best security team, a state-of-the-art alarm system, and cameras throughout the mansion and adjoining grounds.”

“What about Sandy?” she inquired. “Will Dimitri bring her here, too?” Her thumb rubbed small circles again over her wrist tattoo.

“She cannot come here. Dimitri will take her to a hotel and check her in under a false name. He will watch her tonight, and then I will assign another man to watch over her tomorrow.”

“I need to speak with her. I’d like to call her now.”

“Dimitri will call when he has retrieved her.”

“But, if you just let me…”

“That is final.” I cut her off before she could complete the sentence. I don’t allow strangers inside my estate to keep the Bratva business secret, and I don’t want her to tell Sandy where my estate is. To the ordinary person, I am just a successful art gallery owner. To my enemies in the criminal underworld, I am a target they would like to bring down along with the entire Avilov family.

Walking through the mansion, I watch Talia’s gaze wander over the marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and expensive paintings. The grand staircase and ornate arched doorways hint at the elegance and sophistication of the estate design.

Continuing the tour, I point out various rooms until we enter the spacious living room. The elegant décor enchanted her, although she kept her guard up. Wandering over to the grand piano, she admired a painting on the wall above it. “This is beautiful,” she expressed. “You must do very well at your art gallery. Your family must be very proud of you.” Turning to face me, I could see her scrutinizing the luxurious surroundings.

“Yes, as I told you when we met, family is everything. I am in charge of my family, and my art gallery is an important part of our business.” I sit on the velvet sofa, gesturing for her to sit as well. Her knee bounces up and down as she contemplates asking me what she really wants to know.

“What do you want to know, kiska? Go ahead and ask.” Draping my arms across the back of the sofa, I wait for her to ask her questions.

She releases a deep breath and looks me square in the eye. “Are you in the mafia? Is your family a crime family?”

“I am the head of the Avilov Bratva. We are a family, and we are businessmen,” I reply casually. “Occasionally, we have disagreements with other families, which can get messy. Some people call us criminals. It makes no difference to me.”

“Is that why your brother was killed?” she murmured.

“I don’t know why my brother was killed. But you are going to help me find his killer, and when we do, I will know what happened.”

“Are you going to kill the man that shot Mihail?” she asked cautiously. She seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for my answer.

“Yes.” I won’t lie to her. She should know the truth sooner than later.

“Have you ever killed anyone before?” She asked that question carefully, her eyes darting around the room.

“Yes, but you are in no danger here,” I assured her. “You are safe with me.” That was the absolute truth. I would sooner cut off my right hand than harm her.

She searched my face for any hint of dishonesty. Finding none, she visibly relaxed.

“Come, let’s get something to eat.” Holding out my hand, I helped her to her feet.

Ring! Ring! Glancing at my phone, I see it’s Dimitri calling. “Dimitri,” I answer. “What’s happening?”

Talia stiffens at the sound of his name. She is visibly frozen in place, hanging on every word. As soon as I end the conversation, she bombards me with questions.

“Is she okay? Where is she? Can I speak to her? I need to speak to her.”

“Sandy is okay. Dimitri took her to the hotel and will stay with her until tomorrow. Then I will send one of my men to relieve him.”

“I need to speak with her. Please, you don’t understand. I have to speak with her.” Her eyes are boring into me, begging me to understand.

I remember her telling me in San Francisco that Sandy was more of a mother to her than a big sister. They grew up together in a foster home, and Sandy has been looking out for her ever since. That’s my job now. That thought took me entirely by surprise. She’s not my responsibility. She’s just valuable to me because she can identify Mikhail’s killer. I have enough responsibilities and don’t need this woman to become another one.

To get her off my back, I dial Dimitri’s number. “You may speak to her but do not tell her where my estate is. I don’t need your carelessness bringing enemies to my doorstep.”

Nodding in understanding, she eagerly takes the phone. Relief washes over her at the sound of Sandy’s voice. Ending the call, she hands my phone back. “Thank you, Aleksandr,” she says earnestly. “I think I need to lie down. It’s been a hell of a day.” Her face is creased with exhaustion. Cradling her stomach, she leans against the arm of the sofa.

“I will take you to your room and have Abram bring you something to eat.” Leading her up the grand staircase, I guide her to a guest room down the hall from mine.

I watch her reaction as she looks around the grand space, admiring the large four-poster bed, rich velvet curtains, and the chinoiserie floral wallpaper. The sitting area by the windows is adorned with a grand mirror with an intricately carved frame. She points to a painting over the bed and asks, “Who is the artist? It’s beautiful.”

“I am,” I reply.

Surprise paints her face as she spins around to face me. “ You are? I didn’t realize you’re an artist. Was that your painting in the living room?”

“Yes.”

“It’s beautiful. You are very talented. No wonder you own an art gallery.” She looks me over as if I’m a puzzle she’s trying to figure out.

“Thank you. Get some rest. I will see you in the morning.” She grabs my forearm before I can exit the room. Unspoken words hang on her lips. Shaking her head, she releases my arm. “Good night,” she says, smiling softly.

I nod once, closing the door behind me. Pulling a brass key from my pocket, I turn it over and examine it before locking the door and walking away.