Embrace of the Russian Tiger (Russian Mafia Kings #2)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

I stared at the reflection in the mirror, adjusting the cufflinks on my shirt, the weight of the meeting ahead pressing down on me. Nikolai. It had been years since we last spoke, and yet, the thought of seeing him again stirred something I couldn’t quite place. Not nostalgia. No, I wasn’t the sentimental type. But there was something unsettling about the timing of this meeting—something that made the back of my neck prickle.

Nikolai had always been a wildcard, even when we were kids. He was charismatic, open, but always with an edge. You could never be too sure what he was really thinking, what he was planning. And now, after all these years, he wanted to meet.

I buttoned the last cuff and glanced at my watch. Mikhail would be arriving soon. He had insisted on joining me for this meeting, and as much as I preferred handling things on my own, I knew better than to refuse his offer. Mikhail had a sharp eye, and his instincts were rarely wrong. If something was off with Nikolai, Mikhail would pick up on it.

I stepped out of my room and made my way downstairs, the familiar tension of the mansion settling around me like a second skin. I had spent years cultivating this life, building my empire from the ground up. There was no room for weakness. Not now. Not ever.

As I reached the foyer, the door swung open, and Mikhail stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was a quiet intensity about him that told me he was already on high alert.

“You’re ready?” he asked, his voice low as he glanced at me.

I nodded, slipping on my jacket. “Let’s get this over with.”

We made our way to the car, the drive to the meeting place passing in tense silence. The city blurred past us, a reminder of everything I had built, everything that was at stake. Nikolai might have been a part of my past, but he had no place in my future. Still, I couldn’t ignore the curiosity gnawing at me.

The car pulled to a stop outside the restaurant, and I stepped out, my eyes scanning the surroundings. It was a quiet place, tucked away from the busy streets. Discreet. The kind of place where deals were made in whispers and alliances were forged—or broken.

Mikhail fell in step beside me as we entered, his eyes sharp as he surveyed the room. Nikolai was already seated at a corner table, a glass of whiskey in front of him. He looked up as we approached, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“Maxim,” he greeted, his voice warm and open, as if we were old friends catching up after years apart. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

I sat down across from him, nodding slightly in acknowledgment. Mikhail remained standing for a moment, his gaze lingering on Nikolai before he finally took a seat beside me.

Nikolai raised his glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Nikolai’s eyes gleamed, but before he could respond, he leaned back, his expression softening. “Maxim… about your sister… about Katya. I know I never called. I am sorry for this. You know how I felt about her. She was like a sister to me, and when this happened, I felt like my whole world shattered. I should have been there for you.”

The mention of my sister’s name hit me like a punch to the gut, but I kept my face emotionless. Of course I remembered that he never called or showed up. How could I forget?

Nikolai continued, his voice quieter now, more nostalgic. “I still remember the last time I saw her. She was wearing that blue dress—her favorite, wasn’t it? And that necklace she always wore, the one with the little heart pendant. She was laughing about something… God, she was full of life.”

A muscle in my jaw twitched, but I remained silent. I didn’t need Nikolai bringing up memories I had long since buried. The loss of Katya had been the turning point for me—the moment I decided that emotions were a weakness I couldn’t afford. But hearing her name now, spoken by someone who had known her, it brought back a wave of pain I wasn’t prepared for.

Nikolai seemed to sense my discomfort, because he leaned forward again, his expression serious. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think that I did not care. I cared too much and could not show up for you. I ran to the West Coast like a coward. Ran away from my pain and left you behind. I am so sorry.”

I clenched my fists under the table, willing myself to stay calm. “I appreciate the sentiment, Nikolai,” I said, my voice steady. “Yes, I remember her necklace. I was the one who gave it to her. I think one of the cops stole it when they were examining her body. But… There is no reason to dig in the past. All is good now. Truly. Katya wouldn’t want this for you or me. So, let’s move forward. You did not owe me a phone call. What is important is that her memory still lives with you and with me. Let’s cherish that. So, what actually brought you here?”

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Always straight to the point, aren’t you? You haven’t changed a bit.”

I didn’t respond, my gaze steady on his. I didn’t have time for games.

Nikolai sighed, leaning forward slightly, his expression turning serious. “Alright, I’ll get to the point then. Word on the street is that things aren’t as stable in your empire as they used to be. People are talking, Maxim. They’re saying you’re becoming… weaker. I came here to help you, for old times’ sake.”

My jaw clenched at his words, but I kept my expression neutral. “Nikolai. Are you not too sure of yourself, my old friend? What exactly did you hear?”

I glanced at Mikhail, who remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. Nikolai was watching me closely, waiting for my reaction, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

“There is a rumor going around that the great Maxim is losing influence with the Italians. One of my man reached out and told me that the Italians are now looking to merge with the Colombians. I can help with…”

“With… what? Your assistance?” I asked, keeping my tone cold.

Nikolai nodded, his smile returning. “Exactly. We have history, Maxim. You know I’ve always had your back. If things are starting to slip, I can help you regain control. We could join forces, make sure no one dares question your strength again. I have plenty of influence on the West Coast, and that can give you leverage.”

I stared at him for a long moment, the wheels in my mind turning. Nikolai was good—too good. He wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something. But what?

“Interesting,” I said slowly, leaning forward slightly. “And what makes you think I need your help?”

Nikolai’s smile widened, but there was something darker behind it now. I took a slow, deliberate breath, keeping my gaze locked on his. “And what would you want in return?”

For a moment, something dark flickered in Nikolai’s eyes, but he quickly masked it with a smile. “I figured you’d ask. I want a partnership. We go in 50/50. I will watch your back, and you will watch mine.”

“Nikolai, I appreciate our past friendship. I really do. I have nothing but fond memories. If you need help, you can always reach out to me. But I do not need your help. I say we have dinner now and have a few shots. But we won’t talk business. Are we clear?”

Nikolai’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but he recovered quickly, setting the glass down. “I see. Yes, Maxim.” His expression was unreadable as he regarded me carefully.

Nikolai chuckled softly, standing up and extending his hand. “You haven’t changed, Maxim. Not one bit.”

“Neither have you. Na zdorovie ” I raised a shot of vodka, cheering to Nikolai’s health. To be honest, I could care less about his health or anyone else’s. But this was the game.

As the evening was ending and a bottle of vodka was chugged by Nikolai, he then said: “You know, Maxim, you will always be the Tiger. The Russian Tiger. Even as a teenager you were so different, and look at you now. I miss Katya every day. If she was alive, things would have been different.” His expression was angry.

Nikolai then got up and left , his bulky figure disappearing into the shadows outside the restaurant. The moment he was gone, I let out a slow breath, the tension in my chest loosening slightly.

Mikhail was silent beside me, his eyes still narrowed in thought.

“Something’s off,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I nodded. “I know. Find out what you can about the rumors he mentioned. I want to know who’s been talking.”

Mikhail glanced at me, his expression hard. “You think he’s planning something?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But I’m not taking any chances. Nikolai always played the “I am stupid” game, and as you can see, he is very much alive and thriving. I want to know everything about him. What he eats. What he drinks. Who he fucks and how. Everything. Do you understand?”

As I left the restaurant and made my way back to the car, my thoughts drifted back to Katya. I had spent years burying the pain, but Nikolai’s words had stirred it back up again. On the other hand, it was the anger that kept me going every day.

The car ride back to the mansion was tense, my mind still swirling with the conversation I had with Nikolai. I stared out the window, my thoughts turning over every detail, every word. Weaker. Those words echoed in my mind, stoking a fire deep inside me. Nikolai’s offer wasn’t about friendship—it was about power.

And he thought he could make a move on me, use our past to get under my skin. But he didn’t know me anymore. What a moron.

As the car pulled into the driveway, I stepped out, my focus already shifting. I had other things to think about now. The meeting had left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on it. Not when there were bigger threats lurking in the shadows.

And then there was her. Anna. As I walked through the house, I found myself heading toward the garden, the tension from the meeting with Nikolai still coiled tight in my chest. I needed a moment to think, to clear my head. But as I turned the corner, I stopped in my tracks.

Anna was standing near one of the large windows that overlooked the garden, the soft light of the setting sun casting a warm glow around her. She was staring out, lost in thought, her posture relaxed yet somehow filled with a quiet tension.

My breath caught in my throat.

She was beautiful. Maybe it was the vodka talking in me, but her beauty wasn’t just physical; it was in the way she carried herself, in the strength she didn’t even realize she had.

For a moment, I considered telling her everything. The truth about who she was, why I had kept it from her. Rossi’s daughter. If she knew, maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d see that all of this—the control, the secrecy—was for her protection. But the truth was dangerous. And if she knew too much, the people after her would use that knowledge to destroy her. To be honest, in the beginning it was all about power and control for me; now it’s about protection.

If they found out who she was, they wouldn’t keep her alive. They’d force her to sign away everything—her assets, her legacy—and then they’d execute her. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to keep her close, had to keep her safe, even if it meant keeping her in the dark.

I stepped forward, my footsteps soft as I approached her. She didn’t notice me at first, too lost in her thoughts. When I was close enough, I reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

She turned, startled at first, but when she saw me, her expression softened. “Maxim,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I just stood there, staring at her, my hand still resting on her shoulder. The warmth of her skin beneath my fingers sent a shiver through me, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

“You look… beautiful,” I said, my voice low, almost rough. It wasn’t something I said often, and it felt foreign on my tongue, but it was the truth. She was breathtaking.

Anna blushed, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink as she looked away, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured, clearly caught off guard by my words.

I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. The air between us felt charged, thick with unspoken things. I could see the questions in her eyes, the confusion, the curiosity. She wanted answers, but I couldn’t give them to her. Not yet.

Her brows furrowed, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her by gently cupping her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek. “This world… it’s dangerous, Anna. Do not step away from this house. Do you understand? Do not. This is an order.”

Her piercing gaze searched my eyes, as if trying to read the truth behind my every word. I could see the frustration in her, the need for answers burning inside her, but I also saw something else—something softer, something that mirrored the pull I felt towards her.

“I am not your prisoner,” she said through clenched teeth, her voice dripping with resentment and defiance.

But I shook my head, a dangerous smile playing on my lips as I replied, “No. You are not. You are mine.”

She frowned, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she stepped closer, her hand resting on my chest as if daring me to push her away. But her touch sent sparks through my entire body, igniting a fire within me that I couldn’t control. "And who's going to protect me from you?" she asked with a hint of fear in her voice that only fueled my desire.

For a moment, I couldn’t answer. My mind was consumed by the truth that she needed protection from me just as much as she needed it from the outside world. I had taken control of her life, manipulated her to keep her close, but now... now, I was losing control in a different way.

Without hesitation, I leaned down, and our lips met in a soft and tentative kiss. In that moment, all the tension and anger between us melted away into nothingness. It was just her—just us.

Our kiss deepened with each passing second, becoming more urgent and demanding as we both gave into the overwhelming desire between us. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, pulling her flush against me as our bodies responded to each other in ways that neither of us could control. Her fingers tangled in my hair, and I groaned softly before finally breaking the kiss.

I wanted her. I needed her. And for once, I didn't care about control, or power, or anything else. All I wanted was to lose myself in her.

Without breaking our intense gaze, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her towards the bedroom. She didn't protest, she didn't try to pull away. Instead, she pressed closer, her lips still locked with mine as if we were made for this—made for each other.

As I carried her to the bedroom, my hands shook with a raw, primal need that had been simmering beneath the surface for what felt like forever. Each step was deliberate, slow, my lips trailing fire over her exposed skin, igniting a desperate hunger in both of us. She whimpered softly, her hands gripping my shoulders as if holding on for dear life. I felt her pulse quicken beneath my lips, her body arching into me with every touch. She was already mine—completely—and yet, I wanted more. I needed more.

When I laid her down on the bed, she looked up at me with pleading eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her skin flushed and warm beneath the dim glow of the room. She didn’t need to say anything. The way her body trembled beneath me was all the encouragement I needed.

My fingers traced up the inside of her legs, teasing her, drawing out soft gasps as her hips lifted toward me. Every inch of her skin seemed to burn under my touch, and the soft, desperate sounds that escaped her lips only drove me further. I wanted to devour her, to make her forget everything but this moment, this feeling, me.

As I trailed my mouth down her body, savoring the taste of her skin, her breath hitched, and her fingers tangled in the sheets. I could feel the anticipation radiating off her, the need building with every kiss, every touch.

"Maxim," she moaned, her voice thick with desire, a breathless plea that nearly undid me.

I paused, meeting her gaze, and there was something almost vulnerable in the way she looked at me—her eyes wide, dark, filled with want. I reached for the toy I’d placed beside the bed earlier, watching her eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and excitement as I held it up. Her lips parted, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her body already reacting to what was coming.

The soft hum of the toy filled the room as I pressed it against her. Her reaction was immediate—her back arched off the bed, her breath coming in sharp gasps as pleasure flooded through her. She writhed beneath me, her hands clutching the sheets, her legs trembling as the intensity of it overwhelmed her. But I wasn’t finished. Not even close.

With a wicked smile, I leaned down, my mouth joining the toy as I devoured her, my tongue teasing and tasting her while the vibrations drove her higher. Her moans turned into soft cries, her body shuddering under my relentless touch. I could feel her getting closer, her breathing becoming erratic, her hips bucking against me as she tried to hold on.

But I didn’t want her to hold on. I wanted her to fall apart.

"Maxim, please," she gasped, her voice trembling as she hovered on the edge of release.

I smirked against her, my tongue circling her swollen, sensitive flesh while the toy buzzed in perfect harmony with every flick of my tongue. Her entire body was trembling, her muscles tightening as I pushed her further, deeper, until she finally shattered.

Her scream filled the room, a desperate, primal sound as her release washed over her, leaving her breathless and shaking beneath me. But I didn’t stop. I kept going, pushing her through the aftershocks, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until her whimpers turned into soft, broken moans.

“Please,” she begged again, her body limp, spent, as her chest heaved with the remnants of her orgasm.

I finally pulled back, satisfied for now, though the hunger still burned deep inside me. She was a trembling mess, her body still quaking with the intensity of what had just happened, but I wasn’t finished with her. Not yet.

I gathered her in my arms, pulling her close to me as I kissed her, hard and demanding. Her lips were soft and swollen, her breath still ragged as I claimed her mouth, my hands moving to pull her closer. Her body melted against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from her, feel the way she responded to me even now, even after I had brought her to the brink.

I stood, lifting her effortlessly as I carried her to the bed’s edge where a circular stand with cuffs awaited. Her eyes widened as she glanced at the cuffs, and I saw the flicker of anticipation mixed with apprehension.

“You trust me?” I asked, my voice low, a rough edge to it.

She swallowed hard, her breath shaky, but she nodded. The tremble in her body wasn’t fear—it was excitement. She was giving herself to me completely.

I cuffed her wrists to the standing circle, her body stretched before me like the most perfect offering, her arms raised above her head as her legs spread beneath me. She was mine to take, to own, and the sight of her, bound and vulnerable, sent a surge of heat through me that made my pulse thunder in my ears.

“Maxim...” she whispered, her voice pleading, her eyes wide and filled with need.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I kissed her again, hard, bruising, letting her feel the depth of my desire, the intensity of what I wanted from her. My hands slid down her body, teasing her once more, making her tremble beneath me. I could feel the wetness between her legs, feel the way her body responded to every touch, every kiss.

And then, without warning, I thrust into her.

She cried out, her back arching off the bed as I filled her completely, her body tightening around me as I set a punishing rhythm. I gripped her hips, holding her still as I drove into her with brutal intensity, my body demanding everything she had to give.

Her moans were breathless, desperate, her head thrown back as I claimed her over and over again. Her body trembled, her legs shaking as I pushed her closer to the edge once more. I could feel her getting closer, feel the tension building in her body as she fought to hold on.

But she wouldn’t hold on for long. I wouldn’t let her.

“You’re mine,” I growled, my voice rough as I thrust harder, my hand sliding down between us to press against her swollen flesh. She gasped, her body jerking as I pushed her closer, deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

“Maxim, please...” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she teetered on the edge.

“Come for me,” I demanded, my voice harsh, commanding. “Now.”

And she did.

Her body convulsed around me, her muscles tightening as the orgasm ripped through her, her cries echoing in the room as she came, hard and fast. I watched her fall apart, watched the way her body shuddered beneath me, and the sight of her, completely undone in my arms, sent me over the edge too.

With a final thrust, I found my own release, my body tensing as I spilled into her, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I collapsed against her, spent.

For a long moment, we lay there, our bodies tangled together, our breaths heavy in the aftermath. She was still trembling, her skin flushed, her eyes half-closed as she struggled to come down from the high. I unbuckled the cuffs, freeing her wrists, and gathered her in my arms, pulling her close as I held her against me.

Her breath was still shaky, her body pliant in my arms as she rested her head against my chest. The room was silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the weight of what had just happened settling over both of us.

I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. We both knew that in this moment, nothing else mattered but the way we fit together, the way our bodies had moved in perfect harmony. And as I held her close, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against mine, I knew that I would never get enough of this. Enough of her.