Relentless Sinner

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Gabriella

He’s back.

I heard Jaxon’s car pull in over an hour ago.

It’s almost nightfall and I’ve been in the hall with the seamstress for hours completing the finishing touches to my wedding dress.

I was already in a state of angst before the she came by. Now that Jaxon is home I feel like I’m going to implode. All I’ve done for the last three days is think about him and this plan of mine to escape.

My mission this evening is to get the plan moving by speaking to Jaxon about returning to my voluntary job at the hospital.

I’ve been worrying about how I’d broach the subject with him.

It should be simple. It could be simple but there’s also the matter of what happened when we last saw each other that I have to consider.

Everything I did with him and what he did to me has been riding my mind and plaguing my thoughts like a treatment-resistant virus.

I’m nervous about how I’ll be when I see him. Worst of all is my embarrassment over the things I’ve been doing to myself at night when I’m alone in his bed.

A madness seems to come over me, and I touch myself. Yes, me —the same level-headed girl who should know better than to lust after the mafia boss who was contracted to be my husband.

I’m worried about myself.

I think being here in this twisted situation has made me go crazy and want a man I would never normally want.

And God, when is this woman going to finish?

I didn’t know the appointment was going to take so long. It might have gone way faster if the seamstress hadn’t been talking so much about all the luxury weddings she’ll be catering for this fall.

“Your dress is so gorgeous but I do wish you’d chosen the lace body we spoke about, like the Hemingway dress I’m making for the wedding in the Hamptons.”

There she goes again.

“I like the satin,” I reply, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I hate that she’s criticizing the one thing I chose.

“Yes, dear. I’m just saying the lace would have looked glorious on you.” She launches into something else but I tune her out, hoping she’ll be done soon.

I hate waiting for anything but I’m more impatient than usual because I’ve been waiting to speak to Jaxon for way too long. Longer than the three days he’s been away.

Cora came to see me earlier and we mulled over some ideas. She has some people in mind who may be able to help me but she hasn’t approached them yet. She won’t do it until I’m able to get back to the hospital, so that part is key.

We couldn’t brainstorm as much as I wanted to because the guards came around. They seemed to be doing their standard rotation but I’ve been so paranoid that I was worried they heard us.

“I’m all done,” the seamstress announces with a joyous clap of her hands.

Thank God.

“Come and have a look.” She takes my arm and ushers me over to the full-length mirror.

I stare at my reflection. I don’t know what I expected to feel when I saw myself but it wasn't this warmth swelling within my heart.

The dress is absolutely beautiful. It clings to my body as if it were made for me.

The satin sleeveless bodice is stitched with intricate beading that catches the dim light.

Soft tulle flows down the length of my body and I marvel at the fact that I actually look like a bride. Like the perfect bride for a man I barely know.

“What do you think?” she asks in that excited tone.

The question is a good one because I’m not sure what to think. If I’m being hopeful, I’ll never wear this dress. But if I do then only God knows what will happen on that day. I’ll see my father again and I’m sure he’s not going to like that I don’t want him to walk me down the aisle. That, however, will be the least of my worries.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, realizing that I need to give an answer. I do love the dress and I love the ring, too. I just wish circumstances were different. “Thank you so much.”

“Wonderful. Looks like my job here is done. I’ll complete the final adjustments and have it ready before the weekend. I’ll also send over your dress for the engagement party by tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.” Damn it, there’s so much going on, so much it puts me on edge. The engagement party is tomorrow night. It’s come around way too quickly. I’m not ready for anything.

“Go on and change. Your legs must be tired.”

I give her a kind smile then rush toward the makeshift cubicle in the corner. I’ve never changed clothes so fast in my life. Within a blink I’m back in my summer dress and out the door, heading to Jaxon’s office. I’ve never been inside but Eve told me Jaxon spends most of his time there when he’s home.

I assume he’s had time to get caught up with her and his men. There was a guard—Andrieu—who seemed to watch me more than the others.

I bet he gave Jaxon the full run-down on me but there shouldn’t be anything to tell.

I was on my utmost best behavior and even accessed my knowledge from watching shows and movies like Prison Break and Shawshank Redemption to act like the good little prisoner .

The key was to act normal. Jaxon already knows I don’t want to be here, so I didn’t give him anything more to suspect than he already did.

I spot Eve in the hallway on my way up. On seeing me she smiles.

“Hey, Gabriella, I hope you’re hungry. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. I’m making a roast.”

“That sounds great. And yes, I’m hungry.” I smile back at her. “Do you know if Jaxon is in his office?”

“He’s out by the pool.”

The pool. What is it about this man and water?

“Thanks. I’m gonna see him.”

“I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

“Okay.”

With nerves buzzing all over my body I head out to the pool expecting to find Jaxon inside it, swimming. But he’s not there. He’s in the hot tub adjacent to the pool, smoking a cigar.

He notices me the moment I see him and I can’t help it—I stop midstride, unable to move just from the sheer sight of him.

He sits there half submerged with his taut muscles on show and his hair, dark and damp, falling in long waves around his broad shoulders.

Steam and smoke curl in wispy tendrils above the water, rising around the sharp angles of his face, intensifying his gaze.

Jaxon tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifts into a lazy smirk, and I realize he was waiting for me.

Remembering my plan, I push aside my nerves and resume my pursuit toward him. I stop by the edge of the hot tub where the blue mosaic tiles run into wide steps that lead out to the garden.

Jaxon doesn't say a word. All he does is watch me. And smoke.

Everything about him, from the arch of his fingers along the cigar to the shadow in his gaze, demands attention and surrender to his will.

“Hi.” I speak first because he’s just looking at me.

“Missed me?” He gives me that dominant look from the other night. The one he used as he slid his fingers in and out of my pussy, stroking me to submission.

“It was quiet without you.” I try to keep my thoughts balanced so I’m not thrown by his comment. “Did you have a good trip?”

“I missed you .” The lazy grin on his sensual lips grows, looking sexier on him. His words and his smile ignite the heat already in my core and I have to swallow past the lump building in my throat.

“That’s nice to hear. I was hoping we could talk.”

“Thought we were already talking, Krasota.” He takes a long puff from his cigar, inhaling the rich smoke then allowing it to waft around him in a haze.

“I wanted to talk about me leaving the property. You said we could when you got back.”

“I did say that.”

“So, can we talk? I would quite like to get back to my volunteering job at the hospital.” There. I said it. And with a straight face that shouldn’t alert him to anything suspicious.

“Voluntary work?”

“Yes. On the brain injury unit. That’s where I want to work when I’m qualified. Working around people with those types of injuries helps. It’s only for two days a week. I’d like to stop by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is too short notice. The engagement party is tomorrow night.”

“Does that really matter? You’re doing stuff during the day so that would be the same thing.”

“I like to have time to think.”

“You’ve had all of last week and the weekend to think. The fact that I’m still here should be a sign of good faith.”

When he laughs I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

“There’s nothing funny about this,” I scoff.

“I know. I just find it amusing that you think sticking around is a sign of good faith. That’s not how this works.”

Why does he sound like he’s going to screw me over? I can’t let him do that. “How does it work?”

The corners of his lips slide into a wicked grin. It’s maddening and almost psychotic. “However I want it to work.”

Great. He’s playing with my mind again and I have to try not to lose my cool so I can figure out what he wants. “How do you want it to work?”

With his piercing eyes fixed on me he brings the cigar to his lips and pulls in another cloud of smoke. “This is what I want. I want you to join me in here, then we can talk. I want to have a real conversation with you where I get to know you and you get to know me. After that I’ll decide if you’ll be heading out tomorrow to the hospital.”

Asshole. This is obviously a trick. Something to get me to fall into that trap again where I can’t think straight when I’m around him.

But can I say no? Saying no would mean delaying my plans.

Play the game, Gabriella. Play the freaking game.

Getting out of here should be the only thing on my mind, so joining him in the hot tub is nothing.

“I need to get my swimsuit.”

“No. Take your dress off and get in here with whatever you’re wearing underneath.”

I bite my tongue, swallowing the words on the tip that were about to call him an unreasonable asshole.

Tamping down my annoyance, I step back and shrug out of my dress, leaving me in just my blue lace bra and matching panties.

Jaxon watches me with the keen eyes of a hawk, slowly appraising my body. I hate that I can admit I’ve never had a man look at me the way he does.

As if he wants to devour me yet protect me. It’s a weird combo but that’s what I read in his eyes.

I slip off my shoes then take the steps up and climb down into the hot tub.

I sit across from him and rest my back against the wall. The warm water and subtle spray of bubbles feel good on my skin, lulling the tension in my muscles to relax. I could—easily—if Jaxon weren’t in here with me.

He smiles at me and puts the cigar out in the ashtray he’s placed on the edge near him. “So, let’s talk.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Why do you want to be a doctor?”

“My mother was a doctor. I watched her save someone’s life once and I decided I wanted to be like her.”

He looks intrigued. “What did she do?”

“She did CPR on an old man who collapsed in the park. He had a heart attack.”

I remember the day so well it could have been yesterday. Mom and I were on one of our walks, talking about the books and movies we liked. The man was with his wife. She was screaming for help and crying because she thought she had lost him. When my mother saw what happened she just jumped into action and saved the man’s life.

“That’s commendable.”

“My mother was a brain surgeon. I guess I just wanted to follow in her footsteps."

"Did she go to NYU as well?”

“Yeah.”

“You seem to want to do a lot of things your mother did.” He studies my face and hits me with a curious stare.

“She provided the roadmap and I followed. She is my inspiration.”

“I get that but what about you? Surely you don’t want to do every single thing your mother did. Is there anything different you want to do? Something she never did?”

“Yes. I guess my plan would have been to stay in New York for the majority of my studies but do a placement in Europe. Maybe live there for a while. But unfortunately, under my father’s rule, I had to take what I could get.” I can’t believe I just said that but it’s out of my head now.

“Where? Where would you have gone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe somewhere like England.”

“You’d like England if you’ve read Wuthering Heights as much as you have.” He sounds like he has an appreciation for the country. I remember him saying he went to college there.

“I kind of wanted to go because of that. I guess it doesn’t really matter now.”

“Why?”

“Things change. As it stands now I have no hope of going to med school anywhere. My father pulled the plug on my finances and funding. And now… I’m here with you.” That is the reality, no matter what plans I have in mind.

“I didn’t know your father did that.”

I narrow my eyes at him, finding it strange he didn’t know. “That’s my father for you.”

“Well, I’m the executor of your finances and funding now.”

I give him a sarcastic smile. “I’m sure that doesn’t mean you’re going to let me go to med school anywhere in this world. You won’t even allow me to go do a simple voluntary job.”

He smirks. “Did I say I would stop you from doing either?”

I stare back at him and for a moment I wonder if he’d seriously let me go to med school. “Would you really let me go?”

“Like I said before, whatever you want depends on your compliance, Krasota.”

“ Compliance . ” Translation: do what I’m told. But even then I still may not get what I want. Men like him keep you under their thumb for as long as they want you there. They don’t care how you feel about what they’re doing. Or how it affects you in the meantime.

“Compliance. It’s simple.”

I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s depressing because he’s toying with me. He can take his compliance and shove it up his ass. No matter how many hoops I have to jump through to comply with all his bullshit, leaving him is still better.

“What about you?” I ask, steering the conversation away from me.

“What about me?”

“What was going to college in England like?”

“The best.”

“Which college did you attend?”

“Oxford.” That pride returns to his eyes and I can tell his college years were meaningful to him.

“Did you really go there because you wanted to get away from your father?” I remember him saying something along those lines, too.

“At first. I would have gone to the moon if I could. My father isn’t that different from yours. Possibly worse, because of his power.”

I got the impression his father was like mine that day when we first talked about my father. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to pry. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. My father stopped having power over me when he realized that I was an asset to him that he couldn’t replace.”

“I guess going to Oxford wasn’t so bad then.”

“Not at all. Even though I went with the intention of getting away, I realized very quickly I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I stayed there for the entire three-year program and returned to the States to do my master’s at MIT.”

“MIT?” The more I know about him, the more I realize how intelligent he is. Like above board intelligent. I don’t know anyone who went to both Oxford and MIT.

“Yes.”

“What kind of work do you do? I still don’t know.” I looked up Bortsov Tech and didn’t find it surprising that they manufacture weapons. I thought it suited Jaxon to a T.

“I’m a weapons engineer.”

“So you design weapons?”

“Yes, and various other technologies.”

“Like what?”

“Parts and engines for planes and space shuttles.”

My mouth drops. I can’t help my shock. “What? Really?”

“Yes, really. My father wanted our company to be different. Unrivaled . But I wanted to be different, too. And unrivaled.”

There’s something about his tone that beckons me to pay attention. Not just to what he’s saying now, but everything. He said similar things last week when he spoke about being the best Bratva leader.

Usually when people do so much, or as much as he has, it’s because they want to prove a point. I sense that’s what he did. And it has something to do with his father.

He hasn’t mentioned his mother. Eve told me she died but she never said how and when. Again, I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to feel like I was prying too much. The answers to those types of questions are always painful.

“You have one hell of an impressive background for someone so young.” I nod, guiding my thoughts back to the conversation.

He chuckles. “You don’t have to look so repulsed that you’re impressed by me.”

“I’m not repulsed. I’m just… surprised.”

“Because I do something so legit?”

“Yes. But not everything you do is as legit, is it?”

“You know the answer to that. Why ask me?” His grin falters.

“Because I want to know more.”

“The answer is no. I’m from the Bratva, Gabriella. Everything my family’s company does that’s legit helps fund something that’s 100% illegal. And when things and/or people get out of line, I take care of it.”

He means kill. A cold shiver rushes over me and a sinking feeling forms in my core.

“Does the mafia princess want legit? An ordinary law-abiding man.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Do you think I want to live my life in danger?”

“I don’t. But you can’t run from who you are. You were born in the Italian Mafia. This is your world as much as mine. The best you can do is be with someone who can always protect you from danger.”

“You think that someone is you?” I challenge, knowing I’m stepping over the line.

“I don’t think. I know .” The wicked grin returns, along with that wild desire in his eyes that makes heat curl low in my belly. “You know it, too, Gabriella. You just don’t want to accept it.”

A stab of trepidation pulls at my gut and I want to deny what he’s saying because I don’t want him to be right. “You think you know me, but you don’t.”

Jaxon answers with a full-blown confident smile that’s as disarming as it is sexy. “I know enough about you to know you like me. And there’s not a Goddamn thing you can do about how you feel.”

My cheeks heat from the sting of truth in his words but I shake my head. “You know no such thing.”

“Oh, but I do. You like my darkness. Like the taste of it. Like the way I make you feel. And you worry you’ll like me so much you’ll lose yourself in me.”

He’s not right. But… he is and I hate that I’ve been so transparent.

“Struck a nerve, Krasota?”

“No.” My voice is a little bit louder than a whisper.

“Liar.” He leans forward. “Come here.”

“I’m already here .”

His jaw clenches. “No. I want you to come closer and sit on my lap.”

Damn it . This is the trick. I never even saw it coming because our conversation seemed so normal. Until it wasn’t.