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Circling my arms around his neck, I whisper, “I love you, Adrik.”
“I love you,moya melan’keya I’vitsa.”
Adrian’s hand wraps around the back of my neck and pulls me into a kiss. Soon, we’re dragging the covers off our bodies and I’m impaling myself on his hard cock, riding him like a stallion at the Kentucky Derby, our fingers linked together.
It takes us another hour to get out of bed and into the shower, and then another half an hour after that since he insisted on making me come on his tongue before we left. He isn’t telling me where we are going, just that it’s a surprise.
I sit in the back of the Escalade with him as Misha drives us just off the Strip. The building is one of the older constructions that somehow managed to survive the upscaling and rescaling era of newer Vegas.
“Mr. and Mrs. Volkov,” a young blonde woman greets us as we walk in. “Welcome. Mr. Trent has prepared the conference room for you. It’s all set up.” She guides us further into the building and into a large, glass conference room full of photos and blueprints.
“Adrian, what is this?” I ask, my eyes perusing the materials. He smiles down at me and gestures around the room.
“This,” he says. “Is where you and Trent will build our new home.”
“What?” My head snaps up to him in excitement. “Really?”
He nods. “The other house is a total loss, but the gardens and everything are all intact, for the most part,” he says. “You can build where the old house stood, or we can pick somewhere else on the property. We can even build it where your family’s house stands if you want.”
I grimace at the idea of going back there.
“No,” I tell him. “I have another idea for that space.”
He nods and doesn’t press me. Adrian is letting me have a complete say over all the Castellanos assets, except the illegal side. With the help of the remaining Spiridakos brothers, he’s already dissolved the flesh trade that my father and Peter started. He’s keeping the legal brothels and the half-dozen casinos and hotels my father owned, but everything else is mine.
I decided to turn it into a women’s shelter. We’ll house women who are leaving abusive relationships or situations as well as victims of sex trafficking. They’ll be able to learn new skills to live and survive on their own. We’ll offer new identities and everything.
But most importantly, I want to ensure that nothing, like what happened to Cora and Ada, happens again on my watch. I know that realistically I can’t save everyone, but I can try. Svetlana has already put me in contact with a group of female bikers who are based out of Seattle, named the Vixens. Apparently, the MC’s president’s mother spent her life rescuing trafficked women. They’ve been looking at expanding and they offered to ride out here for a weekend so we could all chat and get to know each other.
“Ah,” An elderly-looking gentleman strides into the room. I’m assuming this must be Trent. “Mr. and Mrs. Volkov, I am excited to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” I tell him, shaking his hand with a smile.
“Come and take a seat over here and let’s get planning that new home for you.” He motions to two chairs at the table.
“A new home,” Adrian whispers in my ear, his voice low and seductive. “Means new rooms I can fuck you in.”
A blush creeps up my cheeks as I swat playfully at his arms.
A new home indeed.
And a new start with the man I love.
We didn’t get the start we wanted, but I think, in a way, we got the start we needed.
Forty-One
It’s raining on my wedding day.
Some would call it a bad omen, but not today. The Nevada drought is now officially over, and I can’t take it as anything other than a good sign that it landed on the day I am set to marry the man of my dreams.
Rain pelts the glass windows of my family home. I decided that I wanted our wedding to be held here, at the place where it all started. So much pain is within these walls, and I want there to be something good to remember going forward. We were originally going to hold the ceremony at the red willow tree, but the unexpected rain means we will be holding it in the old barn out back instead.
Yelena and Svetlana crowd around me as they primp, dab, and curl anything they can get ahold of. I've never felt more like a princess than I do right now. I've also never felt more loved. There's a familiar twinge in my chest at the thought of not being able to share this with Ada. This had been our wish growing up, to be in each other’s weddings. That was before our hopes were tainted by our family.
I'm nervous. Wondering if this will all be some kind of figment of my imagination. My hands are shaking, and I can’t stop sweating.
“You alright?” Yelena pauses in curling my hair, the smile on her face fading slightly. “You look white as a ghost.”
