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Her sweet-sixteen party was meant to break boys, but it nearly broke me. She was sin and a half in her gorgeous blue gown that rivaled the color of her eyes, and I let several wandering eyes force my hand. I should have walked the fuck out and not taken her onto the dance floor and twirled her in my arms as if it was an innocent dance with my godsister. However, it was anything but innocent as the sparkling diamondsnowflake necklace I bought her was resting just above her ample tits, tempting me to kiss that soft flesh.
Then she leaned in with hungry eyes, pressing her perfect, youthful body against me to whisper how she loved the way I smelled. Her voice was breathy as she uttered the words and my dick stiffened instantly, forcing me to create a little distance until the music came to an end. I hadn’t missed the look of hurt that quickly flashed in those icy blue eyes.
After that dance, I made my excuses to the family, leaving to deal with a matter that had come up. It was an excuse. Still, I made sure to make my time away count. I had to let that pent-upenergyout somehow, so I ended up taking over an entire warehouse of guns from another family who had problems with us. Once I ended any opposition, I shipped them overseas for my own.
That night, Natalya had fucked up my head and balls so bad that I went on the hunt for war, but one day, that would come to an end because the day she turns eighteen, I will be claiming her.
I shake that memory out of my head as I stroll into the hallway, stopping my brother, who looks like he’s heading toward my father’s office, just in time and warning him away from there. “They’re in there together.”
“Again? Damn. He can’t stay off her.” He scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. Misha’s only eleven, so he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about yet. Give it a few years, and he’s going to want to dry-hump every damn thing that moves. The boy doesn’t have any self-control or manners. I think it’s because he’s the youngest.
“Wait until you get a woman,” I inform him. The thought of having unfettered access to Natalya makes my balls ache with need. As much as I must resist her until her next birthday, I refuse to resist that she will one day be mine.
“Look who’s talking. When are you going to get a woman, or do you dip off to the club Petrov owns to get your dick wet?” My best friend owns lots of properties, including a strip club that he loves to visit. We might be friends, but we don’t partake in the same activities, despite my brother’s curiosity.
Pinning my little brother to the wall, I give the little shit a warning, “Mind what you say, Misha, or I’ll pop you in your pretty face. If you’re old enough to speak like that, you’re not too young to learn a lesson in manners.” I get in his face, knowing that he’s pushing his luck and should learn to mind his elders, especially because I’m going to be the head of this family next year. My father wants to retire from the illegal end of the family and focus solely on his corporation, which is fine by me.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”
“Good. Don’t disrespect me or our parents with that mouth of yours because if Father heard you, you wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.” He nods, and I set him on his feet before ruffling his hair. Besides, my wife hasn’t grown up yet. Soon. Not soon enough, though. I shove him as I leave the house and climb into my waiting SUV.
“The condo.” We barely made it out of my parents’ driveway when I changed my mind. “Better yet, take me to Alexi’s,” I order my driver. My wife-to-be will need another gift, after all, and I mustn’t come empty-handed. I sit back with a wave of calm coming over me. If I can’t escape the little temptress, I’d better prepare for her.
Chapter Two
Natalya
“Did you send all the invites out?” I pop into my father’s office unannounced, which usually is a no-no, staring at him while he’s reading a document.
“Yes, I did, my sweet. Why?” my father asks, looking up with suspicion in his dark, all-knowing eyes. Uh-oh. Am I that obvious?
I bounce from one foot to the other with my hands behind my back, anxiously hoping one person sent in his RSVP. He, above all people, is who I want to see at my party. Although, given our age differences and our last encounter, the likelihood is slim to none. “I’m just making sure we received all the responses.”
“Most didn’t send back the card. Sweetheart, it’s the twenty-first century, and it’s a pool party. Did you check with your mother?” he asks, trying to be polite while also a little annoyed by the unimportant question.
“Yes, but she said that some were sent from you?” My voice cracks at the end, and I almost lose my nerve and run out. Drago Romanov is intimidating to everyone else, but to me, he’s just my dad until now.
He leans back in his leather chair, brow raised, and nods his head. “Oh, you mean your godbrother and the rest of the family?” He twists his lips while twirling the pen on his desk, staring at me. I can feel the heat creep over my cheeks, giving me away.
I don’t want to make it obvious that I’m truly only concerned about Ilya’s invite, so I smile and say, “Yes, of course. All of them.”
“They’re all coming. Well, I believe so. I didn’t get a response from Ilya directly, but Roman told me that they were all coming.” He raises his brow and stares at me. “Sweetling, do you like him?”
“No,” I screech, answering way too fast, so I try to correct myself. “I mean. I love him as my godbrother, but…like, that’s it. I’m going to find Mom.” He shrugs and goes back to his document. I could swear I saw a hint of a smile on his face as he lowered his head.
I pace back and forth outside his office while I consider the possibility that he’s on to me. He doesn’t believe me. Oh, goodness. What am I going to do? Will he keep Ilya away from me? He’d never hurt Ilya because of it. What if he tells him? I rush away from his office as quickly as I can, hoping to erase that embarrassing meeting with my father from my brain.
When I think about it some more, it shouldn’t matter if he tells Ilya anyway. Ilya thinks of me as a little kid. The heartbreaking, mortifying memory of my sweet sixteen still haunts me. I leaned into him and told him how good he smelled, and he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. My godbrother was completely repulsed.
He left right after, and I haven’t seen him since. Nearly a year, and there hasn’t been a single ounce of contact between us. Normally he’d at least call for Christmas or make sure to stop by when we visited Russia, but he happened to be away on business.
“Where are you off to?” my older brother says, catching me running down the hall, hooking me by the arm to stop me.
“I’m looking for Mom,” I say, hoping he doesn’t sense my distress because he’d tell Mom and Dad too.
He smirks before saying, “She’s in the back meeting with the planner, which means Father will be there shortly.” The door to Dad’s office flies open with a hard slam, and he comes rushing out toward the backyard without acknowledging us, his eyes dangerously darkened with fury.
“What’s going on?” I ask Junior.
