AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Because you're mine and nobody can stop me from kissing you when I want to.”
I smiled at his arrogance, but he wasn’t wrong. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Not soon enough,” he muttered and finally let me go. My heart fluttered at his devotion, his possessiveness that was like a security blanket, his love that was evident in everything he did.
He was right, it was never soon enough.
*****
Ivan
I watched Emmy walk out of the room and my stomach tightened. Every departure felt like a physical ache. My need, my obsession to have her near me as much as possible hadn’t abated as time had passed.
I thought with her father and Orlov six feet under, I’d be able to relax, I’d adjust to the fact that she deserved to live a life without me glued to her side, but I quickly realized that while threats to her safety had previously kept me hypervigilant and protective, it was my own need for her that was the real issue.
My attachment to Emmy was a constant source of discomfort that I frequently struggled to rein in. We’d had arguments about my need to keep track of her constantly, know her whereabouts, and be assured of her safety at all times.
Her therapist pitched the idea that because of all the death and betrayal in my past that I had some fucking attachment issue. Whatever. I didn’t care why it was there, I just knew it was.
I’d worked to calm the fuck down a bit, but Emmy accommodated a lot of my controlling urges, which helped. She actually let me plant a GPS on her, which sounded crazy as fuck, but she’d been kidnapped three fucking times, so it hadn’t been a very hard sell.
One of the main reasons I think she was so compassionate and understanding of my neurotic behavior was because she liked it. She always felt most at ease when I was with her. She appreciated my overprotectiveness, my need to keep track of her. She might not admit it, but it made her feel safe and cared for.
She was my perfect fit in every way.
In fact, watching Katya and Drago prepare for the wedding made me very aware of how much the idea of marrying Emmy appealed to me and my insane compulsion to possess her in every way. I bought a ring for her months ago, but thought it was probably a dick move to propose to her before Katya’s wedding. Fuck, I wanted to marry her the minute I bought it, but that would have been even worse.
Turning around, I shook off the intense emotions that Emmy always provoked in me and focused on my sister. Hannah was fussing over her veil, making sure it looked perfect while Anya good-naturedly teased her about forcing her to participate in the whole thing. Anya liked to play tough, but she loved Katya like a sister, and I knew being a part of her wedding party meant a lot to her no matter how much she griped.
“You about ready, mladshaya sestra?” I asked, calling her little sister in Russian, like I did when we were kids. It was what my mom always used to tell me to call her—baby sister—because Katya had still been so small when our mom was taken from us. I wasn’t sure if my mother would be happy that Katya was marrying someone in the Bratva. In fact, I was certain she would have hated it considering her own extensive experience with the Russian mob.
I was still wrapping my head around my mom’s relationship with Mikhail, periodically allowing myself to consider what might have happened if he’d been my father instead. It was pointless speculation, but I found myself reflecting on it more than once. Of course, I’d kept in touch with him since he went back to Russia, but our relationship had obviously changed. He no longer pestered me to return, though Emmy and I discussed going over there sometime this summer. There was no fucking way I was going in the winter. Chicago was cold enough.
“Yes, bol'shoy brat,” she said, a small grin on her face. Big brother. The term brought another pang to my chest along with more memories of my mother repeating that term to Katya.
Instead of giving into my melancholy, a half-smile jerked one side of my mouth up. “Have you been borrowing Emmy’s English to Russian dictionary?”
Katya snorted and threw a nearby hairbrush at me. “No, you jerk. I’ve been working on my Russian. I wanted to say some of my vows to Drago in Russian, so I needed to bone up.”
The strains of harp music made its way back to us and I felt heat stir in my groin. I had fucked Emmy more times than I could count when she had been playing her harp. She was so fucking hot when she played, so passionate and focused. How could I resist?
Now when I hear her play, I got immediately turned on which was awkward as fuck when in a room with my fucking sister. And her sister.
“Well, that’s our cue,” Hannah said, giving one last adjustment to Katya’s veil. They looked at each other tremulously, then threw themselves in each other’s arms. “I’m so happy for you, Katya,” Hannah sniffed.
“I know you’ll be next, Han,” Katya blubbered back. Oh my god, the tears. Jesus Christ.
“Okay, okay, let’s go, Hannah,” Anya said. Katya let go of Hannah and pulled Anya in her arms next and I saw Anya give her a tight squeeze before pulling back sharply.
“Okay, enough of that,” she said gruffly, though her gaze was definitely watery. “We’ll see you out there, soon-to-be Mrs. Volkov.”
The smile that broke out across Katya’s face was incandescent. “Mrs. Volkov. I like that.”
Hannah and Anya scurried out the door, leaving me with Katya. She cocked her head and stared at me for a moment, as if she was debating something.
“What?” I prompted.
“I don’t know if you want to hear this, but I have a feeling that I’m going to be attending your wedding soon.”
