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He continued, his arm tightening around me. “After a year of being a dutiful soldier, I started to amp up my investigation. I’d made some inquiries, but no one was talking. I decided to bug my father’s office, on the off chance that they might say something that linked back to her. What I discovered had nothing to do with my mom. I ended up recording conversations about their new side business—abducting and trafficking girls from eastern Europe.”
I gasped, whirling in his arms to look at him with a shocked expression. “Oh my god! I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s not like you hear heartwarming stories about what the mob does, but…kidnapping and selling girls? That’s barbaric.”
Ivan nodded his head but allowed me to continue facing him. “I know, it’s a strange moral stance considering we deal in drugs, guns, murder, extortion—the list goes on. But how Yuri was procuring these girls—and they were girls—was sickening. Abduction, drugging, auctions. They discussed it in explicit detail. After hearing it, I diverted from my mother and focused on trying to find out if this was all sanctioned by Mikhail in Moscow. Mikhail and Yuri had a longstanding friendship and Yuri had saved Mikhail’s life one time by telling him of a revolt that was happening in his ranks. It had earned Yuri a lot of leeway with Mikhail.”
I knew Mikhail was the head of the Bratva in Moscow and the man Ivan worked for when he went to Russia. The man who had asked him to talk to the stripper at the club.
“I suspected that the trafficking was something Yuri was doing without Mikhail knowing because we’re typically informed of the operations we have going on. I asked around, and nobody knew anything about it. The only person who gave me the slightest indicator that he might know was Drago, but he’d just gotten to Chicago from Russia, and wasn’t quite yet in the inner circle. They would most likely keep things from him because he had just come over from Moscow and was probably in regular contact with Mikhail. To be honest, while I was revolted by the very idea of human trafficking, I wasn’t sure if Mikhail would be angry about the trafficking itself, or the fact that Yuri had started this operation and was keeping the profits for himself.”
My stomach clenched at such a creepy, heartless attitude. I knew the Bratva was bad in many ways, that the men who worked for the Bratva could be ruthless, psychotic monsters—as evidenced by my experience with Orlov. But to have Ivan in that group sat strangely with me. I shook it off for now, but knew I’d eventually have to revisit this nagging concern.
“While I was deciding whether to contact Mikhail, who I didn’t even know at the time, or keep investigating, my father and Yuri must have been tipped off that I was asking questions. I had no idea, of course. I mean, I was literally still a teenager. That’s when I met Elena. I met her at a bar, not a Bratva bar, but a regular bar on the south side, and she wasn’t Russian. She was a little older than me and gave me this sob story about abusive parents and a dangerous ex-boyfriend. She knew exactly the way to manipulate me, playing on my own triggers around my father and what I suspected happened to my mom. I fell for her almost instantly and, basically, she played the fuck out of me.” His jaw hardened and his mouth twisted in anger and self-disgust.
My own stomach knotted hearing him speak of a woman who had stirred up such intense feelings in him. Was she beautiful? Smart? Was she still around, lurking in the background and waiting for a chance to reconnect with Ivan?
His eyes darted me, as if my reaction had pulled him out of his own embittered memories. “Don’t worry, milaya devushka, she was a mirage. I have no feelings for her now.”
I nodded, giving a small, relieved smile. “I know, it’s just…” I drifted off. It was just that I was jealous and embarrassed about it. I decided to divert the conversation. “What does that mean? The Russian words.”
He shot me a sly grin. “That really does mean sweet girl. But I think I like calling you my neposlushnaya devochka, instead,” he said, his voice turning husky, pulling me to straddle his lap. He started landing kisses on my neck and I knew I had to stop him.
He was entering a part of the story he was probably the least interested in recalling. I knew he’d probably be more than willing to abandon this conversation, especially to have sex. This was a deflection and avoidance. I needed to know about his life, what had happened to him, and feared this might be my only opportunity. Who knew when he’d open up again?
I reached down and grabbed his hands, which were sliding down to cup my bottom, and pulled back from his roving mouth. “I want to hear the rest of the story.”
His lips briefly flattened in displeasure, but relaxed as he read my expression. I wasn’t denying him to be difficult, I was denying him because I was trying to achieve an intimacy with him far greater than sex.
He sighed. “Fine. I met Elena and was convinced I was in love with her.” As if understanding the pain that statement might cause me, he rubbed his hands gently up and down my thighs as they bracketed his hips. His touch had the intended effect, soothing me and putting me at ease to hear the rest of the story.
“What I didn’t know was that she was sent to meet up with me by Yuri and my father. They needed to know what I knew and who I told about their operation. She used all kinds of tactics to get me to spill, but the annoying thing was she didn’t have to try that fucking hard. I wanted to tell her what was going on, wanted to find someone to confide in and get advice from. I dated her for about three months, and on my twentieth birthday, she…” He paused and tipped his head back against the couch.
He was clearly remembering something awful, but I wasn’t sure what to do to soothe him. Normally, I’d offer my touch, but I wasn’t sure if that would be more upsetting. Instead, I just simply waited and allowed him to touch me. His hands continued to rub over my thighs and hips, as if the hypnotic movements calmed him down.
Eventually, with his head still tipped back and eyes closed, he started to speak. “I’m sure you noticed the scars on my side and back.”
I started to nod my head, then realized he couldn’t see me, so emitted a raspy, “Yes.”
“Those were courtesy of Elena. She’d been searching all this time for my recordings. I hadn’t told her everything, perhaps some latent sense of self-preservation kicking in. I can’t believe I hadn’t suspected her earlier because she had asked to hear or see the recordings more than once, but I told her she didn’t want to hear that. That the things they said were depraved and she’d already had such a hard life.” He lifted one hand and rubbed it down his face in aggravation. “Fuck, I was so stupid.”
“Ivan, you were a traumatized, grieving kid alone in a cold, dangerous, cruel world. It’s not your fault you reached out for some kind of warmth, some kind of compassion and support. It wasn’t your fault.”
He looked doubtful. “Maybe, but—”
I put my hand over his mouth. “No buts. It wasn’t your fault. You’re human. You’re allowed to make mistakes, to want a connection with another person, someone you thought cared for you. Stop blaming yourself.”
His breathing ticked up as he stared at me, his emerald eyes blazing with barely suppressed emotion as they roved over my features. I wasn’t sure if he was angry or aroused, but the answer came quickly as he jerked my hand away and slammed his mouth over mine, his big hands cradling my face.
I suspected he was trying to divert us into sex again, and was very worried I would allow it, when he pulled back, landing a couple of soft kisses on my mouth.
I thought he would say something, explain his unexpected affection, express the emotions I could clearly see on his face when he pulled back—the disbelief, the gratitude, the adoration—but I was going to have to adjust to the fact that Ivan didn’t like to explain much, least of all his feelings. Instead, he just barreled forward in his story.
“Anyway, it was my birthday and we had plans. I didn’t realize she’d figured out where the recordings were, had used some kind of fucking software to break into my laptop. Apparently, she’d given them to Yuri and had been given orders to eliminate me. That night, while we were having sex, she tried to kill me.”
My hands slammed over my mouth as a small shriek of shock escaped my lips. Tears instantly flooded my eyes at the thought of young, angry Ivan finally believing he’d found love only to be so bitterly betrayed.
It was horrifying. It was infuriating. It was heartbreaking.
“Oh, Ivan, I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. That’s unbelievable,” I babbled, feeling like every word was wholly inadequate.
