Red Alpha: A BWWM Russian Alpha Billionaire Romance (23 page)

The young woman had hoped she’d be a bit more healed before Cresseda laid into her, but she supposed luck wasn’t on her side that particular day. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm. After all she’d faced, a dressing down by her superior was fairly minor. “Yes, Ma’am. Probably undermined the authority of the Russian government. Smuggled a high ranking Russian national and covert intelligence out of the country. Made a mess of a hotel room in Berlin…and an alley.”

“Not to mention,” Cresseda continued flatly, “Murdered Osip Danshov’s mistress.”

Cadence’s eyes immediately narrowed. “That conniving, sadistic bitch had it coming. She tortured people. She killed them. She tried to kill
us
and she killed…” She trailed off her voice trembling slightly.

“Alessia.” Cresseda finished for her, her tone softening slightly. “She killed your sister.”

Cadence said nothing, tears dripping down her cheeks to drop onto the scratchy cotton sheets that covered her. It took a moment for her to compose herself, but her gaze never left her superior’s. “I don’t regret it. I’ll
never
regret it.”

Silence stretched between them for a full minute before the director spoke. “Freedman, I’m going to be frank with you: Things are about to get very complicated. With the intelligence you’ve delivered to us, we stand prepared to accuse Osip Danshov of crimes outside of the sanctions set in place by the UN. He’ll most probably be deposed and with Lichakov gone and the lack of Boykov influence, things will be fairly hectic for a while. Danshov may fight us, but if he’s smart, he won’t. I don’t doubt he’ll come after Demyan. He’s been instrumental in all of this…and you helped him escape.”

“So…I messed up. Badly.” Cadence sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. “And you’re firing me.”

“Hell no.”

The young woman’s eyes widened in surprise as she stared at her superior. “You…
aren’t?”

Cresseda’s amused smile was thin – but it was a smile nonetheless. “Your methods are unorthodox, Freedman. You put yourself, our intel, and a Russian national in a shit load of danger. But…you also helped us avoid possible nuclear conflict. I think my ass would be in the fire if I let you go now.”

Cadence’s heart leapt. “I….
Thank
you, Ma’am.”

The elder woman’s scowl returned. “Don’t think this means I’m going to go any easier on you. As soon as you ship home and Myles debriefs you, you’re going into physical therapy until that leg is back at full capacity. Then you’re going to help clean up this mess. Is that understood?”

Cadence all but choked on the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. “Yes Ma’am!” Before she could lose her courage, she continued quickly. “And Demyan…he’s been granted asylum?”

Cresseda groaned, standing in a smooth motion. “We’re not going to throw him back to the wolves, Freedman. We protect our own.”

“Can I see him?”

The way the director arched her brow made the young woman redden slightly. Christ, she’d thought there was no way Cresseda would know that she and Demyan had been…less than platonic, but her expression told a very different story. The woman really could see
right
through people. “You can see him when you’re both back stateside. Until then, rest up.” With that, she turned on her heel to start from the room.

Slowly, Cadence eased herself back on the cushions, her heart full. She began to reach for the folder on her lap once more before Cresseda interrupted a final time. “Oh, and Freedman?”

“Yes Ma’am!” She jerked to attention, biting back a groan of pain.

The director, however, only nodded in her direction. “Your sister…she’d be proud of you.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Finally left alone in the solitude of her hospital room, Cadence covered her face with her hands and let herself cry. For her sister, for Demyan, for everything she had gone through…and everything her heart still longed for.

**

Three weeks later

It was beautiful.

Just as beautiful, perhaps, as his mother and father had told him it would be. Of course, being put somewhere against his will never sat well with Demyan, and being monitored twenty-four seven by the American military could be as stifling as his life in Russia had been, but they weren’t trying to kill him.

Quite the opposite actually.

They patrolled around the edge of the estate to which he’d been confined while Russian’s affairs played out.

At first, it was hard to watch. Demyan sat down in front of the television in his room every evening and watched Osip lie like a dog. Watched him swear to punish the US for their transgressions as he encouraged the Russian people not to believe the lies the American government told.

Within days, Eli Jacob went on national TV, risking his own security, and revealing the secret pact he’d made with Demyan to help produce most of Russia’s stockpiled nuclear weapons. The man was brought to Great Britain while Demyan was in the hospital there to confirm the nuclear codes that Demyan cited, and once that was done, he and his family were relocated somewhere Osip would never find them.

Somewhere not even Demyan himself could reveal.

The balance of power in Russia was beginning to shift. At the revelation of what their leader had been planning, the Russian people did what Demyan had always hoped they would: wake up. They began to demand democratic elections and the rights they deserved, and without Boykov funds and the threat of Lichakov’s crazed punishment, the atmosphere was ripe for change.

Perhaps, one day, he’d be able to return.

But that day would be far in the future.

In the interim, Osip would continue to hunt him until he was brought to answer for his crimes. The US government would do the best they could, and, who knew? Perhaps it would be enough.

But Demyan didn’t particularly plan on finding out.

At the first opportunity, he would leave. He was better at disappearing than some might think, and for now, disappearing would be the best policy – both for him…and for those he cared for.

Demyan’s mind immediately turned to Cadence.

It had been three long weeks since he’d seen her…and it felt like an eternity. When the US had first taken him into custody, he’d refused to tell them anything until he knew she was alright. She had suffered some grievous injuries to her hip, and she would bear the marks of the lacerations Lichakov had visited on her for the rest of her life…but she would live.

Demyan had seen what she did to Roksana, and, quite frankly, he’d been shocked.

As wounded as she was...she’d chased Lichakov through the streets of Berlin and made sure she met the end she’d deserved.

She exacted revenge for her sister…and everything came full circle.

She was coming to see him, he’d been told. Within the next few days, Cadence would be allowed onto the estate, and that he didn’t think he could bear. Demyan knew that if he saw her, he wouldn’t be able to leave. His heart ached for her in a way both foreign and familiar, and the sensation frightened him.

It was dangerously akin to love.

Demyan had lost everyone he’d ever loved, and he’d be damned if he lost Cadence as well.

And so he sat, contemplating his escape, wondering how long it would take for the emptiness he felt to consume him.

He usually had trouble sleeping, and so, at three in the morning, he found himself on a couch in the living room, sipping from a bottle of Vodka and hoping the alcohol would be enough to dull the pain in his chest.

He hadn’t needed anyone his entire life. He had used Danshov, used Lichakov…even used his own sister in a bid to correct the wrongs the Russian government had wrought.

And yet, he still wasn’t free.

“You still drinking like a fish?” He straightened, immediately grabbing for the nearest available weapon and coming up with a paperweight as he shot to his feet. The semi-darkness silhouetted a figure in the light of the hallway and he squinted as his eyes adjusted.

With a sigh, the figure stepped into the light and he inhaled sharply.

Rampant, curly hair, devastating curls, and deep hazel eyes.

Goddamn it. “Cadence.” He swallowed thickly. “I wasn’t expecting you for a few days.”

“I know.” Her reply was soft – careful – as she moved towards him. With no small amount of guilt, the Russian noticed that she still limped on her right leg. Her movement, however, remained fluid. Even in spite of her injury, she had an inherent grace. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

She reached his side to stare up at him and Demyan’s blood rushed in his ears.

Somehow, she was even lovelier than he remembered. She wore a pair of dark wash jeans and a white sweater, her hair pulled back from her face to hang down to her waist. Beneath her clothing, he knew she hosted a bevy of scars.

Scars acquired helping him leave his past behind.

Tentatively, she reached for him.

Acting quickly, Demyan caught her hands before she could touch him, his grip firm. The slight smile playing about her lips faded. “Demyan? I…” She hesitated. “Is this a bad time?”

He opened his mouth before shutting it, and when he spoke again, his voice trembled lightly. “You shouldn’t have come.”

God. Why now? Why now?

“Why?” She insisted, only drawing closer to him. “You don’t want to see me? If that’s the case, just say the word and I’ll leave.”

She knew damned well he would do no such thing.

“Blyad, Cadence.” He cursed, releasing her to turn away and reach for his bottle once more. “Nothing good can come of this. What we shared…it’s best forgotten.”

For a long moment, tense silence hung between them. When Cadence spoke, her tone was low and accusing. “You’re going to leave.” He didn’t reply, and her voice rose in anger. “You bastard. You’re planning on leaving.”

“Don’t you see?” Turning, he took her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “You’re not safe with me. Lichakov tortured you, Osip would have had you killed…and still, he will try, Cadence. I can’t…” He took a deep breath. “I can’t risk that.”

“So I’m supposed to stand by and watch you walk out? Somewhere you can’t be protected? You must be out of your mind, Demyan.” She shook her head, gaze hard. “I will call Cresseda this instant.”

His eyes widened in shock. She wasn’t serious? Cadence would rat him out to her superiors? After what they had shared? He glared at her, fury tightening his chest. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would!” She hissed in return. “You don’t get it, do you, Demyan? You can’t control me. You say you want to leave to protect me, but what if I want to protect you? You’d rather leave me to watch the news one day and see that you’ve been killed than stay and take a chance together? Damn you!” She struck his chest with a powerful fist, making him wince. “You selfish ass. I hate you! I hate you…” Taking two handfuls of his shirt, she slumped against him, a shuddering breath escaping her as his heart pounded against her slender cheek. “Demyan.” She whispered softly against his chest. “Don’t go.” She pressed herself to him tightly, her next words robbing his breath from him. “I love you.”

A powerful tremor wracked his body.

When was the last time someone had said those words? He could barely remember? Love, he knew, was pain. Love was loss.

…but it was also pleasure. It was intimacy, trust and courage.

Love was the unknown...and he was running from it.

Christ, he’d been running all his life.

Maybe it was time to stop.

“Cadence.” When he spoke her name, she looked up at him, her eyes shining with furious tears. Reaching down, he cupped her face tenderly, brushing the moisture away. “Ya lyublyu tebya. I love you.”

The young woman laughed and sobbed all at once, all but throwing herself at him. Demyan handled her gently, lifting her into his arms to carry her over to the couch where he set her gently in his lap. When his mouth found hers, he kissed her with the hunger of all the time they’d been separated – with the passion of the lifetime of affection he’d been denied.

“Good.” The dark-skinned woman whispered huskily against his mouth, making him arch a brow in inquiry.

“Good?”

Cadence nodded slowly. “Cresseda told me to keep an eye on you. I’m supposed to be your baby sitter until everything in Moscow blows over.”

A chuckle worked its way from the Russian’s throat. “I suppose you’ll be adding to the battalion of soldiers already here?”

With a small smile, Cadence shook her head. “No. We’ll be going somewhere much more low-key. Somewhere we can be alone.”

At the prospect, his lower body stirred with interest. How many nights had he lain awake, lamenting that he would never feel the warmth of Cadence’s body in his arms again?

He’d come so close to robbing himself of everything he ever could have wanted.

“That sounds like heaven,” he murmured against her throat, wondering if such a thing truly existed.

Cadence’s lips brushed over his forehead and he lowered his head to listen to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. He knew he would protect her with his life, as she had protected him with hers.

“No…” She breathed, her tone utterly content. “It sounds like home.”

Hello,

So this is the part where I'm supposed to talk about myself. I write so many stories but I often I have a hard time telling my own. Funny how that works.

My name is Cristina Grenier and I have been writing stories for as long as I could remember. I'm a sucker for romance. I draw from past experiences and from others around me when I write. I enjoy creating characters that everyone can relate to.

Besides writing, I also enjoy painting and figure drawing. I'm a bit of a homebody, my ideal night consists of a chilled bottle of wine, some pasta and Netflix. I really hope you enjoy the stories I create.

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