Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (47 page)

“He told you?”

“He also told me that he promised he wouldn’t. Do not worry. I did not hurt him, merely a little persuasion with medications. In this case, to tell the truth. A truth he tried to hide because he knows it is your death sentence.”

“What?”

Once again, his eyes cut to someone off screen, and he growled out something in a tone that indicated he was way-the-fuck pissed off.

His gaze shifted to the stoic Krom standing behind her, and he said in English, “Get her out of there. Boldin has men on the way to kidnap her, and Gilyov’s man is unaccounted for.”

“Wait, what?”

“Jessica,” Jorg snapped, his gaze becoming more clear by the second as whatever drugs he was on were burned off by his anger. “Do you love your daughter?”

“Of course.”

“Do you want her to live?”

“What!”

“If you want your daughter to live to see her first birthday, you will leave with Krom, now, and disappear.”

Krom said something in a stunned voice behind her, but Jorg ignored him and focused on Jessica. “We will stage your death, set you up with a new life, and your daughter can grow up in safety without a bounty on her head.”

Feeling like she’d been slapped, she slumped back in her chair. “You’re crazy.”

“No,” he roared. “Crazy is my world, where men are drugged and mind-washed, women are killed because of those they love, and you, gentle Jessica, would not survive it. You are dead if you stay with my son, or you could easily be the cause of his death. If you want your daughter to live, you have one option.”

“But I’m safe here. My Uncle Peter—”

“Is no match for the Boldin
Bratva
,” Jorg sneered. “They will kill him, and everyone he loves including the little girl from Belfast your aunt and uncle are about to adopt.”

“What? The adoption went through?”

“Yes. Would be terrible if the Boldins decide to get their revenge by killing her once she finally found a loving family.”

Hugging herself, she trembled. “You’re serious.”

“Yes, and you are out of time.” He rattled off a long list of what almost sounded like instructions to Krom before telling her one last thing. “From this moment on, Jessica Venture is dead. Become whoever you want to be, but stay away from my son or your death will be on my soul.”

With that, he signed off, and she was left staring at the screen. Krom gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her like an invalid. “I need your wedding ring.”

“What?”

Tormented empathy filled his dark gaze. “For the scene of your death, we will need your ring.”

“I...but my mother...”

He closed his eyes, then held her hand, and gently slid the gold bands off. “I swear to you, Jessica Novikov, that if there was any way out of this that would not result in you dying, I would take it. You have a way out, an opportunity that many, many wish they had, but never do.”

“An opportunity?” she whispered, tears pouring down her face. “My husband is going to think I died!”

“Jorg Novikov will kill you if Alex finds out you are alive. That is guaranteed by him and witnessed by everyone in the room.”

“What? He’d kill me?”

His eyes were filled with a grave, terrible seriousness. “To save his son? Yes.”

“Krom, I can’t leave Alex. He’s my world. Please don’t make me.”

“Listen to me.” He clasped her cold fingers in his own and lowered his voice. “If you do as Jorg wants and flee now, I promise you, I swear to you, when it is safe, I will find you and bring you back home to Alex, but only when it is safe.”

A tiny flame of hope flickered in her bleeding heart. “Swear it.”

He pressed her hands to his hard chest over his heart. “On my life.”

There was a swift knock at the door followed by a voice she didn’t recognize speaking in Russian. Krom stiffened, then set her on her feet, minus her wedding rings, which he put in his pocket. She frantically looked around the room, wanting to grab something, anything, to remember Alex by. Then Krom reached for her collar that she stored in a box next to her bed while sleeping.

“No!” she jerked it out of his hands. “Not this. I swear I will never show it to anyone, anywhere, but this is mine! You can have my ring, but not my collar.”

More pounding from the door, and Krom threw up his hands. “You have two minutes to get dressed. Then we leave.”

She put on her collar then frantically ripped off her nightgown, trying to keep her stomach from emptying all over the place. Those little flutters in her lower belly were going crazy, and she dimly hoped her baby wasn’t being hurt by all the shocks her mother was suffering. She forced herself to put on her clean underwear, maternity jeans, and a loose white shirt with a thick black cardigan. Taking one more glance around her closet, she tried to burn everything into her memory, especially the neatly hung rows of Alex’s suits. His scent filled the air, and before she could stop herself, she stole some of his cologne, shoving the slender bottle into her pocket and pulling her blowsy shirt and cardigan over it. She had no idea why she did it, just that she needed something of his.

When she returned, Krom and a man she didn’t know eyed her up and down.

“Let’s go,” the older, slender man in the brown knit hat said and motioned to her.

“Krom?” She looked at her bodyguard, not trusting anyone but him at the moment.

“I am right behind you. Go, I will cover you. We must hurry. There is fighting at the gate.”

She mimicked the movements of the man in front of her and crouched down, moving through her dimly lit house almost silently. It should have felt silly, but when a man like Krom acted tense, it was best to be alert. They moved through the house, and once again, she tried to commit every inch of it to memory as she reached out and touched objects as they passed. Instead of going out the front, they went out the back, and Krom placed his hand over her mouth when she found one of the perimeter guards unconscious, possibly dead.

“I knocked him out. He is fine,” Krom said. “But no one can see you leave.”

Nodding, she found herself at the bottom of the sloping, wooded side yard of the house and on one of the many footpaths that wound through the woods a short while later. Krom carried her most of the way, occasionally brushing away her tears with a soft murmur in Russian. He displayed an almost eerie ability to walk through the forest at night without stumbling once. The thin guy in the hat was a little loud, but not nearly as noisy as she was when she had to crawl over or under something. Suddenly, gunfire and men shouting came from behind them, and Jessica pressed her hands over her belly in an almost unconscious protective gesture.

Krom stopped, put her down, turned around, and pulled out two handguns. He glanced over his shoulder at her, his features nearly invisible in the darkness. “Go. I will hold off any that come this way.”

“We can’t leave you,” she said in a low, panicky voice.

“Jessica, I promise you, once it is safe I will come for you and bring you back to Alex.”

Hope blossomed in her and she clung to his arm. “Swear it!’

“I swear.” More shouts came from closer than last time, and Krom snarled, “Go!”

With a muffled cry, she allowed the other man to lead her away from Krom, who quickly blended into the forest behind them. Thankfully, they didn’t have much farther before they reached a luxurious black SUV hidden on a side road about five minutes from where Krom had left them. Her body ached with tension, and she flinched every time she stepped on a branch or made some noise. They were almost to the SUV when gunshots exploded, much closer than she expected. The tall man looked at her and pulled out his gun. “Time to run, lass.”

She quickly clambered into the SUV, and the moment her door shut, the man started the engine and pulled out, not using any headlights, just driving what, to her, seemed blindly through a forest lit by a half-moon.

“Name’s Shane O’Doyle,” the man offered. “Mr. Novikov, Senior, contacted me an hour ago and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Now, my mother Margo thinks fondly of you, but even I can’t go against the will of Mr. Novikov. However, we’re going to help you as much as we can. You’re going in our private jet back to the United States. We’ll take anywhere you want, set you up in a home of your choice, in the town of your choice, but you must be reclusive ’til after you’ve had your daughter.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

Her belly cramped, and she tried to slow her breathing.

Tatiana, hang in there, baby. Mommy’s going to get her shit together and stop flooding your system with fear chemicals.

She actually had no idea if that was even possible, but it made sense in her head.

“You can’t go out there lookin’ like you, love. You’re famous. Pictures of your wedding are all over the world. Someone’ll spot you for sure. If you want a new life, you’re gonna have ta change some things after the baby comes, at least at first.”

“Seriously?”

“You don’t do Internet searches for yourself or Alex?”

She sighed. “You have a point. Look, if I can’t go out looking like myself, then who will I look like?”

“Just small changes, hair dye, contacts, breast implants—”

“Wait, what? I’m not getting a boob job.”

He shrugged. “Well then, I guess it won’t be long before someone finds you and kills you.”

That thought absolutely took the fight out of her. “Do you think Krom is all right?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s resourceful. I’m worried about you. Tender young thing, pregnant at that, having to make a go of it alone. My sister is a single mum, and she said a nanny is the best thing you could possibly have, so we’ll pay for any nanny that you might want to use as well. This life can be whatever you make of it, Jessica. In his own twisted way, Jorg Novikov has given you a great gift. He could have easily just killed you to end his son’s divided loyalties. Instead, he’s arranged your death, which is no easy thing, to the point where it will fool your husband.”

At the mention of Alex, she burst into tears, and Shane awkwardly patted her back. “It’ll be okay. Really, it will be. You’ll have your little girl, and you’ll be all right.”

“But who will my husband have?” she whispered, and he jerked back with a guilty look. “Right. He is going to go insane. He’s going to be all alone, his wife and daughter dead just like his mother, his stepmother, his sister. How much death can a man take? It will break him.”

“He’s strong. It won’t be easy, but he’ll survive. If he’s any kind of man, you know he’d do anything to keep you safe, even if he is unknowingly doing it.”

The car bumped onto a paved road, and she leaned her head against the window, exhausted and heartsick. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“It’ll be a three hour drive, so you rest up.”

Words were beyond her as she tried to face a future where her daughter would never know how much her father loved her.

Four months later

Jessica moaned in pain, too exhausted to even cry, sure she was dying as her whole body tensed with the next contraction. The salt of her sweat stung her dry lips, but they wouldn’t give her anything more than ice chips to suck on. Her throat was ragged from moaning, and she felt so damn alone, and scared. It hurt, more than she’d imagined by a million, and she was so tired she fell asleep between contractions. For two hours she’d been pushing, and her legs shivered uncontrollably in the stirrups.

“You can do this,” Shannon, Jessica’s motherly doula, said while the doctor stood between Jessica’s legs, his gaze focused on her pelvic area.

People bustled about the lovely birthing suite with an ocean view, getting ready for Tatiana to make her appearance. This was the top hospital in Miami and one she’d probably have picked on her own, but she’d been forced to come here by Jorg. He’d paid in advance for every aspect of her pregnancy care, and allowed her to choose her own doctor from among those at the hospital. She’d sent him a note back begging him to reconsider taking her away from Alex. He hadn’t responded, which was a response in itself.

A hard, body-clenching pain ripped through her, and she thrashed her head against the damp pillow, wanting to quit, but she couldn’t. She’d given up her marriage for this baby, given up everything to keep her safe, and Jessica wasn’t going to fail her child now. Her entire being was focused on the terrible pain, a pain so overwhelming that she couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but operate on instinct. Sweat soaked the bed beneath her as she strained to keep from pushing, to listen to Shannon’s instructions.

“Okay, sugar, let’s do this.”

With Shannon coaching her the entire time, Tatiana Kathleen St. Cloud made her appearance twenty minutes later into the world at eight pounds and six ounces, a big, healthy girl who cried loudly in protest at being taken so rudely from her safe cocoon.

Exhausted, Jessica watched them clean her daughter up, and her already broken heart shattered further as her tears fell unchecked. Alex should be here right now, holding her hand, telling her how beautiful their daughter was, how much he loved her. Her lower lip trembled as she bit back a sob, not wanting one of the first sounds her daughter heard to be her mother breaking down. Jessica had managed to keep herself somewhat together during the last part of her pregnancy, not wanting to risk damage to her daughter with her grief, but now, the loss of her husband, Tatiana’s father, overwhelmed her. Their daughter would never get to know the man who would have lavished her with love, spoiled her with attention, and been the best father a little girl could ever want.

Shannon, dressed in a pair of scrubs with parrots all over her top, made a clucking noise then enveloped Jessica in a hug.

“Alex?” she asked in a low voice.

Unable to answer, Jessica nodded and hated the lies her life had become. Shannon, and everyone else, believed that Jessica’s husband had died and left her a wealthy young widow with no family or friends. This was part of her new identity, as was her new name, Jessa St. Cloud, and her lovely new home outside of Miami. When given the choice to pick anywhere in the US to live, she’d selected Miami because it was about as unlike Ireland as one could get and far away from her friends and family in the States. Warm weather, the ocean, and a vibrant culture had all seemed like the ideal location to raise her daughter. Unfortunately, her depression marred any possible enjoyment of the natural beauty and vibrancy of Miami, wrapping her in a suffocating blanket of indifference that only her daughter could pierce.