Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva #1) (23 page)

I watch as her body sways, like that of a woman, confident, beautiful—rounder and thicker than she had ever been when I had her as my own all those months ago. She has grown so much, in body and maturity, the past year. I can see it clear as day. Her face is rounder and softer, but gone is the pure unadulterated innocence she once had, replaced with knowledge she should never possess.

Knowledge I inadvertently fed her.

“She is beautiful, Maxim, and the baby, your son, perfection,”
my sister whispers to me in Russian.

I watch as Haleigh walks toward Dimitri’s office, her breasts slightly bouncing with each step, her hips swaying, and her skirt hugging her luscious ass. She looks like a model. Her body is
perfect
, lush and curvy, whereas before she was all bones and hard muscle. She is now soft,
a woman
. My cock grows beneath my jeans, hardening for the first time in months. Only my wife can make me hard in an instant, no matter how her body looks, she just does it to me.

“Maxim,” Dimitri bellows. He walks toward me, pulling me into his body—
hugging me
. The betraying fucker—but he isn’t, not really. I abandoned them,
all of them
.

“My sister, Mariya, this is Dimitri and, of course, Haleigh.” I introduce my sister, and I can see the knowledge of Mariya being my sister changes Haleigh’s demeanor. She calms, relaxes, and I want to smile at her little jealousies, but I don’t.

“Mariya will be staying here indefinitely. I will be here for only two weeks,” I announce. I watch as Haleigh opens her mouth but then shuts it as soon at the baby begins to cry.

I look at him, wanting to pick him up and comfort him, but it isn’t my place. He is only my child by blood; I have not been the one to raise him. Dimitri has had that honor, and it makes me physically ill.

I want my wife and my baby; I want them with me for eternity. I have fucked everything up, but I have saved my sister in the process, so perhaps I can live with myself. Most likely not.

“I’m sorry, Maxim. It is time for his bath, and to nurse, then bed. It was very nice to meet you, Mariya. I know we will have more time to get to know each other,” she says soft and sweetly.

Haleigh looks as though she is about to cry, and the awkwardness in the room is about to swallow us whole.

“Nice to meet you,” Mariya says slowly. It surprises me that she knows any English at all.

Haleigh’s gaze lingers on me for a moment and then the baby begins to cry and she hurries out of the room.

“Please take the bedroom just around the corner here. It has its own en-suite bath, and you will be far enough away from the baby that he will not wake you up in the night. Haleigh changed all the linens just last night and brought some of her smaller clothes down for you to use,” Dimitri offers.

Mariya knows when it is time for her to take her leave, and she does so quietly. My eyes focus on Dimitri, who watches her far too closely for my liking. With Haleigh in his bed, how could he even look at another woman?

“Let us go to the office then?” Dimitri says quietly. I follow.

The room looks so much different without my things. The desk is the same large dark wood piece, the chair a comfortable leather high back, but the decorations are different. Books litter the shelves. I know that Dimitri is an avid reader and I never was.

There are also photos around the office, all of Maksimilyan. I notice there are some toys in the corner and a pen for him to play in. A stab of jealousy fills my body and consumes me. This man has my life, and I fucking handed it to him on a goddamned silver platter.

“Why are you leaving in two weeks, Maxim?” he asks as I sit on the new dark green sofa across from him.

“I must get back to work. My new
Pakhan
is not nearly as forgiving of my absence as Pasha was,” I admit. Dimitri nods, leaning back in his chair.

“You know Pasha will accept you back. He was angry, but mostly he was worried about Haleigh’s health,” he offers. I nod.

“You have seen to her well, it seems. Too well, maybe?” I arch an eyebrow at him, and he has the nerve to laugh.

“Haleigh and I are nothing but companions, Maxim. Do not fill your head with thoughts of anything more. I know you love her and she loves you. She has had a hard year and she had a lot of nightmares and guilty feelings to work through. Plus, the loss of her lover and husband when she needed him most,” he accuses effectively. The stabbing of his words hit their mark,
straight in my heart.

“I did what I thought best,” I try to say. It does not sound convincing. Dimitri throws back his head in laughter.

“You ran. It was not a good situation. I cannot say I wouldn’t have done the same, my friend. You must know that it is time to come home, Maxim. You have only missed mere months of your son’s life. Do not miss years.”

I shake my head, but Dimitri holds his hand up and stops me from speaking.

“Go upstairs, go into the nursery and watch your wife nourish your son. Look at all of that beauty and then you tell me that you are doing what is best by leaving them behind again. If that is the way you feel, then I will ask you to please divorce her so that I may have her, free and clear. That is the best woman I have ever known. I put my sons inside of her, and I know that they will not have a more loving mother to nourish them.”

I walk right up to him and punch him in the face.

“You do not touch what is mine,” I growl. The bastard just smiles.

“Go to her,” he whispers.

I turn around and march up the stairs.

Toward my wife.

Toward my son.

Toward my whole fucking life.

I
AM SITTING IN
the rocking chair. Black and white photos of Russia fill the room; the bedding I know is a soft blue, as are the walls. The bedroom is calm and serene, but inside,
I
am a ball of nerves—gut-wrenching nerves.

Maxim is home, and he barely looked at me. He didn’t even ask about his child and then he brought
that
woman, claiming it was his sister. A sister he has never mentioned to me before. Not that we knew much about each other, but he told me he was an orphan. I now know how he became one, but nothing about a sister. He disappears for a year and—
poof
—like magic, he is back, bringing her with him.

“Maksimilyan, calm down, little love, you must sleep well tonight. We have guests,” I whisper to my heart—my baby.

Maksimilyan looks up at me, his bright blue eyes dancing as he nurses. My baby is so serious and calm, but so very sweet—until night falls. It’s as if he turns into a wild animal. He cries and fusses every single night. I cannot remember the last time I slept for more than two hours straight, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

My son is my life
.

I lie back and relax, trying not to think about the beautiful man downstairs who doesn’t want anything to do with me.
I wonder if he still thinks of me as dirty and disgusting?
I haven’t even looked at another man since he left.

Dimitri is so sweet, and if there were a man I could be interested in, it would definitely be him. But he is like a brother, a best friend. I accompany him to all social events, but I am Mrs. Lasovska. I am
not
Dimitri’s woman; though, I am sure there is gossip about our relationship. We are merely roommates and friends. Nothing more.

I feel Maksimilyan turn into dead weight in my arms, and I know that he is asleep. Carefully I set him down in the crib and adjust myself. I turn to leave the room only to find the object of my affection standing in the doorway wearing an unreadable expression on his face. Not that I ever really understood his expressions, anyway. Expressions I believed to be love were nothing of the sort. I cannot read the man, never could, and probably never will be able to.

“Come,” he says holding his hand out. I stare at him; he is like ice.

Cool blue, cold eyes, granite body that is bulkier than I remembered. And his eyes, they are much more haunted. I don’t take his hand, but I walk toward our bedroom ahead of him.

“You are beautiful with him,” he says softly once he has closed the door behind us.

I glance at the monitor on my nightstand to see that Maksimilyan is indeed still asleep; sometimes, he acts like an opossum and plays me.

“Why are you here, Maxim?” I whisper.

I don’t turn to look at him.
I can’t
. I am already on the verge of tears.

“Bringing my sister to safety. She was taken many years ago,” he explains.

Inside, I am screaming that I don’t give a good goddamn about his fucking sister, but I keep my mouth shut.

“You are leaving in two weeks, for …
forever,
then? Or will you come back every year to torture me and rip my heart out over and over again?” I ask turning around to see his body sway at the venom of my words.

“Haleigh,” he murmurs. I take a step back as he takes one forward.

“Fuck you,” I whisper as tears stream down my face.

“I am bastard,” he mutters, his hands suddenly cupping my cheeks.

I feel his lips kiss beside my ear, sending shivers down my body, emotions that have been dead for a year.

“I hate you,” I moan as his lips travel down the column of my neck, his tongue tasting my collarbone.

Maxim wraps his hands around my hips as his mouth slowly kisses back up my neck. Then he takes my earlobe between his teeth and tugs, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.

“You look so fucking sexy, Haleigh,” he groans.

My hands automatically go into his hair. It is longer, unkempt. Gone is the perfectly neat and tidy image of Maxim, and now, he is rougher and more dangerous looking.
I love it.

“I have tits and an ass now.” I laugh as his hands travel down to my ass, grabbing me, picking me up to carry me to the bed.

“Loved your body before but, honestly, you look fucking fantastic,” he moans.

Maxim is above me, his knees straddling my hips. His hair is messy from my fingers, and it’s hanging down, but his blue eyes focus completely on me. Slowly, his hands twist around the hem of my tank top and he gently peels it over my body. My bra is next, and my skirt is ripped off last, leaving me completely naked for him.

“Most beautiful woman on earth,” he murmurs. His hand slides down the middle of my chest, my stomach, and then he cups my center. His palm is hot and I want so much more.

“Will you let me in, my wife?” he whispers, and it’s as if he hasn’t been gone for a year, as if he wasn’t cruel with his words the night before he left me.

I open my legs and I let my husband in.

Because I am a fool.

I am a fool who believes this man is meant for me.

I am a fool who knows this man will break my heart.

I am just a plain, fucking fool.

Maxim’s chest rumbles as he slides a finger inside of me and slowly begins to pump it in and out of my core. He touches me the only way he knows how—rough and all-consuming. I arch my back, pushing my breasts forward and throwing my head back against the pillow, enjoying the feeling of him touching me, a piece of him inside of me. I feel his lips on my breasts as he licks and kisses my skin; his lips are soft on my nipples.

“I cannot wait a moment longer,” he moans, breaking away from me and shedding his own clothes.

I look at him and notice even more intricate blue tattoos than he had just a year ago cover his body. I shiver at what that means. Dimitri confessed to me months ago that every single tattoo has a meaning, most of them dark and menacing.

He climbs over me again, and I spread my legs as his thick hips fit perfectly between them. Maxim is much bigger than he was before he left, but it is pure muscle and it scares me to think of how he has earned this new bulk, as sexy as it is.

I lightly scratch my nails down his back as I look into his eyes; he looks right at me, his face devoid of emotion as he slides inside of me. For a moment, I think I see something flash in his eyes, but then it is gone as fast as it came. I am left looking at a void, and it makes me want to weep.

I turn my head to the side, avoiding his dead eyes. It hurts my heart.