Ruby Mayhem: A Russian Mafia Romance (Vyronov Bratva Book 1)

I heave a sigh as I lean forward in my seat, looking at Irina.

I reach out and gently brush her silver hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“It’s been almost three weeks. Can you believe that?” I ask her, as she’s sitting in usual chair, staring out the window at the garden, with a faint smile playing in the corner of her lips. My own chair is pulled alongside hers. I’ve sat with her here almost every day since my first visit. Coming to see her daily has now become a habit. It’s a quiet reprieve from the clusterfuck of confusion my new life has become.

“It’s been um… interesting,” I continue, choosing my words carefully. “He’s… well, he’s not as bad as I thought he’d be.”

Not as bad?

Understatement of the year, Tiana!

I can’t help but blush as memories of our heated encounters flood my mind. Memories of things I could never say out loud in front of Irina, even though she doesn’t seem to register my words. “Well, most of the time, anyway. Sometimes he is cold and distant. But then, I catch him looking at me… like he cares.”

I stifle a smile, remembering our last argument when he caught me going through his closet when I thought he’d be out. I know, I know… it was childish of me, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been locked in here for over three weeks with a man I barely know anything about. The urge to learn more about him has become all-consuming.

And then, as usual, I was caught red-handed.

The incident led to another spanking, which I would never have believed I’d enjoy so much. But I do. So I’ve decided that I’m insane.

I shake my head, dispelling the thought. “I know it’s probably just Stockholm Syndrome talking. I mean, it must be, right? I don’t know what to make of it most days,” I confess to Irina, who seems to be dozing off in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “One minute he’s as cold as ice, and then next…” I pause, because what generally happens next is something I can’t tell Irina, conscious or not. “And the next, I could cheerfully slap him!”

I know she’s not really listening. I know I’m talking to myself rather than talking to her, but at least her presence makes me feel like I am in someone’s company. Poor woman. I can only imagine what she must have been through that led her to be in a state like this.

Three weeks!

I almost can’t believe it’s only been a little less than three weeks since I first laid eyes on Kirill Vyronov. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet it also feels like just yesterday when I was reeling in horror as I heard his voice rumble for the first time – bidding a million dollars for me. And every day leads me deeper down a path that frightens me. Because I can’t let go of what I need to do… and that is to get out of here.

Keep your eyes on the prize, Tee.

Except I don’t say my intentions out loud because there’s always the fear that there’s lucidity beneath Irina’s silence.

Is she listening to me?

I really hope she’s not. I often confide in her in these little moments together. My quiet confidante.

“Sometimes… he treats me like I’m precious. To him.” I gnaw on my lip. “He took me to dinner after buying me an entire designer wardrobe. And we went to the opera; we saw La Traviata. It was the first time I’d ever been.” I’d felt like a queen, dressed in a designer gown and wearing a diamond choker he’d presented me with before we’d left. “And then, in the next breath, he’ll say something that seems purposely intended to remind me how I got here.” Something that reminds me that I’m just a little more than a slave.

Except I don’t really feel like a slave.

Not anymore.

“There are times when I… I miss him. Can you believe that?” The words almost surprise me when I hear myself say them out loud. How could I miss someone I’m trying to get away from? “He works so much and leaves me alone all day. Aside from those goons who follow me around all day. And aside from my time with you…”

You’re definitely going insane, Tee.

But who could blame me? My entire life boiled down to spending my days within the confines of an opulent mansion, guarded by a group of thugs, talking to Irina, and having mind-blowing sexual encounters with Kirill in the evenings. And it’s only been three weeks since I got sold at an auction and that my father was gunned down in front of me. It’s a lot to process for any normal person. Who wouldn’t go crazy under such circumstances?

I give a tiny start when Irina turns to look at me with a clarity that makes me blink back at her in alarm. But then her lips curl into a sweet but vacant smile as she looks down at where her hands are clasped on an embroidered quilt that’s been tucked over her knees.

I smile back. I know that she’s slipped into that strange world of hers again. It makes me sad. And lonely. And sorry for her. No decent human being would stay sane after what she’s gone through.

But there is also something else. Something that is weighing on my mind, penetrating my thoughts for the last few days.

Something really big…

“I’ve missed my period,” I whisper when it seems she’s dozed off again. “What am I going to do, Irina?” I sink deeper into my chair and rub my forehead. It hadn’t occurred to me until the start of this week that I was four days late; I’ve always been like clockwork.

Maybe it’s the stress?

Maybe. But then again, maybe it’s not. It’s not like we were always super careful.

“What if I’m pregnant?” I keep my voice low to a whisper. If I am, I will never be able to leave. He may overlook things if I managed to get away from him alone… but to get away with his child? He’d hunt me to the ends of the earth.

My throat feels clogged, and I swallow hard. “I don’t know what to do…” I lean sideways a little and rest my head on her shoulder, taking some comfort from her closeness. Even though she’s seldom responsive, it feels good to have an older woman to talk to. Like I’m sharing my secrets with the mother I never had.

“You two look very comfortable.”

The deep, familiar voice coming from the doorway has me shooting upright.

Fuck!

Did he hear me?

“Oh! Hi,” I say too quickly as Kirill walks up beside us. “You gave me a fright.”

He’s silent for a moment. He looks over at Irina, and then lets his eyes wander over my face. First, it’s like he’s scrutinising me, then a gentleness takes hold. It unsettles me. He strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You look tired.”

I blink in surprise. There’s that oddly caring side of him again, the one I can’t place. It seems so out of character.

“Well, I guess that’s because somebody doesn’t let me get any sleep,” I counter, giving him a wry smile. I’m still praying he never heard me offloading to poor Irina. Telling her that I think I’m pregnant. Should I tell him?

Hell no!

He’ll never let you go!

“It is more than that.” Kirill grasps my jaw lightly and tilts my head back, searching my eyes. “You are unhappy.”

“What?” I’m startled by his blunt statement. “Why would you say that?”

“Your eyes are haunted, Ptichka.” His thumb strokes my jawline. “Why are you sad?”

“Why do you care?” I know I sound surly, but he can’t seriously be asking that.

“You will be my wife soon. That will make you important in my world. It will be my duty to look after you, as a good husband should.”

For a short moment, the words get caught in my throat. How can he say that like it’s the most normal thing ever? He bought me, for fuck’s sake! How can he expect me to simply concede to his outrageous will? I mean, what world does he live in? It is beyond what I could ever understand.

“You’re kidding, right?” I fire back. “You bought me, forced me to stay with you, and now you’re forcing me to marry you and… and have your child? And you expect me to be happy?”

Kirill tilts his head slightly, his eyes locked with mine. “Has it been so difficult, Tiana? You have not enjoyed yourself?”

“I… Um…” Shit. Sure I did, but he should know it’s not that simple. Where do I even begin to explain this to him? But the most screwed up thing is that at the end of the day, even I can’t deny that I’ve loved what he’s done to me. I never thought I would, but I did. And he’s treated me well. More than well. I wish it had been all bad, but it hasn’t. I wish that he hasn’t been treating me with courtesy and concern… and gentleness. Aside from the rough sex and the spankings. And God, I’ve loved those.

“Tiana?” His thumb is still stroking my jaw, and even that innocent touch has my nipples tightening.

“Yeah. I’ve enjoyed myself,” is all I can croak out.

“Yet still, you are unhappy.” He frowns. As if this actually bothers him.

“I’ll get over it.” It’s hard to try to look nonchalant when he’s standing so close that I can feel the heat of his body, and his hand is cupping my face. “I’ll get a hobby or something.”

“A hobby?” he scoffs. “I am being serious, my little bird. I want you to be happy.”

I lick my lips. “Funny you would call me a bird. Is it because you’re keeping me here in a cage?”

“Have I not taken you places, Tiana? Let you out of this… cage?”

God, the nerve of this man!

Doesn’t he understand that he’s taken my life and my freedom?

How can I explain this to him?

And how can my panties be drenched even now, just by him standing next to me?

“You have,” I say simply. My eyes drop. Sure he’s been more than generous and attentive – when he’s been around. “But-”

“But what?”

“Kirill, I’m lonely,” I mumble. “There’s no one to talk to when you’re away. And you’re away a lot. I love my visits with Irina, but…” I give a shrug. Kirill glances over at the woman who’s gazing up at him. She hasn’t said a word since he arrived.

“I understand.” He releases my face.

Great.

He understands.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll cope.” Without realizing it, my lips have pressed into a tight line. I can’t let my body betray itself. He can’t know that even now, I’m aching to be in bed with him, entangled in his muscles in a world of pleasure that seems to bend the laws of physics.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It will please me if you are happy.” He frowns as he says it, as if the words surprise him too. “What do you need?”

I take in a deep breath as I think this through. “Some company would be nice, I guess. Maybe if I could call a friend occasionally?”

“And you have a friend you can trust?”

“I have Roxie.”

“Roxie?”

I nod. “She’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. And her dad is a ‘made man,’ so she… uh… she understands this lifestyle.” I sweep a hand in his direction.

“Lifestyle?”

“You know. Mob. Bratva. Whatever you call it.”

His lip twitches as if he’s holding back a smile. “Then she will be perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” I gnaw my bottom lip.

“Tell her to come here,” Kirill says abruptly.

“Come here?”

“Yes.” He straightens and steps toward Irina, stroking a hand over her hair. “Then you will spend as much time with her as you like. I want to see my little bird smiling again. Yes?”

What the hell?

He wants Roxie to come here?

“Uhum,” I manage. I’m still gaping in astonishment as he leans down to his mother and brushes his lips over her forehead.

“Ya lyublyu tebya, Mama,” he murmurs before looking my way again. “Dima will get you a phone.”

With that, he turns around and leaves us both sitting there. His mother silent in her own little world.

As for me, I’m silently stupefied.