Page 62 of Baby for the Bratva

As I pull away, she grabs the back of my head, finishing the kiss strong. I want her all over again, but I can’t do it here. We need to get to a bathroom at least, or videos of my naked ass thrusting in the empty shopping mall are going to be all over the internet.

Keep it classy. There will be plenty of time for that after dinner.

Stella pulls away and holds up my black card triumphantly, letting out a squeal of delight as she skips into the first shop. I meander in after her, watching her with a newfound appreciation as she swoons over glittering dresses and crocodile embossed purses.

I enjoy watching her spend my money. I’ve gotten so bored with it myself that it’s nice to have a reminder how much joy it can bring someone who isn’t used to it. She’s hurrying from rack to rack, checking prices as though it’ll somehow be too much for me to afford.

Finally, she comes back to me with a nervous smile. “Everything in here is so expensive.”

“Price isn’t a concern,” I reply, waving my hand dismissively. “Just pick what you want, darling, and I’ll make sure you walk out of here with it.”

Her smile widens, but she holds up a finger. “No stealing, though.”

I chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She skips off again, coming back with a lovely green blue dress that reminds me of the ocean on a clear day. I want her to try it on and show me, but she refuses. “You’ll see it on our date,” she says, playfully crinkling her nose at me.

“As you wish.”

An hour or so later, we’ve gathered a few more things that she likes from various stores, and each time she swipes my card, she becomes more confident in my ability to afford all this. If she knew how much money I had, she probably wouldn’t believe it, but that’s for another time, perhaps. She’s my girlfriend, not my wife, after all.

Even considering that possibility gives me an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s not a bad one, just strange. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I’m not sure how to get it to go away. It’s like a thousand butterflies are trapped there, frantically fluttering their wings as they try to escape.

The only thing I can think of is to kiss Stella again, and she kisses me back with the same intensity as before. It’s easy to forget about the world when I’m with her. It’s like we’re the only people who exist.

That illusion fades quickly when we leave the shopping mall, driving back through increasingly busy streets. We return to the ship so that she can change, and then we make our way to a restaurant so upscale that it doesn’t appear on any regular map. You have to know somebody to get in, and in my case, I am that somebody.

This restaurant is located at the top of a hill. It’s all trees and greenery until the very top, where the dazzling wooden building is revealed. Guests are seated on the roof, and food gets cooked inside. It really feels like you’re eating in a giant treehouse with how the trees are incorporated into the design of the building.

“This is like something out of a dream,” Stella mutters as we’re dropped off by the driver.

There aren’t any cars allowed to park by the restaurant because the owner likes to maintain an appearance of isolation. We’re in our own jungle paradise here, where there’s nothing but good food, fine wine, and live jazz.

I’ve been here once before, but it’s a totally different experience bringing Stella. I’m excited for her to discover all the little details of how this place is put together. Seeing her this mesmerized puts a certain kind of happiness in my soul that can’t be emulated by anything else.

And seeing her in her new blue dress puts a bulge in my pants that’s not going to be satisfied by anything but claiming her before dessert is served. Condom or not, I’m making sure she knows who she belongs to tonight.

29

Stella

The heartfelt poetry of live brass instruments and piano warms my entire body as I walk arm in arm into the restaurant with Yuri. I’ve been told it doesn’t have an official name, but people are calling it The Treehouse.

I used to have a treehouse growing up. My dad built it for me when I was little, and my mom was always terrified that I would fall out and get hurt. I never did, but one time I got stuck there when it started raining, and my dad had to run out and get me.

I laugh when I think about it now, but when I was little, I felt like I was alone in the middle of the most dangerous storm on the planet. I feel a bit like that here in Jamaica, but being with Yuri is the strong hand of power and certainty that I need.

I’m going to be alright. I might even be more than alright if this beautiful date is anything to judge the future on.

The stairs up to the rooftop appear to be made from just a few enormous pieces of wood, carved out into steps and polished until I can see my face reflected in the grain as I look down at them.

The blue dress was a good choice, since almost everything in here is a glowing, amber-colored wood. I feel like a queen in her forest castle, rising up to the top to give a beautiful speech to the people she rules over.

I can see myself enjoying this level of luxury on a more permanent basis, but the moral predicament it’s put me in is uncomfortable, to say the least. I keep trying to forget about Clara, the woman I sentenced to most likely die at sea for what she did to Chekhov.

Was it the right thing to do? Did it even matter that I made the choice? Would Yuri have done something similar, or even worse, if I had said nothing?

And with all the people suffering in the world, why should I be up here in some luxurious treetop restaurant, enjoying a dinner that probably costs more than most people’s rent?

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