Page 54 of The Bratva's Secret Twins

“She’s off the grid, sir. It’s like she’s a ghost.”

One of the boys I’d hired to find her had said that to me.

I’d paid a lot of money—wasted a lot of money—and even gave her information to the underground black market for bounty hunters, but still nothing. The reward was huge for whoever found her and gave her to me, alive and well.

It was almost like Vivian Kennedy didn’t exist. I’d faked her death to hide her from the world, and now, she’d faked hers to hide from me. It was both impressive and frustrating.

How the hell had she managed that? She’d stayed hidden for four good years, and with all of my connections, all my power and influence, I couldn’t find her.

She was one hell of a woman. This was why I’d been drawn to her in the first place—the fact that she was so different from any other women I’d known.

Vivian had done what no one had ever done before: trick me, run away from me, and stay hidden for this long.

I didn’t understand why, in my dreams, I never saw myself being so rough and hard or harsh toward her until Andrei had asked me a question that made me pause to think for a minute.

“You haven’t been yourself since she left,” he said to me in my office. “It’s been four years, and she still has this effect on you.”

“She ran away from me, Andrei. No one runs away from me. She thinks this is a game, so I want to show her that I always win…. I never lose.” The words spewed out of me angrily.

“Do you want to get her back because you want to prove a point, that you always get what you want? Or is it possible that you want her back because you feel something more for her…something genuine?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You’ve been through something like this before with Vanessa, but the effect wasn’t this obvious.” He leaned closer. “It’s been almost half a decade, yet you can’t stop thinking about her. You’ve spent millions looking for her.” He looked me in the eye. “Everything you’ve done comes from a place that is different from what you’re used to.”

“What are you saying?” I inquired.

He leaned into his chair. “What I’m saying is that I think you’re in love with Vivian.”

His words cut through me like a knife.

“You love her, don’t you?”

It made sense that I did, that what I’d felt for her had grown and matured into something more than my sexual desire. More than anything else, I wanted her in my life.

I realized that Andrei was right, and it seemed like the reason my feelings for her had matured quickly over the years was because I was intrigued by her intelligence. The fact that she had managed to evade me was a clear indication that she matched my mental capacity. It meant that she was capable of handling the type of life that I led.

With her brains, she could manage and oversee my businesses even in my absence. What better partner could I ask for? With Vivian by my side, I would do exploits. I would be better and revered more than I already was.

It occurred to me that I wanted her back as something more than what I used to see her as: a sex mate. She was better than what I had given her credit for. If her ability to evade me had taught me anything, it was that she was a woman I would love to settle down with. She had all the qualities of a woman that I wanted.

She was sexy, smart, kind, and fierce. She had the guts to do what she thought was necessary. She was fearless and determined. With all these qualities, we would run the Bratva and be unstoppable—untouchable. Her words of wisdom would push the business to greater heights.

I wanted her, and every day, my desire to have her back with me grew stronger.

About two years after she’d left, I tried to forget her by going out with other women, but none of them seemed to be like Vivian. I was becoming a womanizer in a bid to get over the one person I craved but couldn’t have.

Womanizing wasn’t my thing. That was more of my cousin’s domain: Vladimir Wolkov. I couldn’t keep doing that, so I decided to bury myself in work, but even that didn’t help. Memories of her sexy body, her skin, her heavy breaths, and her cologne kept invading my mind at the most awkward of moments.

During business meetings, whenever I heard someone bearing her name, I would drift into the memory of her. Whenever I saw a woman who dressed or looked like her, I would find myself thinking about her.

Basically, everything reminded me of her, so how was I supposed to let go? How was I supposed to move on? I’d tried all that I could, done all that I could to find her, but it was futile. I’d decided to take a break and focus on forgetting her, but I couldn’t pull that off.

I felt helpless. She made me feel helpless. One woman, just one, messed with my brain and my sanity. She did what had never been done before in my life: She drove me crazy.

This was a clear sign that she was the one for me. Her ability to unlock this part of me that I hadn’t known existed was why I must find her again.

I’d taken her for granted, and she’d slipped through my fingers; I’d lost her. Now, I was paying the ultimate price.

---