Page 22 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But I’m not taking any chances. Nikolai always played the “I am stupid” game, and as you can see, he is very much alive and thriving. I want to know everything about him. What he eats. What he drinks. Who he fucks and how. Everything. Do you understand?”

As I left the restaurant and made my way back to the car, my thoughts drifted back to Katya. I had spent years burying the pain, but Nikolai’s words had stirred it back up again. On the other hand, it was the anger that kept me going every day.

The car ride back to the mansion was tense, my mind still swirling with the conversation I had with Nikolai. I stared out the window, my thoughts turning over every detail, every word. Weaker. Those words echoed in my mind, stoking a fire deep inside me. Nikolai’s offer wasn’t about friendship—it was about power.

And he thought he could make a move on me, use our past to get under my skin. But he didn’t know me anymore. What a moron.

As the car pulled into the driveway, I stepped out, my focus already shifting. I had other things to think about now. The meeting had left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on it. Not when there were bigger threats lurking in the shadows.

And then there was her. Anna. As I walked through the house, I found myself heading toward the garden, the tension from the meeting with Nikolai still coiled tight in my chest. I needed a moment to think, to clear my head. But as I turned the corner, I stopped in my tracks.

Anna was standing near one of the large windows that overlooked the garden, the soft light of the setting sun casting a warm glow around her. She was staring out, lost in thought, her posture relaxed yet somehow filled with a quiet tension.

My breath caught in my throat.

She was beautiful. Maybe it was the vodka talking in me, but her beauty wasn’t just physical; it was in the way she carried herself, in the strength she didn’t even realize she had.

For a moment, I considered telling her everything. The truth about who she was, why I had kept it from her. Rossi’s daughter. If she knew, maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d see that all of this—the control, the secrecy—was for her protection. But the truth was dangerous. And if she knew too much, the people after her would use that knowledge to destroy her. To be honest, in the beginning it was all about power and control for me; now it’s about protection.

If they found out who she was, they wouldn’t keep her alive. They’d force her to sign away everything—her assets, her legacy—and then they’d execute her. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to keep her close, had to keep her safe, even if it meant keeping her in the dark.

I stepped forward, my footsteps soft as I approached her. She didn’t notice me at first, too lost in her thoughts. When I was close enough, I reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

She turned, startled at first, but when she saw me, her expression softened. “Maxim,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I just stood there, staring at her, my hand still resting on her shoulder. The warmth of her skin beneath my fingers sent a shiver through me, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

“You look… beautiful,” I said, my voice low, almost rough. It wasn’t something I said often, and it felt foreign on my tongue, but it was the truth. She was breathtaking.

Anna blushed, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink as she looked away, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured, clearly caught off guard by my words.

I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. The air between us felt charged, thick with unspoken things. I could see the questions in her eyes, the confusion, the curiosity. She wanted answers, but I couldn’t give them to her. Not yet.

Her brows furrowed, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her by gently cupping her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek. “This world… it’s dangerous, Anna. Do not step away from this house. Do you understand? Do not. This is an order.”

Her piercing gaze searched my eyes, as if trying to read the truth behind my every word. I could see the frustration in her, the need for answers burning inside her, but I also saw something else—something softer, something that mirrored the pull I felt towards her.

“I am not your prisoner,” she said through clenched teeth, her voice dripping with resentment and defiance.

But I shook my head, a dangerous smile playing on my lips as I replied, “No. You are not. You are mine.”

She frowned, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she stepped closer, her hand resting on my chest as if daring me to push her away. But her touch sent sparks through my entire body, igniting a fire within me that I couldn’t control. "And who's going to protect me from you?" she asked with a hint of fear in her voice that only fueled my desire.

For a moment, I couldn’t answer. My mind was consumed by the truth that she needed protection from me just as much as she needed it from the outside world. I had taken control of her life,manipulated her to keep her close, but now... now, I was losing control in a different way.

Without hesitation, I leaned down, and our lips met in a soft and tentative kiss. In that moment, all the tension and anger between us melted away into nothingness. It was just her—just us.

Our kiss deepened with each passing second, becoming more urgent and demanding as we both gave into the overwhelming desire between us. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, pulling her flush against me as our bodies responded to each other in ways that neither of us could control. Her fingers tangled in my hair, and I groaned softly before finally breaking the kiss.

I wanted her. I needed her. And for once, I didn't care about control, or power, or anything else. All I wanted was to lose myself in her.

Without breaking our intense gaze, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her towards the bedroom. She didn't protest, she didn't try to pull away. Instead, she pressed closer, her lips still locked with mine as if we were made for this—made for each other.

As I carried her to the bedroom, my hands shook with a raw, primal need that had been simmering beneath the surface for what felt like forever. Each step was deliberate, slow, my lips trailing fire over her exposed skin, igniting a desperate hunger in both of us. She whimpered softly, her hands gripping my shoulders as if holding on for dear life. I felt her pulse quicken beneath my lips, her body arching into me with every touch. She was already mine—completely—and yet, I wanted more. I needed more.

When I laid her down on the bed, she looked up at me with pleading eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her skin flushed and warm beneath the dim glow of the room. She didn’tneed to say anything. The way her body trembled beneath me was all the encouragement I needed.

My fingers traced up the inside of her legs, teasing her, drawing out soft gasps as her hips lifted toward me. Every inch of her skin seemed to burn under my touch, and the soft, desperate sounds that escaped her lips only drove me further. I wanted to devour her, to make her forget everything but this moment, this feeling, me.

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