Page 16 of Dark Truths

“Good. You did good.” His fingers part me, his thumb gently finding my clit before he circles it once, twice, each time pulling a stuttering breath from me. He takes his time, touching me, feeling me, learning every inch of me before he dives two fingers inside me. I cry out, bucking against his erection as he curls his fingers inside me, brushing against the spot inside me that makes me moan uncontrollably.

My orgasm grows at the base of my spine. I’m so close to exploding, I’m panting with the need. “Please, Dimitri.”

He works me harder, his fingers pumping in and out of me as he commands, “Come for me.”

My vision goes black around the edges, and I see stars as I fall apart so hard and so deep, with a guttural moan. I shake in his hold, coming down from my high. I barely register Dimitri pulling my dress back down before he lifts me and then cradles me against his chest. He kisses my temple, the act so sweet and so opposite of what we just did that it feels like a complete one eighty.

“You did so well, angel,” he whispers into my hair, and I turn into him, humming in bliss at his praise and nickname. “But I need to ask one more very important thing from you.”

I feel so drunk right now, I’d give him anything. “Okay.”

“This needs to remain a secret between us. No one can know. Do you understand why?”

I nod. We don’t get the luxury of normal lives, free to do whatever we please. Like we said, I’m an Italian mafia princess and he is a Russian Bratva captain. Our families may be allies, but they will never understand this arrangement between Dimitri and I.

“Our secret.”

8

Dimitri

Buried deep in the woods of Florida’s wilderness is a cabin. Bought with cash and under layers of secret identities, it’s nothing extravagant or over the top. I doubt anyone would ever give the place a second look. But it’s mine.

It’s two stories, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, an office, and a loft overlooking the living space below. The decor is neutral but tasteful to match the updated look of the home. No pictures, no knickknacks, or anything of the sort that would tie the home to me. I have a cleaning lady and a lawn keeper, but they only come when I’m not there, ensuring that they never see my face.

It’s my haven from the city. My haven from the false face I wear every day. My haven from the Bratva, from the lies, the violence, and death.

When I first bought it, I hoped it would be my salvation. A place where I could remember the man I was before. Now it just serves as a pretty reminder of how I failed that man. Even whenthis is all over, the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done…it’s twisted me into a completely different man. I doubt the man I was before would even recognize me now…let alone like me.

No one knows about my cabin…until today.

My security system beeps, alerting me that something or someone has tripped my first proximity alarm. Which is a good five miles away. I have maybe me ten minutes or fewer before my uninvited guest arrives. I check the camera and see a black sedan driving down the dirt road. Swiping through the other cameras, I confirm the car came alone.

I quickly kill the lights and the cabin goes dark. Only the auxiliary power keeps the security system running. The car passes the two-mile proximity alarm as I holster two pistols. I’m slinging my rifle with scope over my shoulders and slipping outside to climb a tree with my man-made sniper nest when the car reaches the one-mile marker. Seconds later, a car’s headlight beams break through the treeline and a dark sedan pulls into the circle driveway out front.

Peering through the night vision scope, I wait patiently for my guest to reveal themselves. It could be an innocent civilian, lost and looking for directions. Or it could be a dozen other more deadly options. And since the odds favor the deadlier options, I’ll remain in my sniper nest, ready to bury a bullet between the eyes.

The car door opens, and a man steps out, his head bowed, obscuring his face. I don’t like it. When no one else emerges, I press a button on my rifle and a pretty little red dot appears on the man’s chest, right in line with his heart.

The man notices the dot and pauses before he scans his surroundings. “Really, Dimitri? This is how you treat an old friend?”

No. But this place is a secret.

“And why does this old friend know about my cabin in the woods?” I call out, keeping my friend in the crosshairs of my rifle, red dot and all.

“You haven’t checked in for a while. I got concerned.”

“Did you follow me?”

The man peers in my direction, but I know he can’t see me among the dark foliage. “I’m not proud to admit it, but yes.”

Dammit. There’s no way. I’m always careful when I come out here. “How?”

“I used a drone.”

“You motherfucker,” I growl. “Who else knows about this place?”

“No one.” He holds his hands up in the air like a visual promise. “I swear. I scrubbed the footage after I saw where you turned off the highway. After that, it wasn’t hard to find the place. It’s the only place in a ten-mile radius.”

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