Page 19 of Pregnant Bratva Virgin

“Ah, okay. If you say so. You’re welcome.” He leaves, probably scarred for life and putting my apartment on his list of places not to deliver to. I step out into the hallway, Ryurik has vanished into thin air. He came to put me in my place, and as I double lock my doors, I wonder if I’m going to be able to sleep asI slide down the back of the door with my bag in hand. Shitty day is an understatement.

“That’s what happens to cops who try to dig up dirt on me.”

Chapter Ten - Ryurik

Down on the streets paved below is every retail luxury item you can ever want to find, but the luxury item I want singing out my name in bed is Emily Wilson. But I can’t have the detective. For one—she wants me behind bars, and the other is, I can’t bed a scorned detective who wants to use me as a notch under her career belt.

She’s too young to be where she is. How did she get to that level in homicide already? That means she’s taken others down. She would have had to; otherwise, how did she get to that spot?What cases?The obsession taking over my mind shifts, trying to frame the jigsaw puzzle of her career rise together. Not only her career, but the world she exists in.

If she wants to destroy mine and has a file on me, then I want to know every aspect that makes Emily Wilson’s soul tick… but I can’t fight the growing attraction that’s planted itself inside me like a toxic weed.

If it weren’t there stopping me somehow, I would be inclined to shoot her between the eyes like I did Willy Dee and drag her out the back of the club. But now isn’t the right time. I have to let the dust settle. A smile creeps on my face when I think about my hands folding into her soft curves in the shower, the hotel shower gel still lingering in my psyche.

God.She felt like human velvet when I touched her. I adjust my crotch sucking in air. I’m not about to lose out on impressing the Pakhan for my spot, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun in the meantime and make Emily’s life a little more… let’s say colorful and terrifying as a cute punishment. I sit in contemplation, planning out my first attack, watching the peopleof Magnificent Mile go about their empty days filling up their shopping bags.

She duped me.A fucking detective, and there has to be men after her. She can’t be poured into her uniform every day looking that damn sexy and not be receiving excess attention.

Did she sleep her way into the position? Is that how she made it. Anger collects in a ball of fire inside my chest when I think about her being handled by some other male. She’s put a dirty cop spell on me. That’s what it is.

The woman isn’t the innocent fawn in the woods I thought she was.No. She’s more like a beautiful cunning tiger. One who I need to hunt and hang on my wall for sport. I find myself panting when I think about doing her one more time.

Closing my eyes, I let myself think about letting her breast drop in my mouth. She tasted every bit as good as she looked, but I jump out of the memory recognizing I gave her something I shouldn’t have. A kiss. Something I’ve never invited any woman to experience when I’ve fucked them.

She witnessed a deep part of intimacy I didn’t want any woman to see or feel.I let her in.All the way in, and now I’m addicted to experiencing that again. Her sweet mouth on mine, and not regretting it. We weren’t fucking then. Not in that pocket of time. We were bonding, and I got lost in her. Losing my head, wanting to fall deeper and deeper down the hole with her.

But I only let myself do that because I didn’t think I would ever see her again.

That’s how I justified letting down my dark curtain. I didn’t want to believe I could let a woman do what she did. She didn’t cower in the corner when I violated the entry of her apartment.No.She took on the challenge. She could have calledthe police department. Or she could have fired behind my head as a warning shot, but she held firm, the gun in her hand.

Who are you, Emily Wilson?I can dismantle her existence and turn her into a pile of human dust, and she’ll end up being part of the pile of skeletons with the other lost officers in the Chicago Police Department. No other has challenged me like she has, and I don’t like that one little bit.

It’s too bad that from the minute I stepped foot in the courtroom, I knew I’d win. The good judge and I shared history. It was the same judge I’d faced ten years ago for a drug trafficking charge and got off. You see, Judge Baron Davidson could empathize as he endured his own addiction problems. Except his led him to strippers and placing himself in compromising positions that made up part of the fabric of the Omerta Files. One of the singular best discoveries for the entire Bratva network to control and manipulate the higher ups.

Not that any of these habits would be under a microscope to such a degree if he weren’t a high-ranking judge for the last twenty-five years, but his livelihood was at stake, and from the moment I locked eyes with him, I saw the fear there, and knew I’d won. He wouldn’t risk the embarrassment and public shaming if his sordid details were leaked via the press.

Smirking, I stood, going through the formalities as William Dee’s family wept in the courtroom gallery as the case was dismissed.

“Due to a significant lack of evidence, this case is now dismissed. If it is to be reopened, substantial evidence will need to be presented. I trust we will find the detective’s killer and lay this horrible mysterious death to rest.” But even as he said the words, Judge Baron knew, and I knew that I was the one who killed him.

“Ryurik.” Viktor’s harsh tone slices through my thoughts.

“Hey. What’s up?” I stand up, getting too lost in her. I’ve got work to do and a business to run, but Emily hasn’t been too far away from my mind ever since I saw her again. It’s not as if I forgot her after our night, but I had gotten her to the point where she’d faded enough into the background. The same place where all the other women died off until I laid another one underneath me.

“You’ve got a meeting request.”

“With who?”

“Paul Butcher. You know that guy you wanted to talk to about distribution in casinos? It could be a very, very lucrative arrangement if you can swing it the right way. Will give you a little more credit when the time comes,” Viktor advises. He’s my lieutenant, and he keeps me informed, but sometimes I feel as if I’m not closer to the boss seat than when I started my climb years ago. But that’s the thing about the Bratva. Once you put your foot in the mud, you can’t get out. And I don’t want to. I’m built for this game, and this life, but I wish for it to be easier sometimes.

“Ah. Paul. From Vegas. Yes. I want to talk to him.” I met him at a Bratva meeting a long time ago, and he wanted to do business then, but the men he was surrounded by were the wrong type of thugs. They were stupid and dumb Italian mobsters with old rubbish tactics that needed to be changed long ago, but he did interest me.

“Yeah, I think it would be worth it. He’s in with the MGM Grand Casino in Vegas. If you can get in there, the Bratva can make a killing. It would give you the opportunity you’ve been looking for. To go from Vor to Pakhan,” Viktor proposes as my mind gets back on track.

“Yes.” That’s if the Pakhan wants to give me the chance. Ivan can do it now, but he doesn’t think I’m worthy. Resentmentbrews when I think about how I’ve slaved for him, and when the title will be bestowed on me. I took the Vor v Zakone seriously and have maintained my oath as promised.

I cool down my thoughts, thinking strategically about what might best appease him. “He’s got links to the gaming commissioner, and she’s a woman. If he can get me a meeting with her, we might have a deal. This would be a new venture.”

“Well, an expanded venture. We worked through the schools.”

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