Page 12 of Twisted Obsession
“No,Pakhan. No one knows anything. The men watching over the shipment were taken by surprise. Everything was going as planned until the warehouse was raided. They got away with the entire shipment.” Stepan lowered his head with regret. “They knew what they were doing. It’s as if it was planned.”
“What about the security cameras? Certainly, they should have picked up something,” I asked.
“It’s gone. Completely erased,” Yerik announced. “They knew the layout of the warehouse and knew exactly where the security room was. Someone within our ranks is a traitor.”
“Losing these shipments is not good for business, Dmitri,” my uncle spoke sternly. “Maybe taking over the position ofPakhanhas displaced your focus on what matters most.”
“I want the names of every man who was on duty. I don’t care what it takes. I want to find out what they know, one by one. I’m not in the position to lose any more shipments.” I pounded my fist on the table, bringing everyone’s attention to me while giving my uncle an unforgiving glare.
The meeting ended, and the only one who stayed behind was my uncle. Walking over to the corner of my desk, he poured himself a glass of vodka from the crystal decanter. “I think the Zhukov woman has become a distraction for you. You need to marry that woman, get her with child and delivered of it, and then be done with her.”
I knew my uncle was right. But there was still one thing weighing on my mind ever since we learned that Andrei killed my father and we found Lidia Zhukov in a pool of blood. We never found Andrei’s body.
I pushed from the table and approached my uncle, who had taken my place behind my desk. Pouring myself a drink, I downed half of it before settling in the chair in front of the massive desk and looked at my uncle. “There’s something I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?” he replied, keeping his eyes on me.
“When Stepan and I arrived at the Zhukov estate, only Lidia Zhukov’s body lay rotting in a pool of blood. There was no sign of Andrei or his body. I just think it’s strange. No one has mentioned him, and no one has claimed responsibility for his death.”
“You need to stop this shit! You’ve been dwelling on your father’s death for three years. Andrei Zhukov is dead. You need to get your head out of your ass and focus on marrying Larissa and getting her pregnant.” He slammed his drink onto the desk, sending most of the remaining vodka flying from the glass.
No matter what my uncle thought, I would never stop looking for Andrei, whether or not he was dead.
~***~
If there was one thing I despised, it was being told what to do. My uncle, a seasoned veteran in the business, had years of experience over me, but he still needed to learn to trust my instincts. Even though his intentions were protective, he had to understand that I needed the freedom to make my own mistakes.
Leaving my study, I realized it was time to check on my defiantkukolka, my doll. I ascended the stairs, taking themtwo at a time, my mind replaying the last visit to this room. I recalled the unexpected fight in her, the shocking moment when she kneed me in the groin, catching me completely off guard. I vowed that mistake would never happen again. Yuri stood vigilantly at the door, just as I had instructed.
“Sir,” he acknowledged me with a nod, stepping aside to let me pass.
When I had left the room earlier, Larissa had been hurling curses at me, labeling me a monster and a murderer. Now, four hours later, the only sound that reached my ears was her soft, relentless crying. Her suffering was of no importance to me. I wasn’t a man capable of compassion; I had mourned the loss of many of my finest men, attending each of their funerals with a heavy heart. I had witnessed the grief etched on the faces of their wives and children, a sight that tore me in two. But when it came to Larissa, I had no time for the tears she shed.
I slipped the cold metal key into the lock and turned it, pushing the door open with a firm hand. Larissa’s eyes locked onto mine, her expression of pain morphing into one of seething hatred. She began to struggle against her restraints, the raw, angry marks around her wrists a testament to her relentless fight.
“Are you back to get off on me to satisfy your disgusting perversion or are you going to kill me just like you did my mama and papa?” she spat, her gaze never wavering from mine, each word dripping with venom.
The irony was almost too rich to bear—she lay there, pointing her finger at me, blaming me for the very crime that her own father had committed against mine. A laugh, dark and velvety, escaped my lips as I leaned in, close enough to feel herbreath hitch. I reached out, slowly, deliberately, and swept away a stray hair that had become plastered to her cheek, clinging there like a desperate, lonely thing. I couldn’t explain what drove me, but I needed to touch her again, to feel that spark against my fingertips.
“Mykukolka, little doll,” I murmured, my voice a low growl. “You are mistaken. I had no part in your father’s or your mother’s death.”
Even with rivulets of tears carving paths down her cheeks, she was still the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Every line, every curve of her was exquisite perfection. It was a shame that once she had given me what I desired, I would have no further use for her.Or perhaps, I mused,I would keep her for myself.
“You’re a fucking liar,” she spat, her voice laced with venom.
My hand found its way to her neck, my fingers wrapping around her slender throat. I had had enough of her foul mouth. “I am many things, Larissa, but a liar is not one of them. If you continue to disrespect me with your filthy words, I will have no choice but to silence you by shoving my cock down your throat. I bet you would enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
I kept my grip on her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch, while my other hand began to explore her body. I cupped her perfectly shaped breasts through her lacy bra, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, never breaking eye contact. Her hatred for me only served to fuel the fire of desire burning within me, making me crave her even more.
Sliding my hand lower, I felt her body tremble beneath my touch. But behind the hatred in her eyes, I could see the unmistakable glimmer of want as I inched my hand beneath her panties and between her legs. I teased her slick folds, finding her clit and circling it gently, drawing a soft, involuntary moan from her lips.
“You are so wet for me,” I rasped, leaning over to tug her earlobe between my teeth. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you’re going to forget your own name,kukolka.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, venom lacing her voice as she vainly tried to squirm away from the pleasure I was about to inflict. Her eyes blazed with a mix of defiance and desire; a combination that only served to further ignite my own lust.
I gently slid one finger into her, and she gasped sharply at the invasion. She was so tight, her walls clamping down on my digit, and I couldn’t help but imagine how exquisite it would feel to have my cock buried deep within her. Adding another finger, I began to pump them in and out of her tight, velvety heat, a smile playing on my lips as she involuntarily mimicked the movements, her hips undulating in sync with my rhythm. When I found that special spot, the one I was sure no man had ever reached, I curled my finger and stroked it over and over again, her slick walls gripping me tightly.
“You like that, don’t you,shlyukha, slut?” I growled, my voice low and feral as I twisted my hand, placing my thumb on her clit. I pushed and circled the sensitive nub until her release was mine to command. “Do you want me to continue?”
