Page 37 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

“Good. I’m going to just carry you around from now on. Then I won’t have to worry about women hitting on me, and most importantly, no man would ever dare hit on you.”

She laughs because she thinks I’m joking. I carry her back to the car more than ready to get her alone again.

Chapter11

Charlotte

The next couple of days pass by in an absolute blur of fucking and laughing. I’ve never been so happy in my life, and I try to ignore the fear that tries to creep in every now and then. I can get a happy ending, I tell myself. Lots of women do. Why can’t I be one of them? So what if my mom abandoned my dad and every boyfriend I’ve ever had has turned out to be a jerk? Happy marriages are out there. Hell, Vadim seemed pretty damn happy. I’ve never seen a man look so completely mesmerized while looking at a photograph. His amber eyes had softened, and you could just tell that he’d found his soulmate and that no other woman would ever be able to catch his eye. It’s the same look Mikhail gives me, and I’m not going to let that stupid voice in my head plant seeds of doubt.

I’ve just finished my pep talk when there’s a soft knock at the bedroom door. Mikhail had to go take care of a few things, and I’ve been reading and resting my foot. It’s getting better every day, and I can walk with just a slight limp. When I open the door, Lyudmila is standing there, her arms filled with boxes and a big smile on her face.

“For you,” she says in her thick accent.

I smile and take everything from her, thanking her before setting it all down on the bed. There’s a note attached to one of the boxes.

I’m taking you out tonight, beautiful. Be a good girl and put this on. I’ll be there to get you at seven.

I love you,

Misha

I’m smiling like an idiot by the time I finish reading. It’s five o’clock now, so that gives me plenty of time to shower and get ready. I open the biggest box first, letting out a soft gasp when I see the gorgeous black dress displayed inside. My fingers glide over the smooth fabric, and I’m guessing this cost an insane amount. I take it out and hold it against my body. Most dresses are too long for me, but this one falls exactly at my ankles and there’s one hell of a slit going up both sides. It has a low neckline, much lower than I’m used to, and I can already feel a blush rising. I’ve never dressed in anything so fancy in my life.

The other boxes reveal a black, lace thong, a matching garter belt, a pair of thigh highs, and the last box holds a pair of black leather ballet flats which makes me smile because he put enough thought into this to know my ankle would never be able to tolerate heels. I’m so excited I almost miss the small, velvet box on top of the tissue paper. It’s a blue box with a ribbon tied around it. I seeHarry Winstonwritten in delicate cursive along the ribbon.

Holy shit!

I suck in a quick breath and with trembling fingers, I open the small box, revealing the most beautiful diamond earrings I’ve ever seen. There’s a big diamond on top and then a dangling, teardrop-shaped diamond below. I run my fingers over the earrings, almost too afraid to touch them. I’ve held a lot of diamonds over the years, but none that made me feel like this. Those were someone else’s things, jewelry bought by ex-husbands that had been shoved aside and forgotten about, but this is precious to me. Mikhail picked these out just for me. No one’s ever given me something like this.

After several minutes, I gently close the box and tell myself to get my ass in gear. I don’t want Mikhail to show up and find me standing here like a moron in my old jeans and T-shirt with tears streaming down my cheeks. I leave everything on the bed and rush to the bathroom. His ridiculously huge shower is now filled with feminine smelling bath wash, shampoos, and conditioners along with the more masculine scents. I can’t resist sniffing his shampoo and smiling at the vivid memories it brings up. My whole body reacts to that woodsy, spicy scent, and even though I just saw him a few hours ago, I’m desperate to see him again.

Taking my time, I shave and lather up, and by the time I step out, I’m smelling amazing and soft as a baby’s ass. Wrapping a towel around my head and one around my body, I set to work on my face. Mikhail had taken me to my apartment so I could empty the place and let my landlord know I wouldn’t be back. I’d also let the restaurant know that I was quitting. It feels good seeing my few possessions mingling with Mikhail’s. Seeing our toothbrushes side by side, shouldn’t make me giddy, but it kind of does.

I settle on more makeup than I would usually wear, making my eyes a bit smoky and adding in the dark lipstick that I’d bought on a whim but never actually had the courage to wear. Bending over, I blow dry my hair, hoping to give it some volume. Once I’m ready from the neck up, I work on the lingerie. I’ve never worn a garter belt and thigh highs in my life, but I manage to figure it out. I search around for a bra, but there isn’t one. Eyeing the dress, I realize that there’s really no way to wear one without it showing, and I’m guessing that was Mikhail’s plan.

Slipping the dress on has me almost sighing when the soft, delicate fabric hits my skin. I’ve never worn anything even remotely as elegant as this. I may have a bunch of stolen money, but I’ve never once thought of myself as rich. I steal from others because I’m broke, and I stashed just about everything I stole for my future. I lived off my paychecks, and that means I barely got by and never had extra money for anything. My wardrobe consists of yoga pants, jeans, and T-shirts. This dress alone probably equals four of my paychecks.

I study myself in the bathroom mirror and can barely believe it. Despite showing off way more skin than I ever have, I don’t feel uncomfortable. I feel amazing. Sexy as hell, actually. God, I never knew clothes could give you a power trip like this. No wonder the movies always show beautiful women walking around in killer outfits, looking and acting like they rule the damn world. I do a slow spin in the mirror. A girl could definitely get used to this.

The finishing touch is the small blue box still sitting on the bed. Putting those gorgeous diamond earrings in makes me feel like a goddamn queen. I love every damn thing about them—the way they sparkle, the solid weight of them in my ears, and the soft feel of them as they gently sway with every turn of my head. I’ve just slipped the ballet flats on and given a groan of appreciation at how buttery soft they feel when the door opens and Mikhail walks in.

I thought I was looking good, but seeing him in that black suit is the perfect reminder that the man I’ve fallen in love with is a dangerous Bratva boss who looks deadly as fuck in an expensive suit. I’m frozen in place as he stalks towards me. His movements are equal parts grace and power, and by the time he’s standing in front of me, I’m more than ready to get naked again.

“You are breathtaking,zaichik,” he murmurs, making a slow circle around me. “You’ve always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and seeing you wearing something like this,” he gives a low whistle as he runs his fingers over my ass, making his way around until he’s standing in front of me, “it makes me want to fall to my knees and spend the rest of my life worshipping you.”

He brings his fingers around, running them up the front of my dress, stopping to graze them over my breasts until my nipples are taut and poking out against the soft fabric. With a groan he drags his fingers higher, running them over my collarbone and up my neck, giving my new earrings a soft touch and finally dragging them along my jawline.

“You’re an absolute work of art, sweetheart, but there’s just one thing missing.”

I look back at the empty boxes, wondering what I might’ve missed, but Mikhail just smiles and walks into his closet. He returns carrying a box that is all too familiar. I know exactly what’s inside that box, and when he opens it, showing me the diamond necklace that he’d found me holding in his closet, it’s even more beautiful than I remember. Unable to resist the pull, I run my fingers over all the sparkling diamonds.

“This has been in my family for generations,” he says, gently lifting it from the velvet interior. Tossing the wooden box on the bed, he unclasps it and comes to stand behind me. The heavy necklace rests against my chest, making my heart pick up when I think about how much damn money I’m wearing.

“And now it’s yours, baby,” he whispers against my ear.

“Mikhail,” I whisper, turning around to look at him. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

“It will never be enough,” he counters.

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