Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (48 page)

Nodding, Jessica returned the woman’s hug even as she felt like the worst person in the world. “He…he would have been so happy.”

“I’m sure he’s here with you right now, and he’s overjoyed.”

Oh, the guilt was never ending, the pain so cruel she didn’t know if she could survive it.

“I miss him so much.”

The words came out in a harsh stutter, and she allowed herself the luxury of crying in Shannon’s arms. It took her a few minutes to get herself together, but when she did, she sucked in a deep, hitching breath and let it out, trying to feel something other than heartache and pain. She missed Alex every minute of every day, and her soul was dying without him.

However bad she felt, it must be nothing compared to what he was going through, and that made it all the worse, the knowledge that her husband was suffering. She’d read all the articles she could on the Internet about her death, but there hadn’t been much. Just that she’d died in a car accident and one lone picture from her funeral. She’d only seen Alex’s profile as he stood in the cemetery next to Dimitri, along with her Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary. Dimitri and Peter had been holding Alex up in the photo as though they had caught him falling to his knees next to her flower-covered coffin. That one image had been enough to make her want to go to him, to somehow tell him they were okay, but Jorg had men watching her, and she knew what would happen if she was caught trying to contact Alex. Krom had promised he would find her when it was safe so she had to trust him and play by Jorg’s insane rules.

If she didn’t, they’d kill her and take her daughter.

“Here’s your little girl,” a sweet young nurse said with a bright smile, handing Jessica the warm, wiggly bundle. “She has quite a set of lungs on her.”

Feeling the weight of her baby in her arms, she lost herself in the surreal fact that the little person she was touching had been in her belly less than fifteen minutes ago. The moment she saw Tatiana’s squished up little face, her entire being melted, her battered and wounded heart picking up pace as she carefully pulled the blanket back, meeting her daughter’s light blue eyes for the first time and instantly falling in love.

“She’s so beautiful,” she whispered in a raspy voice.

Shannon reached out and gently ran her fingertip over Tatiana’s head before placing a small pink hat on the fussy newborn. “She has your hair.”

Indeed she did, a fine patch of peach-colored down covered her baby’s perfect little head. Not knowing why she did it, Jessica cradled her baby close and took a deep inhalation of her scent, and the warmth in her heart began to spread then melted away the ice. When she pulled back, she found that Tatiana had calmed and was looking at her with bright, curious eyes.

Placing dozens of soft kisses all over her daughter’s face and head, Jessica whispered, “Hello, beautiful girl. I’m your mother, and I love you more than anything in this world.”

A little over two years later

Jessica was on her lunch break when it happened.

As usual, her head was full of facts and figures as she mentally went over one of her accounts, not really paying attention to the world around her. It was another beautiful day in Miami, the sun was shining, delicious food smells mixed with the exhaust of cars from the nearby street, and everyone was bustling about the downtown area. Dressed in a light cream suit and black heels with a yellow bow at the back, Jessica blended in with the rest of humanity, going with the flow of the foot traffic as she made her way to her favorite Cuban restaurant to grab the lunch she’d already ordered.

When she’d first been set up with her new identity, she had no idea how extensive her new life was. Not only did she have a new name, but she also had a history that included a financial degree and an awesome credit score. At first, she felt guilty about the fake degree, but she was only three semesters away from having that kind of degree for real anyway. Her new background story was so solid she’d been able to get a job at a prominent local bank working in their fraud department. The irony that she was working in fraud detection while being a total fake wasn’t lost on her, but she was managing to build a quiet, comfortable life for herself and her daughter while being able to work part-time two days a week.

As she stood waiting for a light to change, she turned her face up to the sun and let its warmth seep into her. She was feeling stronger than she had in a long time, thanks in no small part to her nanny, Gwen’s, positive influence. Gwen was the daughter of her midwife, Shannon, and was amazing with Tatiana. The cute half-Dominican woman was two years younger than Jessica, but a total free spirit who managed to always look on the bright side of things.

In what felt like her past life, Jessica had viewed herself as an optimist, but since being forced to leave Alex, her view of the world had become very jaded. Now, she suspected everyone of nefarious intentions, and her ability to trust had been almost completely destroyed. Whenever she met someone new, she always wondered if they were one of Jorg’s spies or if they were somehow involved in criminal dealings. Paranoia was her new normal, and she had to work hard against it to keep from becoming a complete shut-in. Had she been alone, she might have sequestered herself from the world with only her memories to keep her company, but Tatiana deserved better.

Jessica was daydreaming about taking her daughter to the Miami Zoo this weekend when someone walking behind her pushed her, hard. Before she could fall, another man was there, catching her then shoving her into the backseat of a waiting limo. Her scream was muffled by another man, this one probably in his fifties with a thick head of gray hair, clasping his hand over her mouth. She tried to kick, to claw, to scratch, but the limo was already pulling out into traffic. In less than fifteen seconds, she’d been snatched off the street.

The man removed his hand, but before she could draw in a breath, a white cloth was placed over her mouth and the acrid fumes knocked her out.

As she slowly shook off the drugs enough to wake fully, she had no idea how much time had passed, only that she was tied to a somewhat comfortable chair in an empty room with pale wood floors and deep green walls illuminated by a bare bulb overhead. A large television was set up in front of her, but other than that, the room was bare. There was a single window, but it only looked out over a nondescript, darkened expanse of what was probably the back yard. She took a deep breath and managed to keep her panic at bay. It was imperative that she keep her cool. Tatiana was counting on her so she had to think, had to find a way out.

She’d obviously been kidnapped, but not harmed other than being tied to this chair. All of her clothes were still in place, but her shoes were missing. Flexing her hands, she attempted to wiggle out of the ropes but there was absolutely no give to them. Fear made a harsh, stinging sweat break out over her body as she wondered if one of the Novikov’s enemies had found her.

The door opened, and the same man who’d drugged her walked in, his expression completely closed down, his dark eyes lifeless.

“I see you are awake.”

His English was good, but the Russian accent immediately sent her into a panic. “Please, please, let me go.”

He frowned, and another man entered the room, this one also older with a balding head and a dark gray suit.

His smooth, uninflected voice filled the room. “Ms. Venture, or should I say Ms. St. Cloud, there is no need for hysterics. We will let you go, unharmed, after we have delivered Mr. Novikov’s message. You will not be hurt. You have my word.”

All the strength left her body, and she sagged back into the chair. Shit, had Jorg somehow known that she’d been considering contacting Alex? Had he sensed the chains he’d put on her to keep her from her husband were weakening? Her love for Alex hadn’t faded, not in the least, and she dreamed about him every night. The longer she was away the more she questioned her decision, wondering if she’d played right into Jorg’s hands. The only thing that had held her back was the knowledge that Krom, who she’d seen with Alex in some recent pictures on-line, hadn’t contacted her.

She licked her dry lips. “What is his message?”

Instead of answering, he took a remote control out of his pocket.

Her breath came out in harsh pants, the sound filling the room while the TV was turned on and the video started. At first, she had trouble making sense of it. The video was shot from a distance, and the photographer kept shifting around, the jerky motions making her head hurt. When he finally settled and zoomed in, she stopped breathing all together. Oleg stood before a white, closed coffin covered in flowers with his sobbing wife on one arm and his youngest daughter on the other. They looked to be in a funeral home of some kind, and massive amounts of elaborate floral arrangements surrounded the casket. The camera panned to the left, and she saw a huge picture of Oleg’s sixteen-year-old daughter, also draped in flowers and wreathed in black silk.

“Oh my God,” Jessica whispered, her nose burning as tears fell. “Kia’s dead?”

She remembered hanging out with Oleg’s two giggling, light-hearted daughters and their equally happy mother in Ireland. Kia had been the quieter of the two girls, more apt to have her nose buried in a book than her active sister. The bittersweet memory of the young girl shyly asking Jessica if she could feel the baby move ripped through her, and she looked away from the screen, unable to handle witnessing the grief twisting Oleg’s face as he led his hysterical wife and wailing daughter away from the coffin.

“I don’t understand. What happened?”

The American glanced at her then back at the screen. “Two weeks ago, Kia was killed in a drive-by shooting that was meant for Oleg.”

“That’s terrible,” she gasped.

“It is. Mr. Novikov wanted you to see this to remind you how important it is for you to stay away from Alexandr, and not just for your own sake.”

“I have been!” she shouted, trying not to see the screen playing out the funeral from the corner of her eye as she held the American man’s gaze.

“If you do not,” he continued like she’d never spoken, “if Mr. Novikov feels that you are trying to contact Alexandr in any way, Tatiana will be taken from you and given to someone who can keep her safe, and you will never see her again.”

“No.” Her words came out in a whisper, the fear she felt now eclipsing everything. “No, please, please, no. I haven’t contacted him. I’ll never contact him. I promise, I swear. Please don’t take my daughter.”

He held up his hand, cutting off her begging, his face an impassive mask as if he was doing a particularly boring chore, not threatening her child. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

With that he turned and left, ignoring her sobs as she cursed Jorg Novikov bitterly, hating him more than she’d ever hated anyone as Kia’s funeral played in the background.

Siberia

Dimitri squinted his eyes against the glare of the bleak winter landscape, looking for his brother, out there somewhere, training his men.

With the wind stirring up the snow and slapping it against his face in little stinging pellets, Dimitri braved the elements to stalk his way across the open field. Since a few months after Jessica’s death, Alex had sequestered himself at the Novikov’s Siberian training outpost, isolating himself from a world he could no longer endure. The loss of his wife and unborn daughter had almost entirely killed his heart, and their father ground out whatever life that might’ve remained with his heel.

Rage flashed through Dimitri, warming him as he slogged through the calf-high snow. The sight of Alex, beaten bloody, replayed on a loop Dimitri couldn’t stop. Their father’s men, on his delusional orders, had tried to torture the whereabouts of the Boldin twins from his brother. Alex didn’t know. He’d only rescued them and delivered the girls to his uncle Petrov. Alex wasn’t part of the planning for the next step, so he couldn’t confess anything.

Luckily, Mimi Stefano, known in some circles as Lady Death, had been staying with Jorg at the time and had managed to track Alex down and free him before killing his torturers and contacting Dimitri.

He had gotten his brother to a private clinic where he was eventually stabilized enough to know the truth about what had happened while he was unconscious. Dimitri was at the clinic with him when Alex found out the terrible news that Jessica, along with their unborn child, had died in a car bombing in Ireland. It had been one of the worst moments of his life, and Dimitri still winced at the memory of Alex’s inhuman roars of grief.

Just the recollection of Oleg’s voice breaking as he relayed the news had caused Dimitri’s throat to burn while he’d looked at his brother sleeping in his hospital bed, knowing that when Alex found out his reason for living was gone he was going to lose his mind.

Dimitri had not been wrong.

After burying his family and spending a great deal of time and effort trying to track down those responsible for their deaths, Alex had left for Siberia a broken man. He didn’t answer anyone’s calls, including their father’s. On some level, Dimitri understood that their father had been acting under the influence of someone messing with his medications, but he couldn’t help but hate the old man for his role in Jessica’s death.

He wished he could let his brother mourn up here forever, but Dimitri needed him desperately. The Novikov
Bratva
had gained a lot of new territory when they took over what the Gilyov
Bratva
used to own. Alex had embarked on a path of vengeance, and his men had followed, eager to avenge Jessica’s death on anyone who might be involved in any way. The men took her loss hard, especially Oleg, Maks, and Krom. Krom had been shot in the head during the Boldin’s attempt on Alex’s old home in Ireland, but the injury had only affected his memory a bit and hadn’t done permanent damage to his body. Emotionally, Krom had been devastated that Jessica had died during his watch, and Dimitri knew it tore his friend apart that he couldn’t remember what happened.