Brie Masters Love in Submission: Submissive in Love (97 page)

It was something that Brie actually appreciated, since she was with Rytsar. Once the stewardesses finished fawning over the Russian Dom and had retired to their stations, Brie turned to him and asked, “What happened with the girl from America after she revealed your name? Has there been any fallout from it?”

He shook his head, an amused look on his face. “You Americans…”

“What?”

“So tenacious.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“It’s not her, it’s your damn reporters. Every few weeks, a new one shows up at my door begging for an exclusive interview.”

“So they know where you live now?” Brie asked with concern.

“It was only a matter of time,
radost moya
. Thankfully, no serious professionals, just little girls sent from the entertainment side of your news. So strange, the fascination you Americans have with celebrities…”

Brie lowered her voice, “Have you heard from the Russian police?”

“
Nyet
. Although I’m getting too much attention, having young female reporters from America hound me weekly has only made me a target for jest.”

Brie sat back in her chair, sighing with relief. “I’m glad to hear it, Rytsar. I’ve really been worried.”

He confided, “I’ve been tempted to show a few of the obstinate ones my true interests when they flirt so outrageously, hoping to get an interview. However, I do not think they could handle it.”

“I agree,” Brie said, laughing. “Most girls think being tickled with a feather is kinky. They have no idea what they’d be in for with you.”

Rytsar’s expression changed when he shared, “The girl, Stephanie, did send me a letter. I have not answered it because it would only complicate matters, but I keep it with me.” Rytsar pulled out his leather wallet and took out a folded note, handing it to Brie.

She unfolded the letter, noticing the perfect penmanship, and wondered how many times the girl had rewritten it, wanting it to be flawless.

Dear Rytsar Durov,

I have not been able to stop thinking about you and what you did for me.

It’s hard being back home. I’m not the same person. No one understands me. Only someone who was there could know how I feel.

I know it’s stupid, but every day I listen for a knock on the door, hoping you are there to rescue me from this strange existence. I feel so alone. You told me I am a survivor and that has helped me on those days when nothing makes sense.

I feel so ungrateful, because you have done so much for me. How can one person ever truly repay another for saving their life? I would do anything, give anything to do just that for you. Please, Rytsar, tell me what I can do. It would make me so happy to fulfill the debt I owe you.

Sincerely, Stephanie

“She is on the edge,
radost moya
. This letter is like taking a peek into Tatyana’s soul.” He glanced at the letter, stating, “It hurts me to read it.”

Brie wrapped her arms around him. His whole body was tense, the muscles of his arms shaking with unreleased emotion. “She’ll be okay,” she assured him.

“I have sent a counselor to her, one who has much experience with freed sex slaves, but I’m uncertain whether it will be enough.”

“You have done more than most people would ever do, Rytsar. You have to trust she can recover from it.”

He looked at her, all his defenses down. “Do you know what my given name is?”

“No. Sir never told me.”

Rytsar smiled. “He is a trustworthy comrade.”

The Russian’s intense blue gaze caused her to momentarily stop breathing when he spoke. “When my mother passed, I refused to be called by the name she’d given me, preferring my title instead.” He looked down at her tenderly. “I would like to hear it spoken from your lips.”

“What is your given name?”

“Anton.”

Brie placed her hand on his square jaw and smiled when she said it. “Anton.”

Tears came to his eyes. “Thank you,
radost moya
.”

Rytsar folded up the letter and placed it back in his wallet. He stared out the window, seemingly lost in a sea of past pain and regret.

Priceless one…
Brie knew that was the meaning of his name and could appreciate the power it must have over him. His mother was gone—how or why was still a mystery to Brie, but she suspected it had everything to do with his father.

Don’t give up,
Stephanie,
Brie called out in her head, sending positive thoughts to the girl he’d rescued.
People are counting on you to survive.

Rytsar’s demeanor changed once they landed in Chengdu. He stayed beside her, his hand gripping the back of her neck. It was a very possessive hold that let others know to stay away.

“It’s okay, Rytsar,” Brie said, looking up at him. “I’ve been here before. It’s a safe city.”

He shook his head. “
Nyet
. There are human traffickers looking for foreigners like you. You are
not
safe.”

Brie quickly scanned the airport in shock, wondering as each person passed which one held evil intentions behind their stoic expression. It was a frightening thought that Brie had never considered.

She could not hold back her excitement, however, when she recognized a familiar face in the sea of Chinese. “May I?” she asked Rytsar.

He released his hold, and Brie ran straight for Sir, nearly tripping over herself in her haste.

“Slow down, babygirl.”

Brie buried her head in his chest, sighing with relief.

“Did Durov treat you well?” Sir asked, sounding concerned.

“I was the model of decorum,” Rytsar answered as he walked up.

“He was, Sir. I’m just thrilled to see you.”

Sir shook Rytsar’s hand. “Thank you for taking care of her. I’ve had enough to worry about.”

“How did it go in New York?” Rytsar asked.

“It was worse than I imagined, but it’s done. Time to face the last unpleasant task.”

“
Moy droog
, keep your eye on the prize. You’re to be married in a few days.”

Sir looked down at Brie. “I hope it’s everything you’ve dreamed of.”

“If I’m marrying you, it will be.”

He ruffled the top of her head. “Good, because I questioned the location, although I know it means a lot to your parents.”

Brie shot a look at Rytsar, hoping to see a look of amusement, but he just smiled sympathetically at Brie.

Oh, wow, I really am getting married in Nebraska…

She sighed, realizing it didn’t matter. Although she had hoped for someplace exotic, as long as Sir was the groom, she could have her wedding in the middle of a garbage dump and still be happy.

“What are the plans for today?” Rytsar asked him.

“We go to the hotel and partake of your favorite beverage. Tomorrow I will face my demons.”

Brie took Sir’s hand in hers and squeezed it. A silent reminder that she would be with him every step of the way.

Brie hadn’t seen Ruth since the meeting at Mr. Thompson’s office, and was unprepared when she walked into the luxurious private hospital room. Sir had spared no expense keeping the woman comfortable, despite her condition.

But it wasn’t the accommodations that threw Brie off, it was Ruth herself. It was as if time had stood still, just as Sir had described—like Sleeping Beauty in the fairy tale. Ruth looked as if she were resting peacefully, a slight smile on her pink lips. It was disturbing on so many levels.

Brie could finally sympathize with Lilly for believing Ruth was still alive, because it truly seemed she might wake up at any moment. No wonder Sir had struggled with this decision…

A woman walked in wearing a crisp white outfit. She stopped short when she saw them and hastily explained, “I am here to do Madame’s daily exercises.”

“It’s not needed anymore,” Sir told her.

The woman bowed her head and left the room.

Brie felt tears threatening when she saw the look on Sir’s face. It was killing him inside to do this. She put her arm around him in support.

“I hate you,” he said, his voice full of venom as he stared down at his mother. “I hate that you are making me do this. I want to slap that fucking smirk off your face.”

Rytsar slapped Ruth’s face hard, the sickening sound of it echoing in the room.

“Why did you do that?” Brie asked in horror.

Rytsar told Sir, “She’s not here,
moy droog
. You’re talking to a ghost.”

Sir nodded.

“Even though she is gone, if you would find solace in beating her, I will shut the door and let you have at it.”

Brie’s jaw dropped at the suggestion, but she kept silent in case Sir was seriously considering it.

“Beating a dead body would bring me no peace.”

“Fine, but I do recommend screaming at it. There is great satisfaction to be had in letting your rage out.”

Again Sir nodded.

“Would you like us to stand outside the door?” Rytsar asked.

“Yes.”

Brie willingly went with Rytsar, although she was surprised that Sir wanted her to leave.

Rytsar shut the door, standing in front of it with his arms crossed while Sir’s impassioned ranting began. Although Brie could hear the pain and anger in his voice, she could not make out his words.

The Russian looked down at her. “Do not feel bad that he sent you out. There are things that should remain between them. Memories too terrible to be shared.”

“Why? Did he share them with you?”

“No,
radost moya
, I speak from my own experience.”

“I’m sorry, Rytsar.”

“There is no need to be sorry. It’s not your burden to carry.”

Brie frowned as she stared at the closed door, wishing with all her heart that she could share some of the burden Sir still carried. His tirade went on for what seemed like hours, then the room became deathly silent.

As the silence stretched on, Brie braved cracking open the door and found Sir on his knees beside the bed.

“Sir?”

When he did not respond, Brie entered the room and approached him hesitantly.

“Sir, are you okay?”

He did not look up, but answered in a broken voice, “No.”

Brie knelt beside him and slipped her hand into his. “I’m here for you.”

Sir looked up and questioned her. “Why do I still care? Why do I have any empathy for this beast of a woman?”

“She was a good mother when you were young. She loved both you and your father once.”

“I wish I could forget,” he snarled. “I don’t want to feel any love towards her.”

“You may hate me for saying it, but I don’t want you to forget. I believe it’s important to hold on to what was good, because it shaped you into the man you are today.”

“It was all a lie.”

“I don’t think it was, but even if it was, you had a good childhood—you said so yourself. Hold on to it and let
that
be the legacy your parents leave behind.”

Sir stood up, and stared at Ruth for several minutes before he took her limp hand. “Momma…”

Brie felt tears well up at the sound of love in his voice when he said the simple name.

“There was a time I loved you. It is my reality, although I wish I could deny it. I loved the games you played with me when we waited for Father’s return. You let me rescue you from pirates and we explored the deepest jungles of Africa together from the safety of our living room. Your enthusiasm and creativity was something I cherished as a boy.” He paused, looking at her frighteningly beautiful face. “It’s hard for me to reconcile there was ever a time I felt safe and loved in your arms.”

Tears began to fall as Brie watched Sir gather his mother’s limp body in his arms and hug her. “But I’m still here, Momma. The little boy you once loved—your little
tesoro
. There’s no reason to be frightened. The end of your suffering is here. It’s time for you to let go…”

He laid her gently back down and said to Brie, “Tell Rytsar to get the doctor.”

She silently exited the room, so choked up with emotion she was barely able to speak when she passed on the information to Rytsar. She returned to Sir, holding his hand in silent solidarity as they waited.

All three of them stood together and watched as the doctor began removing the tubes, saving the respirator for last.

“Are you ready, Mr. Davis?”

Sir closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. When he opened them again, his tone was resolute. “Yes.”

Rytsar put his hand on Sir’s shoulder as Sir wrapped his arm around Brie.

Once the respirator was turned off, Ruth’s body started jerking as it fought unsuccessfully to take another breath.

“Go in peace, Momma. I forgive you…”

Brie began sobbing silently as Ruth’s struggles ceased and the heart monitor went flat. The doctor checked her over before pronouncing her dead.

It wasn’t until then that Sir cried. Brie knew he was mourning the death of the young mother he remembered, but Brie cried for an entirely different reason. Her pain came from knowing that Ruth would never have the chance to undo the wrongs she had done.

When the nurses came in to care for the body, Sir wiped the remaining tears from his eyes and announced, “We’re done here.”