Page 101 of House of Lies
“About what the hell has been going on. Vlad said there’s been some trouble.”
“Vlad?” I frown. “And there’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“I’m not dumb, Kaz. I knew something was going on even without you telling me this. You’ve been unreachable for months. Vanya only said you’re okay. I thought you went back to prison!” She punches me lightly in the chest.
“Well, obviously, I didn’t. And, as you can see, Vanya was right. I’m fine.”
“I hope you treat your wife better than this.”
Right on cue, my wife is making her way down the stairs, confused by the commotion. She signed the papers two months ago. She’s officially mine. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and her body has healed, no bruises in sight. I’ve kept my promise and found her a therapist who speaks English. She still refuses to go; she's too afraid to be vulnerable, but I trust that she’ll find the strength to talk about what happened to her someday.
I hated routine while I was in prison. It was the death of me. This doesn’t kill me now, though. I’m conducting most of my business from home. Dedushka is still looking for Sevastyan, as are my men, and no one has tried to kill me recently. So life hasn’t been too bad. It turned out that Fiona wasn’t kidnapped; she ran away. I’ve let her be, not overly concerned about her life. Eventually, Benedetti will catch up with her. I want to know her whereabouts if I have any questions, not that she’ll be helpful.
I take a few steps toward the bottom of the stairs, where my wife stands. She’s dyed her hair back to a color close to her natural one, wearing a dark purple dress and flat shoes, her hair cascading down her shoulders. It’s hard to breathe when she’s around.
“Mrs. Mordvinova,” I smirk, watching her cheeks flush. Calling her Mrs. Mordvinova has become a habit I’m not eager to break. She can say whatever she wants, but I know she loves the sound of it.
“Hi,” she stammers, peering over my shoulder. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“My brother lacks manners,” Katarina chimes in, appearing by my side. “I’m Kat. It’s lovely to meet the woman who finally stole my brother’s heart.”
Caelia looks confused, perhaps because Katarina has enveloped her in a hug, because she speaks English, or because I may have forgotten to inform her of Katarina’s arrival today.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Caelia replies, giving me a curious look over Katarina’s shoulder. I shrug in response. “I wish Kaz had mentioned that you were coming today.”
“Typical,” Katarina remarks, stepping back. “I can’t wait to hear your story.”
“You’ll have all the time in the world, Katarina. I’m sure you’re tired from the journey and must freshen up.”
I also need to speak with Caelia about what that story is. Katarina doesn’t know what I’ve been doing in New York. She doesn’t know she had another brother I killed. She hasn’t missed anything, but she might still hate me for it.
“Take it easy, brother. I’m not trying to steal your wife away,” she winks at Caelia.
“You can try, but you won’t get far.”
Caelia scoffs. “Are you hungry, Kat? Do you need help with your luggage?”
“No, don’t worry. Kaz will have someone bring it to my room. I’ll go take a shower and then come back.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will, thank you.”
Caelia waits until Katarina turns at the top of the stairs before she speaks.
“What the hell, Kaz? You have family visiting and didn’t think it was worth mentioning?”
“I had other things on my mind,” I say, turning around and wrapping an arm around her.
“Yeah? Like what?” she prods. I cup the back of her neck, my lips finding hers.
“Like how good it feels to be buried inside my wife’s tight pussy,” I whisper against her lips.
She bites my bottom lip like the tease she is. Caelia knows by now that it doesn’t take much for me to bend her over any surface in this house and fuck her. I wanted to give her time, but she copes with trauma in her own way, and her way involves sex with me. I’m not complaining. I wish she would talk more about it.
“What else?” she challenges.
“How addicted I am to the sound of her moaning my name, begging me to make her come.”