Page 60 of Ruthless Vows
“Yeah.” Lucia nods. “We should do this again sometime.”
“Or all the time. You could always move your things in here,krasavitsa. We’ll be married soon.”
Her eyes narrow. “Exactly. Soon. Until then, I think the proper thing would be to sleep in separate bedrooms, Mr. Volkov.”
“There’s nothing proper about what I did to you last night,milaya,” I state, my voice gruff.
My entire body heats with the memory and the urge to take her again hits me with full force. Images of her body writhing under mine flash through my mind. The sounds she made. Fucking hell. My eyes narrow onto her lips and now I’m imagining them wrapped around my cock, while I grip her hair in my hands.
Lucia makes a small sound. “Oh god, do I even want to know what you’re thinking about right now?”
I chuckle. “Probably not, sweetheart.”
“Did you know your accent comes out more in the mornings?” she asks, her cheeks a little red, no doubt because she’s conjuring images of her own. It’s cute.
I nod. “Yeah, that’s because all my guards are down. I lived in Russia for the first eighteen years of my life. Russian was all I knew before I came to the States. It makes sense that I can’t completely get rid of the accent, nor do I want to.”
“It must have been hard, navigating a foreign country with a little boy to look after on your own,” she says sympathetically.
“It wasn’t easy,” I agree.
“It’s nice that you’re still so connected to where you’re from. My parents gave birth to me in Italy. According to what Rory’s told me, my mom wanted a vacation to Italy for a couple of months with the entire family. My parents met in Milan, so the city has always been special to them. When they realized she was pregnant with me, they stayed there the entire time. Theywere really happy,” she says with a soft smile, like she’s trying to imagine memories she could have only been a part of when she was in the womb.
“My family never got to go back, though,” Lucia continues. “Mom got sick about two years after. And then she passed away. I guess Italy reminded my Papa of her, and after she died, he seemed to be doing everything not to think of her. He pulled away. Became the Don soon after her death. Everything changed after she died.”
“What was your relationship like with your Papa?” I ask, because from the way she’s speaking, it seems like she bears him no ill will.
The rumors were that he kicked them out of the Cosa Nostra. Sent them into exile for their own protection.
“My relationship with my Papa was pretty straightforward. I grieved him when he died, but by the time it happened, I didn’t have any relationship with him at all. When we still lived together, we would speak once in a while. I could tell he loved us, but I don’t think he knew how to express himself with our mother gone. He pulled away. But I admired him, his strength and the way he led the family. He’s a lot like Aurora, actually. I think that’s why they were always at loggerheads, because their personalities are so similar. Rory always says I’m a lot like our mom, though,” she says sadly.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to know her,milaya.”
She blinks and the sadness in her eyes clears up. “Okay, this is really depressing talk for seven in the morning,” she says with a small smile. “Can we talk about something else?”
She reminds me of the sun sometimes. The sun rises every day without fail and it never fails to brighten up everything it touches. Lucia’s my sun.
“What would you like to talk about?” I ask her.
She thinks about that for a couple of seconds. “Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. Can I go home today? I miss my sister and Ale. They’re the reason I came to Chicago, after all.”
Her words remind me of something I’ve been meaning to talk to her about.
“Of course you can visit them, Lucia. You’re not my prisoner. Despite what you may think,” I tell her with a smirk.
“Thank you.”
“Also, we need to talk about your job in New York,” I start. “I know your original plan was to come here for a visit, but you’ve been in Chicago for a while. And now that we’re getting married, I’m not sure how we’re going to navigate it. Should we move to New York after we get married?”
Her mouth drops open. “What? Wait, are you serious?”
“I know how important your job is to you. And it doesn’t matter much to me where we live. My work with the Bratva can be handled remotely. I also have a private jet that can bring me here whenever I want. I’m sure we can make it work. What do you think?”
I’m not sure why, but she seems a little paler, her eyes shadowed.
“Um… so the thing is, Ivan?—”
She doesn’t get to finish her statement, though, because there’s a sudden knock at the door. I arch an eyebrow, climbing out of bed and putting on some clothes before walking over to open the door. Ruslan’s on the other side, his expression tight.