Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 52

My eyes opened to a dark room. I reached across the bed to find the sheets cold and empty. Sasha wasn’t here. Disappointment washed over me.

I dragged myself into the bathroom, Sasha’s cum leaking down my thighs. A condom had never occurred to either one of us. I swallowed hard, the idea of pregnancy filling me with anxiety. Sadness.

My heart grew heavy.

Would Sasha throw me away if he knew? Defective.

I swallowed hard. Babies and legacies were an important part of the underworld. Carrying a bloodline. Carrying the last name. Keeping shit within a family. Except, I didn’t mind the Russo bloodline dying with me.

Except, I minded being left behind again.

My stomach turned and I steeled my spine. I cleaned myself up, peed, and then jumped into shower, ignoring all the heavy feelings in the pit of my stomach.

I showered, ate the food that was brought to me, then decided to explore the old castle. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. I drifted from room to room, luxury evident in every single corner of this home. I wasn’t a history buff but my guess was that whoever owned this place had it restored to its original glory.

The castle dated back a few centuries to the good old days before the Russian Revolution.

I descended the large staircase when I heard the familiar, dark voice. My cheeks heated remembering how many times he took me last night. Sasha was dominant and insatiable in the bedroom. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I followed the direction of the voice but each time I entered a room, I found it empty.

“You looking for Sasha?” I whirled around at the sound of a voice. I blinked, then blinked again.

The owner of that voice was tall, about six foot three or more. He wore a black shirt and pants with an open black cashmere coat. My eyebrows shot up. He really liked the color black. My gaze traveled to his face. Sharp, angular features and intense dark eyes. Dark brown hair.

He was a Konstantin. One of the twins. What was he doing here?

Then I remembered his question. “Yes, I’m looking for Sasha.”

“You’re in luck then,” he declared, putting his hands in his pockets, as if he tried to appear non-threatening. Yeah, no chance of that. He had that aura of ruthless, dangerous men. Much like my own brother. Very much like Sasha.

He was pleasant to look at but it was his unnerving eyes that made me want to run and hide. The way he watched me made me think he saw too much. Even the darkest secrets I hid from myself.

“I just left him in the library,” he said. “His brothers are with him.”

Alarm shot through me. I didn’t realize we’d turned this into a family reunion.

“Just them?” I asked cautiously. Did my brother find me?

His brows furrowed for a fraction of a moment, as if he could sense my fear. Like he was confused by it. But then his expression returned to an unreadable mask and we remained standing there. Unmoving. Unblinking.

“Yes, just his brothers.”

This man knew who I was. I’d stake my life on it. Yet as crazy as it sounded, I felt safe under Sasha’s protection. I shook my head at myself. The man dished out orgasms like it was candy and made my body melt, and suddenly I felt safe with him. Yeah, that was not my brain talking, but whatever.

“You look like you want to run?” he remarked, his voice calm. Like he purposely kept his tone low so he wouldn’t scare me. It was then that I realized my feet fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot, and I forced myself to stop.

I couldn’t remember the last time I ran from a man. It had been a while. Father and his fucking associate! He was the last man I ran from.

“I’m Ilias,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. “Ilias Konstantin.”

Hesitantly, I put my hand into his. “Branka.”

I learned a long time ago that it wasn’t smart to give out my last name. My father had too many enemies. Too many people he had wronged.

“Nice to meet you, Branka.” I tilted my head in acknowledgement. “How are you liking Russia so far?”

I shrugged, studying him. “I’ve only seen this house and the vast land stretching for miles,” I remarked dryly. “Summers are colder in Siberia though.”

He smiled, amused, and my mouth just about dropped. Holy mother of God. It was like being blinded by the sun. His sex appeal was overwhelming.

“And winters are even colder,” he noted amused.

A shiver rolled down my spine. I could only imagine miles and miles of deep snow. White as far as your eyes could see. Not my ideal winter scenario. Yes, I was from Canada, but it didn’t mean I loved freezing my butt off.

“Are you Sasha’s friend?” I asked curiously. This was the second time I’d seen him in Sasha’s vicinity. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “I’ve seen you before. In California.”

His lips pulled into the slightest smile. “I remember you,” he remarked.

Okay, that was worrisome. After all, that was seven years ago. “So, are you?” I asked again. When he cocked his eyebrow in question, I added, “Friends?”

“He probably wouldn’t put me in that category.” His tone was dry and his expression even drier. “Especially after the conversation we just had.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

He tilted his head. “I’m afraid the Nikolaev brothers weren’t too happy with my demands on their sister.” He shook his head, agitation clear on his face. “That’s Tatiana’s only downfall. Her brothers.”

I frowned, utterly confused. Why was he telling me that? Something told me everything this guy did was with a purpose. He wasn’t the kind that made mistakes.

“And you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you that,” he drawled lazily, his smile distant. I nodded. It was odd that he was telling me anything about Tatiana. After all, we were strangers. “Because you are his weakness, Branka Russo.”

Somehow it didn’t surprise me he knew who I was.

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