Her Russian Billionaire Baby - Cher Etan

Her Russian Billionaire's Baby A billion-dollar Russian with a dark past... A complete Mafia romance story, brought to you by bestselling author Cher Etan. Adrian is from a very... Russian family. He’s also a billionaire, and can have pretty much whatever he wants.

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Isobel on the other hand runs a quaint pastry shop, has money problems and is pretty much his opposite in every way. But when a chance and rather awkward meeting between the two occurs, both of their lives will be changed forever! What does true love with a handsome Russian feel like? Like your world's complete, like you want his baby, like you want to marry him. But what about when his mafia past starts to show and you get caught in the middle of it all?

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Will they be able to overcome hurdles that involve not only themselves, but also the mob? Find out in this thrilling and steamy pregnancy romance by bestselling author Cher Etan. Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you'll need your own Russian billionaire to fall in love with.

Get Another Contemporary And BWWM eBook Free! Hi there. As a special thank you for buying this ebook, for a limited time I want to send you another two completely free of charge directly to your email! You can get it by clicking the cover below or going here: Direct link: www.saucyromancebooks.com/ love-contemporary-or-bwwm-romance-books These books are so exclusive you can't even buy them. When you download them I'll also send you updates when new books like this are available.

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Copyright © 2016 to Cher Etan and SaucyRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book can be copied or distributed without written permission from the above copyright holders.

Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

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Chapter 10 Get Another BWWM And Contemporary Ebook Free More Books By Cher Etan

Chapter 1 Adrian first shot a gun at age twelve. The Benedikt family had their own range, and Alexei and Adrian begged Boris to take them for months until he finally broke. (Boris always told his wife, Vera that the worst torture he’d been through was having twins pestering him.) Boris set them up with a small-calibre pistol and let Alexei shoot first. He missed the target completely, and Adrian began teasing him in the garbled half-language that the twins used to communicate. “Oh, yeah?” Alexei seethed. “If you’re so good, why don’t you take a crack at it?” (This, of course, was a vague and Americanized translation because seriously that mess

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the twins spoke was crazy.) So Adrian did take a crack at it. He loaded the gun himselfturning down help from his father-and aimed steadily at the target. Now, it would be a gross exaggeration to say that all five bullets went through the bull’s eye, but he was both precise and accurate. Boris let out a booming laugh-Adrian’s favourite -and slapped the boy on the back. “Ah! The kid’s a natural!” He proclaimed, and Vera, terrifying, gorgeous Vera, smacked him upside the head and began lecturing all three of them on how they were a respectable family and she wouldn’t be having her twelve year old trained in combat. Boris agreed readily, and winked at his boys.

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Adrian was excited at the prospect of having his own gun one day. ***** Evgeni leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his powerful chest and a blank look on his stony face. The boy in front of him reached deep into his pockets and pulled out an ID that Evgeni was sure was a fake. He looked at the piece of plastic, a sneer already budding over his handsome features, and a thin eyebrow raised. He glared at the raven haired kid in front of him a moment, and then looked back at the picture. It was certainly a fake, but a damn good fake. The young man’s baby face was creamy, met with rosy cheeks due to the warmth pouring out of the club, and his blue

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eyes were piercing, but he was definitely under twenty one. He was either an old looking seventeen, or a young looking twenty, but in no way could Evgeni accept the fact that this kid was born the date his license boasted. “It’s fake. No way you’re twenty one.” Evgeni said flipping the ID over to check the back. He wondered if it was one of their fake IDs. They were made for the young prostitutes who were just under the age of consent. If they ever were caught, it could be said they were guilty of prostitution, but not the prostitution of a minor. “It’s not fake,” the kid snapped fussing with his black jacket. “I got it at the DMV after my driver’s test like everybody else. Now give it back and let me in.”

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Evgeni looked at him a moment and then back at the ID for the fourth time. He shook his head slowly, and could feel the eyes of, Adrian Benedikt according to the ID, but then that could also be fake, throwing daggers at him. “Dima?” He called over his shoulder and a tall man came toward the front. He was bigger than Evgeni, more meaty, but in no way more threatening. They both looked like thugs, and Evgeni had a gleam in his eye that told Adrian he was dangerous. Evgeni handed the big man the ID and heard Adrian huff. “I think it’s fake.” Demyan, known in public as Dima, looked at the picture on the ID and then back at the person in question. He spent more time

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looking at Adrian than the ID itself, and Adrian’s cheeks flushed even redder with outrage. “Definitely. No way are you twenty one,” Dima said and reached into his black trench coat pocket. He pulled out a large pair of scissors and sliced the license in half. The kid, Adrian Benedikt, looked like he was about to explode. He actually brought his hands up to his raven hair and pulled, something Evgeni had only seen on TV. He would laugh at the kid, but Mr. Fyodor had given him very strict orders not to antagonize the patrons, even those he sent away. “Are you crazy? That’s my license!” He yelled and snatched the two pieces of plastic from Dima’s hands. Adrian’s horror and

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anger was real enough, but Evgeni thought it only had to do with him having to go out and find another fake ID. “This is unbelievable.” Adrian’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open slightly. He seemed to be genuinely distressed and looked around a moment at a loss. When he looked back at the two doormen only anger covered his young features. “I’m really twenty one!” Evgeni and Dima looked at each other a moment. He seemed genuine. “I want to talk to the manager.” Despite the firmness in his voice Dima laughed.

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“You can’t just talk to the manager,” he said flatly, like they would let this kid in to see Mr. Fyodor. “You ruined my license. You know how much it costs to replace this? I’m not kidding. Bring me to him now.” He set his jaw and his blue eyes hardened. Evgeni sighed when he realized this kid would no doubt throw a little bitch fit if he did not get what he wanted and he happened to know that Fyodor was not exceptionally busy that night. He glanced at Dima, who let Evgeni make the final call. “Fine. Follow me,” He turned abruptly and Adrian followed, pushing through the crowds of people inside the club. He almost lost the

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asshole bouncer, who seemed completely unconcerned as to whether or not Adrian was actually following him or not. “I expect to be paid back for that,” Adrian called over the pounding music, trying to keep up with Evgeni’s long strides. Evgeni ignored Adrian as he entered the club, the red lighting and loud techno music not doing well for his pounding headache. He avoided the dance floor, walking around to the lounge area where men, mostly twenty seven and down, were into some heavy duty kissing. Adrian looked at the men with a large, surprised eyes and Evgeni rolled his eyes. They approached a large room which was blocked off from the rest of the club with tinted windows. Evgeni knocked on it twice

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with a single knuckle and waited. The door opened and a man in a dark suit stepped out. He whispered something to Evgeni and went back inside. “Come this way,” Evgeni said walked along the back of the club until they came to a door. Adrian would never have known it was there had Evgeni not gone straight to it and placed his hand on the door knob. Inside the second corridor you could barely hear the pounding music and the lighting was normal. No strobe lights to be seen. They walked down the hallway until they came to a door in the very back. Evgeni again knocked and a deep Russian bark came from inside. Adrian felt his heart flutter slightly in fear and he wet his lips. This was certainly not part of the

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plan, but perhaps Iosif would give him a bonus if he told him he had gotten into the Russian’s office and spoke to him personally. Adrian was broken from his thoughts when Evgeni opened the door and stepped inside, grabbing Adrian by the collar and pushing him forward. Adrian looked at the man behind the desk and his mouth went dry. His mind seemed to go dark and he momentarily forgot why he had even come. The Russian was the most intimidating, and most terrifying man he had ever laid his eyes upon. The man had pronounced cheekbones and a strong set jaw. His face was chiseled and masculine, but held an air of elegance Adrian could admire. His hair was auburn, closer

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to brown than red, short and parted at the side neatly. He obviously spent a lot of time each day combing his hair. Adrian remembered seeing pictures of Iosef Petrov on TV and while that man looked handsome and dangerous, he could pass as a legitimate businessman. This Russian could not. Like the bouncer who had brought him in, who Adrian could only assume was related to him, given the amazing similarity between their facial expressions, looked mean as hell. He was leaning back in his chair, a hand resting on his desk, a pen in it as Adrian appraised him, his dark eyes harsh and questioning and staring right at Adrian. “Can I help you?” He asked, his Russian accent sending a shiver of fear down Adrian’s

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spine. It was thick, monotone, and the most terrifying thing Adrian had ever heard. What Adrian might have thought familiar; a throwback to his early childhood, he could only feel the trembling of his legs as he looked at him. It was a struggle to even swallow, and the Russian looked at him with such venom, Adrian wanted nothing more than to flee the scene. “Um…no,” Adrian said and turned to walk out the door. Evgeni grabbed him by the collar of his pea coat and stopped him. Evgeni’s dark brown eyes locked onto his, his face serious as sin. When he spoke he was so close that Adrian could smell his minty breath.

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“I don’t interrupt him for nothing,” Evgeni snapped and turned him around forcefully so he faced Fyodor. “He claims he’s twenty one sir, and demanded to see you when Demyan cut his fake ID up.” “It’s not fake,” Adrian snapped, finding some courage back. “See.” He took a few tentative steps toward the Russian behind the desk and handed what was once his license toward the manager of the club. The man took it between his long, slender fingers and looked it over, holding the two pieces together. While he looked at it, Adrian silently mused that he might have been a good piano player with fingers like those, had he not gone into the business of murder instead.

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“Looks real to me,” Fyodor spoke and Adrian turned to give Evgeni a dirty look. The man leaned back in his chair and pulled out his wallet. With two elegant fingers he took out a crisp one hundred dollar bill. “A little extra for your trouble.” “That’s it?” Adrian asked, more offended then frightened at the moment. Evgeni nearly balked at him, surprise and anger on his face. “It’s gonna cost me twenty bucks to get it replaced again, not to mention having to go down and spend all that time, and gas money, and all you give me is a hundred?” “I’ll take him back Mr. Fyodor.” Evgeni said and he grabbed Adrian by the collar. As he was dragging Adrian out of the room Fyodor spoke.

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“Tell Sergei his drinks are free tonight,” Fyodor said and Evgeni nodded. “Yes, Sir,” Evgeni said and shut the door. “Pretty cheap boss you got there.” Adrian said neatly folding the one hundred dollar bill and putting it in his pocket. “I bet he has ten “G”s in there.” “He is not idiotic enough to have that much money lying around.” Evgeni said stiffly, not at all wishing to have any sort of conversation with the kid walking next to him. “Ooh, Mr. Mob boss tell you that?” “This club has no affiliation to any Mafia. Our money is in a safe and is deposited into the bank every morning.”

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“Right…no mobsters running around?” The kid looked skeptical. “Whatever.” Evgeni ignored him. A moment passed and then Adrian spoke again, hoping to get a reaction. He knew the bouncer had to be related to Fyodor some way, and could very well pass for his son, but he wanted to get as much information out of him as he could, and anger always seemed to rustle up the most genuine reactions from people. “So, your boss is quite the badass huh? Y’all looking for new talent?” He asked and watched Evgeni scowl. “No, I bet you don’t want any competition.” Adrian laughed and Evgeni stopped walked and grabbed onto Adrian’s shirt.

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“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He yelled, his eyes nearly on fire and Adrian felt his stomach drop to his knees. That he certainly was not expecting. His back ached from where he got hit and he was silent a moment. “Look, relax, I’m sorry,” Adrian said to Evgeni. Evgeni released him and they began to walk back down the hall. “So, Fyodor is looking for new talent?” Adrian’s eyes were suddenly more alert and serious. To Evgeni, he suddenly looked older than he was. With the expression on his face, a seriousness that Evgeni had not seen before, he looked more mature. Evgeni narrowed his eyes his eyes in suspicion.

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“What are you getting at?” Evgeni asked slowly. “Nothing.” Adrian shrugged. “Just curious. I happen to have some talents you could probably use.” He meant that too. It was time he made his way in the world and Fyodor was the perfect place to start, mob boss or no. “That’s it get out. Go dance or drink or whatever. I need to get back to work.” Evgeni said snapping and pointing at the door. “Sure about that? Don’t you wanna know what I can do?” Evgeni scowled and pushed passed him to the door. Pounding music

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reverberated in his ears and he waited for Adrian to walk pass him. “Fine, but you’re missing out. My talents are legendary,” Adrian said and disappeared onto the dance floor. ***** It was three a.m. when the club finally closed and Adrian slipped through the front doors avoiding Evgeni’s eyes. He walked a block down the street before he opened and reached into his plain and unassuming car. Pulling his camera from behind the seat he waited a few moments for the crowds to disperse. He heard some drunks howling, some vulgar words screamed out into the air, and eventually silence. When the street became

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quiet again he slowly crossed the street and made his way back down to the club. No gangsters stood outside and the lights flickered off. He looked around, his eyes darting around for anything suspicious. He leaned against the wall of a building across the street, doing his best to remain hidden. His black clothing helped him in that department. He normally would have added more color to his wardrobe, but as he left he had to remind himself that this was work, not play. He nearly gave up when he heard muffled voices from the alley next to the club. The space between the two buildings was narrow, but could fit a car between them and in fact it had. As Adrian slid down the building

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he could see a beautiful black BMW parked between the buildings. A dim light hung overhead and Adrian could clearly see men in suits exchanging brief cases. “Fuck me.” Adrian murmured. “This is just like the fucking movies.” He brought the camera to his eyes, and focusing, snapped the picture. He was a skilled photographer and was quite proud of the clarity of the images on such a dark night. A small nagging part of him, his survival instinct, told him to get up and leave, to quit while he was ahead. He couldn’t. His heart thudded in his chest and he felt like he was going to pass out. He clicked the camera over and over again, adjusting the focus with each snap. His pointer finger froze on

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the camera when he felt a strong hand clamp around his shoulder. “Oh fuck,” he said and looked up at the scary looking man above him. “You guys are good.” “And you’re dead.” ***** He was dragged over into the alley by a large bouncer Adrian had seen earlier in the night. His stomach was in his throat and in his toes at the same time and Adrian was glad he had not drank at all that night because he most certainly would have pissed himself. As they approached the voices in the alley stopped and looked toward them.

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“Found him on the other side of the street. With this.” The bouncer said tossing the camera over to a tall man with blonde hair and gray eyes. Despite the firm hold he was in, Adrian brought up his hands and let out a small cry as the camera was tossed from the blonde man to another man with dark black hair. Had Adrian not been so terrified, for his life and his camera, he might have been able to recognize who it was he was about to address. Had he, he probably would have pissed himself. “That’s very expensive,” he said. “Please don’t drop it.” The man with dark hair looked up at him and his piercing gray eyes knocked the wind out of him. He flicked through the pictures and a

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wry smile covered his lips. He looked up at Adrian before he ripped the back off the camera. With graceful hands he pulled out the memory card and dropped the camera on the ground. Adrian watched the lens shatter and the focus break off. A polished shoe kicked the camera down the alley way and Adrian looked up at the man in fear. The memory card was then snapped in half and Adrian could have cried. “Oops,” the gray eyed man said with a cold smile and the others laughed. It was then that Adrian noticed Mr. Fyodor. He was standing only a few feet away from him, looking like he would kill Adrian with his bare hands. The anger and hatred in his eyes

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was palpable and Adrian shrunk against the man holding him, hoping to look smaller. “It seems you need better security here, Maksim,” the blue eyed man said with a small smile. “Seems you’re right.” Fyodor muttered. He did not say it was his idea to have the meeting inside, but Konstantin’s to have it outside, where the world could see. “Who do you work for boy?” The black haired man asked. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.” Adrian said stiffly, his mouth drying. The man let out a hearty, booming laughter.

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“You’ve got guts, son. I like that. I really do. That doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. Now, I’ll ask once more. Who do you work for?” “Iosif.” He said and looked around at the different Russians. He would have rather told them he worked for the Italians. Many of the men scowled, and one spit onto the ground. “What did he want?” the man’s voice was calm and almost amused, but Adrian knew not to let himself get too comfortable. “He wanted me to get something on you guys. Anything. If I could prove anything sneaky was going on. I was supposed to give it to him.” “Not to the police?”

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Adrian was beginning to sweat. “No. He said I had to bring it to him. Well. One of his guys at the book store on 8th and 5th.” He looked up at the men holding him and then at Fyodor who looked like he was in pain. “Interesting. I have what I need here. Maksim take care of the boy, and for goodness sake,” the man in charge said with a teasing tone. “Try to make our next meeting a bit more secure. Do what you will with the boy. Come, along Konstantin.” Three men got into the BMW and pulled away. Adrian was still held prisoner by his coat and the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in. Fyodor was staring at him

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with a calm, controlled exterior, but judging by the red ring that circled his eyes and the way his breath was leaving his nose in loud pants he had a rage inside him that was just waiting to break through. ***** It was a good thing that Fyodor hated Iosif more than he was interested in punishing Adrian. He was thrown in a two by four cell and starved for five days while Fyodor pumped him for information like he was a flat bicycle wheel. Adrian talked and talked, but managed not to say much. There was a lot more at stake than just his life. Iosif held his family’s life hostage. He had to get out of the cell and find a way to get the pictures of Fyodor he needed. Otherwise he might as well

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let them kill him now. He could not face himself if he just let his people die. After a week of concentrated torture, Fyodor offered him a job. “If I come work for you, you need to do something for me,” Adrian said. Fyodor stared at him in disbelief; and then he laughed loud and long. “I gotta hand it to, Adrian Benedikt. You have naglost,” he said with a smile. “Does that mean you’ll help me?” Adrian asked. “Tell me,” Fyodor said.

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“I need you to get my family back,” Adrian said.

Chapter 2 Isobel Bryant slowly went through her accounts in despair. Her pastry restaurant was barely in the black. She had no clue how she was still afloat actually, all things considered. One thing out of whack and she would have to close down. “Do you need anything else before I go Ms. Bryant?” a soft voice asked from the kitchen where Mya had been preparing the dough for tomorrow’s pies. Isobel looked up and forced a smile. Mya was heavily pregnant and her husband had just ran off with his dealer. He had been a long distance trucker; not really good for much but with excellent health insurance. Isobel was behind with her

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Obamacare premiums so Mya was kind of in a state of limbo right now. To look at Mya’s ever increasing bulge gave Isobel a migraine. Mya had a doctor’s appointment next week; Isobel had found out from Carlos the bus boy. She had no idea what to do. She looked back down at the mass of unpaid bills in her lap. “No thank you Mya. You should go home. Get some rest,” she said. “Okay Ms. Bryant. I’ll say goodnight. See you in the morning,” Mya’s soft voice said. Isobel stretched her lips in the best parody of a smile she could find, avoiding Mya’s eyes. As soon as the woman had left she leaned forward, banging her head against the table in frustration.

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“Fuck,” she whispered to herself. She jumped as her phone trilled next to her ear. She sat up and picked it up, answering without looking at caller ID. “Hey sis! What’s shakin?” a deep baritone asked in her ear. It was her brother Willis calling her. He was always checking up on her, wanting to know she was okay. He always seemed to call when she was miserable. It was like he knew. Maybe it was because they were twins. “Not much. Doing my accounts,” she said, striving to let not a note of her misery seep into her tone. “That bad huh?” Willis asked.

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Isobel snorted, mostly to herself. She never could fool him. “Hey, why don’t you come around? I got some money in my safe I need to invest. How about I invest it in you?” Willis was in the service industry too; he ran a club of exotic dancers and unlike with Isobel, business was always booming. “I’m fine Willis. Thanks.” She said hoping he would drop it. “I’m sending Leroy to pick you up. We can discuss it when you’re here,” he said and promptly hung up before she could protest. She gathered all her bills together, arranging them according to due dates. The ‘past due’

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ones were an intimidatingly large pile. Maybe she could use a bit of help… ***** The Man Cave was a new - and extremely exclusive - strip club built near the middle of town. Now, if it wasn't strange enough that there was a strip club built in his town, the girls that worked there were - excuse his pun - supernaturally attractive and talented. Adrian visited the place far more often than almost anyone Adrian knew would've approved of, but Adrian didn't care. Hell, he still didn’t. In fact, he was glad he visited that place so often. It made his life what it was now. Exciting and fun; it chased away the

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feelings of emptiness that suffused him sometimes. The first time Adrian visited, Adrian was with his twin brother. They were both well on their way to being completely wasted when they stumbled through the doors of the dimly-lit club, laughing at the blinking neon-pink sign above the entrance, along with a few weird symbols that looked remotely satanic, though Adrian didn't really pay them any mind. Not that time, at least. As they stumbled in, the bartender - a somewhat short, pretty redhead - looked up at them and chuckled softly, shaking her head slightly at them, but it only made them laugh harder. His brother stumbled over to the bar to get them each a drink, and Adrian started

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to follow him when he saw a couple of the performers leaning against the bar. One of them looked to be around six feet tall, with short, messy-ish blond hair and emeraldgreen eyes. Adrian assumed she was on a break, or possibly finished for the night after all, it was getting pretty late - because she was flirting with his brother, making him laugh like a maniac. The other girl leaning against the bar, though, was a few inches taller than the blond flirt. She had long brown hair that looked impossibly soft, a casual but also slightly professional stance, and intelligent hazel eyes that were looking around the building, boredom clear in her facial

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expression. Adrian smiled slightly when he saw her, because he knew how she felt. Adrian walked over to his brother, stumbling a bit over his own feet. Glancing up briefly when he heard someone chuckle, he wasn't surprised to find that it was the other girl leaning against the bar. Adrian gave her a flirty smile, accepting the drink the bartender offered him. Adrian took a few sips of the drink, simply looking around in boredom, watching as everyone else that was there began to leave, the employees starting to clean everything up. Closing time was soon, but it was clear Adrian was going to have to walk home by himself, since blondie had completely

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captivated his twin brother, and Adrian knew where she would be going when they left. Sighing, Adrian turned and set his glass on the bar, jumping slightly when he heard someone clear his throat behind him, then chuckle when Adrian jumped. Adrian turned back around slowly, trying to seem casual, and like he hadn't just had the living daylights scared out of him. Adrian had to tilt his head back slightly to see the face of whoever it was that had scared him, and when he did, he was pleased to see that it was the girl that had been leaning against the bar - the one not flirting with his twin brother.

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"Sorry I scared you," she apologized, her voice light and airy. Adrian liked it. "I just didn't want to miss my chance to say hello and introduce myself, before we both have to leave. My name is Sam, though around here most people call me Venus." "Venus?" Adrian asked with a laugh. "That's quite a name." Chuckling, Sam nodded in agreement. "You're telling me," she said. At that moment, his twin brother stumbled over, trying to tug him out of the building, along with his new friend with the pretty green eyes. Adrian squeaked softly, stumbling after him.

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"My name’s Adrian, by the way!" he called over his shoulder to Sam, waving goodbye before being dragged to the door. ***** Seven years later and he was here partly to enjoy the show, and partly for business. He and his twin brother were no longer joined at the hip; Adrian was an Avtorityet or Brigadier under Fyodor; who was Sovietnik in charge of the entire East Coast. Fyodor reported directly to the Pakhan, Konstantin "Gizya" Ginzburg who was the head of the Russian Mafia in America. Fyodor was an easy going guy, as long as one paid their dues and met their targets, he wasn’t too fussy about how and where income came from. With the caveat that whatever it was should not

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attract too much notice from authorities. He was kind of the ‘Young Money’ of the Bratva; as long as money was being made, his brigadiers were free to do their own thing; come up with their own innovative ways to make money. Adrian was happy in his position, especially when it gave him the means to chase opportunities like the one he had today. Willis Bryant was owner of the The Man Cave; which had a soft spot in Adrian’s heart because it was the first strip club he’d been to. It had treated him well; he even had his favorite dancers; Nadya and Svetlana; they were both black beauties but they called themselves by Russian names just for him. Willis was a good businessman and Adrian wanted

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to see if they could expand their relationship. He liked working with friends. “I like the big booty one,” his companion said. He was a city councilman Adrian was entertaining for the night. He had no idea what the guy was talking about. Didn’t all the strippers have big booties? He nodded and smiled though, signaling for Eric, his bodyguard to get whichever chick the guy was talking about. The customer was always right after all…that was the first rule of business. He looked up to see that Willis had stepped in the room and was heading in his direction. He smiled and stood, nodding to the councilman and begging to be excused as he stepped forward to meet Willis.

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He turned around just in time to run smack dab into a tall, African American woman with short curly hair arranged untidily on her head, with the most hour glass figure he’d ever seen. He could see it clearly because it was framed in tight black jeans which cinched in at a tiny waist and then flared out to luscious hips. Her long jean clad legs tapered downward to delicate ankles and her sandals didn’t do anything to hide her gaily painted cute toes from his eyes. She had on a fairly tight v-neck t-shirt that framed her substantial bust to perfection. Adrian stopped walking abruptly. “Well hellooo there,” he murmured with pleasure.

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The girl turned to stare at him, looking him up and down with her dark eyes. He could feel himself stiffening just from the scrutiny. He’d never seen this one before but he would pay Willis whatever it took to go home with her tonight. “What’s your name honey?” he asked reaching out to put his hands on her hips. He almost gasped in shock when she slapped his hands away. Almost. Adrian Benedikt did not do shock. “Hey honey, what’s your problem?” he asked in annoyance. Suddenly Willis was there, pulling the girl behind him, a thunderous look on his face.

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“Adrian…I’m sorry there seems to be some sort of misunderstanding here. My sister is not one of the girls,” he said his voice going very low and very deep; almost dangerous. Adrian’s brow cleared and he smiled. “Your sister? My apologies. I didn’t realize. She is very beautiful,” Adrian said eyes still on her. “Yeah well she’s also off limit,” Willis replied seeming to expand so that his sister was totally hidden from view. Adrian put his hands up in surrender. “My mistake. Can we talk?” “Yeah. I just gotta finish something up with Izzy here; I’ll be right with you,” he said

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braceleting his sister’s arm and leading her away. “It was nice to meet you…Izzy,” Adrian called with a smile. He would see her again. He’d make sure of it. He called Eric to him. “Yes boss?” he asked. “You see the girl with Willis there? The one with the black jeans?” he asked. Eric craned his neck to see, “Yeah?” he said. “Have her followed. Let me know where she goes,” Adrian said before going back to his councilman. *****

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“Who the fuck was that?” Isobel asked her brother as he hustled her away from the tall dude with the piercing eyes. “Bad news,” Willis said briefly as he led her to his office and shut the door firmly behind her. “Now, how much do you need?” he asked crossing over to the safe. “Willis…” Isobel tried. “Izzy,” Willis interrupted. “How much?” he opened his safe and removed a few wads of cash. “Will $7000 tide you over?” he asked. Isobel sighed. She couldn’t foresee being able to pay seven thousand dollars back anytime soon. Willis ran a business too; he

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probably needed it. He didn’t give her the opportunity to say no though. Before she knew it, he was stuffing the money in her purse. “Leroy will take you to the ATM so you can deposit it in your account. Then he’ll take you home. I’ll see you Sunday for brunch,” Willis said gathering her into a hug and then pushing her toward the door without giving her a chance to say a word. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob though and turned to face him. “Thanks Willis,” she said. He shrugged. “Yeah well, what else am I gonna do with it huh? Git. I got a business deal to close,” he said.

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Isobel smiled and left. Leroy was waiting outside the door and he ushered her through the back entrance and into Willis’ black tintwindowed SUV and drove her away. Neither of them noticed the discreet gray sedan that followed sedately behind them. ***** When Isobel got to her store the next day, there was a huge silver Bentley parked out front with a bow on the hood. She lifted up her eyebrows wondering whose sugar daddy had thought it was a good idea to park a car that expensive in this location. She shrugged inwardly, thinking that she had a bird’s eye view from her countertop to see who came to claim it. Her money was on that Draya Michelle wannabe who lived upstairs from

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the bar and restaurant across the street. Her butt seemed to get bigger every month and maybe she’d hit the jackpot and snagged herself just the man she’d been looking for to satisfy all her financial needs. She slipped into the alley to get into her shop, murmuring a greeting to Mya who was already in, filling the shop with the heady smell of bagels and coffee. Mya worked so hard, she made Isobel feel sluggish and lazy. She quickly deposited her bag in her locker, snatched up her apron and went to put the pies in the oven before snatching up the broom to sweep up the sidewalk before Mya could think to do it. There was a tall man standing outside her door, seemingly

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waiting for her to open. She smiled at him, wondering why he looked familiar. “We’ll be open in just a jiffy if you’d care to wait,” she said. It was 6:30am for crying out loud; this man must really want his coffee. They had their usually early morning joggers who stopped by, plus the early commuters – they were fairly regular and Isobel thought she knew them all. This wasn’t one of them. He smiled at her as she swept as fast as possible before ushering him in. “What can I getcha?” she asked. He smiled at her as if they knew each other and then opened his mouth. “It is I who have brought you something, with my boss’ compliments,” he said gesturing outside toward

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the Bentley. “He said to convey his apologies again, for mistaking you for a stripper last night.” Isobel gaped at him. She could see Mya, peeking through the partition that separated the kitchen from the counter. Her mouth was open too. Carlos the bus boy broke the impasse by breezing into the establishment with his usual morning cheer that drove everyone crazy…usually. Today it was a relief to have a distraction. It gave Isobel a moment to pull herself together. “Er, who is your boss?” she asked for lack of any better ideas. “Adrian Benedikt,” the man said proudly like she should know who he was talking about.

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“And you are…?” she asked while her mind sought frantically for a way out of this very awkward situation. “Eric Stoltz. Right hand man,” he replied holding out his hand for her to shake. She pumped it once and let it go, smiling awkwardly while she looked around. “Er, would you maybe like a cup of coffee while I straighten this out? I’m sure there’s been some sort of misunderstanding,” she said. “Oh no!” Eric hastened to reassure her. “No misunderstanding. You’re Willis’ sister right? You were at the club last night? The Man Cave? Black jeans, green shirt, sandals, you had your hair up to here?” he said indicating

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the height of her pouf. She stared at him in bemusement. “Y-yes..” she said. “Then it's definitely you. You’re Willis sister?” he asked as if inquiring minds wanted to know and he was just a messenger. “Y-yes,” she replied. Eric nodded his head. “Cool. Well. I gotta head back. What do I tell the boss? You like the car? If you prefer something else, we can totally get it for you; Porsche, Mercedes, BMW…just name it.” “N-no…er the B-Bentley’s fine,” she said with a nervous laugh suddenly afraid he might just go and bring all those other cars as well.

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“Great. I’ll tell him you like it,” Eric said and then he was leaving and Isobel didn’t know what to do. Carlos and Mya came and stood on either side of her as they watched Eric get into a black Mercedes and drive away. “What just happened?” Carlos asked. “I don’t know,” Isobel replied frozen on the spot for a minute. Then she remembered what he’d said and dug out her phone to call her brother. The phone rang and rang and rang before Willis picked up sounding grumpy and pissed off. “What?” he growled.

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“Some man just came into my shop and gave me a Bentley, Willis. What the fuck is going on?” “What?” This time Willis sounded genuinely shocked so Isobel knew he had nothing to do with this madness. “Yep. Just dropped it off cool as you please. Said it was from his boss; an Adrian Benedikt. Apparently it's an apology for mistaking me for one of your girls. Could you explain to me what is happening Willis?” “Adrian Benedikt?” “Yeah.” “Huh,” Willis said as if he was surprised but not surprised at this turn of development.

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“Explain Willis.” “Okay so this Adrian guy; he’s a Russian mob boss; he’s a nice guy. We talked business last night. But before that if you remember, he tried to touch your ass. He probably wanted to avoid any hard feelings.” “By buying me a Bentley. And what are you talking about Willis? You’re in business with the Russian mob?” “Nooo no no. Not with the mob. Just with Adrian. He pays me a fixed rate and I avail girls to his functions, business associates and what not anywhere anytime. It’s a lucrative deal.”

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“Oh. Well…I don’t want his car. Could you return it for me?” “A Bentley Izzy. Are you sure you don’t want it?” Willis asked. “Ain’t no such thing as a free lunch Willis. You should know that better than anybody. I don’t know what the strings are attached to this luxury car but I don’t want ‘em.” Willis sighed, “Okay then, I’ll call him and explain that you’re grateful but you’re satisfied with your current form of transport. How’s your scooter by the way; still running smooth?” “It's great. I love it. Get your guy to pick up his car today okay? Before the neighborhood

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thugs start thinking I have gold in my basement.” Willis laughed, “Okay sis. Calm down, I’ll handle it. Now can I please get another hour of sleep. I got to bed at 4am.” “Yeah okay, sorry. Bye,” she said hanging up. Carlos was looking at her funny. “You sure you wanna give that back?” he asked incredulously. “Positive,” she replied and went to mix batter for coffee cakes. The morning rush was slowly building. They had work to do. *****

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The next time Isobel looked up it was four o’ clock and she was slightly dizzy with hunger and too much caffeine. It had been a busy day though and that was something she would never complain about. But now there was a lull between when the school at the corner let out and students passed by for their milkshakes and pie and the five o clock commuter rush. There was a man standing in the middle of her store in a black Armani suit that perfectly matched the black of his hair. He was tall, broad, tapering down to the longest prettiest legs she’d seen on a man. His white shirt was blinding and he had his hands crossed at his crotch, his legs slightly spread as if he was standing at ease. His piercing blue eyes were trained on her as if she was prey and he was a hunter. Isobel

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shivered in spite of herself before fixing a smile to her face and going to speak to him. “I hear you don’t like the car that I sent,” he said in a slightly accented voice.

Chapter 3 The sound of the man’s…Adrian’s, she presumed…voice seemed to bypass her ears and just go straight to her crotch. “Ahhh..er,” she said. “I’m sorry; it must seem like borderline creepy to you to have some guy you don’t know buying you a car. I just felt really, really bad about last night and I wanted to do something nice for you,” he said, the accent thickening just a bit. Isobel was at a loss of how to proceed. He needed to stop looking at her so she could stop being lost in his eyes. He was staring at

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her expectantly as if it was her turn to speak or something so she mentally shook herself and tried to think of something intelligent to say. “Oh, er well, that’s fine. Really,” she said with a small nervous laugh and a shake of her head. “It is? Great,” he said actually sounding relieved. “Well please allow me to do something less over the top and take you to dinner.” “Dinner?” she repeated. She felt like her brain was short circuiting. What was going on?

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“Yeah dinner. I know this lovely new place that just opened. Everyone’s talking about it? I think it’s called RPM? Would you accompany me there?” Isobel perked up. She loved the concept behind RPM! If she had thought she could afford it she’d be eating there every night. “Yes I’d love to,” she said with a lot more enthusiasm than she’d heretofore been showing. “Great. I’ll pick you up around…seven?” he asked. “Oh, no. Well, I’m pretty sure it's too late to get a reservation for today. You could probably get one on the weekend. Maybe

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Sunday. They tend to have bookings full days in advance. Maybe even weeks.” She told him. He smiled at her. “Why don’t you let me worry about reservations. You worry about what you’ll wear,” he said and then his face fell quite comically. “Not that you’re not lovely as you are,” he hastened to add. Isobel smiled down at her jeans and shirt, yeah right. “Fine. I’ll be ready at seven,” she said. “Wonderful. See you then,” he said and walked out. Her friend Leah came skipping up to her, giggling with glee.

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“Oh ma gaad, did you see that guy? Are you gonna sleep with him? Shit, I’d hit that. You better hit that if you know what’s good for you Izzy,” she said peering at Adrian as he crossed the street to the same Mercedes Eric had been driving this morning…or a very similar one. Eric alighted from the driver’s side and opened the back door for Adrian to get in as Isobel and Leah stared openly while Mya and Carlos snuck looks from behind the counter. Isobel turned to Leah. “Where’d you come from girl?” she asked. “Oh you know, you missed your hair appointment. Again. I came to see if you were dead,” she said hand on hip and head swiveling with attitude.

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“Aww. That’s sweet. I wasn’t dead. Just busy.” “Yeah, well you owe me a hundred dollars anyway, and you’re going on a date so how about we go right now and I can do your hair?” Isobel opened her mouth to say that she was needed at work but Mya beat her to it. “Me n’ Carlos can handle things over here if’n you want. I’ll close up too,” she said. Isobel looked over at her in surprise. If anyone should be leaving early it was Mya. She’d gotten to work first, done her full shift and she was pregnant. “Are you sure Mya?” she asked.

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“Yeah of course,” Mya said. “Okay but tomorrow you’re taking the day off,” Isobel said. Mya opened her mouth to protest. She was paid by the hour after all. Probably couldn’t afford to lose a whole day. “I’ll pay you the full eight hours for tomorrow; I just don’t want you keeling over with exhaustion just cause I left early today and let you do all the work.” “I’m not exhausted,” Mya protested. “Yeah well I am; from watching you. So take the day off tomorrow. Boss’ orders.” “Okay fine. But I won’t enjoy it,” Mya said.

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“You do that,” Isobel replied going to grab her sweater and bag and following Leah out the door. They started to walk sedately toward the salon where Leah worked, hand in hand. “So…tell me everything,” Leah said. ***** Adrian ushered her to her seat. The maitr’d had smiled when they arrived and walked them to a corner table without so much as a flick of the finger on the nose. Isobel sat down, feeling a bit nervous in her little black dress. It was a long time since she’d dressed up to go out, let alone been on a date. Her last date had consisted of a certain has-been actor inviting her over to his place for ‘Netflix

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and Chill’ and bombarding her with all his former movies. It had been torture. “Yes, so sorry I was late I think I wrote your address down wrong. That or my assistant has a personal vendetta against me. Nothing a few short texts couldn’t sort out. I hope I didn’t put you out too much Izzy-…I’m sorry what was it?” “Yeah, sure, of course. And it’s Isobel,” and Isobel frowned a little, Adrian didn’t like that, he stuck out his hand. “Isobel is a lovely name,” Adrian said as he gave Isobel’s hand a squeeze and then he sat down. He smiled at her as the sommelier came to take their wine order as their waiter arranged bread sticks on the table and lit the

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candles. “Do you have any preferences or should I order for you?” he asked. Isobel studied the menu. “I’ll have the 1998 Bordeaux please,” she said smiling at the waiter as she handed him the menu. Adrian looked surprised and Isobel raised her eyebrow, “What?” “Nothing,” he turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the same.” “You don’t have to-” “I insist,” and he gave Isobel what Alexei called the mega watt smile. “Well if you insist,” and there was a smile, Isobel had some pretty lethal dimples all on her very own and they were definitely working for Adrian.

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Adrian cleared his throat a little, “I guess you must be starving huh?” He flagged down a waiter, “Can we get a couple of those famous Duke steaks with some roast potatoes?” “Isobel did you want something else…” and he looked a bit uncertain, realizing he was ordering for her, rolling his wrist a little. “I’ll take the steak,” Isobel said evenly, not taking her eyes off Adrian. Adrian gave the waiter the barest of shrugs with a smile, “We’ll take the steaks.” “Certainly sir.” Adrian stared after the guy for a moment, his brow drawing together and he shook his head a little. It was weird, going out with a woman that wasn’t…in the business. He didn’t know where the boundaries were. “Well ain’t he a gentleman.”

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Isobel smiled, “Isn’t that why we pay top dollar to come here?” “I guess,” and the smile he gave Isobel was sincere, he could only hope it showed. “So Isobel, tell me about you.” ***** Isobel was surprised with how well they got along considering Adrian was an overbearing Mafia boss with a tendency to want to take over everything. He also seemed unflatteringly surprised at her knowledge of wines in spite of the fact that she owned a pastry shop. Dating Adrian really wasn’t what everyone seemed to think it was. He was an attentive man, thoughtful and kind. At least while they

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were alone. Isobel found that she enjoyed his company, and that she could talk to him about almost anything. Adrian wasn’t as harsh as people thought he was, it was really only when Adrian needed something done that the claws came out. He wasn’t as mean as his reputation made him out to be. Sure, he still threatened people to get what he wanted but underneath it all he was oddly reserved. He was actually kind of normal. And the sex was fantastic, no doubt about it. Sometimes it was rough and needy, usually after he’d been dealing with something violent such as an attack on the crew, or if Isobel had been distant or busy. Sometimes it was all shoving up against walls and rough hands that left faint bruises on her body the

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next day. She didn’t mind, she liked the intensity and the aggression because it reminded Isobel of their first time together; one month after their first date. It was a slow burn that had exploded in a burst of ecstasy and lust. But more often than not it was slow and intense. Slow wandering hands, lips that marked every inch of her body. Adrian liked it slow and intimate. He liked to drag it out, it wasn’t about immediate gratification. It was about the journey not the destination. Isobel didn’t mind because in those moments it was like time stopped, like she and Adrian were the only ones who existed. But the biggest oxymoron about Adrian was that for as possessive and controlling as he was in front of people, he was a complete

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push over in between the sheets. Because believe it or not, Isobel and Adrian weren't having hot sex all the time. As much as Isobel liked to climb Adrian like a tree, she liked to just lie in bed with him. She liked that Adrian would let Isobel wrap herself around the mob boss and he’d listen to her talk. Occasionally Adrian would tell her a story about his family or his past and it was always in low slow tones. Sometimes they didn't talk at all and Isobel spent hours in bed with Adrian with her ear pressed to Adrian's chest. Isobel listened to his heart beat while Adrian traced patterns on her bare back with light brushes of his finger tips. But no one really knew this because they didn't see it. They saw the aggressive alpha

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and his latest sex toy who happened to not be a stripper. They saw what they wanted to see. But that was okay because Isobel liked that they had a secret. Something that was theirs that no one else could have. ***** "Thanks for the date, Adrian," Isobel chuckled as she loosely held her boyfriend's hand, bumping into him every now and then as they walked away from the classy restaurant. Adrian smiled down at her and planted a sweet kiss into her hair, laughing just a little. "I enjoyed it as well. Ah, before I forget," he blushed a little nervously, reaching into his satchel before pulling out a decently sized wrapped box. "I have a present for you."

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Isobel blinked in surprise and then gleefully took it, smiling and nearly bouncing with excitement at the notion of having received a gift. She froze though, checking herself for acting like a child. "O-oh, I'm sorry, if I had known I would have gotten you something too…." "Nyet," Adrian laughed, leading Isobel to a little bench just a step or two away from where they had paused, sitting down. He pat the empty space next to him, smiling even wider when the chocolate beauty gladly filled it. "Open it." Isobel glanced up at him and then nodded, carefully tearing through the wrapping paper. "A-a matryoshka?" she gasped, pulling out the beautifully hand-painted doll. Adrian

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nodded and swiped under his nose, egging Isobel on to continue opening her gift. "Da. It is from my home… each one is different," he murmured as he watched Isobel open all of the different sizes and put them back together to see the designs. "They're beautiful," Isobel smiled breathily, admiring each one as she opened the second to last doll. "Since you told me about these, I've wanted one." "Da," Adrian nodded, plucking the smallest doll out of the belly of the second before Isobel could protest. His girlfriend frowned playfully, chuckling with confusion as Adrian got off of the bench. "I know."

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She went dead silent when her beloved got down on one knee, taking a moment to pause before he slowly set his hand on top of the last doll, hesitating for a moment longer. "But there's something I have wanted for a while now, too." He lifted the body away…. And Isobel could only gasp at the beautiful ring that lay waiting under its cover. "Izzy… will you marry me?" ***** Willis thought Adrian was a pretty solid business collaborator. He was less sure of him as a suitor for his sister. He had known Adrian for several years ever since he wandered into his club with his brother. He wasn’t

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exactly Mr. Good and Faithful. However so far, in his relationship with Isobel, he had not come into the club even once. Which is why Willis was surprised to see him walking in with his brother Alexei. Willis frowned; he had no desire to get into it with Adrian, otherwise he already would have. The man might look mild mannered but he’d worked his way up from a nobody to brigadier for Ivan Fyodor. That was no easy feat and Willis didn’t want to get on his bad side. Not least because he was a lucrative client. However…he could not let Adrian cheat on his sister right in front of him. He took a deep breath and headed out into the crowd. Adrian caught sight of him and his eyes lit up. He gestured for Willis to join

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them, making the latter man frown. What kind of jerk cheated on a man’s family in front of him and seemed pleased about it? Granted, there were no girls in their booth at the moment…but that didn’t really mean anything. “Adrian. I’m surprised to see you here,” he said as he sat down next to Alexei. “I expect you are Willis, given that your sister and I are…engaged,” he said with a smirk. Willis stared at him. “I beg your pardon?” he said. Adrian’s head dropped, “I realize I should have asked you first but…your sister, she’s a modern woman. She likes to be

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independent,” Adrian put air quotes on the last word like they all knew what a crock of shit that was. “Anyway, so I asked her to marry me and she said yes. So I am here to ask your permission for your sister’s hand in marriage.” Willis stared at him. “Are you shittin’ me?” he just came right out and asked. “I shit you not. What else would I be doing here sans clients?” he asked. Good question. Willis thought. “So, Willis? Do I have your permission?” Adrian asked. *****

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Isobel huffed out a frustrated breath. "These are ridiculous! You must have something more...understated." The salesman looked down his nose at them, though in Adrian's case it was more metaphorical than actual, given their respective heights. He sniffed. "Sir and madam, these are the finest items in our collection. Everyone who is anyone shops here, and this collection is one of our most requested. I'm sure if there's nothing here you care for, our artisans can craft--" "I think I like these, Izzy," Adrian said, twirling two huge, diamond-encrusted rings in his fingers.

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Isobel put her hands on her hips. "These rings are huge and tacky and ostentatious!" She was getting really frustrated; Adrian was being ridiculous. Adrian sorted some more through the rings spread out on the counter. He picked one up that had pink and blue and yellow and silver and a bunch of other colors on it. "This one would look splendid with your black skin. Or how about these!" He held up a ring set. "One of those has a nut on it, and the other has a bolt!" Isobel hissed. "There isn't even a word for how tacky that is!" Adrian waggled his eyebrows at Isobel. "It is kind of, you know, symbolic and everything."

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Isobel suppressed the thoughts that statement led to. She wasn't going to get aroused in a fucking exclusive jewelry store in the most affluent part of town. Especially when she was mad at Adrian. "Don't try to distract me. We need a simple band, plain gold or silver." "Come on," Adrian whined. "We've been looking for rings for weeks. Stop being so stubborn." "You're accusing me of being stubborn?" Isobel shook her head, suddenly exhausted. "Maybe the whole ring thing was a bad idea." "Maybe so," Adrian said, setting the rings down carefully.

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Isobel drove a little too fast on the way home. Adrian stared out the window the whole time. "I'm going to bake," Isobel announced tightly. "Whatever," Adrian said. After an hour of trying unsuccessfully to finish up a new recipe she was working on, Isobel threw down the pen. "Fuck." This was about the time she would normally go find Adrian and talk over whatever the roadblock was in her cooking. She had heard Adrian banging around in his den earlier, but there'd been total silence for a while. Maybe Adrian had gone to bed. Or maybe he'd gotten so frustrated with Isobel that he'd left, gone out. Or maybe--

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She got up and walked down the hall to the den. Adrian was there, in the adjacent family room, lying on the sofa. It looked like he'd been trying to write something, too, because one of his notebooks was on the floor, but his arm was covering his eyes. Isobel could tell he wasn't asleep, though, by his breathing. Isobel's throat felt suddenly a little tight. She bit her lip. "Um." "Hey." Adrian didn't move. Isobel wished Adrian would uncover his eyes. She took a couple of steps toward the sofa, then stopped. "Are you--" There was silence.

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Okay, yeah, Isobel had been kind of a bridezilla. For a while. She closed the remaining distance and crouched down next to the sofa, grabbed Adrian's free hand and squeezed. "Sorry. I've been an asshole." Adrian uncovered his face and pressed his lips together. "You have been…difficult." "I just--I want it to be something that's like you. I don't want you to change for me." She took a breath. "I want you to be happy." Adrian looked at her for a minute. "I'm not leaving you." Isobel breathed out hard. She squeezed Adrian's hand and swallowed. "I don't think you--" Even as she said it, she realized,

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yeah, no, she did think that, somewhere inside. Adrian shook his head, cutting her off. "Not happening. And I like who you are, all the crazy and sexy and cool…." One of his stealth smiles started curling up the corner of his mouth. "I want a ring that says, Isobel Bryant is mine, bitches." Isobel smiled a little back at him. "You know I'd like that. But I want one that says Adrian fucking Benedikt is mine." She looked hard at Adrian. "You were totally picking those rings because you thought that was what I'd want." Adrian squeezed Isobel's hand. "And you were doing the same thing."

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"Yeah." Isobel settled down onto the floor and stroked Adrian's ring finger. "I just want to marry you Izzy; I don’t care what kind of ball and chain you want on my finger," Adrian said softly. "Oh ha ha, ball and chain my ass. I’m not the super possessive one in this relationship." "Yeah, yeah, no need to rub it in. I know I have problems." Isobel looked up at Adrian through her eyelashes. "So. We're both terrified, basically?" Adrian laughed. "That about sums it up, I think."

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Isobel held Adrian's hand in both of hers. "What if we, that little store in Venice, you know, the one with the woman who designs things?" "Mmm, the one that guarantees no small children or slave-wage peasants were used in their making?" Isobel nodded. "That one. What if we got something with our different heritages, like the dolls? Birth stones or Faberge eggs or something. Nothing flashy, just subtle but--" Adrian smiled at him and squeezed his hand back. "But not plain, either." They smiled at each other for a while.

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"Is it okay to still be terrified, though?" Adrian's voice was gentle. Isobel said, "If you weren't, I'd be even more scared than I already am," and leaned in to kiss him.

Chapter 4 "What day is it Adrian?" Isobel asked him dreamily. She was lying back on her lounge chair in the red bikini Leah helped him pick out for her. She looked unbelievable. This was no Annette Funiciello suit, this was a sexy, French halter creation with a gold ring detail at the center of the top and at each hip on the skimpy bottom. The top was unlined and unpadded, not that Isobel needed any extra padding in that area right now. Her large breasts filled the halter, hard nipples showing right through the nylon. Adrian handed it to her with a lecherous grin on the first day of their honeymoon. Isobel held up the swim suit and her initial reaction

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was, "Adrian, I can't wear this...! Oh my God, it's tiny!" Then he urged her to just try it on. She looked at herself in the full length mirror in their hotel suite and was slightly surprised. She'd had never seen herself like this before, looking voluptuous and attractive in next to nothing. "Can I really go out there like this?" she asked Adrian shyly. "I may not want to let you. Those men at the pool, their tongues will be hanging out," he replied. In truth, he loved seeing the reactions of people admiring his wife. And Isobel had actually grown to enjoy strutting next to him wearing next to nothing these past few days.

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"Ummmm, it's Thursday. Why?" Adrian asked her. "I want to know how many days we have left. I am just loving the sun. I don’t want to go back to the snow and cold." "I know, baby. I would love to just stay here and fuck you silly till Summer. But we have to get back to the world sometime." He reached for her hand. "We have till Sunday morning." "Adrian, did you see Ivan...when he danced with me?" Isobel asked. "What, the daddy-daughter-in-law dance? 'And now, the end was near'," he did a lousy Frank Sinatra impression.

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"Please don’t call him that." She gives him a dirty look. "Yes. Did you see him?" she asked again. "Yeah, I saw him. Crying. And trying not to. It was sweet," he answered. "He told me Mila was dying." "His wife? His first wife? Holy shit. What was it?" "I know. Lung cancer. She has months. Months." Isobel told him. "Those poor kids. They'll have no mother, and essentially no father either. Sad." "That's not nice, Adrian," she scolded.

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"But it's true, and you know it. He is just not a family man. Never will be. He has other talents, thank God." She knew he was right as she looked over at him through her Jackie O sunglasses. He was lying on his lounge chair, eyes closed; relaxed and tanned. And he was here with her. She knew he had talent, and he would be a good family man. "I'm hungry," she said. "When aren't you? And I keep eating right along with you. You're getting me fat," he laughed. "Don’t give me that. You liked food long before you ever met me," she laughed.

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"Hey! Now that's not nice!" he laughed. "Yeah, but it's true, and you know it," she mimicked. "Ok. Let's get some lunch, and then maybe we can work on burning off some calories," he drawled. "Going for a jog?" she quipped. He gave her 'that look'. "I had other things in mind." "I was hoping you would." ***** Isobel whimpered as she was shoved face first into the mattress, Adrian’s gigantic hand

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firm on her back to keep her there. Adrian’s other hand was curled bruisingly around Isobel’s hip, fingers digging in to keep Isobel still. Not that Isobel had any plans of going anywhere. She bit at the sheet and growled as a particularly hard thrust sent shivers up her spine and a throb through her pussy. She stretched an arm above her head, flattening her palm against the headboard and using it as leverage to shove back into Adrian. “Oh, God, fuck, yeah,” she groaned. “God, Adrian…” Adrian fucked into her hard and collapsed over top of Isobel panting. “God, Isobel, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight around my cock…” He nipped at Isobel’s earlobe

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and shuddered, wrapping his arms around Isobel. Adrian’s monster fricking cock was as much inside Isobel as Adrian could manage and Isobel squirmed, gasping, loving the feel of it stretching her. She arched her back, fitting her hips as close to Adrian’s as possible and Adrian growled. “Yeah. Fucking love it, don’t you? Such a slut for it.” Isobel moaned and Adrian forced himself back up, hands on Isobel’s shoulders to keep her down. “Fucking gorgeous when you’re desperate, Isobel.” And maybe they should have been more worried about the fact that they still had the door of the suite open from when they rushed in, in an overeager bubble of lust, but Isobel couldn’t bring herself to care.

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They had retired from their little cabana on the beach and legged it to their room where Adrian hadn’t even let Isobel get the word “shower” out before he was shoving her against a wall and slipping a hand inside her bikini to finger her open. And Isobel could definitely get on board with that plan. Adrian had gotten the worst of the sand in his shorts anyway, and if he was down with it, Isobel was too. She had jumped up to wrap her legs around Adrian, Adrian’s hands grabbing Isobel’s ass as he bit at her lips. Isobel had whimpered, definitely in a very girly way, but it wasn’t her fault. She got all tingly when Adrian was dominating. Then Adrian had thrown her on the bed, started ripping off her bikini and Isobel had whined again, not able to get naked fast enough.

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Adrian gripped Isobel’s shoulders and hauled her up against Adrian’s chest, each of Adrian’s thrusts slightly lifting her as he sucked at her neck. “Fuck…” Isobel breathed, one hand reaching up to tangle in Adrian’s hair, the other reaching down to palm her tit. Adrian slapped her hand away and palmed her breast himself. “Mine,” Adrian snarled. “Don’t fucking touch.” Isobel shifted from knee to knee, liquid heat and want pooling inside her. “Adrian…” Her free hand clutched Adrian’s thigh and she thrust into the friction of Adrian’s tight grip.

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Adrian licked up Isobel’s jaw, flicked at her earlobe and swirled around the edge of Isobel’s ear. “You ready to come, Isobel? Do you want to?” “Oh yes, Adrian,” Isobel moaned, leaning her head back onto Adrian’s shoulder. “Oh yeah, you know I do.” Adrian’s chuckle was positively evil. “How bad do you want it, Isobel?” Isobel hissed and bit her lip. Oh fuck no. No, she wasn’t going to do that again. Getting fucked was one thing but that? No, Isobel was not going there. She snarled and fucked herself back onto Adrian’s cock, focusing on how good it felt splitting her open. Fuck Adrian and his control issues. Isobel didn’t need

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him anyway. Not when his cock was shoved so far up her, that she was sure she could taste it. Isobel felt her inner muscles tighten and her breath hitched. Oh fuck yes, so damn close—Adrian slowed down his steady pumping, stopping her from coming and Isobel groaned. “Damn it, Adrian! I need to come!” “You think I don’t know your tells, Isobel?” Adrian whispered. “You think I don’t know when you’re about to come? Stop fucking around and be a good girl and ask nicely.” “Fuck!” Isobel wailed, tossing her head to the side.

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Adrian ran his hand over her breast, thumb sliding quickly over the nipple, making it stand to attention and he slammed into Isobel again. “Come on, Isobel. Come on, baby. Do you want me to let you come? Ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you just because you’re so fucking pretty on my cock, your legs spread like a good little sl- girl—” Isobel broke. “Please! Please, Adrian!” Adrian smiled and nipped at Isobel’s throat and teased her with a light, barely there touch. “Did you want something, Isobel?” “Please let me come, Adrian!” Isobel thrust desperately at Adrian, sobbing when she met nothing but air. “Oh God, please, Jesus fucking Christ, please!”

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“Yeah,” Adrian purred and two hard strokes was all it took, stars exploding behind Isobel’s closed eyes and she was shaking and shuddering to completion, wetness seeping out of her and coating Adrian’s dick. Isobel’s thighs trembled with the strain of holding her now boneless body up and Adrian wrapped two firm arms around her chest, nuzzling under her jaw as he fucked into her. She jerked and writhed with aftershocks and the feel of Adrian inside of her and she felt Adrian pulse inside of her, flooding her with warmth. Isobel hummed and screwed her inner muscles down more firmly on Adrian. “Mmm, yeah, Adrian.”

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Adrian licked at Isobel’s throat, his hands sliding down her breasts, over her belly and onto her thighs, slipping between them. “Isobel,” he groaned and gripped Isobel’s nub. Isobel yelped and jumped as Adrian’s fingers feathered over her sensitive, still swollen clitoris. “Jesus, Adrian, give a girl a breather, okay?” Isobel frowned down at herself. Why was she still aroused, anyway? “Isobel, I can’t…I’m not…” Isobel turned her head, pushing her face against Adrian’s hair. “You okay, Adrian?” She stroked her palm over Adrian’s thigh. “Adrian?”

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Adrian groaned and thrust his hips shallowly. He panted against Isobel’s shoulder and gripped Isobel’s clitoris more firmly, one hand sliding up to pinch at Isobel’s nipple. “One more time, Isobel. Let’s go again.” Isobel pulled a face. “Adrian, I’m not the freaking Energizer Bunny, here.” “You’re still swollen and leaking, Isobel. You want it. You’ll love it. I promise.” And with Adrian pulling so insistently on her nub and her admittedly dripping with come and arousal, it wasn’t like Isobel could say no. Adrian pushed her forward, Isobel letting out a surprised squeak before she could stop herself and just barely catching herself in time. “Fuck, Adrian!”

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“That’s the general idea, baby,” Adrian whispered and flipped her over onto her back. Isobel’s eyes widened and she clutched at the sheet as she felt Adrian’s cock twist inside of her. “Jesus.” His come was wet behind her back and Isobel flushed as Adrian shoved her legs wider and started a gentle rhythm. Christ, but that probably shouldn’t be as hot as Isobel was finding it—knowing that Adrian was fucking into his come and feeling a bit of that come drizzling out Isobel’s hole with each thrust of Adrian’s cock. Isobel moaned and ran her hands over Adrian’s chest, loving the hard muscles under her fingertips. Isobel felt her own orgasm

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bearing down upon her and stared down in disbelief. “Told you, you could,” Adrian said and gripped Isobel’s hips to lift her up and slam into her. Isobel’s back arched, her hands reached over her head to claw at the bed and Adrian growled, one massive paw clamping onto Isobel’s wrists. Isobel gasped and twisted as Adrian kept fucking into her. “Love fucking you like this, Isobel,” Adrian whispered. “Holding you down and fucking you, watching your face as I shove into you, watching you just take it.” Isobel hooked her ankles behind Adrian’s back, yanking her husband closer to her and down on top. “So fucking pretty, Isobel. God, your mouth…”

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Adrian slammed into her harder, rougher and she opened her mouth to catch her breath, gagging when Adrian jammed two fingers between her lips. Isobel tasted herself and she closed her eyes and licked at the invading digits, suckling on them like she knew Adrian wanted. He fucked them into her mouth, matching the rhythm he was setting in Isobel’s pussy. She whined and pulled against the grip Adrian had on her wrists, struggled against the restraint. Christ but she was on the edge. She needed… “Do you think you could come again, Isobel?” Isobel shuddered and nodded. Fucking yeah, she was fucking positive of it. Either that, or she was going to die from the sheer

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want burning through her veins. Adrian pulled his fingers out of Isobel’s mouth and wrapped them, wet, around Isobel’s clit, rubbing her off again even as he pumped into her. Isobel keened as she came again, her heels digging into Adrian’s back as she arched off the bed and shuddered to completion. Her eyes unfocused, Isobel panted as she came down from the high, feeling the burn of Adrian’s cock still fucking into her, her legs spread wide by him. “Adrian,” she breathed, fingers gripping uselessly at the sheet above her head. Adrian sunk his teeth into Isobel’s shoulder as he came, more warmth flowing into Isobel in short, throbbing thrusts. She whined as he

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released her arms to grip her hips in both massive paws, slamming her down onto his cock on the final thrust. Mind blank and brain dribbling out her vagina, Isobel slumped against the bed. Fuck. And then Adrian started to move again. Isobel’s eyes snapped open. “What the fuck…?” She stared between her legs at Adrian still pounding away at Isobel’s sore vagina. Adrian glanced up at Isobel, heat in his eyes and Isobel shivered. “Adrian?” “We’re not done, Isobel. Not by a long shot.” And he hauled Isobel up and onto his lap. Isobel pushed at Adrian’s chest. “Hey, hey, hey!” Adrian licked at Isobel’s ear and pushed his hands into Isobel’s curly mass of hair,

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angling Isobel’s head to kiss her. Adrian thrust his tongue into herIsobel’s mouth, doing a dance with it around her own and Isobel moaned, her own hands rising to grip his face. She felt herself start to leak again. “No fucking way…” she breathed, staring incredulously down in between their bodies, at the sight of Adrian’s dick red and leaking against Adrian’s stupidly muscled stomach. God, it was even throbbing again. Adrian smoothed his hands down Isobel’s back, reaching to cup Isobel’s ass and pull her more firmly onto his cock. “Gonna fuck you again, Isobel…” “Adrian, your freaking spunk is leaking out of me! I think you’re done, man!” Adrian

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moaned and captured her mouth again, his tongue fucking in as he thrust his hips up. Isobel broke free from his demanding kiss, breathing heavy and head lolling to the side. Adrian’s fingers dug into her ass as he lifted her up and down, fucking Isobel onto his cock like she was a freaking blow-up doll. Isobel wasn’t turned on by that. No, not at all. She bit her lip to stop the moan and clawed at Adrian’s flexing biceps. “God, yeah, baby,” Adrian crooned and mashed his mouth to Isobel’s again, swapping spit and air. Saliva dripped down Isobel’s chin and sweat and come dripped over the rest of her body. She was soaked. She threw back her head,

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panting short moans to the ceiling. Christ but this wasn’t humanly possible. Isobel was a sex goddess and all and Adrian was pretty good himself but this was just— Adrian wrapped his arms around Isobel, crushing her to his chest. “Yeah, yeah, Isobel. So good, you’re so fucking tight…” Isobel’s vagina throbbed and she shook her head. Focus, damn it! “No, Adrian, I need you to—” Adrian began rubbing at Isobel’s nub again. “Need to come again? Okay, baby, okay. I’ve got you…” and he thrust his tongue into Isobel’s mouth again. Isobel moaned and her hips stuttered. She pulled back and

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stared at Adrian dazedly, her orgasm still twitching through her muscles. Adrian leaned back onto the bed, his hands gripping her hips, still busy fucking her. Isobel gasped and writhed with the aftershocks but he had to do this. Adrian was going to fucking kill her. “Adrian, God what got into—” She cut off with a gasp at a particularly hard thrust. “I think—!” Isobel’s world spun as Adrian manhandled her again, flipping her onto her stomach and dragging her halfway off the bed to stand against it. “It’s too late, Isobel,” Adrian groaned and came again. Adrian collapsed on top of Isobel, kissing and sucking at Isobel’s shoulders. “It’s too late, only one thing to do now…”

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Isobel bit the sheet on the mattress, sucking the cloth into her mouth. “So fucking hot,” Adrian panted. “So fucking pretty. You love it, don’t you? Such a cockslut, Isobel. Love my cock in you. Love my come in you.” Isobel moaned and shoved back against Adrian. ***** Morning sunlight struck his eyelids, drawing sleep back to the suppressed piece of his brain and effectively awakening him. Slowly, blue orbs were exposed to the dimly lit hotel room, and as they adjusted to the light pouring into them, as well as to the feeling of being cast from the dark recesses of his once sleep-stricken mind, objects in the room

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began to show up through the faintly blinding sunlight. A dresser was cast across the room sat beside a door he could only faintly remember belonging to a bathroom used to it's full capacity the night before. Set across from the doorway to the bathroom sat a balcony, again quite used the night before. The curtains connected to the balcony, shielding the sunlight only slightly, blew faintly through the minuscule crack between the glass door and the wall keeping it in place. Like a silk blanket, the warm smell of cinnamon, sex - or rather passion and love mingled together in one wonderful scent and what almost seemed like...A brief and

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tired smile struck his lips as he remembered that smell's origin. Pastry, French toast, cinnamon bread, and why, of course, a faintly lingering scent of alcohol and, strangely, cucumber. Slowly, Adrian rolled in the bed to his side, facing toward the bathroom door as well as the dresser adorned with bits and piece of red and white rose petals and clothing that did, and did not, belong to him. That tired smile widened, his chest rising and falling slowly, as his eyes dipped to the body next to him in the warm bed, giving him the blessed opportunity of watching Isobel lying beside him copy the gesture, still very much asleep.

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Despite the very light hangover and his slightly blurry memory of the accuracy of the night before, he knew exactly what happened between him and his wife lying comfortably beside him. Slowly, he slipped his left hand from beneath the pillow his head rested on, grinned tiredly, and watched the glimmer of sunlight now streaking over his wife’s back glitter along the golden band resting on her ring finger. When he felt the faintest of stirring, Adrian slowly shifted closer to Isobel and ran the warm fingertips of the his left hand, now wearing the band he was more than proud to see struck so impertinently by the sunlight; down his wife back, making quite sure that they ran along the slight bumps of her

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vertebrae simply so he could feel the light rise and shift of each bump as the other breathed so perfectly. Another shift, and he could see more sunlight daring to strike the warm skin littered with now very visible spots and marks. Unable to resist, Adrian began to trail kiss after kiss, keeping them dry and soft so as not to wake the other just yet, along the smooth shoulder-blades that dawned very light, almost unnoticeable with her dark skin to anyone else not blessed to be in this situation – freckles. He dipped to the left side of her back, easily moving at least halfway down with numerous kisses before he moved right back up to her

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left shoulder. From there, he moved along her long sexy neck for a few perfect seconds, to the back of her scalp sprinkled with downy hair, and back down to her left shoulder. Quietly and slowly, he shifted enough to wrap an arm around his wife’s stomach, pulling her gently to his own chest, marveling at how easily he fit against his wife, as though they were two pieces of a lost puzzle that only they knew the location of the pieces to. He lifted his head a bit, just enough to lean into her ear, and with a tired, rather raspy at least it sounded as so to himself - morning voice, he hoped he woke her with warm words whispered like silk."Wake up, baby..."

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Isobel rolled into him, and with a tired chuckle, he ran his nails slowly along her back, arm still tightly wrapped around his side, careful to avoid the obvious marks from the night before...or rather, the hours before. This moment, right here, right this very second was precisely why he would give anything in the entire universe to freeze this moment in time, to just...stop here. Preserve this moment, solidify this very second as the Earth moved with no care to the two laying in the expensive hotel room, as people only a block away worked with no care in the world that the two people were even breathing. With his body far beyond relaxed, his muscles not containing one trace of tenseness, his heartbeat running the perfect beat

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per second, the faint taste of Isobel, and that she would be beside him for the rest of their days, Adrian wanted nothing else. He didn't want money, he didn't want the Sovietnik - which honestly, was a first for him; he was so endlessly ambitious - he didn't want his family to accept his chosen career profession and give their approval, he didn't want any of that. He wanted Isobel Bryant-Benedikt, pressing her lips to his own sloppily and tiredly in a messy hotel bed with warm wine on a small tray on the bedside table and two golden bands highlighting each of their ring fingers. He didn't want anything but this moment, suspended in time, never to be tampered with, so slowly, he pulled back from the kiss

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and slipped a hand up enough to cup his wife’s cheek, thumb stroking over the skin and his lips turned up in a wide and adoring smile as those brown eyes revealed themselves from beneath those drooping lids."M'really fuckin' lucky, Isobel."All he wanted was Isobel.

Chapter 5 “You want what?” Adrian’s voice rang through the mansion, and Isobel wasn’t sure why Adrian was stunned. “I want Chipotle,” Isobel shrugged. “You act like I just asked to eat your first born.” “You did,” Adrian insisted. “You never eat Chipotle. Ever. You’ll make us drive 20 miles just to find Taco Joco John.” “That’s because no one does Mexican like Taco Joco John!” “Then why do you want Chipotle?”

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“I just do, okay?” Isobel growled. “I’m craving it.” “But you hate it.” Isobel felt anger. “A woman can change her mind, Adrian. Why don’t you get off my ass about it?” Adrian held his hands up. “Hey, alright. Chipotle it is.” “Good,” Isobel shifted with a grin and leaned back, eyebrows up waiting for him to go fetch. Twenty minutes later Eric was back from the nearest Chipotle laden down with burritos. A string of missing shipments from one of the newer suppliers had Adrian running around

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at all hours and Isobel was ready to bury it under a mound of rice and sour cream. “So pakes?” “Yep,” Isobel mumbled between mouthfuls. “I saw it on drop dead diva and tried it out. It really is delicious. I’ll be putting out samples for customers to try on Monday.” Adrian nodded. “Delightful.” He really was very supportive of her business. And he loved her pastries. “I know. If they grow legs then I’ll be the only pastry shop serving them in the tri state area.”

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“Sounds good to me,” Adrian stands with a stretch. “They just might be the new cronuts.” “Wouldn’t that be a dream.” “I have faith in you.” “Thank you, much appreciated.” “So what about you? Problem solved with the supplier?” “Are you sure you want to discuss that? You’re not too enthusiastic about my business ventures.” Isobel waved him off. “You’re still my husband…what’s yours is mine and all that?”

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“Right,” Adrian snorted. “Whatever, Corleone,” Isobel moved to the refrigerator and ruffled through the leftovers. She sniffs at a box of chicken wings. “Just remind me to offer the same amount of sympathy when some gangster takes a swing at you.” “You already do.” Isobel paused then shrugged. “Guess you’re right.” She plopped on the bed with the box of wings. “You’re not eating those, are you?” Isobel stopped mid-bite at Adrian’s horrified voice. “What?”

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“You’re eating chicken wings too?” “Yeah. So?” “You just ate a burrito bowl and three tacos. How are you even still hungry?” Isobel shrugged. “Don’t know; don’t care.” “You’re gonna get sick.” “Nah, my stomach’s made of iron.” ***** “Made of iron, huh?” Adrian smirked the following morning as Isobel took her place beside him in the car as Eric drove them. “Shut up.”

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Isobel was pissed, and she didn’t have time for Adrian’s lack of humor. She had spent much of the morning face first in her bathroom and then the rest room at the bakery and never wanted to even think the word Chipotle again. Good thing her husband did. “So, lunch,” Adrian started. “It’s almost noon. What are you thinking? I’m thinking Chipotle.” Isobel groaned. “Fuck off.” Adrian chuckled. “I tried to warn you.” “Well good for you.”

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Isobel noticed Adrian’s amusement and offered a grimace in return. “It’ll be fine, Isobel. We’ll pick up some crackers and tea on the way home, and you’ll feel better in no time.” A week later Isobel thought Adrian was full of shit. She had spent every morning bent over the nearest toilet or rest room emptying her stomach. Not only did she never want to eat Chipotle or chicken wings again, Isobel was certain she had almost ruled out food all together. “I think you need to see a doctor, Isobel.” Adrian stood over her with concern plastered on his face. Isobel looked up with a shake of

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her head. “Nah, it’s probably just a case of food poisoning. I’ll live.” “I don’t think so,” Adrian frowned. “You can’t keep anything down, and you’re throwing up even when you haven’t eaten.” “I’m not going to see some damn doctor.” “Isobel,” Adrian warned “No.” “Isobel!” Adrian barked. “We’re going to a doctor.” Isobel let out a whimper before glaring at her husband. “You know I don’t like when you use that voice.”

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“I didn’t mean it that way,” Adrian began. “Fuck off. I don’t care. You’re not gonna command me to do shit.” Adrian was apologetic. “I’m sorry, Isobel. I’m just worried about you. Admit it. This isn’t normal food poisoning. And how often does anything affect you?” “Never,” Isobel admitted. She’d grown up rough, with just her husband to look out for her. Getting sick was actively discouraged. “Something could be seriously wrong here. One hour only. Tops.” Isobel sighed. “Alright. I’ll go. Might as well agree before you bring out the damn puppy dog look, but you owe me.”

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“Sure. I’ll owe you for saving your behind.” “And if you try that voice on me again I will kick your ass,” Isobel stood then swayed. “Uh, I think you should drive.” The words were barely out of Isobel’s mouth when she looked at Adrian in horror. “Doctor. Now.” ***** “I hate this,” Isobel muttered about three hours later. They had a private doctor who was willing to see them but without an appointment there was quite the wait. His waiting room was packed with patients. Isobel was hard put to contain her impatience. She was fidgeting in the chair and trying to sneak away from every cough and sneeze passing her by.

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“I know you do.” Isobel sensed Adrian’s nerves. “Could you chill for a minute? You’re freaking me out.” “Sorry,” Adrian offered before running his fingers through his hair again. Isobel rolled her eyes and tried to get comfortable. “Mrs Benedikt?” Isobel looked up at a young woman. She held up her hand. “Here.” She smiled briefly. “If you’d follow me?” Isobel took the lead with Adrian right behind her. She looked surprised for a second before Adrian explained, “I’m her husband.”

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She nodded and directed them to a small room in the back. “Where’s the beer?” Isobel joked. Adrian glared, and she stopped. “Tough crowd.” “The doctor will be in momentarily.” Adrian thanked her while Isobel sat on the table. “Well this is just awesome.” “We’re almost to the end.” “Have you done anything recently, Isobel, that might be considered dangerous or harmful?” Isobel mimiced. “Like what? Maybe, I don’t know, hang out with my mob boss husband while he tries to figure out whose trying to short him?”

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“You might want to leave that out,” Adrian answered dryly. “It was on the top of my list,” Isobel started when the door opened. “Mrs. Benedikt?” “Uh, yeah, that’s me,” Isobel nodded. He gestures to her husband. “And that’s my husband. Adrian.” The doctor shook both their hands before sitting down. “So, Isobel, what brings you here today?” “Well,” Isobel hesitated. “I think I have a bad case of food positioning, but Adrian here seems to think it might be something else.”

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“Why’s that?” Isobel shrugged. “I don’t know; I just never get sick, you know? But I had some Mexican and leftover hot wings one night, and I’ve spent every day since puking out my guts.” “When was this?” “About a week ago.” The doctor nodded and typed a few sentences into the computer. “Any diarrhea or abdominal cramps?” “No,” Isobel shook her head. The doctor’s quiet for a second, and Isobel exchanged a glance with Adrian. “How’ve you been sleeping?”

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Confusion swirled in Isobel’s head. “What does that have to do with anything?” She smiled. “Just trying to get to the bottom of what’s ailing you.” Isobel grunted. “Same as usual I guess. It’s been hot lately so maybe a little less.” “Any mood swings?” “What? No!” Isobel protested just as Adrian choked. Laughter pulled at the doctor’s lips, and Isobel was burning inside. “No, none.” “Uh huh,” she responded before typing a few more words. “Are you sexually active, Isobel?”

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“Yes,” Isobel managed to blush. “But I’m on birth control.” She nodded. “It’s unlikely, but I’d like to rule out the possibility that you are pregnant.” Isobel’s mouth was at her knees. “There’s no way.” “And you’re probably right. But before I can prescribe anything, I need to rule this out. It’ll only take a second. I’ll get a pregnancy test for you if you could follow me, and I’ll direct you to the nearest restroom.” Isobel pretended her knees didn’t buckle when she stood above the toilet minutes later and the double lines appear. “Well, fuck.”

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***** Silence consumed the SUV, and it had for the entire trip from the doctor’s to home. Isobel barely muttered a word after the test came back positive, and she wasn’t sure what Adrian was thinking. “You haven’t said anything.” “You haven’t either,” Adrian countered. “Yeah, well, I’m pregnant,” Isobel offered. Adrian turned. “I know. I was there.” “So, do you have any thoughts or opinion on this you’d like to share? I’m batting a whopping zero right now.”

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“Oh that’s cute coming from you,” Adrian snorted. “Ms. I Keep Things To Myself. I have to spy on your mail just to make sure that you’re really okay money wise. I don’t see why you just won’t let me open an expense account for you.” Isobel rolled her eyes. “You pay all the bills anyway. And yeah, okay. So I’m not good at sharing my feelings. Sue me. But I’m fucking pregnant, Adrian, and God damnit, I need to hear your opinion on this.” Adrian threw up his hands. “I don’t know, Isobel. I’m still trying to process this. I mean, you know what I am, what I do…And now we’re having a baby?”

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Isobel frowned. “I know. Can we even raise it? How dangerous is it anyway to have kids in this life? And will I even be able to work?” Adrian eyed her. “Do you want to keep it?” Isobel was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” she answered finally. She looked at Adrian. “I want this baby, Adrian. Are you okay with this?” Adrian broke into a grin. “It’s the best news I’ve heard.” “Really?” “Yeah, really,” Adrian laughed. “I’ve wanted a baby ever since we got together. I just never knew how to ask.”

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“Seriously?” “Yeah.” “You’re a nut,” Isobel chuckled. “But I guess we better get to baby proofing the mansion.” Adrian snickered. yours.”

“Especially

since

it’s

“Shut up. I’m a joy to be around,” Isobel retorted. “Speaking of which. How the hell are we gonna do this? Are you gonna leave the life or are our kids gonna be one of those who have to have bodyguards 24/7?” “Hey, give me a break. It’s your first pregnancy. I’m not exactly caught up on all the bringing up the babies of mob bosses

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etiquette. But I know people who have kids. We can be better prepared for next time.” “Whoa, hold up. This is it. One and done.” “Right and since you got pregnant on the pill this time, what’s your plan? Abstinence?” “Good point,” Isobel responded. “Next pregnancy it is.” Adrian laughed. “That’s what I thought.” “So where are you taking me to eat?” “It’s not even noon!” Adrian protested. Isobel waved him off. “Don’t care. I’ve got pregnancy cravings to take care of.” “Unbelievable,” Adrian muttered.

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“And I expect excellent treatment from now on. I am pregnant after all.” “You’re going to use this to get away with everything, aren’t you?” “Pretty much.” “I repeat. Unbelievable.” ***** Isobel rubbed a hand over her slightly distended middle. At four months pregnant she wasn't huge, not nearly as big as she knew she would get; but getting to the point where back pain was a common problem as well as all the other symptoms that came with pregnancy as she got farther along.

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Adrian had been amazing though, offering back and neck massages, foot rubs, and getting her whatever she needed whenever she needed it. Anything to make her more comfortable. Sighing Isobel focused her attention back on the book she was reading, suddenly there was a soft, but definite, nudge underneath her palm. Stilling suddenly Isobel held her breath, hoping she hadn't just imagined what she thought she just felt. Rubbing the area some more, Isobel was rewarded with a stronger, very obvious, kick. Quickly setting her book down, Isobel called out to her husband who was on the phone in the den. Hearing heavy footsteps coming her way

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Isobel held her hand to the same spot hoping their son would kick again. Up until this point their son hadn't kicked, though Isobel had felt him. She had definitely felt him, moving around. She could only describe it as butterflies or bubbles though. Nothing this obvious, not an actual kick. Adrian appeared in the doorway to the living room, quickly dropping down to his knees in front of his wife. "What is it Isobel? Is something wrong? Is the baby-" Isobel cut him off, holding a finger to her husband's lips. Taking Adrian's hand Isobel placed it over the same spot where the baby

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had previously kicked. Looking into her husband’s confused eyes Isobel waited till suddenly she felt a kick, and watched as her husband's eyes widened in surprise and amazement. Quickly Adrian tapped the spot again and was rewarded with another kick under her hand. Adrian stared in wonder, a stupidly dopey happy grin on his face. "He's kicking, for the first time. Isobel our son's kicking." Isobel grinned placing her hand over Adrian's. "Yeah he is Adrian, our son's first kick." Adrian rubbed his hands over Isobel's swollen middle, pressing a kiss to the tight skin. "Hey there buddy. Your mama and I

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can't wait to meet you. We love you so much. I'm going to teach you so much, how to bike, how to meet girls, how to throw a ball, how to fish and swim, most of all how to annoy your mama." Isobel flicked Adrian behind the ear slightly at his last comment. Her husband just grinned up at her. Adrian stood up then and cupped her face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Leaning his forehead against Isobel's Adrian spoke. "Thank you Isobel, so much for this. Thank you for giving me this, us this." Isobel pressed her lips back against Adrian's. "You don't ever have to thank me Adrian. You are going to be an amazing dad."

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For the rest of the day Adrian kept a hand on Isobel's middle, smiling every time their son kicked. Later that night when they went to bed Adrian wrapped his arms around Isobel, resting a hand on her middle. Pressing a kiss to her neck, Adrian whispered, "I love you Isobel, so much." Isobel squeezed the hand on her abdomen gently, "I love you too Adrian." ***** Adrian decided that the best way to let their nearest and dearest know about their news was to have a family dinner. They hadn’t seen their families much since the wedding, what with Adrian’s work problems and the

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total lack of free time Isobel had since. She talked to Willis on the phone and Adrian’s brother Alexei dropped by now and then. But mostly they kept to themselves. Furthermore, Willis and Adrian’s family hadn’t had much time to bond. What with one thing and another, they were virtual strangers. That would have to change if they were all going to be connected by this child. “I get that you want us all to be one big happy family, but your parents are barely speaking to you as is; maybe we should just send around notes.” “Don’t be a coward Izzy. It’ll be fun. Your brother’s kids are hilarious, he’s very easy going and my parents are…”

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“Your parents barely speak any English, and they don’t even like me,” Isobel finished for him. ` “They don’t know you,” Adrian protested. “Anywhoo, I’ll make dinner and what not, play nice…but I’m just saying don’t expect everyone to be over the hills about us having a child.” “No expectations.” ***** “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Willis wanted to know.

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“How do you mean?” Adrian asked and there was a drop in his voice that made it sound ten times more dangerous. “I..mean, with the business you’re in and the fact that you haven’t been married that long…is this the best time for children?” Willis said. Isobel admired his bravery. “In any case, it’s a moot point ain’t it? I’m already pregnant,” she said with a grin. Willis tried to smile back, he did. But the worry was evident in the furrow between his eyes and his agitated fingers. His two daughters, Andrea and Chanel were over the moon though, at the thought of a little cousin to play with, dress up like a doll, comb her lovely mixed hair…they were six

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and nine and already women of the world. Isobel could just imagine the sort of things they would teach her little munchkin. Boris and Vera were talking in low voices to each other. From the look on their faces, it wasn’t a happy conversation. Alexei was occasionally translating whatever Isobel or Willis said into Russian. Adrian spoke a mix of English and Russian; while Willis ignored everyone that didn’t speak the same language as him. It was a chaotic dinner, but upside; no interfamily fights. Isobel would take it.

Chapter 6 “Guess who I saw today? He passed me in front of the doctor. That nice business partner of yours. What’s his name? Evgeni? What a coincidence, don’t ya- Wait!” Isobel interrupted herself and Adrian could hear her moving around. Evgeni? What was Evgeni doing with Isobel? “Why are you stopping, Eric? Is everything alright?” The driver’s voice was muffled when he answered. “Yes, just a small accident two cars ahead, nothing to worry about, Mrs. Benedikt.”

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“Sorry, Adrian, we just stopped. There seems to be an accident.” “Yes, I heard,” Adrian replied, tense again. “Did Evgeni say something?” “No, why do you ask? Just the usual small talk, you know. Adrian, how about we go out tomorrow? To celebrate? How does the Chez Gaspard sound? I’m sure Olivier-” Adrian only heard the gasp. Rushing to the safe, he entered the code, his hand shaking. Helplessly, he listened to Isobel’s scared and confused voice, her scream and cries. Hearing his own name mixed in a confusion of “No!” and “Please!” The colt was cold in his hand, its weight welcome.

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Then, Isobel went silent and Adrian gripped the handle of his gun tighter. “We found your weak spot, Benedikt!” someone snarled into the phone before it went silent. Adrian saw white, a constant noise in his head, heart beating too fast. Hot and cold, everything together. His blood rushed. He burst out of his office, past Vaughn and Lev, flexing his fingers around the gun. People leaping aside, but it barely registries with him. Isobel! He could only imagine one spot on the way to the doctor’s that would make an ambush possible, small enough for someone- Evgeni

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most likely- to block the road and letting it appear like an accident. He was right. Police has surrounded the place, stopping cars and pedestrians alike. Adrian shoved his way past them. He saw Eric lying on the ground, breathing and talking. “Where is my wife?” he hissed, grabbed Eric’s jacket and tugged, shaking him. The paramedics tried to stop him, tried to make him back down, but he was having none of that. Isobel was gone and his bodyguard let it happen and lived. “Where is Isobel, Eric?” he snarled, pressing his gun to the driver’s cheek. “Who the fuck

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has her? Tell me, Eric, or you will regret the day you were born!” Eric looked terrified. “I think they were Evgeni’s men, bro.” Adrian didn't even realize he pulled the trigger until he heard the shot. Isobel. Then, hell broke loose. Vaughn somehow managed to get him out, to avoid his arrest. The only thing Adrian heard was the sound of Isobel’s voice, calling for help. Isobel’s voice. Isobel’s screams. Adrian! Adrian! No, please, no. Adrian! Isobel hurt, Isobel beaten, Isobel’s eyes, soulless and dead. Isobel. *****

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The next thing he remembered was the phone call. He stood in his living room, the once white walls were stained blood red, in some places already dried to a dark brown. He licked his lips and tasted salt and iron. His hands were splattered with red and he held his gun and a knife. He blinked. There was a phone ringing somewhere. Adrian step over Dima’s body. Idly, he wondered why he’d killed Evgeni’s friend, but then. Isobel always made him irrational. Isobel! He swore and kicked the body that lay between him and the phone. “What do you want?” he growled. Silence. “Mr. Benedikt? This is Sandra McCoy on behalf of Doctor Pellegrino? I’m calling to have

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your wife confirm appointment.”

her

ultra-sound

Nothing. His head was empty and he felt cold. “Ultra-sound?” “Yes, for the baby. On Monday, next week? The 14th? ” ***** The phone clattered to the ground. The expensive Persian rug has a dark stain on it. The couch had unidentified stains on them that Adrian didn’t want to think too closely about. Adrian gagged and let himself fall forward. The acid burned his throat.

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Isobel was abducted.

pregnant.

Pregnant

and

Somebody was going to pay. Somebody was going to wish they were never born. ***** “Sir?” Adrian turned, surprised. Samantha the housekeeper, looked pale and shaken. Frightened. “Sir, Alexei is back. He said he has something about Isobel, Sir.” Alexei? Adrian blinked and tried to remember. The memories were hazy, but it made sense to send Alexei out for information. Fucking ninja.

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“Send him in. Thank you.” How come she hadn’t run? ***** When Alexei entered, he surveyed the macabre assemblage with a raised eyebrow. “Seems your method is not working, bro.” “Spare me your attitude, Alexei or you might join my masterpiece,” Adrian said harshly. “You wouldn’t be that stupid, bro,” came the lazy retort. “Even if your wife made you crazier than you normally are. I am the one who knows where she is. And a dead person doesn’t talk very well, do they?”

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Three days. Isobel has been gone for three days. Mechanically, Adrian reloaded his colt. His image in the car window showed him pale and with dark circles under his eyes. He felt numb, empty. “I’m ready,” he told Alexei, tired. Alexei nodded and opened the car door. Hefting his M16, Adrian followed, anticipation tight in his chest. ***** Evgeni awaited them. It shouldn’t have surprised Adrian, but it did. He ducked behind the staircase to avoid the bullets and thought, strangely detached, that

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he needed Isobel back or else he would lose it. He fired, emptied his gun in Evgeni’s general direction. The silence echoed loud in his head. Too much silence since Isobel had gone. Not enough laughter and teasing and stupid, loud, annoying music and... Just not enough. Not enough Isobel. No Isobel. He shook his head, crawling forward. Evgeni was gasping for breath, dying. “Where is my wife?” Adrian whispered, touched Evgeni’s brow, folded his hands over his chest.

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“Where is Isobel?” He drew a cross on Evgeni’s forehead, red like blood. Evgeni’s blood. Evgeni groaned, a gurgling sound in his throat. “Tell me, Volkov, or do you want me to visit your daughter like I visited your wife? Do you want to die, knowing the last thing you did was to condemn your own daughter, your angel, your princess?” Adrian whispered softly, his lips brushing Evgeni’s ear. “Fuck you, Benedikt,” Evgeni gasped, his skin pasty white. “Not me, Volkov. I’ll fuck your daughter. And maybe there are some friends of mine who

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would like to join me. Don’t you think? Does she have the same eyes as her mother? Does she cry as prettily? Are her legs as smooth as her mother’s? As pale and soft.” Adrian laughed soundlessly, watched the tear escape Evgeni’s eye. “Why don’t you tell me where my wife is?” Evgeni took a shuddering breath. “The basement. Behind the wardrobe.” Adrian smiled and wrapped his hands around Evgeni’s throat. It didn’t take long. ***** Alexei grinned at him, when he stood. “The basement, huh, bro?” His once white shirt

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was stained around the waist, but otherwise he seemed fine. “Get the car ready and phone the housekeeper of the Dallas mansion. We should be arriving in the morning.” “Aye, bro.” Alexei's grin hadn’t faded, but he left without further encouragement. Adrian took a deep breath. The basement. Isobel. Their child. ***** There was only one sturdy looking wardrobe down there. It seemed out of place, like it had been recently moved into the white, clinical walls. It couldn’t be more obvious. The wardrobe was easily moved.

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“Isobel?” Adrian called, as he knocked at the door. “Baby, are you in there?” There was no answer. Adrian’s hands were steady, but his stomach was tied in knots and he was sweating cold sweat. Aiming, he pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Thrice. The monument of his kick sent him forward and he barely managed to catch himself. There were black dots in his eyes and he blinked, shook his head to get rid of the noise. “Adrian,” Isobel whispered, her voice shaking. “Adrian, you’re bleeding.” *****

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The last thing Adrian saw was the pale face of his wife, huddled in a corner, starting to move towards him. He smiled in relief and let his eyes fall shut. He woke up to soft fingers in his hair and the low sounds of a moving car. “Isobel,” he said, his voice rough. “Yes, everything is fine,” Isobel answered softly, brushing her lips along Adrian’s jaw. Content, Adrian opened his eyes, looked up at Isobel. She was as beautiful as always. “Baby,” he said, felt dizzy and his side was burning. Had he been hurt? Had they managed to shoot him? Isobel smiled, pale and shaken, but alive, well.

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It made Adrian forget everything and he lifted his arms, his heavy arms, and wound them around Isobel’s neck, dragging her down. Finally, finally, their lips met. Adrian sighed, felt how a heavy weight just vanished off his chest. Desperately, he licked at Isobel’s lips, nipped until she opened up with a shudder, moaned when their tongues met in a perfect wet feeling. Isobel tasted bitter and stale, but underneath everything, underneath the last few days -Isobel gone, Isobel alone. Evgeni. Isobel. The baby. Their child. Isobel gone.- she tasted as she always did, safe and sweet. Like she should. Adrian grabbed uselessly at Isobel’s hair, took her cheeks between his hands, tried to get closer, to keep her safe in his arms. He

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manhandled Isobel, pulled and tugged and nipped at Isobel’s neck to get her onto his lap, to get her close and safe. Isobel came willingly, whimpered and tried to chase Adrian’s lips, pressing in, in, in, closer. “Adrian, Adrian,” she moaned, hands fluttering like birds, grabbing Adrian, his shirt, his ears. “Adrian.” Adrian pulled her closer, shoved his hands under Isobel’s top, wanting to feel, to relearn every bit of Isobel. His hands were shaking as he pulled Isobel’s pants down, out of the way, grabbing Isobel’s naked butt, pulling her against his groin. They moaned, Isobel half-aroused already, her face glowing, eyes gleaming with the adrenaline high of it all.

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Adrian watched how Isobel looked around frantically, pulling her top off, before leaning to the side, rummaging around the compartment, somehow getting rid of her pants in the progress. His beautiful wife. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, stroking Isobel’s sides, tugging at her curly locks, pinching her nipples, just to hear her breath hitch, to see her smile, to watch her eyes get brighter and her cheeks glow. Then Isobel was back, fumbling with Adrian’s pants, trying to get them open. Adrian gasped, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Isobel’s neck, and biting her collarbone. Adrian was too rushed as he breached Isobel, causing her to hiss against Adrian’s cheek.

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“Sorry, sorry,” Adrian said, tried going slowly, tenderly, but his hands were shaking and his hips wouldn’t stop moving up against Isobel and he just couldn’t. He needed. “Okay, okay,” Isobel answered, humping against Adrian’s stomach, just as desperate as Adrian felt. “Just. Come on. Just. Adrian,” she mumbled, mouthing along Adrian’s jaw, hands moving without purpose over Adrian’s body. Quickly, Adrian slicked his cock and then, finally, Isobel was sinking down, taking him in. It was almost too much, Adrian frozen with the sensation, his hips bucking up helplessly. Isobel was beautiful like this, head thrown back, her mouth slack, vagina heated with the increased metabolism of pregnancy, libido on

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fleek. Her eyes were fluttering, like they couldn’t decide to fall closed. “Isobel,” Adrian whispered, wonderingly, and Isobel moaned, letting her head fall forward, her smooth rounded cheek brushing against Adrian’s, her breath hot on his neck. Adrian’s hands found their way into Isobel’s hair, his mouth was moving aimlessly along Isobel’s nape, his hips thrusting restlessly. Their breathing went ragged and Isobel moaned with every thrust, moving back, hands under Adrian’s shirt, careful of his wound. It was over too soon. Just movement and hot breath. Their lips met and rubbed together in a futile attempt to kiss and Adrian moaned and came. Isobel shuddered above him, whimpering.

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***** “Isobel,” he mumbled against his wife’s lips, couldn’t bring himself to let go. Isobel was safe. Safe and with him. Alive. Isobel was a sticky mess on top of him and Adrian couldn’t care less. Could not bring himself to care. Isobel blinked up at him, her cheeks still glowing, whispered softly: “I know.” She smiled. ***** She was okay, really she was… She knew it was Adrian. She knew she was back home and was as safe as she could be. She did know this… but knowing didn’t seem to make a whole lot of difference.

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Only a few days after Adrian rescued her from the mobster who kidnapped her, Isobel started to realize the whole thing affected her a lot more than she thought it did. Isobel couldn’t sleep when Adrian was in the mansion. This felt terribly wrong, because it was Adrian and he was there, and Isobel had almost always felt safer with Adrian around. Adrian knew how to take care of himself and he knew how to take care of Isobel. He was the best Avtorityet out there, and that was not even Isobel’s bias as his wife speaking, because Isobel wasn’t the only one who had said so. But she didn’t feel that underlying sense of safety anymore – it had been ripped away and dissolved and Isobel had no idea how to

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get it back. She went into her bedroom; it adjoined Adrian’s and she hadn’t slept in it once before the kidnapping; and after a moment’s hesitation, she locked the door and ignored the tremble in her fingers. It was cold in here, that was all. It was just a shiver. She sat on the bed and couldn’t bring herself to turn off the light, feeling suddenly anxious. Isobel had never been afraid of the dark, even with all her knowledge of what lurked in the dark. This was the mansion, this place was guarded and fortified and secret, and safer than any place Isobel had ever been. More home than any place Isobel had ever been – simply by being the one place she had stayed put the longest.

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But she couldn’t reach over and flip off the lamp all the same. She lay down on the bed and slid her hand under her pillow, feeling the loaded gun there. Her shoulders relaxed involuntarily as she gently wrapped her fingers around the grip. After a while, she even let her eyes slide shut. She heard Adrian shuffling around in the hallway outside her door and Isobel tensed, eyes snapping open. She jolted to a sitting position, gun in hand, aimed at the door. It was okay, she told herself as the blood rushed in her ears. It was just Adrian. It was okay.

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But Isobel’s neck felt prickly and her breathing was shallow and she swore she could hear the metal of a hammer bump against the wall… Adrian’s footsteps receded without slowing, and Isobel exhaled. Those steps are normal – those are familiar. They’re not full of murder and malice, calculation and evil. Isobel let her arms drop and she exhaled again, heavy with inexplicable relief. She’d rather not sleep anyways for fear of nightmares. So instead, she stayed up late reading cookery books to keep her mind occupied. She sat facing the door with a dagger on the desk within easy reach and pretended it was only out of precaution and

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regular Avtorityet’s wife vigilance and nothing more. She was fine, it was fine. She only needed some time to get over the whole… kidnapping thing. ***** Isobel had her nose buried in another fat volume of cooking lore a few days later. She was not researching anything specifically, the pakes were doing okay but it was too soon to call it and she didn’t want to move on to something else and confuse people’s palates; she just found a lot of the stuff interesting regardless. She reached absently for her mug to take a sip of coffee.

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“Izzy?” Isobel reacted without thought – it was pure instinct that had her bolting out of her chair, knocking it over with a crash. The mug shattered on the floor and Isobel’s heart was pounding in her ears as her eyes darted around for the nearest weapon. Adrian wasn’t here and Isobel couldn’t fight Evgeni off with nothing but her bare hands – her right was in a sling and oh God her gun was in her room – “Izzy…so sexy with your little belly there Izzy. You think that husband of yours is gonna save you but he won’t. He don’t care and oh the things Imma do to that baby of yours…I can’t wait.”

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Adrian came hurrying into the room holding a couple of bags of food. He saw the broken mug and glanced around with worry. “You okay? What happened?” “N-nothing,” said Isobel, catching her breath, struggling to rein in her sudden anxiety. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine, it’s over… She straightened up, working hard to seem normal. She didn’t have to work hard to look as exhausted as she felt. “Must’ve dozed off. You scared me.” She forced a smile and a chuckle. Her husband wasn’t convinced, and Adrian watched Isobel searchingly for a moment before crossing the room and setting the food

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down on the table. The line of his shoulders was tense and his voice was thick with emotion when he spoke, though Isobel could tell he was working hard to hide it. “Sorry,” Adrian said, bending over to clean up the broken mug. “No, it’s fine,” Isobel replied hastily. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unconsciously moving away from Adrian. When Adrian stood up with a handful of ceramic, he looked like he really, really wanted to say something but the words hurt too much, and instead he brushed by Isobel mumbling that he would get the forks, and a mop. Isobel let him go and picked up her chair.

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It’s all right, she thought. I’m fine. It had never been hard to lie to herself. ***** Isobel would not admit it, but she had never felt this jumpy before. She was trying so damn hard not to be, because the look in Adrian’s eyes whenever she involuntarily reacted to something perfectly normal absolutely killed her. Adrian used to call her “Izzy” out of affection, and he was the only one aside from her brother, Isobel would allow that because it was Adrian, and it was her husband. Now when he said it, regardless of the tone, Isobel flinched. The nickname had been tainted

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– hearing it pass through Adrian’s lips made her think of anger and Evgeni and blood and toxic fear. Adrian must’ve noticed, because lately he was being very careful not to use the nickname. He stumbled and almost said it a lot, and Isobel pretended not to notice, the same way Adrian pretended he didn’t move slowly and deliberately around Isobel now too. Or that he made a lot of extra noise when he was moving around the mansion, because he had walked in and startled her half to death far too many times. And they didn’t talk about it because they don’t talk. Not about anything of substance, anyway. Not anymore.

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“You… sleep okay?” Adrian asked awkwardly one morning. No, thought Isobel. I slept for an hour where I dreamed Evgeni was trying to murder me with an ax and then I stayed awake until the sun came up. She shrugged. “Yeah, fine. You?” Adrian shrugged too, and Isobel knew him well enough to see the dark circles under her husband’s eyes. “Yeah, good.” Adrian settled in a chair at the far end of the table with a cup of coffee. Isobel knew he was lying too – she heard him calling out in the night, and she had jumped up to investigate. She’d had her

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hand on Adrian’s doorknob when she realized Adrian was crying softly in his room. Isobel had stood there hesitating, gut twisting, and eventually backed up and retreated to her own room. (When had they become so far apart that Isobel couldn’t figure out a way to even try to comfort her husband in the middle of the night?) Isobel shifted uneasily at the memory. She should’ve opened the door, she should’ve… She glanced up at Adrian, who casually ran his fingers through his hair and Isobel shivered with something she couldn’t name and had to look away. Adrian’s hair was too long and Isobel had to work hard to pretend it didn’t bother her.

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***** Isobel was in the kitchen cooking up some food, and it was a hell of a lot easier now that she had the sling off. Adrian went out for some unspecified business a while ago, and she insisted on cooking herself – she didn’t see the need to get a chef when she had all those years of cooking school behind her. Maybe after the baby… Besides, her stir-fry was pretty good, if she did say so herself. She gave the sizzling meat a toss before resuming cutting up vegetables. “I’m back,” Adrian announced from the next room, and his footsteps seem unnecessarily loud as he approached the kitchen. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got –”

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When Isobel turned to see what her spouse brought, she recoiled so violently from the sight of Adrian in the doorway that she sent the cutting board full of veggies flying. Isobel didn’t even notice the food, though, because all she could see was the dark eyes and a red shirt and Evgeni roaring and the pure hate on his face – Blame yourself for me getting hold of you…so predictable. And the ax and the slow heavy footsteps and the hammer and she heard Izzy and – I like to cut ‘em slow…

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And there’s a hole in the wall next to her and the dark laughter and should I do it? c’mon Izzy should I do it – “Isobel? Isobel!” Isobel blinked and realized she was on the floor, shaking all over, backed into the corner of the kitchen, holding the chopping knife in a white-knuckled grip. Adrian, pale and shocked and worried, had his hands up and out towards her, and one of them had a big slice in it, dripping blood on the kitchen floor. Did Isobel… cut him? She let go of the knife like it burned her and it clattered onto the floor. “D-Adrian, I – ”

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“No, it’s fine, Izzy, it’s okay, it was me,” Adrian said hastily, forgetting that he couldn’t use that name anymore. Isobel jolted like she had been stung, and her chest was tight with a fresh wave of fear and anxiety. She gulped in shuddering breath after shuddering breath, and she didn’t remember crying but her face was wet with tears. “Adrian, take it off –” she croaked finally, barely in control. “Don’t –” She pressed her hands to her eyes, trying to calm down. Swore she could hear the echoes of Evgeni calling her name.It’s okay, it’s fine, I’m fine. I couldn’t breathe, it’s fine. “The shirt, Adrian,” Isobel managed.

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She felt so weak and pathetic and terrified (and when the hell did she become such a complete mess?). She covered her face with shaking hands because between Adrian’s red shirt and the bloody kitchen knife, there was nowhere to look that didn’t make her feel like freaking out again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that at any second Adrian was going to break into a feral grin and his eyes would flash black and he’d spread his hands and say, Gotcha. When Isobel pulled her quivering hands away from her face a moment later, Adrian was balling up his red shirt and shoving it in the trash with unnecessary force. He looked like he was about to be sick or crash to his knees or both.

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“Isobel,” Adrian tried, and it was one of those moments where he barely refrained from using the nickname, his lips fumbling over a couple extra z’s before he stopped. “I’m so…” His voice broke and his eyes were shining. He made to take a step forward, but Isobel flinched and Adrian froze, bit his lip and left the room.

Chapter 7 Isobel was heading to bed, and down the hall, it sounded like Adrian was talking to someone. Isobel fully intended to walk right past the cracked open door and not eavesdrop, but when she was almost there and could make out Adrian’s words, Isobel stopped and couldn’t help herself. “…couldn’t even look at me, Alexei,” Adrian said, and his voice was so damn fragile, Isobel felt like choking. “I couldn’t… I – just me being here… I’m only making it worse. She was terrified of… me.” A long pause. “I don’t think… I don’t think we can come back from this.”

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Isobel dipped her head, tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t want to lose her husband. Hell, she was the happiest she’d ever been in her broken up and miserable life and she couldn’t believe that some PTSD looking shit was going to put that happiness in danger. Especially with a baby on the way. She wanted to believe Adrian wasn’t right, but what if he was? What if they couldn’t come back from this? Isobel was the one who could barely stand to be in the same room as her husband, the one who was having a mental meltdown. She was the one who couldn’t stop picturing being carved like a piece of meat and her baby given some premature caveman caesarean while she watched. She was the one who was low key

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with Adrian for not coming sooner. Not saving her from having these fears. He’d said he would take care of her; keep her safe. Maybe this was the one thing they couldn’t fix. Adrian’s voice was a broken whisper when he added, “I just don’t know what to do.” Isobel couldn’t listen anymore and tip-toed past the door on to her room. Still locked the door behind her, even though she wished she didn’t still feel the need to. ***** The following afternoon, Isobel headed to her room for a fresh set of clothes after a long run. She hadn’t seen Adrian all day,

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save for passing each other in the kitchen for breakfast. Isobel had avoided her husband’s concerned gaze, as usual, and Adrian kept his distance, as usual, the pair of them pained and tense, waiting for the next thing that could set Isobel off. Adrian had snatched up his keys and headed out shortly after that, mumbling something about groceries, though they both knew the fridge was full. When Isobel rounded the corner in the hallway towards her room, she stopped for a moment in surprise. There was a box sitting outside her door. It was moving from side to side as if whatever was in it really wanted to come out. She stepped forward, wondering what the hell. The thing in the box whined

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and she hastened her step kneeling down to let it out. A pair of liquid black eyes stared curiously up at her from a pure white fluffy face, ears flopping downward. The puppy got up on its front paws, tilting the box and almost falling out if Isobel hadn’t reached out a hand to steady it. The puppy wagged its tail at her, tongue hanging out. “Hey there lil fella. Where’d you come from?” she asked it. The white puppy barked once, looking like it was laughing at her surprise. She reached down and picked him up in her arms, standing up with difficulty. “What’s your name?” she asked looking for a collar. There wasn’t one.

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“I think I’ll call you…Tigger; coz you look just as happy as him,” she told the puppy. ***** Adrian got home late, and Isobel was already hiding out in her bedroom with the door locked; she didn’t bother to get up and greet Adrian. She took it as a good sign that the sound of her husband’s footsteps didn’t send her into panic mode anymore, though she could still feel ugly tendrils of anxiety curling around her ribs anyway. ***** The following morning as Isobel was quietly enjoying some breakfast, she was surprised to see Adrian emerge from down the hall

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wearing a slightly rumpled dark gray suit. He was carrying a garbage bag that was bulging and Isobel’s pretty sure she could see a wooden handle poking out by Adrian’s hand. “You gotta be somewhere?” Isobel asked curiously, and fought down the flash of panic that fluttered in her chest for a moment. It’s okay it’s not the ax it was fine, you’re fine, it was just Adrian, breathe. They haven’t had any unnecessary interactions with the outside world in a couple weeks, though primarily by choice, Adrian letting his lieutenants do the brunt of the work while he controlled them remotely. Plus, she figured the fact that she was having a mental breakdown over her kidnapping by one of her husband’s ‘business partners’

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didn’t exactly make for a good, stable partner who could be left on her own. Hence the dog; she figured. Adrian shifted uncomfortably. “Did he, uh… did he wear these type of suits when you were… when he… you know?” He cleared his throat and the naked hope and apprehension on his face hit Isobel like a ton of bricks in the chest. Isobel swallowed and shook her head. “Not that I know of.” Adrian sniffed, avoiding Isobel’s gaze all of a sudden. “Good.” He crossed the room to the large garbage bin in the corner, tugging at his collar a little,

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and shoved the whole bag in, and now Isobel could see it was definitely an ax, as the handle tore the bag a little. And Adrian was throwing it out. Some fabric peeked through the hole in the bag and Adrian quickly blocked the whole thing from view, but not before Isobel could see that it was a bunch of Adrian’s shirts. Isobel noticed that Adrian’s hair was notably shorter too. “Adrian, you don’t have to…” Isobel started, but Adrian shook his head fiercely. “Yes I do.” He faced Isobel and he looked determined and emotional and so wonderfully, achingly familiar. “You’re my wife.”

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Isobel fought back an abrupt wave of tears, and smiled down at her cereal as Adrian settled into the chair directly beside her. ***** The thing was, Adrian didn’t sleep better with Isobel in the bed. The first few nights after they burned the clothes, everything went smoothly. Isobel was pretty sure it was because both of them were running on fumes. The adrenaline worked its way slowly out of their systems. Late nights driving and talking and enjoying each other put them both to sleep, soundly for the most part. Adrian was always awake before her, and Isobel just counted it as another precious detail she got to know

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because she was his wife now. It was the fifth night when that changed. She was woken up when the room was still pitch black with a yelp at the hard kick to her shins. “Ow. Adrian!” He was still asleep, thrashing, and she narrowly avoided an arm as she fumbled for the light switch. The light flooding the room did nothing to wake him, and the look on his face was enough to make Isobel’s heart break just a little. He groaned something that could have been, “No, don’t,” but it was too incoherent for her to make much sense of it. Tentatively she reached for his shoulder to shake him awake, take him out of whatever nightmare was plaguing him. She got no

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warning before his eyes were open, and his hand was wrapped around her throat. “Ad–” She opened her mouth, but no more sound came out, and she choked with the effort. Fuck. Suddenly everything she loved about him was mocking her. She was having trouble breathing, and he was looking at her, but she didn’t think he really saw her. She did what she could. She hit his arm with all the strength her 20-minute workout DVDs allowed her, trying to break his grip at the elbow. Miraculously, a second later she was gasping, and real air was filling her lungs. Adrian had come back to her. He was looking at her–really at her this time–backing up until his entire frame’s pressed against the

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headboard, panic in his eyes. They were both breathing hard, and Isobel was shaking, but she stayed still. “Isobel–” he started, and his voice was ragged, like he’d used his own guilty conscience to cut the edges. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She scooted forward, resting a trembling hand on his arm. They stay like that for a long, long minute, lapsing into silence. Adrian didn’t move. If anything, his posture got tighter. Isobel didn’t know what to say. “I know you didn’t mean to. It’s ok,” she said when she settled on words. Even as she spoke, his eyes were glazed over again. “Adrian?”

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“Adrian Benedikt was alive only in the past.” This time it was too flat, too smooth, like something he’d memorized by rote and repeated automatically. The Bratva. Isobel felt the bile rise in her throat. “That’s what they told you, isn’t it?” she asked in a whisper and got no answer. “You’re Adrian Benedikt. You’re here, and it was your choice.” She didn’t know if her words were making a difference at all. Eventually she got him to lie down again, still unsure how to bring him back to her. She got up, stumbling a little as blood flow returned to her legs, and they erupted in little pins and needles. They must have been there longer than she thought. There was only one thing

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she wanted, and she was up only to get her puppy and bring it back to bed. They’d agreed to take time off from the world and let things calm down a bit, but she had a business she wanted to continue running. Mya had given birth; she was a young mom. But she’d agreed to run the shop for a few months if she could bring her baby to work with her. Adrian had sent over a few girls to help out with busing and cleaning up so she wasn’t overwhelmed. Still, more and more Isobel missed it as she recovered from her own panic attacks and began to look outward again. But it seemed as she got better, Adrian got worse. Maybe he needed Tigger more than she did at this point.

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Adrian lay down beside her, one arm resting over her knees as he drifted in and out of something that was not quite sleep. She rubbed the puppy down; unlike the both of them, he had no trouble getting some rest. His eyes were closed and his ears twitched as he chased rabbits in his dreams. Isobel wished it was that easy for all of them. The sun was rising when she finally shut down again. Adrian woke as she finally shifted to set her puppy down on the carpet beside her side of the bed. She was just glad that at some point he’d managed to sleep. He was looking at her like he wanted to talk, but she shook her head. “Later. I promise.” She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, hopefully enough of a peace offering that he didn’t

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stress the entire time she tried to battle dark circles with some REM sleep. ***** True to her word, later came after she got out of bed, showered, and dressed. Adrian was back from his run. If he noticed her departure from her normal wardrobe in favor of sweats and one of his old t-shirts, he didn’t comment on it. “We need to talk,” she told him, sitting him down on the edge of the bed and taking his hands in hers. “That almost never leads to good things,” he attempted to joke, but his smile was feeble. “I just want you to know I’m so–”

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“I know,” she cuts him off. “Adrian, I don’t blame you.” “I really am happy.” “I know,” she said again, this time offering a smile with it. “But happy doesn’t automatically negate everything we’ve been through. The thing is, I did some research last night. On PTSD. Not that I’m diagnosing you because I’m not a therapist, but then again all they really do is go off symptoms from the DSM V. And I found a copy of that on the internet among all the other things, and see, it kind of fits…” She was looking down at her hands by the time Adrian cut her off. “It’s ok, Isobel.

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I’m…well, you’re not wrong. Maybe it’s…selfdiagnosis or whatever, but this isn’t normal.” “Actually, it’s a lot more ‘normal’ than you think for someone who’s been through everything we’ve been through. I want to help you, Adrian; I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I love you.” She loved the way he smiled when she said that even more than she loved saying it to him. “I just don’t know why this is happening now. You’re finally turning the corner and I’m fine.” “From what I’ve read on a lot of forums, it’s actually pretty common. Adrian, do you realize for the past–” she paused for a quick mental calculation “–almost seven years you’ve basically been in survival mode? Now

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that you don’t have to be, it makes sense that more stuff is going to come up. Your mind is finally in a place where it knows it’s safe enough to take everything you’ve been bottling up and let it out.” There was a lot more she learned, about brain chemistry levels and symptoms and medicines, but she left that out. This was enough, for now. Isobel was the one who needed the information to feel betterequipped to deal with it. Adrian just needed to know he understood.

was

with

someone

who

“So what do we do about it? I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”

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“We deal with it.” She paused and took a breath. This next part was going to be the biggest hurdle of this conversation. “But I’d like you to promise me something.” “Anything.” “Don’t agree until you’ve heard me out. As much as I pride myself on being able to find any information if it’s online, I can’t get a psychology degree through Google searches. We’re going to do the best we can,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, “but I’m not a trained professional in handling things like this, and it was a very real possibility that these…episodes…might get worse before they get better. So if it comes to a point where we might need help coping with some of this, could you maybe

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promise me that we’ll leave the door open for professional help?” She might as well have just told him she was thinking about giving up cooking forever and joining the mob. That wary look in his eyes was back, but he didn’t move, leaving his hand in hers. “I don’t know if I could do that. What am I supposed to tell a shrink? Hey, I’m kind of messed up from having my family held hostage by one Russian mob family, and ended up joining another to set them free and then I met a phenomenal woman and a potential rival who felt overlooked by the Sovietnik tried to kill her?” There was a defensive bite to his tone. “You don’t have to give them any specific details,” Isobel pressed, because she was

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not sure if she was going to be enough to really help him. “But you could get help for the effects.” Adrian thought about it for a long, long moment. He was still while he thought, and that’s how Isobel knew how seriously he was taking it. Finally, he just nodded tersely and said, “Okay.” Isobel nodded as well, unconsciously mirroring him. “Okay. Good. But that’s a last resort sort of thing. In the meantime, well, do you think you could teach me how to…” She felt guilty even asking this of him. She knew how it ate at him that he thought he was dangerous to the people he loved. But she powered through with some deep-down determination she hadn’t felt since she opened up her

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business with little more than a wing and a prayer. “…How to defend myself?” She wanted to do this because she knew it would help with her own problems with PTSD. Burning the axe had been the beginning of her road to recovery but learning how to defend herself and helping Adrian with his own issues had come a long way to helping her recovery. She knew it was a long road to health but this, and Tigger, and the working out, definitely helped a lot. He didn’t even look surprised. “That’s a really good idea. Now?” When she nodded, he stood up. She did too, directly in front of him. “I guess I’ll teach you how to get out of a choke hold first.”

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The compartmentalization was visible on his face as he switched out husband Adrian for crimeboss Adrian. One day he was going to learn they were always the same Adrian, Isobel knew it. He reached a hand out towards her neck and paused, meeting her eyes. “Was this okay?” Isobel nodded. He was fully with her, and she needed to learn through doing it. He rested his hand around her neck the same way he’d done last night but much lighter. Isobel knew she could talk easily if she needed to. “What’s the easiest thing you could do right now?”

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“Punch you in the face?” she asked with a half-hearted laugh, remembering one of Eric’s lessons, may he rest in peace. To her relief, Adrian laughed, and it was genuine. “Exactly. Do you know why?” “Because you’re within arm’s reach?” This one she had to guess. “Because no matter what’s happening, this isn’t attacking you.” He gestured over his entire body with his free hand. “This was,” he added, tapping his temple. “The head was what’s attacking, so you shut it off as quickly as possible.” “And while that’s great to remember for a real life situation, I don’t think punching you

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in the face is going to help,” she pointed out. It was easy for them to relax into their usual dynamic. “No, it’s not. It’d probably just make things worse.” He only had to think for a second before he switched gears. “So the first thing you want to remember,” he instructed, “is to always work against the thumb. If you break the thumb’s grip, I–your opponent–won’t be able to hold on. A really easy way is to just reach a hand up, grab the thumb, and pull away from the hand. You could push against it first to jam it back a little and make it easier to move. Try it.” He nodded to his own hand, still at her neck. She did it, surprised at how easy it was to break Adrian’s grip with just the one

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movement. He made her practice it a few more times before Isobel got an idea. “Could I just turn my neck in that direction and break the grip that way?” “I wouldn’t, especially if there’s a good grip going. See, the throat was designed to take a hit head on. It collapses in that way. But my thumb would be at the side if your neck, right? The throat isn’t designed to take a hit that way, so it would be more dangerous for you to try to turn into that. If that didn’t work, there’s this point about two fingers up the inside of the wrist, right underneath the thumb? It was a lung pressure point, but if you hit it hard enough–like this, with your knuckles–” he demonstrated on himself as he spoke, “then it causes the hand to open.”

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They continue for a little more with defense, but the conversation naturally shifted to what Isobel could do once she was out of harm’s way. She took what she learned and applied it over the next few weeks. She went back to work and so did Adrian. She was working half days because that was about all Adrian could tolerate. She didn’t fight it too hard because carrying a baby around was not as much fun as it was touted to be. By two in the afternoon her feet were usually so swollen she could hardly lift them. Mya was in turn sympathetic and smug when she complained. She had two burly dudes guarding her around the clock; Vaughn and Lev. One or the other of them had their eye on her 24/7. When she had to visit the

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restroom, one of them went with her. It was a good thing her staff were such good sports slash Bratva because otherwise there could have been a major problem. When the bad days came, she took that in stride. It was part and parcel of loving Adrian. She learned a few things about him that way, too. She learned that talking him down out of his episodes didn’t always work. It was better when she waited until he was calm enough and then reoriented him into the world around him through texture. Sometimes it was an ice cube, other times a hot mug of tea pressed into his hands, still others an extra soft blanket. She made him talk to her: tell her the things he was seeing, what he felt under his fingertips, until he

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slowly came back to her. They usually spent the rest of those nights barely sleeping, holding each other and exchanging lazy kisses and whispered declarations of love. The defense lessons continued, partly so she knew what to do in the event of an attack on them, partly because Isobel liked having an ever-growing repertoire of self defense tactics, and a good deal because of how at peace Adrian was when he was teaching her. Isobel wondered if he knew that his whole expression changed when he talked about this stuff. She imagined it was the way she looked when she excitedly rambled about the latest cooking techniques on the market or coming up with a new dish or pastry.

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It was how she knew that, no matter how much he complained about the disadvantages of his job, they were never getting out of the life. This was what Adrian knew, and he liked it. He just hadn’t had the chance to realize that he did. He’d spent so long fighting out of necessity that Isobel thought it was only natural he’d need to choose not to in order to understand that there’s a part of him that liked it. He had uncovered a passion underneath all of that chaos, something he was good at and proud of. She saw it on the rare occasions that she got him to sit through a whole movie; when she let him talk through half the action sequences about what worked and didn’t work about the fight scenes; when they went

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running together on hiking trails and he ran ahead, off the path, creating his own obstacle course. She let him go, and he always came back to her, smiling every time.

Chapter 8 On August 14th, at three twenty-two in the morning, Isobel’s life changed forever. She would never forget that room, Adrian coming around the foot of Isobel’s bed, a blurry shape in blue scrubs, towel-wrapped bundle in his arms. Grinning like he was on top of the whole fucking world. “Look,” Adrian said, crouching down to get the towel-bundle level with Isobel’s face. “Lookit this little guy.” Adrian voice was quiet, just for Isobel. “Look how fucking perfect he turned out.” Isobel looked. And anyone could tell you Jupiter Benedikt wasn’t a perfect baby, but

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what the fuck did Isobel care? She was never going to see it. For the second time in her life, Isobel fell in love. ***** The baby’s movement changed. That was the first sign. One week from the due date and it was a tight fit, she wasn’t moving a lot anyway, but goddamn, she tried. After, it was months before Isobel could shake the guilt for the relief she felt instead of worry. Midday she had a low-grade headache to accompany her backache and general exhaustion. Sometime in the afternoon, Isobel fell asleep to be woken hours later by Adrian touching her face. His hand cupped Isobel’s jaw, his

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thumb pressing under it, against Isobel’s pulse. “Wha’re you doing,” Isobel mumbled, tried to move away. She felt as shitty as before she’d gone to sleep, maybe worse. “You’re freezing.” “Quit wakin’ me up.” Adrian dropped the duvet on top of Isobel and the bed bounced as he moved off. Isobel closed her eyes, drifted into a half sleep. The next time she woke it was with Tigger’s cold nose shoved in her ear. “Thanks for feeding the dog,” Isobel groused when she finally made it downstairs, Tigger

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padding behind. It was after nine, but Lev was in the kitchen, making himself coffee. “Not mine,” Lev said. Isobel dug a single-serve container of wet food from the refrigerator and tore the lid off. She had to grab the edge of the counter to bend far enough to set the food container on the floor, and when she straightened a sharp pain shot down one side of belly. “Fuck.” Tigger looked up from his food long enough to give and extra wag of his rear-end. “Somethin’ wrong?” Lev asked, after a moment.

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“Great guess,” Isobel hissed. And now she was feeling a little sick, kind of dizzy, and the last thing she wanted was to pass out in front of Lev. Even though her mouth was dry and some water would have been nice, Isobel left the kitchen, carefully made her way toward the living room even as her vision grayed around the edges. She’d just lie down till she felt better. She was halfway there when Lev grabbed her arm, pulled her close, and that was all Isobel really felt till her hearing and sight came back and she was lying on her side, Lev crouched in front of her. “What the fuck did you do?” Lev muttered, but he was looking down at the phone in his hand rather than at Isobel.

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Isobel blinked, took a deep breath, tried moving her legs. Lev’s hand came down on her shoulder, keeping her still. “She’s right here, I’m putting her on,” Lev said into the phone, then held it against Isobel’s ear. “Isobel,” Adrian’s voice said. “Yeah.” Isobel wasn’t sure what was going on, but the sound of Adrian’s voice, deep and rough, lessened the confused swimming in her brain. “What’s wrong?” Isobel swallowed against creeping nausea, the off feeling. “I don’t feel great, I don’t feel . . .”

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“Give the phone to Lev.” Lev took the phone back, listened. “Right. Quicker to drive.” Lev shoved the phone back in his pocket. “He’s meeting us at the hospital. Your shoes upstairs?” ***** Adrian arrived before Isobel and Dr. Pellegrino. Isobel turned away from the nurse sliding a needle into her arm, and outside the glass doors of the room, Adrian was talking with the ER doctor who had just given her an ultrasound. Adrian’s profile was intent, eyebrows drawn down as he listened to whatever the doctor was saying.

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The nurse said something, but Isobel wasn’t hearing it. Adrian looked up, meeting Isobel’s eyes through the glass. Without breaking the gaze, Adrian stepped around the doctor, moving into the room. “How you doin’?” he asked softly. Isobel shook her head. She was in pain. She was fucking terrified. “Isobel.” The doctor had followed Adrian in. “From the—” “Everything’s going to be fine,” Adrian said, right over the top of whatever the doctor was saying, and Isobel wasn’t sure who she was supposed to be paying attention to. Adrian leaned in, blocking Isobel’s view of the

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hospital emergency suite, the scrub-wearing doctor at the foot of her bed. Adrian’s lips, warm and dry, pressed against Isobel’s. The kiss was warm salt, the scratch of stubble. “Trust me,” Adrian whispered against Isobel’s mouth. ***** Placental abruption. Isobel’s placenta had detached from the uterus in what Dr. Wilds classified as a moderate case. He suggested immediate delivery. When Dr. Pellegrino blew in only moments later, wearing an evening gown and a full face of makeup, she barely looked at Isobel before agreeing.

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That was enough for Isobel. If she had to hear one more person say “fetal distress” she was going to start fucking crying. Again. She resented how calm Adrian was acting, like none of this worried him. But at the same time, Isobel was grabbing on to that calm with both hands. As soon as they were in the OR the anesthesiologist was trying to explain to Isobel what he was going to be doing. Needle, spine, numb is about all Isobel got. Then there were monitors, oxygen, and one of the nurses let her know she was getting a catheter, but Isobel wasn’t really feeling much by then. If she’d been a little more with it, the whole experience would have been a lot

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more awkward. Total fucking panic cured embarrassment pretty well. Someone moved in her peripheral and it took a second to register Adrian. He was wearing scrubs, a hair net, a face mask— it looked like some bizarre costume. For a moment, Isobel stared. Then Dr. Pellegrino announced from behind the screen, they were beginning. It took a little over fourteen minutes, and Isobel counted in oxygenated breaths. She heard Jupiter’s first cry on breath three hundred and ninety-eight. A raspy, wavering wail that set Isobel’s heart pounding. People moved around, voices said words, but all Isobel cared about was that cry.

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***** In recovery, Isobel held the tiny, wrinkly thing that had just kicked Isobel’s life in the teeth. “He’s so small,” Isobel said, quiet. “He felt bigger.” “Seven pounds,” Adrian said, like he wasn’t sure what it meant. Isobel stroked shaky fingertips over soft hair showing under the cotton cap. Jupiter didn’t smell like a baby, but like candy-sweet laundry detergent and something raw, new. Or maybe it was the scent of her own blood still in Isobel’s throat. As soon as they’d wheeled her into recovery, Isobel had demanded her kid and with Adrian watching, Isobel

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breastfed Jupiter for the first time, persevered through several false starts. The nurse assured her they would both get better at it. Adrian stood, leaned in to press a kiss to the side of Isobel’s head. “Gonna go make some calls.” “Okay,” Isobel said, not looking up from Jupiter’s sleeping face, silky lashes against dusky skin showing faint blue veins underneath. ***** Adrian came banging into the house not long after Willis left. He had come to be formerly introduced to his nephew. It had been a long

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six weeks and Isobel had been on lock down the entire time. “Isobel!” he called walking around looking for her excitedly. “Where's the fire?” Isobel asked, peering down the stairs from the library where she'd been studying her recipe books quite grimly. “You. Me. The Four Seasons. Tonight.” Adrian said, staring at her with squinty eyes like one of the gangsters in a silly movie. “What? Do we have a duel to fight or what?” Isobel asked grinning at him. “A duel...hmm, that's one way to look at it.” Adrian replied looking thoughtful, “I prefer the word 'date' though...”

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“What? A date?” Isobel asked looking stupefied. “I know you've never been on one of those but in normal relationships, the girl dresses up and does her hair and face and the guy comes to pick her up and take her out in public to eat.” Adrian said, with just a little bit of sarcasm. “Oh ha ha. Very funny. This isn't a relationship. It's a marriage.” Isobel said. “Yeah well, marriage is just a relationship on steroids.” Adrian said dryly. “We used to date before..remember?” “Yeah but guys take girls on dates so that they can get them in bed, and you...oh. You

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want to get me into bed.” Isobel said, comprehension dawning. “I won't lie, I miss you. I want to kiss you. Maybe more than kiss you.” Adrian said looking her in the eye. “And you're taking me to the Four Seasons to get my clothes off?” Isobel said, smiling though her tone was dry. “Yes.” Adrian said. He had the grace to look shamefaced, but his eyes were unrepentant. In fact his jaw was quite clenched with determination. Isobel was silent for a while staring vacantly down the stairs.

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“We can't leave Jupiter here by himself,” she said at last. “What you think I am? A monster? Alexei will babysit,” he replied, looking offended. “Alexei....?” Isobel hedged screwing up her face doubtfully. “What? What's wrong with Alexei?” Adrian asked bracing himself to be offended on Alexei's behalf. “He doesn't know about...” Isobel said gesticulating with her arms in a wide arch that was meant to encompass...everything. “He's babysitting for one night. He's not adopting him.” Adrian said in amusement.

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“Yeah but...” Isobel protested. “Look. Isobel. I am going to be alone with my wife tonight. And neither you, nor anyone else is going to stop me,” Adrian said interrupting her protests in a very firm tone. Isobel laughed, she wasn't impressed. “And your wife can just lump it huh?” she said. “Oh no, she's definitely going to like it.” Adrian said smirking. Isobel playfully stuck her tongue out at him and then swung around to go back to the library. Meanwhile Adrian ambled up the stairs to see how the baby was doing...He was whistling.

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***** “Isobel!” Adrian called from down the stairs, startling her badly. “You gettin' ready or what?!” “I'm coming!” Isobel said hurrying down the stairs and on to their room. She opened her closet and stared helplessly at her clothes. There was really nothing suitable for a date with Adrian Benedikt in there. He looked suave and debonair in a wife beater and old tracks...how was she to try to dress up next to a dressed up him? Especially in light of her post baby dishevelment. Isobel sighed. She turned to the box that contained her mother's clothes and sifted through it. The kaleidoscope of colored

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outfits seemed to still contain her mother's essence in them. She had been just five years old when her mother died, and she did not remember her well; but she retained an impression of fun and laughter and an extremely affectionate nature. She kind of had the feeling that the house was always filled with song when her mother was around. Her hand closed on a bright yellow dress, sleeveless, with huge purple flowers interspersing the fabric. The dress was long, she measured it against her length and knew it would be sweeping the floor with her in it. It was also figure hugging and was likely to be unforgiving in lining every single curve of her body. She put it dubiously aside and reached her hand into the box again. Her

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hand came up with a red dress sequined at the cleavage in such a way as to frame her breasts to best advantage. The dress was body hugging until the hips, and then it flared out gaily as if the wind had blown it from below. It reached to just below her knee, and the hem was all ragged like it had been cut unevenly, it went up and down like the petals on a lily. But no lily had ever been this deep red. It was the color of blood. Isobel tried it on and it fit like a glove. Shoes. She scrambled down onto her hands and knees to rummage at the bottom of her closet for anything that might do. She had one pair of strappy sandals that she’d bought in Paris during the honeymoon. They

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were silver, and the heel was a bit higher than she was used to...but in a pinch, they would do. “Fucking date. Who asked him anyway?” she complained to herself as she got dressed then tried to tame her curls into something approaching an elegant knot at the back of her head. Hoop earrings and a chunky necklace completed the ensemble and she wobbled off down the stairs. There was noone in the hall, and she peered into the sitting room to see if Alexei had arrived. Adrian was busy instructing him on the right way up to hold Jupiter. Isobel forgot her discomfort as she smiled at the scene. “Hey,” she said as she stepped unsteadily into the room.

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Both Alexei and Adrian stopped what they were doing and stared at her. “Wow,” Adrian said. Isobel grimaced at him and shook her head at them both. “Shall we?” she said a bit breathlessly. “We shall,” Adrian said, abandoning Jupiter at once to Alexei's tender mercies and coming to take her arm in his. Isobel didn't want to look directly at him. He was wearing all black and looked dark and dangerously handsome. She was afraid she'd lose her nerve if she did. She was still waiting for him to wake up one day and tell her this was all just some huge mistake.

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Sometimes she couldn’t believe this was her life. She’d grown up in foster care with only her brother to look out for her. He’d taken a job as a bouncer in a strip club when they turned eighteen so he could afford to pay for her to go to chef school. They’d lived in shelters for a long time before Isobel was skilled enough to get a part time job as a chef and supplement their income. She’d never expected to be here; wanting for nothing. With a family. In love with a husband who loved her back. Sometimes it seemed like the past she’d come from was much more real than the present she was in. Also she wasn’t sure she was ready for sex again; Adrian obviously was though.

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“Bye mommy! Bye daddy!” Alexei said in a baby voice, waving Jupiter' hand at them. Isobel turned around so fast she almost twisted her ankle in the heels. “Oh baby. Sorry, mommy forgot to say bye.” she said as she wobbled over to Alexei to take Jupiter from his arms and cover his face with kisses. “Mommy will see you really really soon. Okay? Promise,” she continued, distress showing in her eyes and the tremble of her lip. Jupiter didn't seem moved though. Adrian came and plucked him out of her hands, kissed him hard on the forehead and then handed him to Alexei. “Let's go,” he said taking her arm again. Isobel sighed inwardly and followed him out.

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“Now why does your mama look like she's going to the guillotine?” Alexei murmured thoughtfully to Jupiter.

Chapter 9 “Do you like it?” Adrian asked as he led her into the honeymoon suite. There was a meal set out on the table and candles burned from every surface. Red rose petals littered the floor. Isobel looked around, her heart perishing with fright. There was no way she could live up to the expectations in this room. “It's nice,” she said shakily. Adrian frowned at her. “Isobel...what's wrong?” he asked taking both her hands in his. “Your palms are sweating!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Yeah well...I'm a bit nervous,” she said.

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“Why?” he asked curiously, brows furrowing with concern. Isobel shrugged, grimacing with self derision. “The room is very nice Adrian.” “And that's bad?” Adrian asked trying to understand. “No...not bad. Just...maybe a little intimidating,” Isobel said shamefacedly. “You're intimidated by the room?” Adrian clarified in stupefaction. “Aaand everything in it....including you,” Isobel qualified. “Again, why?” Adrian asked completely bewildered by this time.

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Isobel took a deep breath, “No reason. Why don't we eat?” Adrian looked like he wanted to argue but then shrugged instead and led her to the table. “I know you can't take wine because of the breastfeeding thing, so I got us some sparkling cider,” he said as he poured the drinks. “Oh, thanks,” Isobel said with a marked lack of enthusiasm. “I didn’t know what you would like so I had several dishes made for you to choose from.” Adrian continued indicating the buffet table of dishes laid out waiting for them to dig in.

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“Oh you want me to eat all those dishes?” Isobel asked incredulously. “Well, whichever you like. No pressure,” Adrian said. “No pressure,” Isobel murmured to herself, walking toward the buffet table. She picked up a plate, looking over the dishes. Everything was quite delicious-looking and she didn't know which ones to pick first. “A little of everything?” Adrian came up behind her to whisper in her ear. “Mmm,” Isobel said shivering a bit at the sensation of his breath on her ear prompting him to slide his hands around her waist. It looked like sexual attraction might not be a problem.

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Adrian reached for her plate and filled it with a little of this and a little of that. Then he led her to the table and sat her down with old world courtesy. “Thank you kind sir,” she said shyly, curtsying like some eighteenth century damsel before sitting down. “You are very welcome my dear,” Adrian replied faking a British accent before sitting down himself. “Aren't you eating?” Isobel asked him. “ No...I'm not hungry,” Adrian said. His stomach was in knots, there was no way he was getting anything down. It was amusing how

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nervous he was. Or it would be if he had sufficient nerves to spare to be amused. “No fair. You expect me to eat alone?” Isobel protested. “Here's an idea, how about we share?” Adrian suggested. “Sounds good,” Isobel said pushing the plate to the middle of the table. “You start with that side, and I'll start with this.” “Cool,” Adrian said picking up a fork and spooning a piece of pork. They ate silently for a bit. “ I like the pork, or is it chicken?” she asked pointing the dish out.

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“Actually that's alligator,” Adrian said smiling. “What!?” Isobel exclaimed dropping the piece she had in her hand. “Tastes like chicken.” Adrian laughed and then he speared a piece of the meat and held it out to her, “Open wide.” Isobel reluctantly opened her mouth and Adrian took the piece of meat from the fork and placed it inside her mouth. Isobel closed her mouth over his hand and sucked. Adrian's eyes widened and he sucked in his breath. There was a moment where they literally got lost in each others' eyes and then they simultaneously rose and stepped away from the table. They both took a step toward

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each other and their bodies slammed together as did their lips...whatever doubts and fears had been swirling around their heads disappeared like smoke. Adrian's hands came up to cup her face, deepening the kiss as his hand traveled around the back of her head and pushed her face closer. Her hands closed around his waist and she pulled him closer to her. He breathed in deeply and picked her up, carrying her to the bed and dropping her on it. He stared at her for a bit as she lay sprawled on it, her skirt spread out all around her. “God I've missed you,” he said before jumping onto the bed on top of her, unzipping her dress and pulling it off her. She had on a gaily colored bra, and huge granny panties

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similar to the ones she was wearing the first time they ever did it. Adrian stared at her like her body was a painting he really really wanted. “Anything like you remember?” she asked. “What?” he asked but his eyes were unfocused. “My body. Anything like you remember?” she prompted again. Adrian was silent for a while, and Isobel began to get worried. “Oh, it's much better,” he said at last before leaning down to kiss her again.

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When he stopped for air, she murmured, “You really must be sex starved. You know I'm still kind of bleeding right?” Adrian sat up and took hold of her underwear, pulling it off gently. He didn't look because she was still wearing a pad and he knew she didn't like him to see her like that. He threw the entire contraption onto the ground and then unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. He stared at them and then circled them gently. “Do they still hurt?” he asked. “No,” Isobel lied. Adrian smiled like he was on to her. He leaned down gently and kissed her twin

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peaks, first one and then the other. Isobel took a deep breath, her breathing speeding up noticeably. Adrian moved the kissing to her neck, licking his way up to the bottom of her chin while she forgot what exactly she'd been worried about. She scrambled for his shirt, pulling it clumsily off him and then fumbled for his zipper. “Slowly baby. There's no hurry. We've got all night,” he said placing his hands on top of hers so he could help her unzip him. “We don't have all night,” Isobel breathed. “We have to get home to Jupiter.” Adrian opened his mouth to protest but then closed it again. He knew better than to get between a mother and her child. Instead, he

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flipped her over and lay on top of her, fastening his lips onto hers as he eased her legs gently open. “Baby, I'm going to be gentle okay? If it hurts in any way, tell me to stop,” he whispered in her ear. “Fuck that, do it Adrian,” Isobel whispered back in his. Adrian eased her legs wider, took hold of his penis and inserted it gently inside her. “Aaahhh,” they both said simultaneously. “Slowly Adrian, slowly,” he told himself easing gently in and out of her, his eyes closed in concentration, sweat pooling on his brow.

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“It's okay Adrian, I'm fine,” Isobel said getting hold of his ass and pulling him firmly to her. That's all he really needed. He got up on his hands and really went to work. It didn't take long though. The drought had been too long and they were both too hungry. When Isobel woke up a while later she found Adrian awake beside her, sitting crosslegged on the bed, eating the alligator. She sat up smiling. “Something make you hungry there tiger?” she asked a tad smugly. Adrian cast her the side eye. “Oh you know what made me hungry. The end of a dry spell.”

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Isobel laughed out loud, “Oh God, I married a sex maniac.” “Does it count if I’m only manic for you?” Adrian asked impassively tearing into his alligator meat. “Aww you're sweet,” Isobel teased. “Sweet; sex maniac…I’m getting whip lash,” he said scraping up every last bit of gravy on his plate. Isobel laughed flopping back down on the bed. “You re-energized now? Ready for another go round?” Adrian put his plate carefully down on the bedside table. “Da,” he said turning around and throwing his body over hers.

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***** The next few months were fairly quiet. Adrian redoubled security around the compound anyway. Isobel’s bodyguard detail had been doubled as well and the shop was under Bratva security. The upside of that was that business was picking up. Now that it was known as a Bratva joint, a lot of ‘business meetings’ were now taking place on the premises. They were discreet though; her non-criminal enterprise clientele were none the wiser. There was however an increase in unmarked sedan cars parked across the street and the shine of binoculars from second floor windows above the bar and restaurant across the road. Seemed like the Draya Michelle wannabe was out and the

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FBI were in. Isobel wished them good luck with that. She had pies to make. She had a playpen installed in a corner of the pastry shop obscured from any windows where the nanny hung out with the baby on most days. Jupiter was luckily a quiet kid and he seemed to enjoy hanging out with his mom and everyone at the shop. Mya’s kid joined them more often than not; she was fascinated with Jupiter – Isobel guessed she didn’t see too many people smaller than her. Andrea and Chanel also passed by after school; mostly for milkshakes but also to play with their little cousins. It worked out well because their mothers could come and pick them up from the shop whenever they were ready. Once they finished playing, Mya

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made them do homework. They ordered supper from across the street when the mothers were late and on one memorable occasion, Mya had to call Willis when Chanel’s mother didn’t show up at all. “They take advantage of you,” Adrian complained. Mya just shrugged. “They’re family. And with how long Willis looked after me; I figure it’s the least I can do to take care of his kids.” “Okay then but you better give Consuelo a raise in case she feels taken advantage of running an impromptu day-care daily.” “Way ahead of you,” Isobel said with a smirk. She finished warming up Jupiter’s mush and

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took it up to him. The boy was a bottomless pit. ***** Sascha Alexandrovich. They were calling him the ghost, swift and invisible. He wanted control of what Ivan and his family have held for decades. Especially now that Ivan was preoccupied with his sick wife. “Arrogant,” Adrian whispered. “What?” “This Alexandrovich, his arrogance infuriates me. He thinks that I‘m living off the Sovietnik’s legacy; that he could fuck with me.”

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Isobel moistened her lips, she knew Adrian hated when she complained or second guessed him but she was afraid. If Adrian felt any of her trepidation he didn’t show it, just methodically pulled on his long black coat and leather gloves. “Adrian,” Isobel changed her tone when Adrian gave her a cold look. “Baby, stay home…with me.” “I’m not hiding between your legs.” The cold click of Adrian strapping his guns on made Isobel ill. “It’s business as usual, that bastard isn’t going to keep me from my streets.” There was no point in trying to reason with him, so Isobel fell quiet, teeth snagging on

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her bottom lip as she tried to contain her worry. “Kiss my boy for me.” Adrian ordered as he left the bedroom, two of his men were already waiting outside the door; like faithful dogs. “Adrian.” The hard exterior cracked, just a little and Adrian strode to the bed, yanked Isobel up by her hair and onto her knees before kissing her hard. Isobel surrendered to the brutality of it, the urgency and the desperation lacing through both of them. She was shaking by the time Adrian pulled away, whimpering against his lips.

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“Don’t show any weakness.” Adrian instructed and he didn’t have to say anything more, nor did he. ***** There was a string of assaults and three men were found decapitated in little Chanelandria. The police came knocking not even twenty minutes after the first body was found by a hysterical woman out for her evening jog. “Gentlemen,” Adrian continued eating his dinner, cutting into his steak even as the police were led in. The officer bristled, “You’re wanted for questioning.”

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“On what charges?” “You know why, Benedikt.” The officer cast a glance at the baby in the crib. “We shouldn’t discuss this here.” Isobel looked at the officers and then at her child who was taking in the whole scene with wide eyes. “I’ll take him upstairs.” “No.” Adrian took a sip of his wine. “Whatever these men have to say, they’ll say in front of us all. So go ahead, Detective Wayne.” “We have two men who are…” The detective continued after a hesitation. “Gone. Andrea Andrei, Sascha Fyotr and Luca WilLevs. They are all still missing.”

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“Then find them,” Adrian said calmly. “Mr. Benedikt, you’ve been through this enough. Are we going to do it the easy way or the hard way?” “You know me,” Adrian rose to his feet and Lev went to his side. “I always choose the hard way. Isobel, take the child to his room.” ***** The bed dipped and Isobel’s hand was curling around her .45 before she was even fully conscious. “O ye of little faith.” There was a smile in Adrian’s voice. “Put away the glock.”

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“Adrian?” Isobel rolled over onto her back, saw the face she loved so much outlined in the dark light. “If you were expecting anyone else I’d kill them- and then you.” Isobel reached up, “Everything okay?”

touched

his

face.

“Who were you expecting?” “Stop it,” Isobel tapped her fingers over Adrian’s lips. Adrian was just trying to evade her. “You know there’s no one else. Now, what happened at the station?” “They accused me of terrible things.” Adrian dropped down over her warm and heavy as

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he nuzzled the hollow of Isobel’s neck. “ Said I was a bad, bad man.” “How many?” Tipping her head back to give Adrian access to the sensitive spot near her ear, Isobel lets her legs fall apart. “Allegedly eighteen men.” “Adrian.” “Don’t worry.” Adrian shushed her with a kiss, “I’m in control.” His hips started rolling against Isobel’s. “You look so fucking sexy. Gonna let me take you?” “Maybe.” Isobel pushed back on Adrian’s shoulders. He rolled onto his back with a frown, watching as she tugged off her panties before straddling him.

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“You want to ride me?” Adrian’s hands settled on his hips, a finger dipping down between her thighs to slip into her vagina. At his sharp intake of breath, Isobel smirked. She had fingered herself up earlier, wanting to be ready for Adrian. “Fuck, Isobel, wet and ready like a slut.” Adrian fumbled for his belt, got it undone and wriggled a bit before freeing his cock. His impatience was cute; it inflamed Isobel further but she had one thing she needed to get out of the way. “What the fuck?” Surprise echoed in Adrian’s voice when Isobel slapped his hands away. “I don’t want to play games; I want to fuck you.”

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“And I want my child out of the room when the police show up.” “You’re mad about that?” “If your work comes home, the kids are out of the way. ” “You’re giving me orders?” The tone was hard to discern, Adrian could be amused or angry but Isobel didn’t give a fuck. She had been clear from the beginning that Jupiter be kept from that aspect of their life. “I’m giving you my boundaries.” “Anyone else.” Adrian’s hands smooth up Isobel’s neck, his fingers squeezing ever so slightly. “And I’d snap their neck.”

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“I mean it.” “I know you do,” Adrian said back, eyes dropping to Isobel’s mouth. “It won’t happen again.” “Good.” Isobel purred. “It pissed me off.” She lifted her hips and moved back as she gripped the base of Adrian’s hard cock. Adrian hissed as Isobel sunk down on him to the base, and began a slow rhythm, rising and falling as she rotated her hips. It was something they both never got enough of, even after all this time. Each time felt like the first time, the hint of danger and the crushing want and need.

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As Isobel started to slam down harder, Adrian gripped her tightly, moaning when she squeezed him tight. “Let me fuck you.” The question made Isobel clumsy as she scrambled off of Adrian’s lap to get on her hands and knees. Adrian came up behind her, thrust in and found a hard, fast pace. Each movement made Isobel moan into the sheets as he grunted above her. It was over too quickly even though it felt like they fucked forever. Adrian collapsed on top of her, teeth grazing over the back of Isobel’s neck. They rolled over onto their sides and Adrian’s hand moved from caressing her to her flat stomach.

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***** It rained for a week straight, the sun hiding behind angry clouds and the sky remaining a bleak gray. Andrea and Chanel as well as Jupiter enjoyed it, stare out the window and in to the streets but when Isobel brought them out into the courtyard to play in the puddles like she did as a child, they just look at her blankly. “Don’t you want to play?” Isobel brushed back Chanel’s hair. “Look at the water.” “I don’t want to,” Chanel replied, leaning against Isobel’s leg as she watched four of Adrian’s men. They were not allowed outside alone.

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“Vaughn could play in the rain,” Andrea said suddenly. Vaughn was leaning against the brick wall, smoking. He hated babysitting duty; considered it a step down from his role as boyevik for Adrian. He didn’t feel that guarding the wife was at par with running the import export down at the port. He was cold to her, never speaking to Isobel directly but obeying what she ordered because they had no choice. Vaughn was much worse than Lev. Often times Isobel caught him with a look of naked hate. “He’s working.” “Uncle Adrian said Vaughn has to do what we tell him.” Andrea held firm.

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“No, girls-” “Vaughn!” Chanel called out with a giggle. The older man pushed away with a look of obvious anger, “What do you need Isobel?” “I didn’t call for you.” With a snort, Vaughn rolled his eyes. “I’m not your fucking lapdog.” Isobel bristled, the comments from Vaughn had remained hostile over time but never in front of Adrian. Isobel would have said something but she just wanted to keep the peace. “Like I said, I didn’t call for you.” “You jump in the puddles,” Chanel demanded. “Now.”

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“Look kid, I’m not jumping in anything.” “Do it now.” Andrea joined in, “I wanna watch.” “I said I’m not-” “I’m gonna tell Uncle Adrian you were mean to me today,” Chanel pushed away from Isobel’s leg, red coat bright and slick with rain. “He said I should always tell when someone was mean to me because bad people have to go to the basement.” Shock rippled through Isobel at the words and Vaughn blanched. “Go ahead, Vaughn,” Bobby sang out. He was a newer kid, mostly just ran small shit in brown bags. “Dance for them.”

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“Don’t want to go to the basement.” Lev chortled, cigar clenched between his lips. Isobel stepped forward, trying to spare the guy. “You don’t need to-” “Fuck off.” Vaughn backed away and stepped into the biggest pool of water, liquid swirling up to his ankles and into his leather shoes as the girls clapped their hands gleefully. ***** Willis’ kids had moved in with them for the duration, given that they were family and could be used as leverage in this new war. Also, Adrian didn’t really trust their mothers, given their spotty record of child care. This worked out quite well for everyone because

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Chanel and Andrea were excellent baby sitters. Isobel worried a bit about what they were learning from Adrian and his goons but she couldn’t really fault him. He was present and accounted for; did his part as Uncle as Willis dropped by often to see his children. He wouldn’t move into the compound with them but Adrian had posted two guards at the Man Cave to look out for him. Adrian opened up twenty bottles of Dom Perignon to celebrate when the girls moved in. It was the closest to happy Isobel had seen him in awhile yet she still slept alone that night. The four Escalades were gone before the last of the bottles were emptied; Adrian disappearing down to the docks without a goodbye.

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Things were getting worse. They were not allowed outside anymore at all and Isobel felt like a prisoner. “Auntie Isobel?” The door to Isobel’s bedroom pushed open slightly and Chanel was standing there in her pajamas, barefoot; dark brown hair sleep rumpled. Jake, one of the two guards outside her bedroom, was holding open the heavy mahogany door so she could creep in. “Something wrong?” Isobel sat up, pushing the comforter down to her waist as she did so. “You okay?”

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“No.” Chanel’s lower lips trembled and she shuffled forward to the bed. “There was a monster under my bed.” Isobel lifted a brow because her niece was usually fearless. “Do you want me to go check with you?” “Tell Lev to shoot it.” Isobel wondered if it was normal for a six year old to say things like that. “He can’t do that.” “Then Uncle Adrian will shoot it. Where’s Uncle Adrian?” “Work.” Isobel answered though she didn’t know for sure where Adrian was. Even after

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all this time she knew little to nothing of how his operations worked. Once she had asked Adrian in a fit of rage why he could never trust her. Adrian had frowned and told her that it was for her own good; what Isobel didn’t know she couldn’t give up under duress. “Then I’m gonna sleep with you.” It’s not often that the girls showed this vulnerable side and Isobel just wanted to cuddle her niece but Adrian didn’t like for the girls to sleep in their bed. If Adrian were here he would have dragged Chanel out and made her check under her bed to confirm that they were in fact, no monsters under there.

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But Adrian wasn’t here. So Isobel reached over and grabbed her niece’s small hands to pull her up over the side of the bed. As soon as she was brought up, Chanel crawled into her lap and snuggled against her chest. It was frightening to realize how fast the children were growing up, even more frightening to know what awaited them. That night Isobel was plagued with nightmares. She was pushing a stroller down the docks, Chanel and Andrea skipping alongside her and suddenly saw a figure in the distance. The man was dressed completely in white and even though he was far away, Isobel could see him smile.

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“What do you want?” The Isobel in the dream asked. The man didn’t respond just grinned and when Isobel looked down, the carriage she had been pushing was filled with explosives. The detonator went off and Isobel screamed as everything exploded. Drenched in sweat, Isobel woke to find Chanel gone and Adrian beside her fast asleep.

Chapter 10 It had been days since she had had fresh air, so Isobel sneaked out onto the balcony. She sat down on the lounge chair, tucked her feet up under her as she sipped her tea. Adrian was still asleep so she had at least half an hour before she’s dragged back inside. The air was sharp, cool with a hint of autumn. Isobel stilled, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She felt like she was being watched. When she looked across to the other building she saw no one so she looked

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down into the street. There were two parked cars against the opposite side of the street. A man was leaning against the first. Isobel couldn’t make out his features but she just knew. Sascha. Trying to keep her movements steady, Isobel slipped back into the house. She could’ve been killed so easily. ***** The next morning five dozen roses were delivered to the building. “Pretty, Auntie Isobel!” Chanel grabbed a petal and ripped it off.

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“Hey,” Isobel shooed her away. “Don’t do that.” “These things stink.” Vaughn set the last bundle down with distaste just as Adrian came in. “I love them.” Isobel wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck to give him a kiss. “Thank you.” “Where the hell did these come from?” Adrian growled, kicking the nearest bundle over with his foot. “You…” Isobel trailed off unsure. “I thought they were from you.” “They aren’t, what bullshit is this? You don’t even fucking like roses.” Adrian kicked the

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other vase and it went flying into the wall, the glass shattering across the floor.“Take the girls upstairs.” Lev nodded, grabbed each one up in a beefy arm and disappeared quickly. “Adrian, I thought they were from you.” Isobel didn’t even know what to say; Adrian was so angry. Ignoring her, Adrian bent down and picked up a white piece of paper on the last bouquet. “Every sunrise is better with you, Sascha.” He read. “That fucking bastard.” “Adrian, don’t-” “He’s been fucking watching you! Looking at you, at what's mine.”

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“Don’t fly off the handle-” “That’s it.” Adrian roared, he picked up the last vase and hurled it at the wall. Shane didn’t move out of the way fast enough, a shard of glass splitting his cheek in a thin line. The other man didn’t make a sound though, just watched Adrian as he clutched his cheek. “I’m ending this.” “It didn’t mean anything,” Isobel pleaded, following after Adrian as he tore through the house. Everyone else was reaching for their guns, it was all she could hear, the resounding clicks of the M-16s as they were locked and loaded. “Don’t play into his hands. Please. He’s just looking for a way to draw you out.”

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“He’s found it.” ***** “Get your hands up!” Andrea demanded as she wielded her imaginary guns, little fingers curled back as she made gunshot noises. It was something she might have expected given their lifestyle, but it just made Isobel freak out even more. Adrian had been gone for hours and Isobel alternated between crying and throwing up. Adrian wasn’t thinking clearly right now; he could get hurt, or even worse… “Stop it.” Isobel snapped when Chanel joined in. “Both of you, get to bed.” “But the sun’s out!” Andrea complained.

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“Then it's naptime.” “But Auntie Isobel-” “Now!” The girls grumbled but went to their rooms, Jake leading them upstairs. It made Isobel feel worse that she couldn’t call Adrian; and know that he was okay. All of those things could be traced, placing Adrian at the scene of the crime, so electronics were banned for good reason. “Isobel!” The door flew open and Isobel was on her feet in a flash as Vaughn rushed in. “Adrian got shot!”

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The world went gray for a moment, and Isobel stumbled as all her worst fears became reality. “Isobel!” Vaughn was beside her, and arm supporting her. “We have to go, he’s asking for you.” “The girls-” “Are fine.” Vaughn cut her off. “C’mon the car is waiting.” ***** It took Isobel about thirty seconds to realize something was wrong.

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From the moment Vaughn’s hand touched the small of her back, every alarm in her went off but by then it was too late. By then Isobel found herself in the back seat of a van, flanked by Vaughn and tall thin man with a twisted smile; Sascha Alexandrovich himself. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” The man extended a hand and Isobel just stared at him. Alexandrovich chuckled. “I expected nothing less.” “You betrayed us.” Isobel Vaughn. “Adrian will kill you.”

focused

on

“I don’t think so,” Vaughn chuckled. “You act like he’s God, like you and his brat are

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angels and everyone else is there to just serve you.” “He gave you a new life.” “I was nothing more than a gopher and some fucking scrub your little animals liked to punk out. He took in a fucking nigger and if that wasn’t enough he made you his wife.” Vaughn sneered. “ There’s a new breed in town, and I’ll be glad to see Adrian die.” “Don’t upset her.” The Russian spoke again, and this time a hand fell on Isobel’s forearm. “You will enjoy your time with me, Isobel, I guarantee it.” Fear threatened to choke her, but Isobel fought to wear a brave face. She wondered

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about her child, if he was safe and okay; she didn’t dare bring him up to Vaughn. Isobel shook off Alexandrovich ’s hand. “Don’t be shy.” This time a hand fell to her thigh and Isobel shoved Alexandrovich on reflex. A sharp blow followed soon after and Isobel’s face felt like it was on fire. “I’m going to enjoy this.” The man purred and Vaughn erupted into laughter. Isobel closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She could hear Adrian’s voice: Don’t show any weakness. *****

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After awhile the car stopped in front of an abandoned, dilapidated building. They pulled her out of the van by her hair, Vaughn taking great pleasure in inflicting the pain. Isobel didn’t let herself make a sound, she wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction. “I told you I had plans for a coon like you.” Vaughn snarled pulling so hard that a few strands ripped out in the process. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” The two men behind Isobel moved in front, Alexandrovich following. They unlocked the door and shoved Isobel inside. She landed on her knees, the brittle wood tearing thorough her jeans to cut into her flesh.

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At first Isobel thought the blood on her palms was her own, she frowned down at the wetness for a few seconds before she heard a muffled shout. “What the fuck-” The low whistle of a gunshot cut off Alexandrovich’s next words. “It’s a trap!” Another man screamed just before the lights were switched on. The room was flooded with light and Isobel scrambled back at the sight of several mangled bodies, blood dripping down into the wood from the pile. The men were face down, hands still tied behind their backs. Many were moaning, hoarse screams that had died out. It took a minute for Isobel to realize why.

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Like a black mass, the rats had descended, moving in a blob of matted fur and gnawing teeth over their victims. Uncaring of the vermin, Adrian was sitting atop one corpse in the middle of it all, feet crossed at the ankle as he regarded them with unreadable eyes. The lines at his mouth were pronounced, the only sign of his rage. Isobel felt relief so strong it overcame her horror, brought her to tears. “Adrian.” “It’s okay.” Adrian didn’t look her way though. “I have everything under control.” Adrian’s men had Alexandrovich brought to his feet, hands and ankles bound with chain link. Vaughn was dragged over to a chair,

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secured with the same rusting metal as his cohorts. “You alright, ma’am?” Lev helped her to her feet and Isobel nodded blankly. “Vaughn, Vaughn.” Adrian’s voice was deceptively soft as he stooped down to look him in the eye. “You Judas.” The man’s eyes were wild with fear, “Boss, I don’t. Please. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.” “I’m not going to kill you, Vaughn.” “Y-you’re not?” “No.” Adrian finally turned to Isobel, “Hey.”

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He walked over and drew Isobel close into a hug. It was an uncharacteristic show of affection in front of his men."You okay?" Trying to stop her tears, Isobel nodded. “I-I’m fine. The girls and Jup-” “Jake took them to the safe house.” “You knew?” “I told you not to show any weakness.” When Adrian’s hand brushed over Isobel’s cheek, sticky with the blood of Alexandrovich’s men, Isobel felt at ease. “I’m going to take care of everything.” Adrian laced their fingers together, moved a large rat out of the way with one swipe of his booted foot.

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When he handed Isobel the gun, Isobel didn’t move. “What..?” The weight was strange in her hands. The last gun she had handled was during the period after her kidnapping when she was on edge and jittery; always waiting for the attack that never came…until she was over it – and then it came. “C’mon,” Adrian moved behind her, palm settling over Isobel’s stomach. “He wanted to hurt you; us. This is your chance for retribution.” The men were watching, eyes dark. Isobel could see Alexandrovich , the wound was low in his belly and Isobel knew Adrian well enough to know that it would be weeks

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before Alexandrovich was dead. That the rats would seem like salvation compared to what Adrian had in store. All she had to do was pull the trigger. “Do it.” Adrian’s voice was harder. Isobel leveled the gun and Vaughn looked her in the eyes. Fear was evident, stark in the dilated pupils, the jumbled pleas. “Show him what happens when you fuck with us.” Adrian encouraged, palm warm on Isobel’s belly as the other brought the gun down. Everything in Isobel rebelled; she was a baker, a pastry chef… Her brother had raised her to walk the fairly straight and

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narrow. But there was another part of her. The part that remembered how scared she had been, how much she feared for her child and safety. Adrian was right, Vaughn couldn’t get away with this. This was still justice; just a different kind. “I can’t.” Isobel dropped the gun down to her side and Adrian went rigid behind her. “Isobel! If-” “Not the gun, that’s too quick.” Isobel continued to study Vaughn watched his mouth fall open. “Give me the knife.” ***** Extended periods of stress can shrink brain neurons. No context, but waking up it was

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the first thing Isobel thought. She knew what people meant when they say they were losing their mind. It was a disintegration that felt literal and physical. Pieces breaking away and she couldn’t control it. But today, she could almost think. She felt a little better, and that made her feel guilty. She shouldn’t feel better about actively participating in a man’s death. It was twenty-four hours since Adrian showed up, and he was still there. Isobel was ready for him to leave, take off while Isobel slept, no explanation or warning. It was weird waking up for the second day in a row and finding Adrian drinking coffee in the kitchen. “It’s awake,” he said when Isobel walked in.

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The muffled sound of rock music was coming from the open door to the basement. Isobel yawned a jaw-popping yawn, too sleepdumb to think of a worthy reply. It was after ten, but she could have slept longer if she wasn’t so hungry. “You need to talk to the feds today.” Isobel opened the refrigerator, studied the food inside. “Okay.” She didn’t want to think too hard about it. Let Adrian handle it. “Two o’clock.” “Yeah.” “You’ll have my lawyer with you. She’ll be here in about an hour. Before then we need

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to go over your story. Willis is here already; he’s talking to his kids.” Isobel nodded. The cold air was raising goose bumps on her skin, but she didn’t move. “And she’s going to see about Willis giving you an alibi which puts you in the clear. Fucking pigs will try and keep you as long as they can, we'll need to lean on them a little.” A warm, metallic taste filled Isobel’s mouth in a flood of saliva, tightening her throat and churning in her stomach. “If you want to attend the buri—” “Shut up,” Isobel choked out. She slammed the refrigerator door, turning to leave, then

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made an abrupt sidetrack to the kitchen sink just in time to empty her stomach. Adrian didn’t say anything as Isobel ran the water and hung over the basin, waiting for the nausea to pass. ***** Louisa Lestrange was 110% professionalism, the kind of person Isobel would expect to see prosecuting criminals, not working for them. It was eleven on a hot, sunny morning, and Isobel was wearing a short blue dress, feet bare and hair still curling in warm tendrils about her face from a shower. Ms. Lestrange laid her leather attaché on the table and sat, bringing Isobel into a cloud of subtle perfume.

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“Isobel, I’m Louisa Lestrange. Adrian has asked me to represent you. Was that what you want?” Adrian followed them out to the living room, taking the couch across, watching. “I . . . just to be there when I talk to the FBI?” Unless there was something more. Something coming that Isobel was missing and Adrian wasn’t telling. Isobel glanced over, but Adrian’s face was impassive. “Yeah. I guess.” ***** Adrian rode with Isobel to Federal Plaza, but he didn’t get out. From the car behind them Lev and Willis emerged. They stood waiting.

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“Call when you’re done,” Adrian said. Isobel nodded, moved to get out, and Adrian stopped her with a grip on her upper arm. Isobel turned, and Adrian kissed her, warm and deep. “You’re fine,” Adrian whispered against Isobel’s lips. Isobel was two seconds from asking—begging—Adrian to come with her, but Adrian let go, sat back, the interaction over. Isobel shoved open the car door and stepped out. The tinted windows hid Adrian as soon as the door shut. Isobel stepped away, joined Lev, Willis and Louisa Lestrange outside. “Ready?” Louisa asked.

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Isobel swallowed, nodded. “Lets go.” There were people waiting for them in the lobby, two men and a woman. Lev was right behind Isobel, Willis on his left, Louisa on his right. As they closed the space between the two groups, it was like an old west stand off, everyone sizing everyone else up. Either side, Isobel was outclassed. She was so fucking outclassed. “Isobel Benedikt?” Guilty as charged. And, literally guilty. About to be. I’m about to commit a felony. Don’t think about it now, don’t think about it. It was suffocating inside the elevator with just five people, the small space magnifying

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every breath, every rustle of clothing, every swallow. Lev having identified himself as Isobel and downstairs.

Louisa’s

driver,

stayed

Before Louisa arrived, Adrian went over Isobel’s story with her and Willis. She had heard it before, but couldn’t remember where it melted into the truth. “That’s it?” Isobel asked. It was less than she could have actually told, if she was telling the truth. “That’s it. Big mistake people make telling lies, they go detailed. You’re not writing a novel, you’re making a counterfeit. No one’s

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going to be surprised if you’re recall was bad. We use that in our favor.” Isobel didn’t really care about the lying, just about the getting caught. “What if they make me take a lie detector test?” “They won't,” Adrian said, easy. How to lie to someone’s face. Isobel wasn’t sure if premeditated was easier or harder. The separation between the truth, so sharp and unexpected in Isobel’s head, and the untruth, reality cut up and pasted back together. She had to keep reminding herself why it was so important she lie. For Adrian. Lie for Adrian. To keep Adrian.

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“Don’t try and come across to them as honest. Don’t try to sell the story, just tell it. Just be you.” “I know,” Isobel said, distracted. ***** Adrian’s hands cradled Isobel’s head, thumbs stroking over the points of her cheekbones. Hot skin pressed to skin, damp where they touched. “Regret is a dead man,” Adrian’s words tickled against Isobel’s skin. “We don’t live like that.” Isobel's fingers stroked smooth skin over layered muscle, gripping at Adrian's hips, his spread thighs. Isobel's breath slowed,

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steadied. Rolled out of her body, room to be filled. And it was. ***** Weekends weren’t really weekends for Isobel and Adrian, they’re just another day of the month. Sometimes there was free time, mostly there wasn’t. Crime was a service job, and you had to keep the customer happy. It was the rare morning Isobel woke up with Adrian still in bed beside her, still asleep. Rare enough that he probably needed it, so Isobel left him and went for a run. It was Sunday, eight o’clock, cold fall sunlight and crisp air, and Isobel ran four miles with Lev half a step behind. She kicked off

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her Nike sneakers in the foyer, passed the kitchen – empty - and headed upstairs. Ariel wasn’t around today, but if Jupiter woke up, the housekeeper would get him. Or Adrian. Isobel heard the TV before she pushed the ajar door open. Adrian was still in bed, Jupiter snuggled up against his chest, head tucked under his chin. “He’s a boy,” Jupiter said. “Pretty sure Buttercup’s a girl,” Adrian said. His voice was gravelly with sleep. “No, he’s a boy because his eyes.” “What about his eyes?”

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Jupiter had a finger in his mouth, eyes intent on the TV. His hair was a fuzzy curly mess, catching on Adrian’s three day beard. “Buttercup,” Jupiter said. “Okay, you win," Adrian said. Then, “You gonna watch with us or just lurk like a creep?” Isobel grinned, crossed the room. “Yeah, shove over.” ***** Adrian didn’t like intentional crowds. Isobel learned that early on. They made him edgy, annoyed. He couldn’t relax when he was always on the lookout for a threat, and there was always a potential threat in a crowd. If

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Isobel wanted to take Jupiter somewhere with lots of people, especially waiting lines, she had learned not to ask Adrian. So she was surprised when Adrian volunteered his company to the state fair. Really, insisted on it. Isobel loved her kid, and the guys weren’t the worst company, but they didn’t hold a candle to Adrian. Wow, the dumb shit that asshole made her think. “We’ll have to leave early if we want to – ” “We’ll fly.” “That really necessary? We could drive like normal people.” Adrian gave her a look. Right, normal people were scum. Isobel rolled her eyes.

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For someone with ochlophobia the state fair was possibly the worst place on earth. Adrian looked indifferent to the noise and endless crowd. Bored. Isobel knew he already had an exit strategy, and it didn’t include low-casualties. Isobel had one too, it was two steps, simple. Body-shield Jupiter, get the fuck out of there. If the vehicles were blocked off, get inside a building with multiple exits, gain time to – “Mama, are we going candy?” Isobel looked down into Jupiter’s earnest baby eyes, because candy was a serious subject. “Yeah. Definitely.” Why did she even bring her kid out of the house?

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***** Jupiter was high enough that it took way longer than it should to figure out what was going on. He was still thirty seconds behind, trying to figure out who grabbed the back of his shirt, as he stumbled out the back exit, wet winter air a shock to his overheated system. “Hey,” he protested, moved to put his drink down so he could get rid of the hands on his arms, and found that he wasn’t holding it anymore. Weird. The puddles of water on the pavement look like oil spills, all shiny rainbow colors in the ripples. Jupiter’s foot landed in one and he almost fell, yanked back upright by the hands.

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Hands. Right. Fuck. “Ge’off me.” Jupiter tried to plant his feet, but the ground wasn’t totally solid. Before he could come up with a better maneuver, the street was right there, and pulled up to the curb was one of his dad’s cars. He was so fucked. So, so fucked. The back door opened from the inside, and in the interior light Jupiter saw his mother. She was kind of expressionless, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed. Whoever had Jupiter’s arms kind of hoisted him inside, sprawling because Jupiter’s limbs weren’t attached to his body, and Isobel grabbed his shoulder, to steady him.

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So, not good. Jupiter was coming up with something to say, but he knew he was high and all the shit he was thinking right now was really dumb, even if it didn’t sound dumb, he knew it was, if only by his future self . . . did that make sense? Then he realized the car was moving, and looked over at Isobel. “You gonna say something?” Just hurry up, get it over with. Isobel looked at him and shrugged. “No.” Oh, shit. Shitshitshit. They were going to talk to him together. No, no way.

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Jupiter’s skin felt too hot. Maybe he was going to puke. This was like a high gone bad. “Please don’t tell Dad.” Isobel laughed, and Jupiter’s head throbbed. “You know that isn’t going to happen, kiddo.” “Won’t do it again,” Jupiter tried. It sounded good. “I know it.” Fuck his life. The end. If you enjoyed this ebook and want me to keep writing more, please leave a review of it on the Amazon Kindle store (the page where you bought it). By doing so you'll allow me

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more time to write these books for you as they'll get more exposure. So thank you. :)

Get Another Contemporary And BWWM eBook Free! Hi there. As a special thank you for buying this ebook, for a limited time I want to send you another two completely free of charge directly to your email! You can get it by clicking the cover below or going here: Direct link: www.saucyromancebooks.com/ love-contemporary-or-bwwm-romance-books These books are so exclusive you can't even buy them. When you download them I'll also send you updates when new books like this are available.

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Now, if you enjoyed the book you just read, please leave a positive review of it on Amazon. It'll help get it out there a lot more and mean I can continue writing these books for you. So thank you. :)

More Books By Cher Etan And Friends If you enjoyed that, you'll love Accept My Baby by J A Fielding (sample and description of what it's about below). Description: A complete story, brought to you by bestselling romance author J A Fielding. Travel journalist Amanda Pearson feels she's cruising through life... Until she catches her boyfriend of 10 years in bed with another woman!

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Deciding to escape familiar surroundings, she books a work assignment abroad in Italy. There she meets Rafael Imperioli, a highly eligible billionaire who becomes quite taken with her. But even though she begins to develop feelings for him too, she soon finds out she's pregnant with her ex's child! Which leaves her wondering, will her new love interest accept her as she is? Or will news of her forthcoming child have her nursing yet another heart break?

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Find out in this emotional yet steamy overseas romance by bestselling author J A Fielding. Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you'll need your own Italian billionaire to sweep you off your feet. Want to read more? Then click here to get Accept My Baby now. * Also available: One Billionaire Cowboy, One Baby by Vanessa Brown (sample and description of what it's about below). Description:

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A complete pregnancy romance, brought to you by Steffy Shaw of BWWM Club. When vet Naomi Kaye gets a job on a local farm, she expects it to be just another 'day at the office'. What she finds instead is a ranch run by Jack, a handsome and very, very rich cowboy. Jack recently sold his business for a lot of money in order to concentrate on his passion: farming full time. The only thing missing in his life? A loyal and caring woman to share his down time with.

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Will Naomi be that caring and hard working soul he's looking for? And when she gets pregnant with Jack's child, will they be able to overcome the forces trying to split the two apart? Find out in this sexy cowboy romance by Steffy Shaw of BWWM Club. Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you'll want your own cowboy to roll in the hay with. Want to read more? Then click here to get One Billionaire Cowboy, One Baby now. * Click to get them free now:

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