The Mafia and His Obsession, Part 2 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

Alessio

 

I wandered into my bedroom and my eyes sought out Ayla, but she was nowhere to be found. Our bed was disheveled but, nonetheless, empty. I knew she wasn’t in the nursery, because on my way to our room, I had made a stop there to watch Maila sleeping soundly, most likely dreaming of fairies.

“Ayla?” I called as I walked to the bathroom. Opening the door, I found my wife in there in the middle of undressing.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, watching her trying to disrobe. She did a little wiggle to try and get the nightgown over her rounded belly.

Ayla huffed and then agitatedly started pulling at her nightgown, trying to get it over her head now. I silently reached forward and helped her. In her state, it seemed that Ayla exhausted herself very easily.

Once the nightgown was gone, her lips twisted and then she pouted. “Trying to take a shower.”

“Now?” I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yes. Now.” She cupped her full breasts, and her black brows furled together. “I am leaking and it smells once it dries. I can’t sleep like this.”

Oh.

Ayla shrugged and then walked into the shower, keeping the glass doors open. That was a silent invitation, and I eagerly started to undress. I couldn’t say no to that. She threw a look over her shoulder and then smiled coyly. “Come and do your husbandly duties. You’re slacking.”

I growled at her words, but she only laughed. There was a teasing glint in her eyes. “Vixen,” I muttered loud enough for her to hear.

“I was an Angel a few hours ago,” she retorted, her lips quirking up to the side.

I joined her in the shower, both of us now naked. The water cascaded around us, and Ayla blinked several times, keeping the spray of water from getting into her eyes.

She lifted her hands up and cupped my cheeks. I watched in silence, waiting to see what she’d do. Maybe a kiss?

I leaned down to steal her lips, and she came to me softly, opening up for me like a blooming flower. Her lips were my solace and her kisses were my saving grace.

She threaded her fingers behind my neck and nipped at my lower lip. My cock jolted forward, but this wasn’t about fucking and owning each other. The way Ayla was kissing me, the way my lips moved over her, it was a tender caress. This was simply a moment to remind both of us that we were here, safely in each other’s arms, and what we shared was no simple love.

Ayla pulled away first, and she licked her plump lips, tasting me and owning my soul all at the same time. “You taste and smell like cigar. Were you smoking again?”

I shrugged in response, knowing there was no point in lying. I had been caught. I didn’t smoke a lot, not like Viktor. But I’d take a hit every once in a while, especially when the moment demanded it. Like tonight. It was all about the image. The more intimidating you looked, your victims would shake harder in fear.

But even the few times I would smoke, Ayla didn’t like it.

Her hands found my cheeks again, and her thumb swiped at the length of my jaw. “You had blood here,” she murmured.

Fuck.

She met my gaze without flinching, her thumb still unconsciously rubbing my jaw. I loved it when she couldn’t seem to stop touching me. Whenever I was in her vicinity, she was either reaching for my hand, kissing my lips, or cuddling closer into my arms.

She was drawn to me, just like I was to her. She was the flame, and I was the moth, chasing after the light and wanting to conquer it. My Angel had a way of making my heart feel like it would beat right out of my chest.

“Do I want to know what you did tonight?” she questioned.

“No.”

She knew the answer; she knew the real monster that lived under skin of Alessio Ivanshov. And Ayla, my beautiful wife, she looked right into the eyes of the monster and smiled.

I remembered the Ayla of a few years ago, the one I pulled from under my bed. Dirty and scared. She had thought her life would end that night, with my gun pointed at her head.

But things happened.

She happened.

She was no longer that Ayla now. Broken and scared of her own shadows. She was now a Queen, and she wore the crown beautifully, with magnificent strength.

“Who was it?” My stubborn Angel. I gripped her chin with my thumb and finger, tilting her head up, and then I slammed my mouth down to hers.

“Abram,” I confessed between the kiss.

I felt Ayla inhale, her chest holding her breath, and then she released it before she kissed me back, with just as much passion. She latched onto my hair and dug her fingers into my scalp, anchoring me to her as our kisses turned desperate and breathless.

“Are you scared?” Of me…of what I represent…of what I do.

She whimpered into my lips and pulled away long enough to whisper the words, “Do I look scared?”

“Too late to back out now. You wear my ring. You wear my name.”

“I’m not leaving, Alessio,” she said, her words ringing with honesty. “Never leaving you.” My Angel could read me like an open book. She saw my silent fears and she kissed them all away. My chest expanded, and then I released a shuddering breath.

“What are you doing to me, baby?” she whispered. Ayla clutched my shoulders tightly. “You have turned me into someone else…”

I understood her words, her silent confusion.

I was the villain. The bad guy. Not the good type of King. I had done many terrible things that even hell would shy away from my sins.

And Ayla was my wife. She didn’t cower. My sweet angel still held a sweetness. The depth of her still held innocence and a shyness that made her all kinds of endearing. There was only a tiny difference. She now danced with evil. What did that make her?

A fearless Queen.

My hands slid down to her ass. “You are bad bad bad.”

I squeezed the firm globes of her ass. Ayla gasped and then grinned. “I guess I am bad for you.”

“Only for me,” I said, my voice husky and territorial.

Ayla smacked my chest teasingly. “Yes. Now, are we going to shower or not?”

I lathered up Ayla’s body silently, paying careful attention to her juicy tits. They were sensitive and tender now, but I also knew they were her greatest pleasure. I gently tweaked her nipples with my fingers, and she gasped, her back arching slightly.

“Alessio…” My name fell past her lips like a silent prayer. Beautiful.

Realizing that it was too late to be teasing her now and Ayla was probably tired, I abandoned my treasures and moved to her stomach, lathering up the round surface with soap.

Our baby kicked and I fought back a laugh. “Look who is awake,” I announced, tickling the side where the little one just kicked.

Once Ayla was cleaned and she was satisfied enough her tits didn’t smell like vomit and rotten eggs—her words…but I agreed. Breastmilk smelled like shit—I made quick work to clean myself too. After I was done, we stepped out of the shower, and I wrapped a white towel around her before I pulled on one of my black boxers.

Ayla and I rarely slept naked now. Not when we had a toddler who liked to waltz into our bedroom any time she wanted. She owned us, my sweet princess.

Ayla made her way back into the room and sat down on the bed. She kept the towel over her body, hiding most of her nakedness from my wandering eyes, but leaving enough bare skin to tease me.

“I heard you.”

Her words pulled my attention back to her face. It felt like the air in the room had suddenly lost its calm vibe. From the look on Ayla’s face, I could tell this was definitely going to be important. Confused, my head cocked to the side. “What?”

“I heard you talking to Viktor,” she said, all serious.

“Ayla.” I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “Were you spying behind the doors again? How many times have I told you not to do that?”

She shrugged and then leveled me with a look. “It’s my house,” she explained, as if that answered everything.

“How could you tell him that?”

Oh shit. That was what this was about.

She teased me with her naked body, made me let my guard down in the shower, smiled sweetly, kissed me passionately, all while my little wife was waiting for the right moment to investigate. Sneaky.

I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to glower. It didn’t work. Ayla was completely unfazed. Her eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“What if I tell you this was none of your business?”

“What if I tell you that you can’t sleep in this bed because I’m mad?”

Oh fuck no.

A growl rumbled through my chest. “Careful there, Angel,” I warned.

“Or what?”

“You’re dancing with danger.”

Her eyes darkened a shade. “When you came back from Russia, you said you had a feeling that something was going on between Viktor and Valentin’s wife. You didn’t seem shocked. In fact, you sounded so sure of it. I found it weird, but I assumed that you had no problem with their relationship.”

Little did she know…

Ayla slapped the mattress in frustration before standing up and stalking forward. She didn’t look intimidating. Not even one bit. In fact, she was cute as fuck.

She stopped an inch from me, and her lips twisted angrily. Her glares were sharp as a knife, and sometimes, I really did fear for my dick.

“How could you be so heartless?” she snapped loudly. “You know how Viktor feels. He didn’t confess, but I could tell…he cares deeply for Valerie. It’s not just a simple affair, and we both know that. I think…I think he loves her.”

“I know,” I simply stated.

Oh, she was mad before…but now she was livid. My cock jolted, liking the idea of Ayla angry. That meant I could fuck the anger out of her. Sweet and slow. Hard and fast.

“You know?” she mocked. “If you know, then how could you ask Viktor to make a choice? Not once have I ever questioned your decisions, Alessio. But this time, you are wrong,” she said, stabbing a finger into my chest. “I don’t approve.”

I gripped her waist and held her in place. “Are you questioning me, Angel? When it comes to anything that has to do with my world, especially if it is a threat, I will do whatever I want. This is my world. And none of your concern.”

“You can’t ask him to choose between his family and the woman he loves. If you were in his place—”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish that sentence. “Enough.”

Ayla was a little firecracker when she wanted to be. “You are wrong this time.”

She was questioning my authority. Anyone else would get their neck snapped and their intestines ripped from their stomach and then shoved back into their asshole.

“Ayla,” I growled in warning. My hands tightened on her hips, bringing her closer. I was part pissed off and part aroused. Pissed off because my Angel didn’t trust me. Aroused because she was fucking sexy as sin when she was mad. I wanted to spread her out on the bed and bury my face between her creamy thighs.

Her palms came up to my bare chest, and she held me back in place, leveling me with a look that bordered between warm and cold. I knew she didn’t like my tone. When she spoke, her words were sharp and held no place for an argument.

“Out there, you are the Pakhan, a fearful King. People bow to you. They bend to your will. But when you are with me, you are simply my husband, my king. I don’t bow to you.”

How could I forget? My wife had been reborn from the ashes. She cowered no more. Not to anyone. She was fire, and she burned brighter than the sun.

She was right. Ayla Ivanshov didn’t bow to me. In fact…

“No, Angel. I bow to you.”

And I fell to my knees in front of her.

I bowed to no one except my Queen. If I had to be on my knees for her, for the rest of my life, I would fucking do it.

Ayla opened her mouth to say something else, but she closed it again, looking quite speechless. She huffed again, but I could tell her anger was slowly dissolving. She stared at me for a few silent seconds.

She sighed, an exasperated look on her face, but the softness was back in her eyes. “What are you doing, Alessio?” she said in a quiet voice.

I touched her ankle, carefully pressing into the tender flesh. “Looking at your feet. They are terribly swollen. Get on the bed. I’ll give you a massage.”

“Are you serious right now? We’re talking…”

“I know. Get on the bed, Ayla. I want your feet up and resting, and then we can continue this discussion.”

She threw her arms up in the air, but nonetheless, she got in bed and sat against the headboard. She didn’t argue with me, and that was how I knew her feet must have been aching pretty bad. Sitting opposite her, I dragged her feet into my lap.

In the recent weeks, I had developed a skill at massaging my wife’s swollen feet. They always seemed bloated, and I knew it caused Ayla pain. She wouldn’t vocalize it, but then again, I knew my Ayla.

Pressing my thumb into the sole of her foot, just behind her toes, I watched as Ayla closed her eyes and moaned in relief. At this point of her pregnancy, I wasn’t sure what she enjoyed more…the careful attention I paid to her swollen feet or the times I spent worshipping her pussy.

I flexed her delicate toes before putting more pressure and massaging up toward the inner side of her ankles. She groaned once again before opening her eyes.

Ayla narrowed her gaze at me. “You’re distracting me from the topic. If you think this will give you brownie points, then you are sadly mistaken. I’m still angry.”

“I guess I really am slacking then.” I threw her my best panty-melting smile, but she was not amused.

Great. Knowing that I couldn’t push this conversation back any more, I let out a sigh, preparing myself to reveal the truth.

The truth only I knew.

You see, I played a game of my own.

A ploy that not even Viktor knew.

In fact, Viktor was the pawn in this game of mine.

“From this conversation, I realize that you don’t trust me enough, Angel.”

Ayla tried to pull her feet from my lap, but I held on tight, keeping her where she was. I continued to rub the soles of her feet, her insteps, and the side of her ankles. “Don’t turn this on me. It’s not that I don’t trust you—”

I cut her off. “If you really trusted me, you wouldn’t question me. I have my reasons, Ayla.”

She made a frustrated sound at the back of her throat and pulled her legs hard until I had no choice but to let go. I stayed seated on the edge of the mattress and watched as Ayla went to her knees and slid closer to my side. She touched my arm, smoothing her palm over my biceps and then down until her fingers were entwined in mine.

“Then make me understand, Alessio. Why?” She asked a simple question. She scanned me up and down. Ayla looked beautifully confused. She worked her lips between her teeth, looking slightly nervous.

I squeezed her hand tighter and then let out my deepest secret.

“I sent Viktor to Russia on purpose.”

Ayla nodded, her eyebrows furled together as she tried to understand the meaning of my words. “I know that. He was sent there undercover.”

I huffed back a laugh that bubbled through my chest. Oh, my sweet Angel.

Yes. That was partially the truth. But…

“Yes. But there was another reason. I’d been doing my research before I sent him to Valentin.”

A silence hung between us. Ayla blinked several times, and her lips twisted in frustration. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I did a lot of research, had people undercover at Valentin’s estate. I found out about his wife and how badly he mistreated her.”

Ayla’s head jerked up, and her expression was a mask of shock. “You knew? All this time?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Way before Viktor even went there and found out on his own.”

“But—” She shook her head. I could see the wheels turning, her thoughts all jumbled up now.

“I sent Viktor there…because I realized that Valerie needed saving.”

Ayla’s mouth opened, her lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyebrows curled up, and her eyes narrowed on me in silence.

I could have sent anyone to spy on Valentin. It could have been Nikolay or Phoenix. I trusted these men with my lives. They were loyal to the core, no less than Viktor.

Yes, granted that Viktor was Valentin’s nephew that this was an easier ruse to play, have him act loyal to our enemy. But then again, this game could have been played in many different ways.

But I didn’t send the others. Phoenix was head over heels in love with Maddie. He wouldn’t have spared another glance to Valerie.

And Nikolay…well, he was just…Nikolay. He had his own issues to deal with. Valerie would have held no importance to him.

But Viktor…that asshole was a whole other story.

As I explained my plan to Ayla, she seemed too stunned to speak. My wife was impressed, and my dick was a happy fellow. We both knew we were going to get some action later. I smiled and fought the urge to puff my chest out.

There was only one King. Only one true Game Master.

And he was me.

Ayla tugged at my hands, wanting me to continue. “Viktor is the type of man who likes to conquer. He sees a battle, he picks a side, and he fights the war to win. He doesn’t play to lose. But he also likes to be the knight in shining armor. Once he sees a damsel in distress, his mind is off playing savior. I knew once he saw Valerie, he would want to both conquer her as his, and at the same time he would want to save her from this hellhole.”

Because she would remind him of you, Angel, I added silently.

“Men like us, we are programmed this way. We are territorial, Angel. Once Viktor sees Valerie as his woman, he would do anything to protect her. We like to shed blood. We live for the adrenaline. But what we love more than shedding the blood of our enemies is seeing the smiles of our women.”

“You wouldn’t have said that three years ago,” Ayla said, interrupting me.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t. Because back then I thought this was a weakness. But you changed that, Ayla. You changed me,” I admitted. Bringing our hands up, I kissed the back of hers. My lips lingered there, and I closed my eyes.

You also changed Viktor. Turned him from an unfeeling bastard to…

I gripped Ayla’s hand tighter at the thought. Viktor thought he could fool me, thought he could hide his feelings. But in this estate, my eyes were everywhere. I saw everything. I heard everything. Even the silent thoughts. And I knew my brother. Better than anyone else.

You see, Viktor fell in love with my wife.

And he thought he could fucking hide it.

But I saw it. In his eyes, the way he looked at her as if she were the sun and the stars.

I watched it for months. Then I realized that Viktor Ivanshov was a confused man.

He thought he loved my Ayla.

In reality, he didn’t.

He loved the idea of us. The idea of our love.

Before Ayla, our life was only black and white, dark and bloody. Then my Angel happened. Love. A relationship. Marriage. Wife and kids. Fucking happily ever after.

I got that, but Viktor was left alone.

He was grasping thin air, his heart alone and wounded, and secretly, he hoped for the same thing.

A love like ours, like Ayla’s and mine.

He confused that feeling as love for Ayla.

Viktor cared deeply for her. Very much so. That was true. He loved her. But he was not in love with her. The difference was huge. I needed him to look at someone else, have his stupid heart beat a little uneven and his stomach in knots for another woman, for him to realize that.

Viktor needed a real purpose and the silent girl locked in her room? Well, she needed someone to hear her words. Who else would be a better match than Viktor Ivanshov?

They were two lonely stars across the universe, waiting to be aligned. I saw it. I planned a game. And I moved the chess pieces, my pawns exactly where I needed them, and then I sat back and watched it all play out.

“I sent him there because he was Valentin’s nephew, and it would be much easier to have the bastard fall in our trap. He wouldn’t question Viktor’s loyalty. But I also sent him there because I knew Valerie needed him.”

I was also an asshole. I’d love to see the expression on Valentin’s face when he found out Viktor was fucking his wife. There was no better way to bring down a man. Check-fucking-mate.

Ayla slid closer to me, and my lips quirked up, knowing exactly what she wanted. I pulled her on my lap, and with her knees on either side, she straddled me. Her pregnant belly was huge between us. This position was slightly uncomfortable, but we made it work. I had to hold her tight to me to make sure she wouldn’t fall backward.

“So you basically set them up?” She probed with a raised eyebrow.

I shrugged at her question. “Is that what you call it?”

Ayla slapped my chest gently. Her other hand came up to my neck, and she slid her palm behind my head. Her fingers gripped my corded muscles, and she massaged the flesh there. I fucking loved it when she did that. I almost groaned in appreciation but broke off when Ayla leaned forward and nipped at my lips sharply.

“Continue.” Demanding little minx, she was.

“What else do you want to know?”

“If you wanted them together, then why did you ask Viktor to choose between his family and Valerie?” she said, her gaze curious and focused on me.

I watched as she licked her lips and fuck, I wanted to kiss her again. Ayla narrowed her eyes at me, as if she could read my mind. I shrugged, not guilty one bit.

“I know him, Ayla. I have known him since we were kids. And I knew Viktor would be struggling. Between his loyalty to us and his newfound loyalty to Valerie. He is a man who is devoted to his work and family. He can’t easily be distracted from his duties. Once he is in the game, he plays with full intent to annihilate anyone in his path. But now Valerie has his attention, and he is a confused man. His loyalty to us or choosing to save his woman,” I explained.

“But you…” Ayla hesitated, scanning my face and trying to understand my move, my plans, and my next goal. She squinted her eyes at me and then let out a sigh. “You just made this harder for him by putting him on the spot and forcing him to make a choice.”

“No, Angel. I made it easier for him. Now that I have pushed him and have placed this thought in his mind, he will be thinking of it non-stop. He is angry right now. Angry at me. Angry at Valentin. Furious at everything. There is a storm boiling inside of him,” I confessed, having seen the inside of Viktor’s soul. He was an open book for me to read. “Once the storm unleashes, there will be chaos.”

“What if he doesn’t choose us?” Ayla whispered quietly. “Valerie deserves to come first, and Viktor…this can’t be easy for him. What do you think his choice would be?”

I smirked.

Oh, baby.

“And that, we will need to wait and find out.”

I already knew his choice. Viktor was so obvious. But like everyone else, I had to sit back, wait, and watch the chaos unfold.

Viktor had never failed me.

He wouldn’t fail me this time either. He’d make me proud, that I knew for sure. I just wanted him happy…like I was. Happily ever after and all, like those stories in Maila’s fairy-tale books.

I knew he would succeed in bringing down Solonik. Never once had I questioned his loyalty or his ability. But I also wanted him to find love. I needed to make sure he’d get both ends of the rope.

His Valerie.

And our revenge.

Ayla threw her head back and laugh, all worry now gone. “I can’t believe this…”

“You should have trusted me, Angel.”

My wife sobered, and a hint of guilt appeared in her eyes. She brought her head closer to mine, and her lips feathered next to mine. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

My hands tightened around her hips, and I ground into her, pressing hard between her legs. I made my intent clear. Ayla gasped and her lips slid over mine for a wet kiss. “Don’t ever question me,” I growled into her lips.

Ayla breathed into our kiss and then pulled back long enough for me to see fire burning in her eyes. “I am your wife. I will question you when I think you’re wrong. Especially when it comes to our family. That is not up for discussion, baby,” she said slowly, wanting each word to sink in.

Fuck. I wouldn’t want her any other way. I loved it, this feisty side of her. She had broken through her cocoon and she was blooming. Her wings were no longer folded, and Ayla wasn’t hiding anymore.

She was flying free. Just so fucking beautiful.

Ayla snagged another kiss before she took her lips from mine. I groaned in disappointment. But then she slowly and clumsily dropped to her knees in front of me. I spread my thighs out to accommodate her, and I saw the devilish glint in her eyes and the teasing smirk on her lips.

My kitten was now out to play.

Ayla grabbed my hardened length through my boxers, and I jerked in her palms as she rubbed me leisurely. “I think you deserve a reward. For playing matchmaker.”

Fuck.

“Yesss,” I hissed as I pushed up from the mattress a little to give Ayla better access to pull down my boxers.

She licked her lips, and my hips flexed eagerly. Ayla brought her head down, and her tongue peeked out before sliding up the length of my cock.

My chest rumbled with a growl, and I gripped the back of her head as she took me in her warm mouth, slowly, inch by inch.

She closed her lips around my length, and the sucking motion almost drove me to insanity. Pleasure zinged through my veins, causing the muscles of my thighs and lower stomach to tighten.

I fisted her hair and she moaned in approval, feeling the vibration down my cock and shooting up to my balls. My muscles tightened and my knuckles dug into her scalp. She looked up at me with hooded eyes. My wife liked it rough and hard, as much as she loved sweet and slow love making.

I kept my eyes on Ayla, watching her work my cock when her words registered to my mind.

My lips quirked up, and I honestly tried to fight the smirk.

But it was impossible. Could you believe it?

Alessio Ivanshov had played matchmaker. Fucking fairy-godmother, right there. With a magic wand and all. Although right now, my wife was sucking my wand like she was starving for my taste.

Life was fucking good. Definitely.