Cruel Enforcer by Maggie Cole

16

Sergey

My brain is tellingme not to let Kora come over. Our situation is clear. She's a successful attorney who worked hard to get where she's at and escape the bad in her life. I don't need to put her in any possible harmful situation.

What was I thinking?

Wanting Kora as mine and thinking we could have a life together was foolish. It's not possible to change who I am. My brothers and I are in the middle of a war between two powerful mafia families. Boris is marrying into the O'Malleys, a prominent Irish crime family. His child will be an Ivanov/O'Malley. Our bloodlines will cross as well as our alliance. Only so much time can pass before the Rossis or Petrovs figure out we set them up. If it happens before they do enough damage to each other, everyone we love will be at risk.

Kora doesn't need to be close to any of this.

She knows I'm a murderer.

She already knows too much. If I get any closer to her, I'm going to tell her things I shouldn't—details too risky for her to be privy to. It could destroy her career and put her in a dangerous situation.

I thought she was the one.

The truth slaps me in the face. No matter how much I obsessed over Kora, I didn't admit it. Everything about her is what I want. She's smart, beyond beautiful, and strong.

She even likes basketball.I've never dated any woman who wanted to go with me. I usually go with Boris, since he bets on all types of sports.

Fuck. I wish I could have taken her to the game.

How could I ever take care of her? She deserves a man who doesn't have any of the demons that haunt me.

Part of me wants to beg her to forget about our conversation earlier today, but I know it's impossible.

Sign the paperwork and get her out of here as soon as possible.

I pace my penthouse, staring out into the early evening sky, watching the waves crash against the shore. The longer I stare, the more frustrated I get. I try to figure out how we can be together and what it could look like, but all I see is an ending where Kora gets hurt.

I'm a killer. I saw the awareness in her eyes. Shock, fear, and disappointment swirled in her hazel orbs. There is no escaping it. I'm a bad man, and she's a good woman. The two don't mix.

My buzzer knocks me out of my anxious thoughts, and I hit the button. "Hello."

"Mr. Ivanov, Kora Kilborn is here."

"Give her the code for the elevator." Most guests get escorted up so they don't know how to enter my home. I don't think twice about Kora knowing the four digits.

I take several deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves.

Sign and get her out of here. It's for the best.

I go to the elevator and wait. The lift dings, and the doors open. My heart races.

Why does she have to look so amazing every time I see her?

She steps out, and her floral scent drifts to my nostrils. I internally groan.

Her voice is sweet, filled with confidence and a hint of nervousness. A tiny smile appears. "Hi."

I reach to kiss her but freeze. "Hi."

An awkward silence fills the air.

Her cheeks flush pink, torturing me further.

"Sorry. Come in." I motion for her to go first. It's a mistake. Her dress hugs her round ass in perfection. It lifts slightly as she walks, revealing the top of her thigh-highs and a clasp.

She's wearing a garter belt.

My mouth goes dry, and blood pounds hard between my ears.

She spins. "Wow! Your view is amazing!"

Yeah, it's even better since you walked in.

"Thanks."

"Have you lived here long?"

"A little over a year. It took some time to do the remodel."

"You gutted it?"

"Yes."

She studies each side of the penthouse then turns toward me, smiling bigger. "It's great, Sergey. Really stunning."

I don't respond to her. Being in the same room and trying not to touch her is torture. My eyes seem to have a life of their own. I can't control the way they drift over her body, taking in every curve. "You look beautiful."

Why did I say that?

She steps toward me, stopping less than an arm’s length away. She lifts her head, but I can't help noticing how her breasts rise and fall faster. Her fingers graze the tattoo on my biceps.

Zings race down my spine.

"Your tattoos are really intricate. They have meaning."

I gaze at the ink on my arm of a sharp-pointed knife. A serpent sheds its skin and wraps its body around it.

"A snake shedding its skin represents transformation, immortality, and healing. It's the form of rebirth."

The twitch I hate so much begins. I clench my jaw, trying to stop it, but like usual, it doesn't do anything to turn it off.

Her nails trace the knife.

Unable to tear myself away, I focus on her expression, looking for any sign of what she thinks. I'm unprepared for what she says next.

A line between her brows forms. She slowly inhales. Her hazel eyes pin mine. "What you do with your knife gives you life. In others' deaths, you were reborn." It's a statement, not a question.

A chill runs down my spine. I should have known she would put two and two together. No one ever has. Many have asked, but I've never told them the truth. My answer is always the same. I tell them it's a design my tattoo artist drew, and I thought it looked cool.

It's a lie. He didn't design it. I did. I assumed no one but my brothers or I would ever understand.

She traces the infinity symbols which make up the scales of the snake. Her expression turns to sympathy. "You want to heal with each new death but can't."

Kora's ability to decipher the true meaning only makes my craving for her multiply. The need I've been trying to extinguish all day since I left her at Selena's slices my heart.

"Now you know how fucked up I am. Did you bring the papers for me to sign?" I mumble, in a trance and unable to pull my eyes from hers.

"Yes. I'm-I'm sorry about insinuating you needed your brothers’ permission today."

"Can we skip the apologies? Otherwise, we're going to be here all night while I tell you again how much I regret not thinking before I left."

She raises her eyebrows. "What should you have thought before you left?" She bites her plump, pink lip.

Sign the form and be done. This is only extending the inevitable.

I move my hand toward her cheek then catch myself and pull it back.

Do not touch her.

"I should have known I would be gone for days. Thinking about you sitting around, waiting for me, believing I stood you up..." I let out a long breath. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

She nods and palms my chest, sliding her hands up so one cups my neck. The other hand moves to my face, and she presses her thumb where my jaw spasms.

"I should sign your form," I attempt again.

"Did you sleep when you were gone?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"You said you didn't know what day it was."

My stomach twists. Discussing anything with her is a slippery slope. Something about Kora makes me want to tell her every bad thing I've ever done, as if she could somehow wrap her goodness around me and make it all better.

She would hate me forever.

"You know what I've done and what I am capable of continuing to do. Let me sign the papers and then it's best if you leave." My stomach flips as I say it.

Her nails lightly scrape my neck. She steps so close, I feel her heartbeat. It's racing like mine. "What if I don't want to leave?"

The presence of her body touching mine is too much. I slide my hand to the back of her head and fist her hair. "Don't tempt me, Kora."

She doesn't flinch and stares at my lips. "You don't want me to be your lapa anymore?"

I lean closer to her hot mouth. Our breaths merge. It takes all the strength I have, but I try to warn her and be the man she deserves, instead of the selfish one who's yelling at me to make her mine. "I think we were clear about what we wanted. You require disclosure about who I am, and I won't give it to you. The things you already know only scrape the surface of what I do. If you were privy to the depths of what I'm capable of, you would run. It's not a world I want you in, and you should steer far away from me, Kora."

"Should and reality are two different things most of the time," she murmurs then slides her hand through my hair, tugging me so close, our lips almost touch.

"I'm trying to do the right thing for you," I admit and palm my hand on her ass.

She closes her eyes briefly and shudders. Her voice is raspy when she says, "Are you tired?"

Is she ignoring what I'm telling her?

"No. I have severe insomnia." I circle my thumb on her ass. "Hardly anything destresses me enough so I can sleep."

She drags her hand along my jaw, down my torso, and strokes my cock. "What do you usually do to relieve your stress?"

My dick pulses. She's a vixen. I try one more time. "I think I've been a gentleman and told you I can't give you what you need, Kora."

"What do you need?"

Is she playing with me?

"Kora, this isn't—"

"What gets rid of your insomnia, Sergey? I want to know."

I bunch her dress up until my hand is on her naked ass.

She makes a tiny gasp.

I knew she had on a thong. I bet her ass looks perfect in it.

"Sometimes lots of weed."

"Okay. What else?" she asks in a breathy voice.

I lick my lips, and my jaw twitches faster. "Fucking. Lots of fucking where I'm in control, all night and into the next day."

Flames dance in her eyes. "I can clear my schedule tomorrow."

I groan inside. What is she saying? "I won't allow you to know him."

She seems to understand I'm talking about the devil inside me. Her hands hold my cheeks. "Then I'll have to be okay with only knowing who you are with me."

A low, heavy sigh comes out of me. "Don't say things you'll regret, Kora. I don't want to be toyed with."

"Okay. I don't want to play games." She releases me and attempts to step back, but I still have her in my grasp. I assume she's come to her senses, and my heart sinks. No matter how many times I attempted to get her to make this decision, I still want her to throw caution to the wind and be mine.

I remove my hands from her. Her hazel eyes pierce mine as she backs away. She slowly pulls her dress over her head and tosses it on my couch.

Blood boils and surges with lust so potent, I ball my fists next to my thighs to steady myself. The devil may wear red, but she's wearing pink. My erection gets so hard, it aches against the fabric of my pants.

For several moments, I check every inch of her out. I don't miss the way her nipples are already hard and poking against the thin mesh. Or the way her panties split into two thin lines, begging me to dine on her. If it were only about her hot little body in her lingerie, I could handle it.

It's her eyes causing the most chaos in my veins. There's a deep need I haven't seen before swirled within her confident stature.

"I said I could clear my schedule tomorrow. Do you want me to?" she asks and arches an eyebrow.

It's a stupid question from the smartest woman I know. I couldn't resist her offer if my life depended on it. My mind has already broken through the last barrier of reason and fallen back into the obsession zone.

I step forward quickly, tug her hair, and she gasps in surprise. The moment my lips meet hers, our tongues collide in a desperate desire for the other. I deepen it until she's gripping my shirt and whimpering.

I pull out of the kiss. "The devil doesn't come and go, my lapa. You're about to make a deal with him, and this is your last out. If you stay, we aren't going to keep discussing this and going in circles. Not tonight, or tomorrow, or anytime in the future. You're accepting what you told me earlier today you can't. Do you understand me?"

She nods.

"I need to hear a response from you."

"Yes."

Relief washes through me. I sniff hard then command, "Kneel."