Pakhan's Salvation (Pakhan Duet Book 2) Read online

  “Hi. He was… hurt.”

  Oliver nodded and gave her the bag he was holding. “Here’s some dinner for you. I thought I’d stop by tonight, since tomorrow you have a bachelorette party with the girls.” She even had a celebration of this union?

  I’d slap her ass so hard once I finally got her in my bed; she wouldn't be able to sit for a whole week without it stinging. My krasavica didn't have to be so into this marriage, even if she didn't know she wasn't Angelica.

  Rational at this moment I was not.

  “We’ll you see you later, Oliver.” Squeezing his shoulder a bit harder than necessary, I decided to leave before I succumbed to the desire to snatch her away from here.

  Reaching the front desk, I noticed Michael and Vitya in a heated argument over some personal stuff, and by the grim expression on Vitya’s face, he didn't like what Michael said. Whatever the fuck happened to our happy couple?

  They stopped once I stood in front of them, and Michael gave me a run down on the situation. “He’s still in surgery. It might take several hours. I can stay here. You guys can go and do your stuff.”

  I didn't miss how Vitya disliked the plan, but kept myself neutral in this. Their personal life was none of my business until it interfered with their work. Michael raised his brow up and down suggestively. “You have some girls’ night out to get ready for, huh?” I flipped him off as he laughed loudly. Ignoring them both, I took out my phone and walked to the entrance, deciding to finally have the conversation I had put off for so long. Even though Damian went back to Russia, while Connor brought Sapphire and Kristina with him, I couldn't let him be the one to deliver the news. I owed my twin enough already; sometimes I felt like I could never repay him for all the help he’d given me.

  On the fifth ring, Don picked up the phone, answering with a raspy voice. “Hello?”

  Clearing my throat, I replied, “Don, we need to talk.”

  Rosa

  “Thank you so much,” I said to Oliver, dumbstruck still from the earlier scene, while he shrugged with a boyish grin.

  “Just happy to help my little nurse,” he joked. “Busy night, huh?”

  Nodding, I sat down on the bed, hoping it would calm my rapidly beating heart. My fingers touched my burning lips, while for a second, I closed my eyes, remembering our passionate kiss. His tight embrace, hot body, and overwhelming feeling of belonging.

  Cheating, Angelica. It was freaking cheating! Three days before your wedding!

  Even though my mind screamed those reasons at me, I couldn't feel guilty, no matter how much I tried. Maybe because, in this kiss, I somehow found myself and didn't question anything. How could it be possible? Dominic Konstantinov was a stranger, yet it did nothing to reduce my desire or curiosity for him.

  “Angelica?” Oliver asked, while raising my chin with his index finger and thumb, gazing straight into my eyes. For a second, I noticed guilt and pity in them, but for what, I didn't know. “Are you all right?”

  Licking my lips, I nodded, although I felt anything but.

  One thing was clear.

  Dominic Konstantinov was a dangerous drug that my body craved, but I had to stay away from him. Otherwise, he threatened to bring chaos in my life, as insane as it sounded.

  Rosa

  “To hard-ons and orgasms!” Ciara shouted, while the girls around us hooted approvingly as we licked the salt, threw back tequila shots and then sucked on lemons quickly.

  The liquid burned my throat then immediately warmed me up inside as a giggle escaped my lips. “I think we should stop for a while,” I said, wiping my sticky hands on a tissue, my head dizzy from the four shots we’d done.

  “Are you kidding me? You have a bachelorette party only once! No way in freaking hell, missy!” she exclaimed, and motioned the bartender for another round while I studied the bar around us. The establishment opened here recently. The main restaurant was in New York, but the owner wanted to explore the Italian market. So he recreated the bar here, down to the small details, and based on the pictures on the web, the places were identical. The menu here had more Italian stuff, but that was as far as the differences went.

  My feet swung back and forth, as I sat on the tall chair, one leg thrown over the other as I rested my chin on my palm.

  Luxurious would be the appropriate word for it, or old-fashioned.

  Depended on how you wanted to look at it, I guessed.

  The café had two floors with a round stage right in the middle, where talented musicians and singers performed every night, recreating famous band hits with their spin on them. Currently, they played all the hits by the legendary Queen. “Bohemian Rhapsody” being one of my favorites by them. It was wonderful it became popular again; kids should really remember some good classics.

  Gold, black, and red dominated the colors. The furniture consisted of round, wooden tables with two chairs closer to the stage and several closed booths in various corners. They were hidden by golden chiffon curtains and created an aura of privacy and intimacy.

  The staff wore rather extravagant clothes, as they recreated the twenties look, with waitresses pinning their hair up with clips, while wearing flapper dresses and lacy gloves. Men, on the other hand, wore pants, leather shoes, hats, and T-shirts with vests. The air conditioning ran constantly, proving to be comfortable for the customers and staff. The lighting was subdued with only lamps provided on the tables, so the whole focus was on the stage with bright lights for the stars to shine.

  When we arrived, we were greeted by the hostess, Sonya, who wore a long red dress with an open back. For some reason, she kept giving me weird glances and frowning every time someone called out my name. As the head manager as well, she oversaw the business traveling between Italy and the US.

  Maybe Angelica was an unusual name for the States, although I seriously doubted it. Wasn't it the country that had ancestors from all over the world?

  She proposed a booth accented by curtains, claiming this was my favorite. How I would have a favorite in a place I’d never visited before was beyond me, but we just refused, as Ciara always preferred to be closer to the bar.

  “Like a good maid of honor, I have to ask you a question.” Ciara leaned forward, only inches separating us, and whispered, “Are you sure about this marriage? I can still help you run away tomorrow.”

  Licking my dry lips, I replied honestly, “Please.”

  Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to reply and then grinned, sternly waggling her index finger at me.

  “For a second there, I thought you were serious.” Then she called out to the girls, who were mostly her friends, to tell them we needed to dance and have some fun. According to Ciara, in my old life, I was more of a loner and didn't hang out with the crowd much, so she couldn't find anyone from my side to invite here. Instead, she chose the most easygoing women she knew. I suggested not doing much with the party, as really, wasn't it supposed to be all giggly and fun because the bride couldn't wait for the big day? But Ciara would have none of that and created everything she wanted. At one point, I just stopped caring, just as I did with the wedding in which Mom reigned.

  I was such a pushover, pathetic really. But then to fight you had to care, and why would I care which flowers or dress to choose for the event, when the event itself depressed me beyond measure?

  Sighing heavily, I sipped my drink and wondered when it would be an appropriate time to finally leave and get some sleep.

  Dominic

  “So, man, a party for everybody tonight huh?” Michael roared with laughter, hitting his knee with his palm while Vitya’s lips shook a little, as if he barely contained his own amusement, and Anton cast his eyes down, probably finding this whole situation hilarious as fuck.

  “Shut up, Michael.” My tone left no room for argument, and the three of them straightened, adopting serious expressions on their faces. Good. Who the hell did they think they were speaking like this to me? As much as they were my friends, I held the position of pakhan, not
them. “Once I walk through that door, you guard the place like hawks,” I said to the six enforcers by the car, and once they nodded, I continued. “Vitya and Michael, you come inside with me and make sure the place is safe. Anton, make sure Ciara is occupied.”

  He half smiled. “No problem, Pakhan.”

  Giving him a hard look, I clarified, “Occupied, not fucked.” Anton had a reputation with women—loved them, in other words. Despite the shitty backstory of being a one-woman man—what he fed to Rosa when he acted as her university friend—he was no saint. In fact, threesomes was his favorite thing to do in his spare time. Apparently, he had a thing for bondage and flogger spankings as well.

  What-the-fuck-ever. As long as women were into it and didn't get hurt, I stayed the hell out of it. I just wondered if his behavior would ever bite him in the ass someday when he’d decided to be with someone permanently.

  “Oliver?”

  “Igor is on him. They have dinner with Ercole, so I doubt he’ll show up. In any case, we would know about it.”

  Satisfied with Anton’s answer, I spun around and marched toward the gate to the café Rosa and I loved to go to back in New York. Hilarious as fuck they’d branched out here of all places.

  At reception, Sonya greeted me with a wide smile. Before I could even say anything, she pointed at the bar. “Rosa is there.”

  Fuck, she recognized her. “Did you say anything to her?”

  She stepped back, probably taken aback by my tone. “Just that I could give her your favorite booth, but she declined.”

  I opened my mouth to reply that she should have known better than giving her options, but my attention snapped to the bar, where Rosa sat on the barstool in a sexy red dress, which hugged her body perfectly, showcasing her amazing bronze skin, shapely legs, and her hair cascading down her back. She sucked through the straw of some kind of pink drink, while waving to the dance floor where Ciara and her friends apparently danced, and I noticed Anton making his way toward her, matching the moves, and her eyes lit up with interest.

  Good job, byk.

  Rosa sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world lay on her shoulders, but then stilled, blinking rapidly as our eyes clashed. Joining her on the seat next to her, I said, “Angelica.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked furiously, while glancing at her sister.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I came here for you.” In what fucking universe did anyone think I would allow my woman, my Rosa, to go to the bar and get drunk with no supervision?

  She was mine.

  Mine to love, mine to protect, and mine to soothe. My body craved her, and she needed me too, if the heat she displayed back in the hospital was anything to go by. Time to end this fucking bullshit and finally reclaim what rightfully belonged to me. Although Don and Damian begged me to be careful and wait until the grand finale, I couldn’t. Vito already knew about my plans, so everything else was just a moot point.

  Tonight, I planned to give us what we both waited so long for.

  Each other.

  Rosa

  He was here!

  My heart beat rapidly against my ribcage while my eyes drank him in. God, but the man was magnificent.

  His broad shoulders were covered in a silk shirt and he wore well-fitted jeans. With a light five o’clock shadow, he had an edge that just spoke to me, begging me to run into his arms and let him handle all the problems in my life. I wanted to feel his lips on mine again, where I didn't have to pretend to be someone I was not.

  And all those emotions scared me. Especially with him sitting so close, his thigh brushing against mine, awakening my body on a different level. “I—” My voice shook from my turmoil, and I did the only rational thing in this situation.

  I dashed to the washroom in the back of the establishment, in my haste even forgetting my purse. Quickly stepping inside, I closed the door and marched toward the mirror. Taking deep breaths, I turned on the tap and dampened paper towels, using them to wipe the sweat from my neck, hoping the coolness would calm me.

  What the hell was I doing here anyway? This whole girls’ night out wasn't for me, not to mention none of them were my close friends anyway. Just a bit dizzy from the drinks, I was in no way drunk, so maybe I could go to hospital, get an IV drip to remove all the alcohol from my body, and work the night? That way I wouldn't have to see my parents or Oliver ‘til tomorrow evening, which would be a perfect solution.

  Surely Dominic would leave or move on to someone else. As much as his company unsettled me, I knew full well it just had to do with the chase. He was the pakhan of the Bratva after all. Vito whored around all the time, changing women like gloves. Married, engaged, single. He loved them all. Why should Dominic be any different? He probably had ladies all over the world. It just happened to be this time he found me intriguing, or maybe he simply wanted something Oliver had. The idea of him and other women brought pain, like someone stabbed me with a knife right in my chest.

  What a freaking dramatic thought. This guy just showed up in my life out of the blue and desired me.

  With determination, I walked out, my heels clicking loudly on the marble floor, my gaze on the stage where Ciara chatted and danced with some red-haired guy. Stopping in my tracks, I studied him for a second, wondering where I could have seen him.

  Blurred images of university and an auditorium flashed through my mind, but it was so fleeting I had a feeling I imagined it. I couldn't dwell on it much, as strong arms grabbed me, taking me into the shadowed corner between the washroom and stage. I would have screamed if my nose didn't catch the familiar scent of Dom.

  Leaning forward, he trapped me between his chest and the wall, plastering his arms on both sides of my face while his breath fanned my cheeks. “Let me go, Dominic.” The stupid shiver that always ran through me when I spoke his name refused to go away, and it annoyed the hell out of me.

  “Do you really want me to, Angelica?" he whispered against my ear, and I barely resisted closing my eyes for a second to enjoy this sensation he awoke in me. Shaking my head to remove the fog, I studied his facial expression, and despite the desire reflected in his amber pools, his jaw was hard, as if he was angry.

  “Why do you do that?" I asked, surprising myself. He furrowed his brows, creating a deep line between them.

  “I do a lot of stuff, beautiful. What exactly do you mean?"

  “Why do you say my name this way... like... you are mocking it or something? Almost like it disgusts you," I finished, feeling like a freaking fool. First of all, who cared what the dude thought, and second of all, even if he did, it was none of my business. I had met this guy yesterday, managed to let him kiss me, and somehow gave him the impression that it was okay to assume I would be willing to sleep with him.

  Even though my body screamed “hell yeah” and was on board with the idea, I rationally understood how stupid it was.

  I’d contacted my psychologist that morning to question her about this situation, and she assured me that sometimes it happened with amnesia. When we didn’t recognize people or loved ones around us, we tended to form unexplainable bonds with strangers. She thought that my fascination with Dominic came from a deep place of trauma of the fact that I’d forgotten my love for Oliver, and somehow my emotions for him awakened the desire for Dom.

  What a freaking crock of bull! I thanked her and once again high-fived myself for stopping my session. Where did Ciara and Dad find this shrink?

  “Hey, where did you disappear to?" He gently raised my chin, so I wouldn’t be able to hide my gaze from him. "Are you all right?" It didn't escape my notice how he decided not to answer my question.

  All becoming too much for me, I snapped, “You know what, Dominic? No, I’m not all right. You show up in my life, creating chaos, don’t listen when I tell you to stay away, and then wait for me to hop in bed with you just… because. Not to mention my family is pressuring me into marrying a guy I don’t remember. Let’s not forget my sister, who seems to be in love with him.
In three days, the most important event of my life has to happen, and it scares the shit out of me.” I puffed out air, spilling all my dark worries onto him. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed him away. “Just let me be.” With that, I focused my attention on Ciara, and right in that second, she spun around, facing me.

  “Hey, girl. What’s going on?” she asked worriedly, while the guy behind her smiled at me.

  Seriously, Rosa? You could have told him we have finals coming up in a week, so we need to study together. Now he’s going to kill me.

  Aaron? Anton? Why would such names come in my mind along with these strange words? Ciara snapped me from my train of thought. “Angelica?”

  Hugging her close so she wouldn't see my face, I whispered in her ear, “I’m needed back at the hospital. I think I’ll just crash there for the night.”

  “But it’s your girls’ night out!”

  “Ciara, please understand.” She tensed in my arms, but then sighed heavily.

  “Fine, you weren’t into it much anyway, despite the few shots you’ve taken.” She gave me a soft peck and giggled. “This guy will keep me plenty occupied.” I bet he could.

  With that, I took out my phone, ordered an Uber, and passed by Sonya who looked at me surprised. What was this girl’s deal anyway?

  The car arrived pretty quickly, along with the valet guy, who wore a suit and grim expression. Huh, weren't they similar to waiters? When did he have time to change? I sat inside and was about to close the door, when Dominic rushed inside and covered my mouth with his palm while I screamed into it. Ignoring me, he directed the driver, “To my hotel, Vlad.” And the car moved smoothly yet speedily forward.

  Dominic removed his hand, placed me on his lap quickly and so skillfully, as if I weighed as little as a feather, so we could face each other. “That’s better, darling.”

  “This is kidnapping!”

  He laughed, resting his head on the leather seat. “Call the police.”