Page 23 of Mistaken
This time, Yuri nearly choked on the mouthful of vodka he was trying to swallow. “You don’t think I’ve seen your ex-girlfriends hobbling around after one of your spankings?” He smiled at me innocently, the little bastard. “When will you learn, brother, that violence is never the answer?”
“You’re angling to handle that next shipment by the shit docks.”
It was my favorite way to humble an arrogant lieutenant or irresponsible soldier. Some of our most sensitive cargo came in next to the dock that handled all the offloaded sewage from the biggest ships and cruise liners. You could not remove the smell from your pores, even if you burned your clothes and showered in vinegar.
Yuri mockingly held up one hand and turned to speak with Mother. My gaze moved to Ella, who winced slightly as she turned to include Mariya in the conversation.
I finished my drink. She needed a more effective way to cope, I couldn’t spank her every time she started pulling away, especially since it was an activity that could be far more satisfying in other circumstances. What I needed was another Bratva wife from an arranged marriage. A happy one.
Ella…
“Okay, you better start talking.” Tania was not screwing around.
I groaned, taking off my sky-high heels and sitting on my nice, cushioned window seat, angling on my right hip to keep my weight off my painfully sore butt. I’d spitefully refused to use the tube of cream that Maksim left on my bedside table. Knowing him, it was probably laced with paprika or stinging nettles or something.
“Sorry, I just got back from dinner with his family.”
“Seriously? With his mom staring at you the whole time? I swear that woman is an emissary of Satan.”
“The girls are nice, though. I think his mom has to be terrifying as the Ominous Bratva Matriarch.”
“You’re mentally putting her title in capital letters, aren't you?”
“Stop it,” I laughed, and it felt good. I hadn’t laughed for a long time.
Tania’s laughter died off. “Tell me. Everything.”
“Way to kill my happy buzz,” I sighed. “I’m guessing you’ve already done some research because I know you. So, we won’t discuss specifics.”
“Yeah, you just got your phone back, right?” Tania snorted inelegantly, “I don’t know anyone with worse luck than you. So, here’s what I pulled up on Wikipedia:
Maksim Aleksander Morozov is the Russian-American CEO of numerous shipping and export companies, along with ties into banking, investment firms, real estate, nightclubs, and more. He took the helm of running the Morozov empire after the death of his father, Yevgeniy Maksim Morozov, in a hunting accident five years ago. His net worth is estimated to be over four billion dollars.
Morozov is well-known in the social scene in Manhattan and has dated several high-profile models and socialites. He is notoriously private and rarely allows interviews. He’s a generous donor to several charities and sits on the board of directors for Safe Passage, a global non-profit that battles human trafficking.
“Okay, that’s what I know,” Tania says, “so tell me what the hell happened and why you’re getting married to this dude that every publication refuses to call a gangster even though everyone knows it?”
“Yeah…” I give the safest version I can, in case that weaselly Russian put some kind of bug in my phone. “...and that’s, apparently, why I’m getting married in three days.”
“What do you get at Christmastime for the girl that has everything,” she says in a TV-ish announcer voice, “how about a forced wedding to a man of dubious origins?” She draws out the word ‘dubious’ with her spiteful brand of glee. “Oh, god,” she groans, “are you getting one of those godawful Christmas-themed weddings?”
“I don’t think so…” my stomach sinks, knowing I paid absolutely no attention to any of the details Karida has been badgering me with every time we’re within fifty feet of each other. “But now that I think of how she threw me under the bus with those hideous dresses… It’s likeGone With the Windthrew up on every porn film ever made and they had a bastard fashion child.”
“You should definitely buy your own lingerie for the wedding night,” Tania says wisely, “she’s probably going to try to wedge you into a full-body leatherette bodysuit with chains under the wedding dress. Of course, Maksim’s seen you naked, so why bother? Just get the dress off and have at it. He’s blessed in that area, isn’t he? I’ll bet he’s huge. Maksim’s totally got that BDE going on.”
“Maybe you should be marrying him,” I snarl, “at least you’re seeing an upside here. And I wouldn’t know. About his junk.”
“You haven’t had sex with him yet?” Tania exploded, “You’re kidding!”
“No,” I’m thinking about how odd that is. “His mom’s here now, and his little sisters, so maybe that’s kind of creepy to him. But at the lodge, you would’ve thought he would … I don’t know, seal the deal on this insane marriage thing.”
“Just as well,” she’s apparently attempting to be comforting, “it’s not like you have much experience, Miss Vanilla, and Maksim’s probably like someworld-renowned anal master.”
“Thanks, bestie,” my tone might have been a little chilly.
“Sorry.” She wasn’t. “But you know… it’s not like your ex could have ever found your G-spot, even if you gave him a map and a flashlight. You know that Maksim can probably go for-”
“I’m hanging up, Tania.”
