Heart of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance (Monster Trilogy Book 3)
Heart of My Monster: Chapter 21

Something is wrong.

I know it, feel it, and can smell it in the fucking air.

Things haven’t been the same since we returned from the cabin three weeks ago.

Sasha has been subtly keeping her distance. It’s not as blatant as when she came back and chose to spend her time with anyone but me. This time, it’s more in the little details.

Like how she stopped the morning training, no longer waits up for me, doesn’t have drinks with me, and she prefers to go visit her brother in Viktor’s company instead of mine.

I can’t really do anything about the last one since I’m overwhelmed by all the shit in the Bratva, namely, keeping Damien’s killing spree in check.

While the above changes are noticeable, they could be viewed as fleeting compared to everything else.

For one, she’s not talking about leaving me in a few weeks anymore.

She’s not using every chance she gets to remind me that she’s my wife only temporarily.

And, most importantly, she holds the same level of fucked-up desire for me as I do for her. I’ve been trying to wake her up with my mouth on her cunt, but lately, she’s been reversing the roles, so I’m the one who wakes up in heaven with her lips around my cock.

The biggest red flag, though, is that she’s been spending more time with the ex-robot Kristina, much to my and my brother’s dismay.

I snatch a champagne glass from a passing waiter and stand beside said brother. We’re holding a gathering at the house to celebrate the brotherhood’s alliance with the Yakuza. The brotherhood leaders and the heads of other factions have shown up, too.

The reason for the strengthening of this relationship—Damien—has fucked off to God knows where. I haven’t seen his fiancée, either, since her father introduced her earlier.

The downside of being Pakhan is the obligation to conduct private meetings and indulge in stupid small talk, but that’s the last thing on my mind.

I haven’t been able to replace an explanation for the feeling that’s been plaguing my insides these last couple of days.

The simple definition would be unease and dread of the unknown where Sasha’s concerned. The first reaction my brain came up with was to suffocate her further, lock her the fuck up if need be, so there won’t be a way out no matter how much she tries.

But that would mean completely eradicating whatever semblance of peace we’ve been having.

She’d hate it and me.

Besides, it’s not that she’s trying to leave.

Or maybe that’s what she’s doing, but discreetly so I won’t be able to thwart her plans.

“They’re surprisingly close,” my brother says from beside me, his attention on the two women.

They’re standing with the annoying Rai and Adrian’s wife, Lia, as if this is some sort of a sorority.

Sasha is wearing a loose black dress that stops right above her knees. Her shiny blonde hair is loose, now reaching the middle of her back. She hasn’t cut it once since she went back to being a woman.

Although her heels aren’t as high as the others’, she’s still the tallest of the bunch. The most beautiful, too. Just saying.

“More like, your wife is surprisingly clingy.” I direct my malicious glare at my brother. “Keep her away from my wife.”

He raises a brow. “Not sure that’s how it works.”

“Find a solution that works, then.”

He smiles, and it’s surprisingly mischievous. “Is it so bad that she’s making women friends? At least they’re not the guards you strongly oppose of.”

“I don’t like anyone who’s prone to steal her time from me.”

“You need help.”

“Yes. Yours. In the form of stopping Kristina from taking away my wife to fuck knows where.”

Even Karina has been getting annoyed at not being able to spend as much time as possible with Sasha. My sister is hiding in her room as we speak. She may have started to leave the house at times, but crowds still freak her out.

“Ever thought she might actually need a social circle outside of yourself?” Konstantin asks like an idiot.

“No.”

“I would say I’m surprised, but that would be a lie…” he trails off when our mother—correction, his mother—appears at the bottom of the stairs with her brother, Yakov.

He’s on the board of the family bank and has always disregarded me, unlike the rest of her siblings, who have supported me since day one. Including my eldest uncle, who’s the head of the family and the bank.

Yulia has always gotten along with Yakov. He’s the only sibling she’s visited over the years, but he rarely came here in the past because he and Roman hated each other with passion.

He only started showing his face in our family home after his death.

My attention slides back to Konstantin, who’s gripping his flute so tight, I’m surprised it doesn’t break into pieces.

It’s no secret that he and Yulia have a strained relationship since he indirectly picked Kristina over her and married a woman his mother doesn’t approve of.

But it’d take a miracle for Yulia to hate her golden child. I thought Konstantin was using this chance to put some form of distance between him and his toxic mother, but maybe that’s not the whole story.

I narrow my eyes on Yulia and Yakov, then direct my gaze at my brother. “Is there something I need to know?”

He purses his lips but says nothing.

“Konstantin.” I adopt my most diplomatic tone as I face him. “I know we haven’t been model siblings, but you’re still my brother. If Yakov is giving you shit of any sort, I’ll hang him by his balls before he can blink. You don’t need to worry about the repercussions. I have enough power to squash him—”

“It’s Yulia.”

“You want me to hang Yulia by her imaginary balls?”

He snickers, but it’s fleeting. “Be serious.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Something happened this morning, and I…I want to believe I’m wrong.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“She…I’ve heard her whisper something to her maid a couple of times before. Something about giving Kris herbs that improve immunity and fuck knows what. I didn’t think much of it in the beginning, but out of precaution, I offered to give Kristina whatever herbs my mother had prepared, then I dumped them down the drain. I asked Kris to never drink or eat in her company and to only consume what Anna gives her.” His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. “Tell me I’m being paranoid.”

“Have you tested said herbs?”

“I got the results today.”

“Let me guess. They’re toxic.”

The clenching of his jaw is all the answer I need. “Maybe she didn’t know…”

“Wake the fuck up. That woman never does anything without a purpose. She wants your baby dead.”

“But it’s her grandchild.”

“And Kara and I are her fucking children. Do you think she took that into consideration when she tried to kill us? You’ve seen her throw herself down the fucking stairs when she was pregnant with our sister. You were old enough to remember.” I pause and soften my tone. “She’s always been obsessed with your safety and well-being, but she can’t stand Kristina. She’s the woman because of whom you went against her. Your mother isn’t the type who takes no for an answer. She probably thinks if she gets rid of Kristina’s child, you’ll have no reason to stay with her and will divorce her.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Then she won’t stop until it does.”

His chest rises and falls in an intense rhythm. “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t think Kris is safe around her anymore.”

“I can kick Yulia out.”

He pauses, touches his neck, then sighs, “She’d ask me to come along.”

“Then say no, motherfucker. Unless you’re in the mood to witness a tragedy?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I will make it happen first thing in the morning.” I clink my glass against his.

He drinks, though he still seems hesitant. Konstantin’s problem is that he always tries to see some of Yulia’s good side. It makes sense, considering all the love she poured out on him. At some point, she ended up asphyxiating him, and he always hated her attitude toward us, even if he pretended he didn’t.

“You might want to look further into Yakov,” Konstantin says.

“What for?”

“He’s her right hand in everything I refuse to take part in.”

Hmm.

Interesting.

This could be the clue I’ve been missing at the basis of my theory. I shoot Viktor a text.

Check Yakov’s whereabouts around the time of the cottage’s bombing and any possible communications with Makar.

Soon after, we’re joined by Adrian, who’s also not a fan of being separated from his wife. We don’t have to enjoy each other’s company, though, because thankfully, our evening is all set.

I have a few meetings with the Yakuza and the Luciano leaders, but my mind is occupied with other, more pressing issues.

When I go back to the main hall, I catch a glimpse of Kristina with Konstantin, and Rai is talking to Kyle. Lia is with her husband’s guards, but there’s no trace of Sasha.

A potent sense of paralyzing terror grabs hold of me, and I have to force myself to breathe properly as I call her. Her phone is turned off.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

I ask Kristina about my wife’s whereabouts, and she says Sasha left a while earlier.

Does that mean she left for good? Have I been blindsided?

I head to our room two steps at a time while twisting my wedding ring until I nearly break my finger the fuck off.

When I open the door and go inside, my breathing slowly returns to normal. Sasha is lying on the sofa, eyes closed and arms wrapped around her middle.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

If I keep going like this, I might have a heart attack the moment she disappears on me again.

I need that tracker on her. Now.

Yes, I still have her at the moment, but who knows what will happen in a few days or even a few hours.

My alarm has reached levels I can’t control anymore. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve become apprehensive about leaving the house and, therefore, her.

I’ve just finished texting Viktor to make the arrangements, when Sasha stirs. She props herself up on her elbows, eyes sleepy and voice husky. “Who is it?”

“It’s me.” I slip my phone back into my pocket.

She sits up, recognition slowly returning to her eyes. “Have I been gone for too long? I just needed a little nap.”

“Since when do you need naps?”

She swallows but soon smiles. “You haven’t been letting me get enough sleep lately, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Hmm.”

“And you probably won’t hold back tonight either, will you?” She starts to stand up, but I shake my head.

Sasha’s confused eyes meet mine, and I watch her closely for a few seconds. “What’s going on, wife?”

“What…do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. You’ve changed, and I need to figure out the reason why. I’m offering you the chance to tell me yourself amicably. If you refuse, I might have to use methods you don’t approve of.”

“Nothing’s changed.”

“Bullshit. One more chance.”

“Kirill…”

“Is it your family? Are they sucking you in again? Is it because of any of the meetings with Anton? Is he turning you against me? Are you choosing to believe their propaganda?”

“That’s not—”

“Then give me something!” I cut her off, my voice losing all its cool before I release a breath and attempt to grasp onto my nonexistent calm. “Last chance.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“Very well.” I adjust my glasses. “Come here.”

She walks carefully, her eyes shining when she notices the animalistic lust that must be visible on my face.

Sasha is the perfect mirror of my primitive tendencies. The fact that she gets excited whenever I’m close to the edge is a clear indication of how compatible we are.

“Stop,” I order, and she comes to a halt. “On your knees.”

Sasha gets into the position slowly, as if she’s never been there before.

“Now, crawl to me. Show me how much you want my cock.”

Her lips part, and I swear she’s about to say something, but instead, she gets on all fours and slowly crawls to me. The slope of her pale tits tease from beneath the décolletage, creating a contrast against the black fabric.

A gentle sway lifts her hips, and a pink blush covers her cheeks and throat. My Sasha takes her time in the seduction game, not hurrying nor slowing down, as if she knows exactly the type of effect she’s having on my starved cock.

My erection thickens and strains against my boxer briefs, demanding her heat.

I manage to stay in place, though, patiently waiting for her to get her ass over here.

My expression must be unwelcoming, though, because Sasha pauses when she finally reaches me. Her inquisitive eyes plunge into mine as if she’s trying to get a read on the situation.

“Get my cock out,” I order in a closed-off tone.

Her soft hands unbuckle my pants, and she fumbles with my zipper and boxer briefs before she frees my cock.

It’s been semi-hard during the whole show, but it gets painfully hard in her hold. She has to take it in both hands, stroking gently as she peeks up at me.

My palm covers her cheek, and she leans into my touch, eyes closing briefly.

“Don’t just caress it, Solnyshko. Choke on my cock.”

A shiver goes through her, but she slides me in as far and as gently as she can without triggering her gag reflex. Then she pulls it out and licks and sucks on the crown before sliding it back in again. The friction of her wet little mouth has me hard as fuck.

But that’s not the only emotion going through me. Lust is prevalent, but it’s mixed with a tinge of rage. A wave of anger so steep and hollow, I don’t know how far I’ll go if I act on it.

Which is why I’m not.

I’m giving her the liberty to do it herself, because if I fuck her mouth, I’m going to hurt her. No doubt about it.

Her noises of pleasure echo in the air as she deep-throats my dick, probably because she knows I like that. And because she’s learned my tendencies so well, she doesn’t stop there and uses her tongue to give me more friction.

I might know all her buttons to push, but she’s also learned mine by heart. And maybe that’s why it’s pissing me the fuck off.

“I’m not hearing you choke, Sasha.” My voice teeters between lust and control.

Her eyes, now green with a smidge of yellow, fill with determination as they meet mine. She ups her pace, takes me down her throat, and even strokes my balls.

Sasha continues in that rhythm, sucking my cock like it’s a Popsicle until her noises echo in the air. I have to force myself not to thrust down her throat.

If I do that, I won’t stop.

If I do that—

She slides me out of her mouth, her eyes glittery and her lips glistening with precum and her saliva. “Kirill…”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? You’re the one who’s supposed to be giving me a sloppy blowjob.”

“Yeah, but ordinarily, you would’ve taken control by now.”

A smirk lifts my lips. “You want that?”

Her head bobs up and down with an eager nod.

“What else do you want, Solnyshko?”

She lies back on the carpet, opens her legs, and lifts her dress enough to reveal her soaking- wet white panties. I always love how she gets horny, even by sucking me off.

“Fuck me,” she says in a throaty voice that nearly makes me come.

“What if I’m not in the mood?” I say as I kneel between her legs and remove my belt.

“Oh, please. You’re always in the mood.”

“Maybe I’m in a bad mood today, Sasha.” I wrap the belt around my hand and slap her panty-covered pussy.

She gasps, her nails digging into the carpet, but her eyes fill with lust. So I remove her panties and groan at the Luchik’s tattooed on her skin forever.

“You shouldn’t have asked me to fuck you when I’m in this mood, because I won’t stop.” Slap. “I’ll have to wear you down and own you, wife.” Slap. “I’ll have to make you mine again and again so that you can’t think about leaving anymore.”

My name leaves her mouth in a moan as she jerks off the ground, her inner thighs shaking and her eyes rolling back.

“No, don’t come.” I stop spanking her pussy and wrap the leather around her throat.

She releases a groan, jerking her hips so that my cock is at her opening. “Please, please, don’t do the stupid orgasm denial. I hate it.”

“And you think I don’t hate it when you lie to me?”

“Kirill…” She tries to push herself against my cock, but I tighten the leather belt around her throat, stopping her from moving.

She reaches a hand out and strokes my cheek, my nose, and my lips. “Please…please…”

The desperation in her voice does me in. I can’t really deny her when she looks at me with those glittery eyes.

I would do any-fucking-thing for those eyes.

Her moan echoes in the air as I thrust inside her, but it’s cut off when I hold each end of the belt on the carpet, pulling in opposite directions.

My Sasha comes at that because she’s made for me. I get off on stealing her air,; she gets off on having her oxygen taken. I get off on fucking hard; she gets off on being handled roughly.

I pound into her through her orgasm, hitting her sensitive spot over and over. Her lips form in a wordless scream, and her back arches off the carpet.

She doesn’t try to ease the belt from around her throat. There isn’t even that natural instinct to save herself.

That’s because she trusts me not to kill her.

Not to hurt her.

Not to…violate her trust.

I release the belt when her face becomes too red and then lift her up with my hand around her back. Now that she’s sitting on my lap, the angle is deeper, and I thrust faster from beneath.

“You’re taking my cock like such a good girl.” I’m about to remove her dress, but Sasha wraps her arms around my neck and crashes her lips to mine.

She kisses me like a madwoman while matching my rhythm. Her ass slaps on my groin again and again.

Well, fuck.

It doesn’t take me long to shoot my load inside her. My wife doesn’t stop kissing me while rotating her hips, going up and down in a slow, seductive rhythm.

I pull away from her. “Are you massaging your cunt with my cum, Solnyshko?”

Her bright eyes meet mine. “Don’t you do that all the time?”

Yes, I do. But I didn’t know she enjoyed it this much. I slowly slide out and reposition her, so she’s sitting on my parted thighs. My cum and her arousal drip onto the carpet.

“So messy.” I gather my cum from her pussy lips and thrust it back inside her.

Sasha shudders, an erotic smile parting her mouth as she lifts herself up and down on my fingers.

She’s still chasing the remnants of her orgasm, judging by her trembling legs and clenching cunt.

I indulge her, loving the feel of her in my arms a bit too much. I fucked Sasha for four hundred twenty times, and the spark still remains the same.

What? Of course, I’m still counting.

I release her after a while, and she sags against me, her head hidden in my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist.

We spend a few moments like that before I say, “Are you not going to tell me what’s going on?”

She shudders against me, her heartbeat picking up against my chest. “How do you know something is going on?”

“Because you’re not acting normal, and I notice everything about you.”

She pulls away, but keeps her fingers threaded at my nape. “Can you give me time?”

“How long is time? A day? Two?”

“A bit longer than that. I…need to meet my family first and—”

“No.”

“I can’t just avoid them forever. Just like you can’t lock up Anton for life.”

“Both are doable.”

“Kirill,” she says with a note of frustration. “Be reasonable.”

“I perfectly am. The last two times you went to see your fucking family, I got shot twice, and you made me believe you were dead.”

“We’ll never be at peace this way.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“This is our lives. Yours and mine. You’re not the only one who gets to worry about it. I have a say in it, too. You keep calling me your wife, but you’ll never be my husband unless you make me your partner in everything.”

“You already are.”

“Not if you don’t talk to me about the decisions you make concerning the two of us.”

“Did you talk to me when you faked your fucking death, Sasha?” My voice raises, and she goes still, her breath catching. “How would you feel if I did that, hmm?”

“I already said I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her fingers stroking my nape. “We both made mistakes, but we’re in new territory now. You have to give me time, please.”

Every cell in me revolts at the idea, but I know this is exactly what I need to do so we can have our new beginning.

“Fine, but you’re not meeting them without me.”

She rolls her eyes, but a smile paints her lips as she lays her head on my shoulder again. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until we get this over with.”

She releases an affirmative sound. “Do we have to go back to the party?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh. But people will know that you fucked me.”

“I don’t give a fuck. In fact, it’s good they know you’re mine and off-limits.”

“Caveman.”

“Your caveman.”

“Mmm. I like that.” Her voice trails off, sounding sleepy. “Give me ten.”

I’m stroking her hair as she falls back against my chest when my phone vibrates.

The name on the screen makes me pause.

Boss. This is Makar. I’m sorry for disappearing, but I have to tell you that you’re in danger. Can we meet?