Chapter 250 252

Chapter 250 252
CLARA

I can’t breathe.

I can’t hear.

I know I’ve suddenly gone blind because there’s no way in hell I’m seeing this machine flash that giant word in front of me.

Jackpot.

There’s no way this can happen to me—twice—right?

This time, my victory fists manage to not punch a tray of champagne all over the broodingly handsome man who’s currently watching me like a hawk. He’s got this strange smile on his face like he’s happy for me but also dealing with a bout of constipation.

“I won!” I point at the screen flashing my winnings. “I fucking won!”

“Look at you, cleaning out my house.” Demyen chuckles and presses a kiss to the curve of my neck. “I hope you know this means you have to give me a chance to win it back.”

I giggle and turn to face his mischievous little grin. “Oh, really? Since when?”

There it is again: that flash of uncertainty. Like he’s happy, but he’s… nervous? He shutters it away and kisses me full on the mouth. “Since forever. House rules.”

“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Bambi sidles over, cocktail in one hand and Pavel’s arm looped in the other. She winks at me when she sees me blush. When she looks at Demyen, she pauses. “Hey, buddy, you lookin’ a little… backed-up. Need some fiber?”

Demyen narrows his eyes at her. “Shut up.”

Bambi giggles and elbows Pavel, who looks like the cat who ate the canary. “Everything’s good to go,” he informs us. “The arrangements were made and everything panned out smoothly.”

I’m assuming he means the arrangements Demyen decided to make regarding the trafficking victims we helped liberate several weeks ago. After Raizo’s men were executed—and I did end up staying to watch, protected in Demyen’s tight embrace while he called out the command to ready, aim, fire—the eighty women we recovered were taken to a small collection of safehouses belonging to the Bratva across the Mojave Desert.

At first, it was meant to be a temporary overnight stay until Bambi could make sure any calls to the authorities wouldn’t lead them to filing unrelated charges against Demyen, Tolya, or anyone else involved in the raid.

But then word began to spread in all the right circles. The more he tried to help these women find their families and regain some semblance of normalcy, the more his phone rang and his email inbox filled with requests for interviews with heads of state and investigative agencies around the world.

Last week, he had a meeting with the FBI.

From what I understand, they may be turning a blind eye to his smuggling operations in exchange for his cooperation as a consultant within the human trafficking division.

Demyen Zakrevsky, internationally recognized good guy.

Never thought I’d see the day.

“I’m proud of you,” I tell him with every ounce of love pushed through each syllable.

Demyen looks at me, confused for a moment. As if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. But then he smiles and nuzzles my hair. “You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.”

Bambi coughs on her drink. Pavel elbows her in the ribs and pretends like he’s focused on something on his phone.

I… don’t exactly know what’s going on.

“Tolya just texted,” Pavel says with a nervous little cough. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s changing subjects. On purpose. “Willow is being a perfect little angel and has him wrapped around her finger.”

“As she should,” I laugh. I’m so glad those two are getting along. It took Willow exactly zero seconds to welcome the giant Russian ex-con into her glittery pink world of dolls, crayons, and a pitbull named Princess. It took Tolya hardly even a few minutes to adjust to being The Fun Uncle who dotes on his sweetly mischievous little niece.

My theory? Eva’s been a huge factor in getting his life back to “normal.”

It was the worst possible time for sparks to fly between two people, but they did the moment Tolya stumbled across her at the depot. Nothing mattered to him—not how she was found or what was being done to her, or what had been done to her—except getting her out of that hell, simply because something in his gut screamed at him to protect her.

To cherish her.

And then to sweetly crush on her from afar while giving her space to recover from her horrific time in Raizo’s Hell.

Demyen didn’t even ask if she needed a place to stay. He took one look at the way Tolya tripped over himself to make sure Eva felt safe and protected at the villa compound, and the next thing anyone knows, she had her own suite of rooms not too far from Tolya’s.

There’s been no rush for anything since. Now that our worst enemies are gone, we can say that and mean it. Eva knows she can come to me and talk about the nightmares when they get too bad. She’s always welcome into Willow’s solarium room to play with dolls and color pictures that they tape to the walls. She doesn’t have to worry about Tolya pushing her into anything she doesn’t want; he’s happy enough just knowing she’s okay.

I just haven’t told Demyen about what I think I heard the other night as I walked past her room near the courtyard.

I mean, I could be wrong.

I’m just pretty sure I know what a breathless moan sounds like.

That’s honestly the reason why I insisted Tolya and Eva both babysit Willow tonight while Demyen sweeps me off my feet to celebrate the new arrangement with the FBI. I want them to have time to see each other in the possibilities that lie ahead.

Just like how I got to see what Demyen and I have now, back when it was only a feverish daydream.

“You know, I could use a good drink.” Demyen waggles his brows playfully at me and presses his hand to the small of my back. “Why don’t we head up to our room for the evening?”

“Are you sure?” I twist my head around to see if the bar really is that busy. Why can’t we just stay here? “They’ve got good drinks down here⁠—”

“I special ordered a classic vintage. It’s waiting for us on ice upstairs.”

“Ooohhh.” Now, it’s my turn to playfully waggle my brows at him. “You don’t have to make me beg, y’know.”

“No. But I could do that. Later.”

Heat blooms in my core and I have to press my thighs together as we board one of the private elevators that lead to the Royal Walkway. It’s really just a skypath from the casino to the executive suites of the Meridian’s hotel side, but people in this city do love nicknaming things fancifully.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?” he croons once we’re inside the elevator. His arms wrap around me from behind and he nibbles on the shell of my ear.

“Only about a hundred times.”

“That’s all? I must be off my game.”

I try to turn around to tease him, but he keeps me pinned there against the glass, making me keep my eyes on the glittering crowd of the main floor as the elevator carries us toward the top floors.

His lips wander from my ear to my neck. “I’m so tempted to turn on the emergency stop. Enjoy you right here.”

I bite my lip. “Where everyone can see us?”

Demyen roams his hands over my body and for one core-inflaming second, I actually think he’s about to peel my dress off. “The whole world needs to see how much I fucking love you, my beautiful, enchanting, incredible woman.” Each compliment is underlined with a kiss to my skin, with the last one curling my toes as he sucks a lovebite into the curve of my neck and shoulder.

The elevator softly dings.

Dammit.

“Don’t worry.” He definitely heard me huff a small sigh of disappointment. “Wait until you see the room.”

When we step inside the room—excuse me, the Presidential Suite of The Meridian Hotel—I immediately see what he means.