Page 24 of Darkest Craving

WOLFGANG

I wait outside while Victoria gets ready. Lighting up the only cigarette I’m allowing myself this week, I inhale the nicotine and tilt my head to the sky as I exhale. It’s a filthy habit I started for no other reason than to make my mind shut up, especially late at night.

Ever since Victoria came along, I haven’t needed it as much. The only reason I’m doing it now is because I can’t be thinking about her sweet little ass.

I want to take her out, give her something new to look forward to—she’s been locked in here long enough.

And if I get a hard-on again while I wait, and she comes outside looking perfect, all I’d do is take her right back.

Rip whatever pretty dress she puts on, and lose myself between her legs a few more times.

So I breathe in the deadly substance, trying my damndest to clear my mind when voices get my attention from the garden wrapping around the house.

“…disappear with those lowlifes you call friends, while I’m here, all by myself, trying to salvage your future!” Ekaterina says.

Mikhail chuckles. “There is no future for us lowlifes, Mother. Now, is that all? Or do you want to waste some more of my time?”

The cigarette burns in my hand, reducing itself to ashes.

“You know what, Mikhail? Maybe your father is right to see things this way. Maybe you’ll truly never be as good as Wolfgang. God, it’s like you’re not even fucking trying–”

Movement catches my eye to my right, my wife approaching my side, looking absolutely flawless.

Her soft, cream-colored dress, skin-tight, molds perfectly to her beautiful curves and breasts, no straps, my collar tight on her neck.

The material has some sort of minuscule glitter particles in it, because she shines with every move she makes.

Her platinum hair is down and wavy, and she even put some makeup on—smoky eyes and faintly contoured lips that make her look like a goddamn supermodel.

She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I hate how much I need her to know it.

I’m only just realizing I can make my wife shine to the true power she harbors inside her.

A raw, primal need pulses through my chest, wanting me to keep doing it.

I smile to myself, choosing not to bother with what I just overheard in the garden. Whatever it was, it can wait. I just want to get the fuck out of this madhouse.

I take her hand, tapping a finger to my mouth to silence her as I lead her away from the scene and back into the driveway. When we’re too far from them to hear us, she asks–

“What was that all about? They’re… fighting?”

I open the door to the passenger side for her. “They don’t always see eye to eye.”

She bites her lower lip, eyes sliding back over to the garden, as if she can see them.

“You know, maybe you could find some middle ground with him.”

“With Mikhail? I told you, he and I–”

“I know. I know. It’s just… I don’t know. I was never close to my sister. And if she had thrown me a branch at any point, I would have taken it.”

I smile, loving how sweet and caring she is. With me, of all people.

“Let’s go.”

She tilts her head at me, as if to accuse me of not hearing her out. I am. But this conversation can wait.

***

The moment I help my wife out of the car, I know every man will look at her. And I know exactly how I’ll deal with it if they do.

I didn’t let Ilia drive us this time, wanting to be alone with Victoria. I don’t know why, since I didn’t initiate conversation, and she seemed to be elsewhere the entire ride. I kept wondering what she was thinking about, but never asked.

Now, we’re here. And it looks like reality is dawning on her.

She looks around at the bustling city—a steep contrast from the sheltered, mountain-side estate in Alemont City where I’ve been keeping her. Cars flash and honk, people hurry places, shops blink with lit signs. I watch her take it in, before taking her delicate hand in mine.

“Thinking about running, love?”

She keeps silent for a moment, staring at the sidewalk. Then her lips part, and without looking at me, she says, “I know you well enough by now to know you’d find me. Drag me right back and start all over.”

Had she said this a few weeks ago, I would’ve thought she’d given up, like that week she refused to eat and get out of bed.

I hated seeing her like that. Breaking her wasn’t nearly as interesting as I thought it would be.

But now? She’s not giving up. She’s accepting defeat graciously, making the best of what she has.

My lips curve upward. “Let’s go inside.”

Victoria’s heels click softly against the pavement as I take us into the restaurant. I look over my shoulder at the trail of my men following close. Usually, there’s not so many of us when I come to New York for business. But with Victoria here, I didn’t want to take any chances.

Rival families are always looking for opportunities to put a bullet in my head. I won’t give them the satisfaction when I’m out with my wife.

Le Ciel Noir is a restaurant I always come to whenever I'm in the city. I’ve known the owners for the past fifteen years, and they’re possibly the only two people in the world who smile when they see me. Even if they know who I am and what I do.

Coming here is like coming home for a warm meal after being on the road for too long. Which is why I never bring anyone with me—not for business, not for fun, and especially not for show.

“Good evening, Mr. Rykov,” Julian, the usual server, greets us. He looks at me with a plea in his eyes, and I nod, letting him know it’s fine to address her. “Mrs. Rykov,” he says, bowing his head. “Please, follow me. I’ll show you to your table.”

I pull her gently behind me, scanning the restaurant with my eyes. It’s already been cleared by Ivan, but I take the extra precaution. When we get to our table, facing Central Park, I pull her chair out, and she takes a seat, whimpering a little from the object still in her ass.

The sound shoots right to my cock, giving me an erection I’ll have to hide by sitting the fuck down.

Before I do, I lean down to her ear. “You make that sound again, and I’ll have no choice but to kick everyone out. Even in my favorite restaurant, you’re still the only taste I crave in my mouth. Remember that.”

Her eyes widen, then glance around as I take my seat opposite from her. It’s kind of romantic, you could say, with the sunset falling over the city, leaving trails of burned orange all around the pristine tables and the candle-lit space.

Julian comes in, pouring us my favorite wine and taking our order before I’m alone with her again.

“You haven’t looked at me once since we arrived,” I tell her.

Her fingers are steady as she reaches for her glass, eyes wandering everywhere else but in my direction. Is she being shy because of the plug? No, that’s not it. She always blushes when that happens.

“I’m just seeing who’s here.”

“You think I’d bring you somewhere I can’t protect you?”

“No.” Her eyes slide slowly over to mine. “I think you like the idea that someone might try.”

I leave out a hum of what I can only describe as satisfaction.

She’s not wrong. Not one bit. But that’s not what drives the feeling.

It’s the fact that she’s starting to know me.

Understand who I am. If given the choice, would she choose to stay?

Or would she bang her fists into my chest, demanding I let her go?

I guess we’ll never know since I don’t intend to give her that freedom.

“Did you wear that to test me?” I ask.

Her face leans on her palm, as if she’s bored, a sly smile spreading on her full lips. “If I wanted to test you, I would’ve worn less.”

My nostrils flare. I sip my wine, hoping to cool off. But it only makes the fire in my veins burn harder.

One moment she’s sweet, obedient, and licking herself off my thigh. And the next, she’s slow, deliberate, cunning—letting me see all facets of her. I’m finding it difficult to decide which one I like more.

“You told me something,” she says, her finger drawing a large circle against the rim of the glass. “Last night. In Russian.”

I pause, wondering where she’s going with it. Of all the things I’ve said to her—threats, commands, filth whispered into her skin—she remembered that .

“I remember.”

Her lips twitch. “So do I.”

I frown, studying her. The way she says it sounds like a trap. Like she wants me to show all my cards when we’re still in the middle of the game we play.

I look into her baby-blue eyes, at her long lashes closing in on them slowly and opening up again. And I know I should lie to her. Tell her it meant nothing. But the truth is, I know what I said. Why I said it. And I especially remember how her breath hitched when I did.

My hand tightens on my glass.

“You told me it’s getting hard to remember why you started all of this. That you don’t know what to do with me anymore. Did you mean that?”

I ponder my answer carefully, but I know there’s only one.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

She tilts her head, surprised I confessed. “Then tell me one thing. And don’t lie.”

I smile. “Never.”

“What will happen to my family? I assume my father can’t get off that easily, with just me being married off.”

I look down at my glass, then back at her.

A muscle ticks in my jaw. She wants to know if she can trust me.

And I want to tell her the truth, but I don’t know if I can trust her either.

Besides, this isn’t the time or the place.

Anyone could hear us, and the information could easily reach Father.

I won’t be as stupid as to reveal my cards out in public.

“You’re hesitating. Are you afraid to confide in me, Wolfgang?” She laughs under her breath. “Maybe I don’t give myself enough credit.”

Afraid, no. Cautious, maybe. She’s a powerful woman, even if she doesn’t realize it.