Page 7 of One of Them (Beyond Ties #1)

Ringtone I was far too familiar with rang through the office. The device buzzed against my thigh, sending vibrations down my body. Any other time, I would’ve welcomed the sensation. Now, it was all I could focus on.

Our regular meetups were constantly interrupted by that annoying sound.

I narrowed my eyes at the man behind me. Malek stood in his full glory, too wrapped up in pleasure to acknowledge the noise. His jeans hung low at his hips, just enough to spare us the time. I wiggled out of his grip, intent on cutting the phone from his pocket.

Crash it against the wall. Drown it in the whiskey cup. Anything to silence it.

When he continued without notice, my patience ran out. I reached for the phone, smashed it on the table, and put it on speaker to rile him up. Hushed words filtered through the device. While I now spoke fluent Russian, the dialect was entirely unfamiliar to me.

Malek’s arm wrapped around me from behind, pulling me close. With surprising gentleness, he cupped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His thumb brushed over my lower lip, eyes burning with something darker than just desire.

“Focus,” he murmured. But his eyes never left mine as he picked up the phone, listening intently to the call. I studied him, noting the tension in his jaw and the way his grip stayed firm around my chin. The subtle possessiveness was his signature move, but I refused to analyze the reasons.

There was only one use outside of work I had for the man, and my intentions had been clear since day one.

When he finally spoke to whoever was on the phone, I laughed at his secretiveness. I didn’t care who he was talking to. Another woman or Bratva business, it was all just noise to me.

What I cared for was his attention for the short time I allowed him close.

“If we can’t even fuck in peace, we’re nothing,” I threatened, ready to give up the little we had, loud enough for the caller to hear. I’d grown tired of the interruptions.

Malek didn’t respond right away, his gaze flicking over me as if calculating something. When he finally hung up, he released my chin with an almost reluctant sigh.

“I’m leaving for Russia today,” he announced, his voice thick with the weight of the decision.

He tucked himself in, placed a kiss on my forehead.

And when he turned to leave, it hit me. Seeing his back didn’t bother me.

I hadn’t craved his presence, only the adrenaline, the high.

One side was more dependent than the other.

The terms of our arrangement had blurred somewhere in between the moans and rushed decisions.

“This is it, Malek. I’m calling it,” I shouted after him, making my seriousness clear .

There was no acknowledgment, no sign of understanding in the subtle smile he gave me.

“Later, solnishko ,” he replied, shutting the door behind him on his way out.

Damn that unfit name. There was nothing bright about me. When I shined, it was the light that led you straight to the depths of hell.

Alone in the room, I looked around, wondering why I’d come early. Ilya had summoned me for a meeting, but it wasn’t for another hour.

Files were scattered across the floor, all wiped away in a moment of impatience. I stood over the papers, ignoring the photos peeking from each file.

What hadn’t landed in my inbox was not my problem to solve.

I sneaked downstairs into Ilya’s office, avoiding any interaction along the way. The same couches from all those years ago still stood in the space, so I sat in the same spot, waiting. I stared directly across, recalling the first time I met the two of them.

Much had changed since then. We all changed.

Malek was still a member of Bratva, Ilya’s second in command, but things were far from ideal since he’d gained quite the popularity.

The man worked his way up the ranks faster than anyone, immediately earning respect from his fellow members.

He went from a foot soldier, a nobody, to the highest position an outsider could hold.

The kind of attention he was attracting was dangerous. Ilya knew it, but we still hadn’t addressed the claims. To complicate matters, Malek and I had this little thing going. Ilya was aware, but he never brought it up.

Long before his advances, and well past our first meeting, Malek had been visiting the States regularly after Ilya tasked him with overseeing business operations in Russia in Pakhan’s name.

Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of attractive men in the underground groups.

I sought them out whenever the urge hit, sparing myself the guilt of bringing someone from the outside.

These guys made their own choices. They joined the ranks and accepted the consequences, along with the dangers. I had nothing to do with it.

Malek was my first selfish decision. One that led to a night or two of passion or more like rough fucking we both needed. I told myself I’d stop so many times that I lost count.

Perhaps it was the initial pull or just the familiarity I clung to. We got the attraction out of our systems. It was time to move on.

No longer the girl who feared the world. An orphan turned assassin, hanging out and fucking with well-known criminals. That’s what my life had become. Mother would be proud. NOT.

I chuckled at the thought as I sat there, but the weight remained on my shoulders, pressing down in the right spots.

***

“I’m getting married,” Ilya greeted me with a bombshell the moment he entered. Straight to the point was very much his style, but this? This was not.

“You’re what?” I stood up from the couch, facing him.

“I said I’m getting married,” he repeated slowly, as if I needed it spelled out.

“I heard you. It’s just not registering.”

“Let’s hope it does, because it’s happening.”

I walked toward his desk, looking at him like he’d grown a second head overnight. Which, frankly, seemed more likely than this.

“Hold on. I’m so lost. Where did you even find somebody?”

“Thanks,” Ilya snickered, clearly offended by my bluntness. I didn’t mean for my words to come across as an attack. I’d never seen him with a woman, let alone someone worth marrying.

“Did you kidnap her? Please tell me there isn’t a girl tied up in your bedroom. I’m not dealing with that. ”

“It’s an arranged marriage,” he announced, the words slipping from his mouth so naturally.

Now, the first option seemed like the better choice.

“What?” I snapped, my hands landing on the edge of the desk.

“Why are you shouting?” Ilya asked, far too calmly.

I gestured at his head. “Because you’ve lost your marbles.”

“Possibly. But it’s set.”

“Did she agree?”

“Yes,” he assured me. “Her brothers aren’t happy, but it’s agreed.” When words escaped me, Ilya added, “I need to get married and think about the future.”

The future?

My face must’ve shown what I was feeling because Ilya read me like a book.

“It’s no big deal, Taya,” he brushed off my concerns.

“When is this all happening?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the sudden shift.

“The announcement will go out in a month.”

“Not beating around the bush,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

Ilya simply nodded. “You might say that.”

“What’s going on? You know you can tell me,” I pressed, voicing the question we’d all been avoiding. “Does this have something to do with Malek rising to power?”

Ilya’s face remained unreadable as he dismissed my words as if they hadn’t been spoken.

“Can I count on you?” he asked instead.

“Of course. Getting married,” I puffed out the words with a dry laugh. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Maybe you’ll be next,” Ilya joked, pushing my buttons, his gaze lingering as he waited for a reaction .

The warning I threw his way was nothing short of deadly. “You know my opinion on that topic.”

The concept of marriage, even romantic relationships, was foreign to me.

I’d never witnessed it firsthand at home, and the people around me weren’t much better.

I knew it brought along problems I wasn’t interested in.

Not only did I have secrets to protect, but I also wasn’t sold on the idea of sharing my life with some stranger.

I was yet to meet anyone worth considering going down that path for.

“If you say so.”

“Tell me about the lucky maiden.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

Ilya groaned at the action. “Can you not make her sound like a seventeen-year-old?”

“I have nothing to go off, do I? How old is she?”

“Twenty-six, I believe. She has three brothers, all underbosses in Bratva. Their family was one of the founding ones.”

“Do you like her?” I questioned, hoping for a better understanding of where they stood.

“What is this? The eighth grade?” He shivered. “She’s an attractive woman. As far as I can tell.”

“This is honestly painful to listen to,” I retorted. “But I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Ilya appeared pleased with my answer, his head inclining just an inch.

We moved on to the other topics we needed to discuss as if his entire world wasn’t changing, but the thoughts still lingered when I left his office and walked out of the compound.

Over the years, Ilya had expanded the place exponentially. The area now occupied so much land that one could easily get lost, but that didn’t stop him from buying up all the surrounding plots.

With necessities like a brand-new gym, armory, and a hacking lab built onsite, everything was within reach, saving the members time and distance .

Ilya had insisted I move into the lines of houses forming what we called ‘the village,’ where those closest to him lived.

I turned him down, unprepared to commit to him or the Bratva.

I certainly hadn’t worked this hard just to be beneath someone.

While Ilya and the others hired me as a contractor, none of them were above me.

Never owned, never restrained.

Based out of the same apartment downtown, I commuted whenever I got called.

The door clicked shut behind me, and the silence of the apartment swallowed me whole.

It was untouched, everything in place, from the sleek furniture to the polished floors.

The air still held the faint scent of fresh paint.

I didn’t bother making it home. It was just a place to sleep, nothing more.

Takeout was my go-to since cooking reminded me of things I’d rather forget. I ate in silence, staring out the window at the people below, feeling distant from them all. The city was a blur, just like everything else in my life.

I had something going for me, I reminded myself, and I wouldn’t jeopardize it by dwelling on the past. Still, in my weakest moments, I would daydream of a life where the wrongs had been righted. But who would do that?

Justice was a laughable concept. There most certainly was no fairness among those who lived in this city. It was grab-and-go. And those in power never had enough, no matter how much they took.

That night, I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Nothing kept me up; it was just how this body operated now. A fault of my own. I had trained my system to survive on limited supplies, sleep included.

At night was perhaps the only time I allowed myself a moment to remember her. Out of respect, not longing. A loving face that had been dissolving in memory. Guilt lived somewhere deep inside me .

If I had asked more questions, maybe we could have prevented all that happened. Who was I to be worth losing their life over?

They say you should give forgiveness, but I had no one to give it to. Their choices had stripped me of my family and left me paranoid and full of anger. Even with a backpack full of baggage I had been dragging everywhere, the sun still rises, and I get up and let the past go for a while longer.