Page 13 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

I wrapped up the meeting with the insufferable Colombians and watched them walk out of my office.

My next call was to my secretary, who informed me I had the rest of the day free, but had a scheduled dinner with the Caponis tonight.

The Caponis had been our allies for years, and I looked forward to all the intel they were bringing tonight on a common enemy we share.

Finding myself free, I decided to call Elena.

Knowing her, I knew she would be out for the day.

That woman hasn't spent a day indoors since we struck a deal for her freedom. I didn’t deny her this pleasure, for I truly felt her to be happier.

She had an extra spring in her step, a perpetual smile on her face, and an optimism in her world-view, and I found these changes refreshing.

She almost made me forget all the troubles I had on the work front. When I was around her, nothing felt that urgent, that dire, that insurmountable.

The call went unanswered, and with a frown, I dialled Dom. If she was out, I knew Dom would be at her heels.

“Don’t worry, boss,” he told me after hearing about my predicament. “She's just out shopping. Fifth Avenue boutiques. Been at it for a couple of hours now.”

The tension eased from my shoulders. She was out and busy, as I expected, and there was nothing for me to worry about.

“You sound bored, Dom,” I said, noting the flatness in his tone.

“Just doing my job, sir.” He paused. “Though I could be more useful elsewhere. The shipment from Naples needs supervision since Mr. Carlo can't be there.”

I considered this for a moment. Dom was right—he was wasted following Elena around while she tried on clothes. And with the day being slow at the office, I had found my mind drifting to thoughts of her more often than I cared to admit.

A wild idea crossed my mind, and I grinned. I thought back to last week, how she’d taken me by surprise when she’d walked into my office uninvited and unannounced.

“I'll take it from here,” I decided. “Text me her exact location. Go handle the shipment.”

“You sure, boss? Mrs. Ajello is...”

“A handful? Believe me, I know.” I ran a hand through my hair, already anticipating the headache Elena would give me. “I need a change of scenery anyway. These Colombians drove me crazy with their demands.”

“Alright,” Dom sounded reluctant. “If you say so.”

“I insist.”

***

Fifteen minutes later, I walked into an upscale boutique that Dom told me I’d find her in.

Immediately on entering, an assistant made way for me.

I waved her off, choosing to make my presence a surprise.

The boutique smelled like the fresh ocean; every inch of it made for an elite clientele.

It was clear that Elena liked expensive things, as long as I wasn’t the one buying them for her.

I smiled when I thought back to the day at the jewellery store, how adamant she’d been in her stance.

I walked through the store but couldn’t see her anywhere.

Had she moved on? Gone somewhere else? I had half the mind to step out and hunt through the surrounding stores when I thought better of it.

With a sheepish expression, I made way to the assistant who had first offered her help to ask if she’d seen my wife.

“Your wife, sir?” She cocked an eyebrow at my entitlement. I chided myself for my error. This wasn’t one of my regular haunts. I showed her a picture.

“Ah, yes. Ms. Elena, please, right this way. She’s trying on evening wear,” she led me to a curtain and motioned for me to go right through towards the private trial rooms, and then left me to my devices.

I frowned at the total lack of security. I could have been anyone. I had half the mind to pull the store assistant by her boots, but my need to see Elena surpassed my annoyance at their lacking security measures.

I paused outside the curtain she'd indicated. I was about to call out to Elena when I heard her voice, muttering to herself.

“Too much skin? Not enough? God, I don't know anymore.”

I smiled despite myself.

It was sort of cute to know that Elena talked to herself when confused. Gently, I parted the curtains so as not to startle her and stopped dead when I saw her.

Holy fuck.

My brain short-circuited.

There she stood, a complete vision in sequinned black.

The dress, a sleeveless little item cut low down her back, drew my eyes to what lay beneath.

Her ass, I thought to myself with a watering mouth, screamed Pinch me.

She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress that clung to her every curve like water.

And that length dropped inches down her thighs. Just inches.

She turned to face me, but didn’t notice me since she had her head thrown back to check out another angle in the mirror, and that’s when I saw the front properly.

The dress was tight around her chest before flaring out from her ribs.

So damn tight that her breasts pooled on top, showing a swell that gave me such nasty, dirty thoughts that I was forced to take a step back.

Accidentally, I slammed into the wall.

Elena whirled towards me, distracted by the sound. The way she moved, giving me a full view of how her hips swirled when she did, caused my cock to instantly swell against my will. I tried to hold back a groan as her eyes widened at the sight of me.

“Gastone? What? How ?” she gasped, clutching her dress in panic, trying to pull it down before deciding otherwise and reaching to cover her chest with her hands.

My eyes travelled to her hands, dangerously close to her breasts, and I forced myself to look back at her face.

She seemed flustered by my presence, a slight flush creeping up her neck.

“Surprise,” I let out a half-smile. “Dom had to go somewhere else, and I was free.”

Fuck, how was I supposed to ignore how incredibly sexy she looked? I was only supposed to surprise her, yet it was she who surprised me. Elena wasn't supposed to make my mouth go dry just by standing there.

She smoothed her hands down her sides at last, having collected herself, and I watched as she bit her lower lip, a gesture of uncertainty that shouldn't have been as erotic as it was.

“Hm,” she said to her reflection, making no issue that I was here, thank the lords. “Maybe it's too much after all.”

“Depends on where you're planning to wear it,” I said, stepping inside wholly now. I let my gaze drift over her again, slowly, deliberately. “That's quite a dress.”

She lifted her chin, some of her usual defiance returning. “It's just a dress.”

“It's a statement,” I corrected. “And I'm curious what you're hoping to say with it.”

She hesitated, her eyes moving between me and her reflection in the mirror. “If you must know, I'm going out tonight.”

Something inside me tightened. “Out where?”

“Just... out. To a club.” She shrugged, the movement causing the neckline of the dress to shift slightly, revealing more of her cleavage. “I need to blow off some steam. Dance a little. Have a good time.”

The image of Elena in that dress, surrounded by men, dancing with her body pressed against some stranger, hit me like a physical blow. I had no right to feel this possessive, this jealous, but the emotion roared through me anyway, hot and true.

“You want to wear that to a club?” I barked, a little too aggressively.

She looked at me with surprise, and then shame. Immediately, I felt like a fool.

“It is too much for me, isn’t it?”

I hated that I allowed myself to convey the entirely wrong message.

The truth was that she in that dress only spelled trouble.

Elena couldn’t see it, could she? How sexy she looked, how mouthwatering.

I knew how the men at the clubs she visited thought.

They were the kind to think she was game dressed like that, the kind to lay their hands all over her at the sight of her.

But by the way I’d questioned her, I’d let her think the dress didn’t suit her. I attacked her confidence.

Needing to clarify, I strode up to and stood beside her as she pondered at the reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “You might be right.”

In that moment, I could have let her believe I was. I could have gotten what I wanted without ordering her not to wear that dress, something that would have caused a rift between us. And still, I couldn’t bring myself to let her think the same.

“It’s not that,” I said reluctantly. “The dress, you.” She turned her neck toward me, and I caught her hopeful gaze, her hazel eyes drowning me in their shade.

“I-?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

“You’re beautiful. That dress, it was made for you,” I whispered, in all honesty.

Time stood still, stretched, warped. I realized how close we stood, how luscious her lips were, how soft her skin looked.

“But—?” She whispered.

I took a step closer to her, close enough that I could smell her perfume, something so sweet and floral that it made me want to bury my face in her neck. “But that’s a dress designed for attention. Men will approach you. They'll try to buy you drinks, get you on the dance floor, take you home.”

“I know how clubs work, Gastone,” she said dryly. “I'm not exactly a sheltered virgin.”

That statement did nothing to cool my blood. In fact, it only made me wonder who she'd been with before, how many men had touched her, had made her moan.

“The clubs in this neighborhood can get rough,” I continued, trying to focus. “You shouldn't go alone.”

“I'm a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“Like you handled yourself when you managed to get yourself kidnapped the last time you went to a club?” I was being an asshole, and I knew it, but I couldn't help myself. The thought of her in danger—or worse, in another man's arms—was making me irrational.

Her eyes flashed with anger. “That was different. I wasn't prepared then.”

“And you're prepared now?” I moved even closer, invading her personal space. “In that dress, which will only invite trouble?”

“I think,” she said, her voice dropping to match mine, “that you're being ridiculous. What do you care if I go to a club? What do you care if someone hits on me?”

I didn't have a good answer for that. At least, not one I was willing to admit.

“You're my wife,” I said finally, the words coming out rougher than I intended. “Legally, on paper, you belong to me.”

I didn’t know where that came from, and I regretted the words the minute they were out of my mouth. What the hell did I just do, laying my claim on her like that?

As I expected, she exploded. She stepped even closer, until her body was flush against mine, and glared up at me, jamming a finger in my chest. “Oh yeah? I belong to you? What exactly are you afraid of, Gastone? That someone else might touch what you've claimed? Or that I might enjoy it?”

Something inside me snapped at her words. I caught her wrist before she could jab me again and pulled her closer, my free hand moving to the small of her back, feeling the bare skin exposed by the low cut of the dress. Her skin was warm, soft, and I had to fight the urge to slide my hand lower.

“You have no idea what I’m afraid of,” I growled.

She gasped, her pupils dilating as she stared up at me. “Then tell me.”

“The world out there, Elena, is cruel. A woman like you can find yourself in all kinds of trouble.” I lowered my voice, unable to keep the hoarseness from it.

“I can sense trouble for myself when I see it,” she whispered, unable to keep the quake from hers. “You have no right to tell me where I can go. Who I can see. What I do with my time.”

“Trouble could be staring you right in your face,” I hissed. “And you won’t know it.”

I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but her eyes widened at the innuendo.

The energy between us shifted, the air growing thick with tension.

I was suddenly acutely aware of every point where our bodies touched—my hand on her back, her wrist in my grasp, her chest nearly brushing against mine with each breath.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and my gaze locked onto the movement. “Maybe I like a little trouble.”

God, she was killing me. I released her wrist and brought my hand up to cup her face, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. She didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into my touch, her lips parting slightly.

I knew I should back off. This wasn't part of the plan. One wrong move and everything could change.

But as I stood there, feeling her warm breath against my skin, seeing the want in her eyes, I couldn't remember why fighting this attraction was so important.

I leaned in, slowly, giving her time to pull away. She didn't. Her eyes fluttered closed, and I felt her breath hitch as my lips hovered just above hers.

The moment hung suspended between us, fragile as glass. One more inch and I'd be kissing her, tasting her, crossing a line we couldn't uncross.

“Sir?” A voice called from the hallway, breaking the spell. “Mrs. Ajello? Can I get you anything else to try on?”

Elena jerked back as if burned, her eyes wide and startled. I dropped my hand from her face, stepping back to put some much-needed distance between us.

“No, thank you,” she called, her voice slightly strained. “I think I've seen enough for today.”

The sales associate's footsteps retreated, leaving us alone again, but the moment was gone. Elena turned away from me, busying herself with straightening the dress.

“I think I will. I'm still going tonight,” she said after a moment, her voice steadier now. “With or without your approval.”

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to regain my composure. “Fine. Go. But I’m coming with you.”

She turned back to face me, her expression guarded. “I don't need a babysitter.”

“I’m not a babysitter,” I growled. “You think you’re the only one who needs a night to let loose?”

She huffed and shook her head. “Fine,” she said, though I saw the annoyance in her eyes.

“Fine,” I said, turning to walk away. Without looking back, I added, “You should get that dress.”