Page 17 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

I still felt the delicious ache between my thighs, still smelled Gastone on my skin. I just lay there for one blissful moment, my body humming with memories.

I blinked at the ceiling, felt my cheeks hurt from how hard I was smiling.

I walked through every memory. How furious he’d been when I was insulted, how precious he’d treated me when he saw I’d been shaken up.

How he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world, how fierce he kissed, how soft he touched, how hard he fucked.

Holy shit. I'd slept with Gastone Ajello. The man who kidnapped me. The man who could also make me come harder than anyone ever had.

Well, wasn't that just the cherry on top of this fucked-up sundae?

I pressed my face into his pillow and inhaled his scent, feeling like a complete idiot for doing so. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be spying on him, in hopes of finding leverage for my family. But here I was, sniffing his pillow like a lovesick teenager.

Last night... God, last night.

I realized I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to rip my dress off again. No matter how expensive. The tearing of my dress, his mouth everywhere, the way he'd filled me so completely I thought I might break apart. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling myself getting wet again just thinking about it.

He'd been gentle and rough in all the right places. He worshipped my curves. He made me feel like I never wanted last night to end.

But end it did, and now I was still lying in his bed. I sat up and stretched, wincing slightly at the pleasant soreness, before looking around the room.

The sheets beside me were cold, and I heard no sounds from the bathroom. He'd been gone a while.

Feeling more level-headed now, less dreamy, I wondered what the hell I was supposed to do next. I'd crossed a line I had sworn I never would. I was supposed to be playing along, gaining his trust so I could escape. Not falling into bed with him and definitely not enjoying it as much as I had.

But I couldn't deny the truth. It was the best sex I'd ever had. And not just because it had been a while. There was just something about Gastone. Something maddening, something confusing, something erratic, and something calming.

“Get it together, Elena,” I muttered to myself, pushing back the covers.

I glanced around for my clothes before remembering they were shreds on his floor.

Great.

I didn’t overthink it. I grabbed his discarded button-down shirt from the previous night and slipped it on. It hung to mid-thigh, and it worked for my purpose.

My face heated when I caught my reflection in his dresser mirror. There was a hickey blooming on my collarbone, and my hair was as messy as it could get. My lips looked kissed to numbness. I looked thoroughly fucked in the best possible way.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the door. Whatever happened next, I needed coffee first.

I stepped into the kitchen and paused at the threshold, suddenly nervous by what I saw.

Gastone had his broad back to me and was working over the stove, flipping something in a pan. His muscles, God, they rippled under the sleeveless tank top he had on. My fingers tingled with the memory of tracing that map of tattoos last night.

I stepped in, knowing I couldn’t avoid him, and he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes roved over me in his shirt.

“Morning,” he said, voice hoarser, sexier than usual. “Coffee's ready.”

Not “What the hell did we do?” Not “Let's pretend that never happened.” Just “Coffee's ready,” like we did this every day.

“Thanks,” I managed, walking to the counter to pour myself a cup. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking.”

“You cook?” I asked, with surprise.

He shrugged, turning back to the stove. “I was hungry. Figured you might be too.”

I sipped my coffee, watching him work. This was surreal. Domestic Gastone was not something I'd prepared for.

He began plating the eggs and toast and slid them over to me across the island. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

I took a seat on one of the barstools, my bare legs swinging. “Thanks.”

He fixed his own plate and leaned against the counter opposite me, eating standing up. His eyes never left mine as he took a bite of toast.

“Sleep well?” he asked, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

I nearly choked on my coffee. “Seriously? That's what you're going with?”

His smile widened. “Would you prefer I ask if you're sore?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “You're impossible.”

“And you're wearing my shirt,” he countered, taking another bite. His eyes traced over me, lingering where the fabric gaped open at the top. “It looks better on you.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “That's not saying much. Your fashion sense is questionable at best.”

He laughed. “Says the woman whose dress is in pieces on my bedroom floor.”

“Your fault entirely,” I pointed out, taking a bite of eggs. They were perfectly cooked, damn him. “I liked that dress.”

“I liked taking it off you more.” His voice dropped lower, and the air between us grew heavy with tension.

I swallowed hard. “What are we doing, Gastone?”

He set down his fork, his expression turning thoughtful. “Having breakfast.”

“You know what I mean.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Does it need a label right now? Can't we just... enjoy it?”

I wanted to argue, to demand we talk about what this meant for us, for the bizarre situation we found ourselves in. But his suggestion was tempting. No labels, no expectations, just enjoyment. It had been a long time since I'd allowed myself that kind of freedom.

Besides, I didn’t want to think about the alternative. The thought of doing so made my head hurt because I, too, didn’t know where I stood on last night.

“I guess so,” I conceded, returning to my breakfast. “What's on your agenda today?”

He seemed relieved at the change of subject. “Meetings all morning. Got a shipment coming in that needs my attention. Carlo's been handling most of it, but there are details I need to oversee personally.”

I forced myself to maintain a casual tone. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Gastone had cooked for me, and now he was discussing his work over breakfast like it was no big deal. It felt…surreal. Calm. Peaceful.

I liked it, and I didn’t want this conversation to end.

“Import-export, right?” I asked.

He grinned. “Exactly. All very legitimate business.”

“Of course,” I nodded, playing along, but didn’t ask more. I didn’t want to push him too much, didn’t want to pry and put him on edge. I simply wanted to enjoy this moment between us.

“What about you? Any big plans?”

I shrugged, letting him change the subject again. “I might check out that art store I passed yesterday. Been a while since I painted.”

“You like to paint?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Love it. Always have. My brothers used to tease me about it—Elena, thinking she’s the next Picasso.” I smiled at the memory. “But painting is a great escape when you grow up mostly indoors.”

“What do you paint?”

“Everything. Oils, watercolors, palettes. I'm not picky. Neither am I good,” I snorted at the end.

“Well, you don’t have to be good at everything. Sometimes, you just have to enjoy a little something on the side, don’t you think?”

I watched him with a smile. “You’re right,” I nodded. “And I’d forgotten how much I loved to paint. Until now. It’s a good time to pick it up.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” I explained. “I mean, when I graduated from college, I started working on the legitimate side of things. I worked so damn hard, harder than most in the office. I felt like I needed to prove something. But along the way, I lost track of my hobbies. That’s sad, isn’t it?”

“A little,” he nodded. “Hobbies feed the soul. I try to keep up with mine.”

I quirked my eyebrow in his direction.

“Try not to look so shocked,” he drawled. “I do have hobbies beyond terrorizing the Lebedevs.”

I laughed despite myself. “Good to know.”

He glanced at his watch and frowned. “I need to get going.” His eyes traveled over me again, lingering on my bare legs. “Though I'm tempted to call in sick.”

My body responded to his look, warming from the inside out. “Tempting,” I agreed, “but I do actually want to check out that store.”

He nodded, setting his plate in the sink. “Your loss,” he said with a wink that sent a shiver down my spine.

He returned a while later in a crisp suit that made him look utterly handsome. He stopped in front of me, hesitating for just a moment before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips.

It was quick, casual, like we'd done it a hundred times before. But it left me breathless.

“See you tonight,” he said against my lips.

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with my cooling coffee and very confused heart.

***

The next few days passed in a strange blur. Gastone would leave early for work, return late, and I’d find myself up at night, waiting to see if he had time for me. But he always came back exhausted. Usually gave me a quick kiss and claimed he’d eaten already.

I was disappointed each time.

I didn't know what had come over me. All I knew was that his touch was addictive, and I wasn't strong enough to keep away.

But since that night we spent together, something was happening with Gastone.

He was distracted. He'd come home with dark circles under his eyes, tense and tight-lipped about his day.

When I asked, he'd change the subject or distract me with his mouth until I forgot what I'd asked in the first place.

It was a very effective strategy, I had to admit.

But my curiosity was starting to gnaw at my nerves. Especially when I noticed the hushed phone calls, the way he'd step out of the room to speak in low tones, and the increased security around the building.

Something was up. And I wanted to know what it was.

“Dom,” I called, spotting the hulking bodyguard as he came to relieve the night guard one day. “Got a minute?”

He looked wary. “Mrs. Ajello.”

“Do you know what's been keeping Gastone so busy lately? He's been... distracted.”

Dom's face gave nothing away. “Mr. Ajello has many responsibilities.”

“Yeah, but something specific has him worked up. Is there trouble?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Mrs. Ajello,” he said firmly.

That only piqued my interest more. “Is it my family? Are they causing problems?”

A flicker of something crossed his face, but I couldn’t tell what it meant.

“I can't discuss Mr. Ajello's business,” he said stiffly.

“But it is about my family, isn't it?” I pressed.

Dom checked his watch and sighed. “For your peace of mind, it’s not them. Now, I really need to check the perimeter. Excuse me.”

He walked away before I could ask anything else. Whatever was going on didn’t involve my family, thank God. But it did involve Gastone, and I worried for him.

Whatever it was, I needed to know about it.

I spent the next day watching Dom more closely. He was distracted, often stepping out to take calls. I noticed him checking his watch repeatedly around noon, like he was waiting for something.

When he finally announced he needed to step out for a bit, I knew this was my chance.

“Take your time,” I said casually. “I'll be fine here.”

He hesitated. “Please, miss. Lock the doors. You… won’t have company for a while.”

I laughed lightly. “Dom, I'm not a child. I won't burn the place down in the hour you're gone. I promise I’ll stay inside, and you know I won’t run.”

He still seemed uncertain, but his phone buzzed again, and whatever he saw on the screen made up his mind. “I'll be back as soon as possible. Please stay inside,” he repeated.

“Of course,” I assured him with my most innocent smile.

The moment the door closed behind him, I sprang into action. I changed quickly into dark jeans and a black sweater, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail, and grabbed a cap and sunglasses. As a teenager, I used to sneak out from our family home all the time, and knew how to avoid being detected.

I waited two minutes to make sure Dom wouldn't come back for something forgotten, then slipped out of the apartment.

I pushed down the pang of guilt at what I was doing. This wasn't about betraying Gastone; this was about knowing what was happening so I could look out for him.

I took the stairs down, too eager to wait for the lift, afraid I’d lost sight of Dom.

Downstairs, I saw him enter a black SUV parked across the street.

I stayed in the shadows of the lobby, watching through the glass doors as he got in and the car pulled away.

Perfect.

I darted out, flagging down a taxi that had just dropped someone off, and asked him to follow.