Page 33 of The Brutal Arrangement (The Ivanov Syndicate #2)

LUCY

A week after Damon came “home” to me and told me that he wanted to try to make our marriage last, he surprised me with an out-of-the-blue laugh.

“What?” I asked, looking up from where I rested my cheek on his tatted chest. This was by far my favorite position to sleep, cradled against his side, in the nook of his arm wrapped around me.

“I just realized we’ve been married for over a month now.”

I smiled slowly, marveling at the fact that we’d not only been married for a month but that we were also getting acclimated to each other.

Over the course of the last seven days, it seemed like we were having our honeymoon period.

If we weren’t kissing and having sex—with and without his kinks for bondage and choking me—we were talking. While it would take a lot more time and much effort to get to what would be considered normal for other people, I was confident we were making strides.

“It doesn’t seem like it,” I replied.

“Not really.” He smirked, rolling me onto my back and kissing a slow, lazy path down my neck as he tried to distract me from thinking at all and just feeling him fuck me hard.

Later, though, in the shower when he grumbled about having to go to deal with work, I recalled the wonder in his tone that we’d made it to a month. Damon would never be quick to share his feelings or talk about them, but as we learned more about each other, I saw how much hope there was between us.

He’d told me that Maxim recorded that lunch conversation I’d had with him and Sloane.

I was quick to be annoyed that he’d recorded me, but I liked that Damon hadn’t listened to it until after we made up.

He hadn’t tried to patch our rocky start of marriage because of what I’d told his brother, who I now knew was the de-facto leader of the Ivanov Syndicate.

He’d wanted to reconcile with me because he missed me and wanted me.

We’d held other long conversations too. I told him about what it was like to lose my father, then my mother’s diagnosis.

He gave me a rundown of how his father had been poisoned recently.

I was open about my experiences of being a maid and feeling like a nobody who’d never catch up with bills to the point I could ever feel like I was actually living my life.

And he shared more about his life as a Mafia man.

While details would never be expected or wanted, I appreciated and respected that he was no longer shoving me into the category of an outsider. He didn’t act like I was a suspect. I wasn’t viewed as a threat or potential spy. And that was good enough.

Did I really want to know about his methods of torture? Fuck no.

Did I care to be informed about the illegal and shady things his family did to be this rich? I’d rather not.

All I knew was that this husband of mine was fierce out of nothing but duty.

He’d chuckled, amused and not offended, when I told him that I’d overheard Kozlov men referring to him as Demon because he was so deadly of an enforcer and mastermind of torture.

But I realized why he was that way. He fought hard to keep his family safe.

When it came to a matter of kill or be killed, he was an expert of coming out on top.

A glance at the clock showed me that I ran the risk of being late to meet up with Sloane.

Even though this past week had seemed like a marathon of sex and endless time of learning how to be a happily married woman, my future sister-in-law began texting me.

It wasn’t so hard to view her as a potential friend.

My reservations about trusting someone to be a friend lingered since my experience with Katerina, but I trusted Damon that Sloane would be loyal, not only to the Ivanov family, but also to me.

Feeling overwhelmed with all the baby item options to buy for the nursery, she asked me to hang out with her and pick some more things. Maxim had given her a blank check, of course, and he told her that he wouldn’t stress her out by challenging anything she chose for their baby.

When I got to their floor and found her in the empty room that would be finalized as their daughter or son’s room, I furrowed my brow. She sat on the floor, hunching over with her hand on her stomach.

“Sloane!”

I ran toward her, worried something was wrong.

“Are you hurt? What’s going on?—”

She held her hand out, shaking her head and almost laughing. Still cringing, she didn’t appear in full pain.

“Oh, my God, you’re just as bad as Maxim. Relax.”

I sat next to her, still alarmed.

“It’s just gas!” She shook her head.

“Sorry.” I smiled. “I, uh, have zero experience with pregnant women. You looked like you were in pain.”

She smiled. “No. I mean, gas is gas, and that’s never comfortable. But when things are shifted in there” —she indicated her stomach— “it’s bound to feel funky sometimes.”

Footsteps pounded from the hallway and Maxim ran into the room, a guard behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, my God!” Sloane laughed again as she tossed a stuffed teddy bear at him. “Nothing!”

“Lucy, what’s going on?” He frowned at me.

“Hey!” Sloane said, not giving me a chance. “ I just told you nothing is wrong. You won’t listen to me ?”

“You try to downplay things,” he scolded.

She sighed. “I just know my body and what is likely to be a worry or not.”

“Lucy?” Maxim asked.

I shook my head. “Just gas pains,” I said, sticking with her story.

He rolled his eyes. “I told you those vegetarian tacos wouldn’t feel so great later.”

I tried not to laugh.

Once he was gone, she leaned toward me. “He’s wrong. Those tacos were delicious and I regret nothing.”

I waved the air. “Maybe follow it with a mint next time.”

She cracked up, grinning, and just seeing her funny and not offended by my blunt remark warmed my heart. I didn’t want to be so nervous about making and keeping a friend, but Sloane seemed all right.

We went through the catalogues and then browsed on her laptop, too. Time passed, and I didn’t care how long we went over the numerous baby websites.

“Have you ever thought about having a baby?”

I laughed. “Um, is that even a relevant point?”

She frowned at me.

“I know you know that I know Damon expects to knock me up.”

She blinked. “Uh…”

“Women marry into this family to give them heirs.”

She winced. “Well, I know that was Maxim’s big issue.” She shrugged. “You and Damon were a little different.”

“A little different? I swapped with the bride he was supposed to get.”

“That’s true.”

“But to answer your question, of course.” I cleared my throat, feeling almost shy about this.

“I’ve always looked forward to starting a family.

With my dad gone, I was so sad that I was all my mom had.

I had these dreams of marrying and giving her at least five grandkids.

And maybe she’d meet someone and remarry.

” I sighed. “When she got her diagnosis, that dream sort of fell apart.”

“I’d say it completely fell apart,” she remarked dryly, with sadness lacing her words.

“Yeah. But my dream of being a mother never died out. I just didn’t have the time to think about my future.” I’d been too busy making money to focus on hers.

“But now?”

I smiled. “But now I’m married.” It still gave me such a jolt of joy to think that and not cringe now. My life was so different with Damon and me together and in sync.

“I can’t wait for you to be pregnant too. We can commiserate!”

I laughed. “Well, as much as we’re practicing, it shouldn’t be long.”

“Girl, you’ve got to be sore!”

Just like that, we fell into a comical version of girl talk rather than discussing this nursery. It felt so good to have her to talk to, and I lowered my guard more and more.

It wasn’t just a girly chat, either. She shared more about how she’d come to be in the family, and she helped me understand more about what it was like to be in this building.

“It’s not an easy life,” she summed up once we got up and stretched from sitting in the unfurnished room.

“I can tell,” I joked.

“And this business with Nik being gone has everyone on edge.”

I nodded, leaving the room with her. Damon talked about his missing twin with me a couple of days ago.

As soon as he said they were looking for him, I had this silly, stupid, intrusive thought that I’d heard that line before.

That someone was looking for something. After the fact, I realized that was why Maxim had questioned me whether Katerina was looking for some thing or some one .

“Damon is worried about him,” I admitted. “And I wish he weren’t so nervous about something bad happening.”

Sloane nodded. “I think Maxim is worried, too, but he’s putting on a brave face.”

“Do you think Nik is staying hidden?” I asked her, desperate to hear her agree with what the other Ivanov brothers assumed.

She shrugged but ended up nodding. “Maybe. I didn’t have long to get to know Nik, but I can see it. He’s their spy guy.”

“Maxim is the boss.”

“For now,” she corrected. “Since Grigory is recovering.”

“And Damon is…” I glanced at her, not wanting to say it.

“Yes, he is,” she replied, also not fond of vocalizing that my husband was the one who headed up torture and enforcement.

“Nik is the spy,” I continued.

She nodded again.

“And what is Saul again?” I caught myself and shook my head. “Sorry. I’m not being nosy or prying or?—”

“Chill, Lucy. I know you’re not a spy.”

I exhaled a breath of relief. Some habits died hard. “I’m just trying to remember who’s who and what’s what.”

“It’s a lot, and this organization is much bigger than what’s in this one building.

I’m not even going to try to remember it all.

Maxim can tell me what I need to know. But Saul is sort of like the backup brother, I guess.

He doesn’t seem to care where his responsibilities are—so long as he’s free to be the player he is. ” She rolled her eyes.

“It always seems so complex. This is a family but then a business too.”

She put her arm around my shoulders. “Yeah, it is. But I’m glad you’re here now too. Don’t get me wrong, Anastasia is…” She scrunched up her face. “Well, I’m sure she’s all right. I’m not close to her.”

“Yet?”

“Let’s just say she doesn’t seem to approve of me.” She didn’t seem bothered about it. “And that’s fine. Maxim does. I care about that no matter how difficult it is to be with him and in this family.”

I nodded. I had taken a similar attitude with Damon.

“Because we love our men,” Sloane said with a contented sigh. “And that’s what truly counts the most.”

Letting my lips lift in a slow smile, I realized how right she was.

I couldn’t speak for her and how she felt about Maxim, but I saw how well they got along.

What warmed my soul was how seamless of a shift it was for me to accept that her comment was accurate for me. For me and Damon.

I did love him.

I loved how he made it his personal mission to make me come and pleasure me so thoroughly, only he could gift me the freedom of submission.

I loved how he stayed true to himself and owned up to his flaws and obstacles in trying to make us work.

And I loved how, deep down, past the darkness and tendency to violence, he was a softie, wanting to provide for me and manage my mother’s expenses and complicated health care.

I love him.

My smile widened, and I saw no reason to hide how happy I was as I left Sloane and rode the elevator back up to my home with Damon.

I love him.

I was embracing this journey we were taking together. Regardless of our rocky and iffy start, our marriage was proving to be a blessing in disguise. Somewhere along the way, I’d lowered the walls around my heart for him to sneak in.

I loved my husband.

But I could only wonder how he’d react to that news if I were to tell him this soon.

Damon was learning how to be in a real relationship with me.

Talking about feelings made him vulnerable.

I acknowledged that, but I really, truly hoped that telling him that I loved him would be taken as good news and not something that would scare him off after the progress we’d made so far.