Page 37 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

Christmas

Mia

“All these boxes go in the closet, please.” With a muted thud, the movers placed the boxes of my clothes and shoes in the biggest walk-in closet I’d ever laid my eyes on.

The morning sun graced my new bedroom with a blinding light while I walked around and wondered what to do with all this space now.

When I first showed this apartment to Kirill, I had no inkling that I would ever step foot here again, and yet, here I was, thinking about how to furnish what became my home as well.

The move-in date marked the beginning of a new life for me. Although, if I was honest, my new life began right in this apartment on that stuffy August afternoon when I laid my eyes on him. He fell into my world and turned it all upside down.

Me . Mia, the girl who was cautious, careful, hard to please and conquer, moved in with a man she fell in love with within a few weeks. Kirill’s attention, passion, love, obsession, and fire for me plunged me into a blissful state of mind. I had never felt this way before.

Slowly, but also all at once, nothing seemed important in life anymore, only me and him, together. Had I ever been this happy in life? Never. I was so in love; I saw the world in only pink colors.

I loved every second of living with him.

I never wanted to live with anyone before.

I loved my independence and couldn’t imagine sharing a space, my bedroom, with anyone.

But now, it was the complete opposite. Seeing his things around our home gave me genuine feelings of happiness.

I looked forward to him jumping into the shower with me in the morning, and I took pleasure and pride in cooking for him.

Simple daily things made me happy now, no longer annoyed or scared.

White stains of melted salt colored the streets as the freezing weather settled onto the city. The hard wind and occasional snow made it all feel downright miserable, but inside our home it was warm, cozy, and had an aura of sex, lust, and indulgence.

The life I lived now was so far from what I was used to. Although I was never poor and the money I earned afforded me a more than comfortable lifestyle, living with Kirill was on another level. I liked the finer things in life, but Kirill…Kirill liked the best things in life.

He showered me with gifts, both large and small, but besides the materialistic things he provided, he also gave me something money couldn’t buy: all his attention, all his care. Spending time together, just us, no distractions, no phones, was a priority for him.

A few weeks before Christmas, we were cozied up together on the couch, making plans for the future. I’d never been with a man who placed such importance and emphasis on spending uninterrupted time together.

“What would you like to do for Christmas? Do you want to go somewhere? Paris, London, Shanghai, Namibia?” His green eyes sparkled at me in the dim lights of the living room while he played with a lock of my hair.

The ease with which he offered all those trips never ceased to surprise me.

He could get anything done, take me anywhere, and give me everything.

And yet, I only wanted slow and private moments with him.

“Well.” I swallowed, nerves pulsating through me.

“My dad is expecting me. Us , actually.” I corrected myself.

“He wants to meet you. You’ll come, right?

” I glanced at him, the hope in my eyes bright and obvious.

I had no doubt he would be there, but I was more hopeful that by some miracle, I wouldn’t have to continue lying to my dad about who he really was. That was not in the cards, though.

“Of course, baby, I’d love to, you know that.”

“There’s the obvious problem, though.” I cleared my throat again. “He’s definitely going to ask what you do for a living, and I feel like telling him the full exten–”

“You can tell him whatever you feel comfortable with, baby. I’ll play along with whatever you decide,” Kirill reassured me.

At almost thirty, lying to my dad was new to me.

I’d always kept an honest relationship with him, never hiding any big or small life decision.

But now, there was no way I could reveal that I lived under the same roof with a man who ruled the Russian Mafia.

My dad would probably have a heart attack. Not probably—definitely.

I kept it a secret—from everyone, including Viv. Although I was almost certain that by now, she had put it all together.

Without a second thought, I climbed onto Kirill’s lap, and his soft and smiling lips landed on mine instantly.

“Couldn’t you have been like a–” I tried to make a sentence in between sticking my tongue in his mouth and feeling his strong hands on my ass. “A boring doctor or something?” He chuckled with his eyes closed while his fingers masterfully unwrapped my silk robe.

“No, Sunshine. That’s too safe. You only like to be fucked by a killer, don’t you?

” Oh, sweet Jesus, his words were so rough and dirty, but they did something menacing to me.

He was one hundred percent correct. Nothing I’d felt before compared to the adrenaline rush of being with him—it was a mix of danger, lust, and excitement that left me feeling high.

And so, on Christmas Day, we headed to my childhood home.

“Sweetie pie!” My dad’s excited voice greeted us as soon as he swung the door open.

“Hi, Daddy!” It was so good to be back home.

My father and I would go for lunch together every few weeks, and I’d visit often, but the last few months, it all fell by the wayside.

“Dad, this is my boyfriend.” I turned to Kirill at the first opportunity and saw the most pleasant and courteous smile on his face.

“It’s great to meet you, Mr. Tanner. Thank you for inviting me into your home for Christmas.” Kirill’s slightly Russian accent seemed to completely vanish during the introduction.

Kirill was more than a perfect guest. Like a chameleon, he took on a more American personality.

His jokes and quips hit the jackpot with my father, and he made it all look effortless.

Goddamn, this man could do nothing wrong.

He was charming, courteous, funny at the right times, and a perfect human being.

“Here, let me.” Kirill picked up the bottle of wine and opened it like a professional sommelier, sending me a quick wink and smile.

Hours passed over delicious food and easy conversation with my father and stepmom. Right in the middle of it, my father threw out the question that I knew was coming, “So, what do you do, Cyril?” Oh right, I also lied to my father about Kirill’s real name, just in case.

“I’m in private equity.” Kirill’s response was so polite and upbeat. “I finance various projects throughout the city and the state. Pretty regular, boring stuff.” I ate up all his lies with amusement. It all just rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Commercial and residential projects, mostly. Large-scale buildings with many units.” Kirill was a skilled actor, fully committed to the role. He bit into a green bean with a serious face, and I stifled a laugh.

“Oh.” My father nodded in approval. “Maybe you know my stepson Jeremy? He’s a real estate developer.”

“I do know him, actually. But I met him independently of Mia.” Of course, Kirill needed no introduction to me.

Little did my father know that the same man he had shaken hands with, the one who sat across from him making polite conversation, was the same man who had me on my knees every night, begging for more. My silly giggles burst out of me at that thought, unable to hide my happiness.

“You going to show me your room after?” Kirill’s eyes lit up as I passed him a cup of coffee after dinner.

“If you continue being a good boy, maybe.” My quiet flirtation was only for his ears. The evening dragged on with light chatter over drinks and coffee, and when the neighbors knocked, I slightly regretted not agreeing to spend Christmas in Paris.

The conversation was polite but hollow, and I wondered if great dick could change your life. A ridiculous thought. Not the sex, of course; that was just a bonus, but Kirill’s presence in my life had undeniably shifted my outlook.

Before, I would have smiled and nodded through the small talk, playing the role expected of me.

Now, I didn’t want to pretend. This useless chatter was irritating and suffocating.

And while it had always been artificial, now I wasn’t afraid of wanting something else.

To make reality fit my needs and preferences.

"What’s that large chain you have there, Cyril?

" My dad squinted and looked at Kirill’s oversized gold chain that slightly peeked out of his shirt.

Kirill took out his Orthodox cross, and my dad assessed it.

"What a beautiful piece of jewelry! Mia was also baptized in a Russian Orthodox Church.

" Kirill whirled around to look at me, his eyes wide and just as stunned as mine.

"What are you talking about? I was baptized at the Holy Cross church where Mom used to sing." I retorted, fully confused at my dad’s words and smile.

"No, it's now the Holy Cross Catholic Church, but it used to be a Russian Orthodox Church when your mom sang there. The Russian church moved, and this one moved in. You didn't know you were baptized in an Orthodox Church, sweetheart?" He looked at me so innocently.

I wasn’t prepared for the revelation and wondered how my dad forgot to mention this important detail!

My mom passed away from childbirth complications a week after I was born—that’s what he had told me.

He also mentioned that she wanted to have me baptized as soon as possible, that she felt something was wrong, but he left out the Orthodox part.

This was divine intervention; I was sure of it. I was Orthodox, just like Kirill, and religion had such an important place in his life.