Page 4 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

Reacquaintance

Kirill

The large clock hand was inching closer to ten in the morning as I waited inside Mia’s office. I’d thought it would be locked, but no, evidently, she was trusting enough to leave it unlocked and be certain no one would snoop.

But I would. I was snooping.

The stately mahogany desk was overflowing with files, pens, a notebook with her initials, and, curiously, a matryoshka . Colored in an ornate blue design, the Russian dolls were stacked, and I felt such pride inside me. Not sure why, just at the fact that she had one. A piece of my culture.

The large wall opposite the glass doors contained a few modern art pieces and two Top 30 Under 30 titles. My little worker bee. There was also a little sitting area, the furniture beige and impersonal, clearly set up for client conversations. Perfect, we would sit there.

The door opened, and Mia stopped in her tracks as soon as she noticed me behind her desk. She said nothing, I remained silent, and we both didn’t move. Her hazel eyes shone in the morning light, her mind working overtime to process my intrusion into her space.

“Hello,” she finally found her voice. “I thought we said eleven, but also, how did you even get in?” The naiveté in her voice was fitting.

Mia was tall, her body curvy in all the right places, but that wasn’t what drew me to her.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul.

Well, her soul sucked me in like quicksand.

It was kind, full of wonder, yet defiant, the same as almost a decade ago when I first saw her.

Her smile was burned into my memory, casting a light on my otherwise dark and barren world.

“Good morning, Mia. I apologize; I have an unexpected meeting that popped up, but I didn’t want to miss seeing you.” That was all a lie. I had no meeting. I had cleared my schedule. I was up at five in the morning as usual, and I was counting down the minutes.

“Oh.” Her smile was shy. I hadn’t seen that part of her yet. “Please, sit down then.” She kept her eyes on mine and motioned toward the sitting area. “Would you like a coffee or tea?”

Mia was just as beautiful as I remembered her. A goddess among mortals. A goddess in front of the devil himself.

Her long hair fell effortlessly around her shoulders, and I wondered what it would feel like in my hand. The innocence in her eyes made me want to see the world like that too. Her skin was radiant, her plump lips a cherry red color—begging for my touch.

“So, Kirill, nice to meet you again.” Mia cleared her throat, a slight crease between her eyebrows now a familiar feature. She was conflicted; that much was obvious. Our meeting was unusual, and I was pretty sure no one else could have usurped her time the way I did.

But I had waited a long while to see her; I had no more patience. I also had no intention of telling her who I was right away. No. We’d play a game. I’d make the rules, and she would easily lose.

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself and what you’re looking for?”

You. I have been looking for you for so long, Mia—for my entire life .

Our kiss, that silly little drunk thing she did, rendered me powerless. Me. The goddamn Tsar of the Russian Mafia. And I was the Tsar; that wasn’t up for debate. I ruled it all. And yet, a blonde American woman held my mind and soul in her dainty, manicured fingers and didn’t even know it.

Seeing her again made me just as helpless as that first time. That passion, her energy, her taste, and her scent lingered on my lips, and the memory of our kiss kept me alive in my darkest and most difficult moments.

Sunshine. I called her sunshine because she was. She was the sunshine in my darkness. She was spring water in the desert. She was a summer breeze in a tomb.

“I’m looking for a place to call home. I like the apartment you have listed. What do you think? Do you like it?” I was mostly interested to know if she liked it. It checked all my boxes, but what about her?

We would live there together; I just hadn’t told her yet. Predictably, she didn’t know how to answer that question.

“I– well…why don’t you tell me if you like it, Kirill.” Her voice floated to my ears, and hearing her say my name was like being dipped in honey. Such a sweet girl, calling me by my first name. It was a start. I couldn’t wait to hear her moan my name too.

"Do you speak Russian? You said my name so well," I teased, knowing perfectly well her experience with my language and country.

"I don't speak it anymore, unfortunately," she responded kindly.

"My mom was Russian, and I studied the language about ten years ago, but I have no practice.” But we will change all that, Mia.

“I can still pronounce it well, of course.

Are you Russian?" Such pure wonder and curiosity sparkled in her eyes.

"Yes." But she had figured that out by now.

A sudden silence fell between us. Mia was blindsided by my sudden appearance in her life and very obviously lost for words.

“Anyway,” I continued. “If not that unit, maybe another one? My budget is thirty million to whatever. I just want a place I like, and I want to move in as soon as possible. All cash."

The seconds ticked while Mia sat there bewildered, trying to figure out if I was pranking her.

"Okay...those are extremely tight deadlines, Kirill. Do you have any wiggle room with your move-in date? Also, that's a huge sum of money to pay all cash. You’ll have to sign off on legal papers with our office about the source of the money," she responded coldly and professionally.

Ugh. America. Everyone needed to know where my money came from.

"The source of my money doesn't concern anyone here.

I come from Russia; I have business there, and it does well.

I want to spend it on real estate, end of story.

" Annoyance brewed inside me for the millionth time this year.

Nobody asked private questions like that back home.

I caught myself right in time. “But yes, I can move a little later. I just want a place soon."

While Mia contemplated how to move forward, I waited patiently and hungrily took in the sight of her.

Nine years. That’s nine winters and nine summers spent without her. I missed nine of her birthdays. But it took time to get here.

"Alright, I understand. Let me check my schedule, and then I can send a few comparable properties to what you liked.” I noticed she placed her palms on her thighs, as if trying to ground herself.

“Your schedule has been cleared. Let’s go see some properties tomorrow evening.”

Another pause—another surprise about to shatter her expectations.

“I’m sorry?”

"Your manager…Mark? We agreed this morning that you would give up all your clients for now.

I want someone dedicated just to me." It was so satisfying to watch her expression become uncertain with every passing second.

I enjoyed it, a bit too mu ch perhaps. She was losing control of this transaction, and that understanding was slowly seeping in.

"Ex– excuse me?” Her voice was sharp. It was clear she was trying to keep it professional.

“You had a chance to speak with my boss regarding my clients, and what?

I don't even understand how that's possible!

" She threw her hands up momentarily, exasperated and furious.

She stared through me, demanding an answer, and I loved it.

I loved watching her realize that she was completely at my mercy.

"Mia...I make what I want possible. No big deal.

Your clients will be moved to another broker for the time being, and Mark agreed that it would be best if one of his brokers was dedicated just to me because of my situation.

" Mark seemed like a fucking slimeball, the way he folded within a few minutes.

I barely had to ask; he almost proposed it himself, throwing one of his top agents into the arms of an unknown and foreign client just to get the commission.

"I'm sorry, what's the situation, exactly?

Something else I'm clearly unaware of." Mia crossed her arms and waited for a coherent answer.

She was so close that it was the hardest thing in the world to remain sitting so far away from her, but I sat up and leaned on my knees, basking in all her anger, which she hid so well.

"You see, my government doesn’t like that I invest outside Russia.

They want me back. But I'm not a criminal!

" I lied with innocent eyes. "And I don't want to or have to obey, and so I come here, where they can't ask for me back, but they try in other ways.

I need someone I can trust." That was all total bullshit; my government had nothing against me.

On the contrary, a good number of government officials were on my payroll.

The story seemed plausible though. Mia contemplated my words and her gaze wandered, quickly darting away from my lap.

I could see it now, her sitting on my knees, her arms around my neck, her body and soul mine for the taking, mine to own.

It was just us; her office was private, tucked away in a corner. What was stopping me from restarting where we left off almost a decade ago? Nothing. There was nothing in my way now. I had overcome all the obstacles.

My patience was wearing thin. It was holding on by a thread, and she was finally, finally within arm’s reach. Fuck, I wanted her. I wanted her so badly. No one would stop me from having my way with her right here and now.

Mia sat silently as she considered the situation I placed her in, but my mind was working overtime.

I saw it in my head, felt the soft skin of her cheeks graze against my fingertips, just like that one and only time.

I would lean in and steal it—steal that long-awaited kiss.

Oh fuck, I would take everything from her.

I would crash my lips with hers and devour her until we were both out of breath.

Then, in my mind, I saw her bent over that mahogany desk, her skirt raised while I laid my eyes on what I so long desired.

Her body riveted my imagination for almost a decade, and I would finally take what I wanted.

Yes, I would whisper in her ear and tell her how many times I’d dreamt about this: me fucking her senseless, her belonging to me.

So fucking beautiful, so mine. She wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, and I longed to run my hand up and in between her thighs—my fingers just barely grazing her panties, savoring the moment before I felt how wet she was for me.

My eyes were on Mia’s face, but I imagined plunging into her sweet pussy, pressing her into the desk, fucking her raw, and watching her eyes roll into the back of her head.

I would thrust in, her body shuddering beneath me, a sweet moan escaping her lips. I would tell her to be quiet, that she was a nasty girl for moaning so loudly with so many people around. I imagined her hair in my hand. Imagined pulling it back, all of her belonging to me.

She was mine; I would do what I wanted. I would squeeze her delicious ass cheeks and watch my dick slide in and out, just like I’d dreamt about for years. I could do it now, this second. I wanted it. And I always got what I wanted.

The taste of her lips, the smell of her hair, my tongue in her mouth. Ambrosia.

“Kirill?” Somewhere far away, a sweet voice called my name, and I refocused my eyes on the angel in front of me.

Dear Lord, I had to put my hands in front of my crotch to hide my damn hard on.

She repeated my name, and it suddenly became the most delightful sound.

I never wanted another woman to pronounce it again, only her.

What in the actual fuck was wrong with me? That feeling returned, like I didn’t know what to do, like I was lost, just like the first time I saw her—powerless.

I didn’t like that. My position was clear: I held all the power. I was at the top: all the Russian Bratva answered to me, for fuck’s sake. Men all over the largest country in the world bowed down to me . I was always in control, and everyone knew their place. Everyone was beneath me.

Except her.

After my uncontrollable foray into the dirty fantasy, guilt burned my conscience for thinking that way about her. I never wanted to use her like all the other women I’d been with. For the first time ever…I didn’t want submission.

I longed to get to know her and find out what she liked. I wanted to please her, not just take what I wanted. Yes, I wanted to serve her; I wanted to make her feel good both in bed and in life.

My head spun with all my conflicting emotions. Perhaps this game that I’d started…wouldn’t be as straightforward as I’d planned.