Page 10 of Unwritten Vows

Derrick

I get up early the next day. I have a busy schedule, so I’m surprised Liza pops into my head right away.

I relive last night in my head as I step into the shower, and I’m hard in no time at all.

Why didn’t I have her take care of this last night?

My erection is raging in my pants now as the tempting, untouchable thought of her pulls at my memory.

I grab my thick, hard cock in my hand, pretending that I’m guiding her own towards it.

I imagine her dainty, unpracticed fingers stroking me, and feel a wave of excitement crash over me.

Taint her. Absolutely destroy her. I want to ruin her for everyone else.

I want to slam that goody-two-shoes right against one of the many stripped cars I have to check on later today and make her scream my name.

And I can do it. No one would even question me. I’m Derrick Stepinov, after all. With that thought, I come hard, shooting ribbons of cum onto the smooth tile before moving on with my day.

I head out to see the guys at a few of the different operations we have around Boston. I put in facetime around here that my father and Divny don’t. All the men know me, and furthermore, they know I wish I could be one of them most of the time. Just a nameless soldier. I would love that.

I check The Garage, which is really just a nice name for my biggest chop shop, a few hours from the city.

We have a good relationship with Marco, the Italian Don in Connecticut, and he knows I have a few of these shops throughout his great state.

We have a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, but I’m pretty certain that he really just lets us use his land because he knows we have far more money and cops on our payroll than he does.

My father really should be here with me, especially since this is one of the chop shops that are out of state, but he keeps himself busy being the face of our legal businesses.

He doesn’t get the value of meeting with the guys who work for you and putting some elbow grease into the relationships to get them working harder for you.

As I speak to one of my men in the high-end section of The Garage, my father’s name lights up my phone. Speak of the devil . I sigh, as I do every time I see it. I don’t like anyone who tells me what to do, but he’s the only one I can’t get rid of. So I answer the phone.

“Stepinov.”

“We can’t use the same greeting, Derrick. I’ve told you to use ‘Stepinov Junior.’ If you’re really so opposed to that, just use your first name.”

He’s going to be difficult today; I can feel it. Best to say as few words as possible. I breathe out a sigh. “Okay, father.”

“Did you do well last night? Do you have her yet?”

He knows she’s trying not to like me, although he’s a little more confident in my skills to obtain a difficult woman than I am.

He says to use my charm to make her like me, or convince her of the benefits for both of us, and I can’t possibly go wrong.

But she’s a tough nut to crack. She’s too good for my usual tricks, and feels like one of those cute, sweet young women who want a man for what’s inside, or some shit like that.

That’s definitely a problem, because if she looks too deep, she’ll see how black and jaded my soul really is.

But I can’t say any of this to my father, so I shrug. “She let me do some interesting shit to her, so I’m pretty sure I’m getting there fast.”

“Good,” he says. “We need the name recognition, which means the union between you two needs to go public, and there needs to be a title. I don’t suppose she’s interested in marrying yet?

Especially not you. But I do think we might be able to persuade her father.

Maybe an engagement. He seems to like you for some reason. ”

Those critical words, delivered with such apathetic efficiency, still freeze my throat up and make it hard for me to speak.

My father has never, ever said a nice word to me.

The only time he’s ever even given me a congratulatory pat on the back was when I helped convince Maxim Whitney, head of Boston’s Bratva and tycoon of the north east, to let me date his bitchy daughter for a year.

She wasn’t as awful as she pretended she was, but the relationship itself was un-fucking-bearable.

“No, father. She’s 20 and I’m going to be 30 in a few months. Even if she was interested in marriage, which I’m sure she’s not, I can’t imagine we have much in common besides attractiveness.”

My father harrumphs. “Such a shame. It would take nothing at all, I think, to get Yaroslav on board. He seems like a monster, and I suppose he can be, but with that girl he’s just an overgrown teddy bear.

We spoke about grandkids and his eyes lit up.

But I suppose there are plenty of available mafia boys for him to choose from, and if she wants someone closer to her age, so be it.

As long as you can pin her down with an engagement for some length of time and get it out there. ”

I hold in my resigned sigh but decide that I need to get off the phone as soon as possible if I want to keep it inside where it belongs. “Okay. I will do my best, father. Is that—”

“You will not do your best, Derrick. You will do it. You will get that title for some time, and we will get what we want from it. Do you understand?”

I let the sigh go, consequences be damned. “Yes, father.”

“Derrick, I hope you’re taking this seriously.

We can’t be too careful at this time, with this likely impending war on the horizon.

You can just feel the tension between the New York City tycoons.

I want to be in and out before it begins, Derrick.

Wrap it up with the Andreeva girl as quickly as possible. ”

“I’m not sure we can be ‘out of it’ if I’m going to be in a relationship with this girl, father. How do you expect that?”

“You will date her for some time. But we don’t commit to anyone for anything less than a vow of marriage, do you understand me? We are staying out of this until we get the best deal possible.”

I want to argue. I want to tell my father that I don’t want a relationship with this pretty young girl to just be for greed.

Something inside shouts at me that she doesn’t deserve it.

Maybe her father does; after all, he is filled with greed and arrogance.

But I don’t feel that she is part of that.

I don’t feel like she should be punished for her father’s sins.

And with the way she’s been raised, all education and no experience, I don’t like the thought of taking advantage of her ignorance.

To live this life is to accept in my heart that everything is a game.

I’ve known this from a young age. It’s not supposed to be fun.

This life isn’t supposed to be rainbows and butterflies.

I’m supposed to do my job and take joy in the fact that I’ve amassed so much.

My father and I have a fortune that most human beings could never even dream of.

My heirs will be set for life. It’s all about survival of the fittest and moving our line forward with the best chance possible. That’s what I must do.

Eliza Andreeva is just a means to that end.