Page 19 of Unholy Matrimony

I let go of his head, and he fell forward. Nikolai falls onto the floor and writhes there. I step over him and head towards Oleg and Ilya. “Gather the men,” I tell Oleg. Oleg lets out a shrill whistle. Our guys head over and once they are all gathered, I speak, “Get everything ready for the first drop. That will happen in three days. Sasha will handle all the paperwork. Just make sure the employees here go about business as usual. If anything seems out of place, call one of us,” I gesture to the twins and myself. They all nod and disperse.

“Let’s go meet the Pakhan and report, and get home,” I say. “I’ve got a dinner date with my Tsvetok6.” Oleg gives a little laugh. It's almost barely audible. “You know, Lenya, it's baffling seeing you so infatuated with someone. You used to fuck them and then never speak to them again. Never any dates or dinner…and now here you are sounding all domesticated and shit.” He throws his arm over my shoulders. I know Oleg gets it because he has Mila. They have been together since primary school. She has been his pillar of strength in life, and he would and has killed for her. I pat his back and we get into the car.

Pulling up to my father’s house, the tension is already blooming in my head. Oleg parks in front of the garage, and my motorcycle is sitting there. My black beauty was the only freedom from this place when I was stuck there. One day soon, I will take Lina on the back and show her what it feels like to be free.

We walk into the house, and you can hear Tchaikovsky playing in the great room. I enter first and find my father sitting in his favorite chair with a glass of vodka in hand. “You’ve come to report.” He slurs his words. He’s already intoxicated, and this is going to make for a shitty meeting. When he is drinking, he becomes incessant.

You can’t get him to shut up, and he will just drone on and on. Like the annoying drunk girls at bars and clubs, that will just chatter in your ear. I sit down on the couch and let the twins give the report. The sooner this is done, I can get home to Lina. I take my phone out to check the texts and see a few from her.

Lina: I found the perfect dress. We just dropped off my mother and sister, so now I am going to do my shopping. I hope your day is going well, Moy Lev7.

Lina: You know it's strange buying myself things. It feels nice though.

Lina: How much is an acceptable amount to spend on books? Do I have a limit?

Lina: DO NOT check the transaction history! I may have bankrupted you at the bookstore.

A smile spreads across my face.

This woman.

My woman.

I would buy her the world.

My smile fades when I see the texts from Pavel.

Pavel: Vasha Zhena8 just finished at the dress shop and she looks very troubled. I didn't hear what was said, but her mother seems to be the reason.

Pavel: Dropped her mother and sister off. She is crying in the backseat.

I hide my anger because I don’t want to start shit with my father. I put my phone back in my pocket and continued to listen to the twins. My father stands up, walks toward the bar, and reaches over to the vodka bottle. He pours himself another glass.

“Khorosho9, well, at least Sasha will be there to sort through all the bullshit.” He walks over to me and pats my shoulder. “Come, we need to talk.” Looking back over to the twins, “Father and son. Why don’t you two get something to eat from the kitchen?” They nod and look at me and I wave them off.

My father and I head toward his study, which is just off the great room. Once we are inside, he walks to the chair that is sitting in front of a roaring fire. He sits and motions for me to sit too. “I’d rather stand,” I say, already knowing where this conversation is going. “Can we make this quick? I need to get home.”

“Get home to your precious little virgin. Or is she no longer a virgin?” He seethes.

He downs the vodka in his glass and laughs. “How do you expect this to all work? You pick the most innocent, religious girl you can find and marry her into the Russian Mafia. You remember that if it doesn’t work out, you’ll have to kill her. Are you going to have the balls to do that?” Leaning forward, “No, you won’t? I’ll have to do it for you. Because you're pussy whipped and you’ve never even had her pussy.”

I move in front of the fire, crouch down, and warm up my hands.

“Father, you won’t do shit. Stop trying to make a show of yourself.”

“Ty malen'koye der’mo10. Did you forget who you're talking to? Are you going soft? Over her?.”

I rise and get in his face, “Zamolchi!11 Do you want to see how not soft I am, father? I’ll fucking slit your throat and then, while you're bleeding out, I’ll fuck my wife in front of you, savoring every last moment, because the last thing you’ll see is your son choosing her pussy over your life.” I spit on him and start walking towards the door.

“You’ve got some balls of steel, Leonid. I hope this woman doesn’t get you killed. You need to fucking remember your place.” I smirk at him and walk out. Slamming the door behind me. With my jacket and helmet, I stormed out of the house. I hop on the bike and fire it up. I turn on some music that is blasting in my helmet as I rev the engine and take off for home. [AMATORY] is blasting as I take the turns at 128kph. On a long straight stretch, I pull the bike up in a wheelie. Fuck, it feels liberating. I haven’t taken the bike out in forever.

Fucking 998cc of pure adrenaline.

The ride home should be forty-five minutes, but I make it there in twenty. As I pull up to the house, I rev the engine again, hoping Lina hears it. God answers my prayer. The front door swings open, and Moy Krasivyy Tsvetok12 is there. She is wearing a pair of black tight jeans and a fitted V-neck T-shirt. I look her body up and down. I have never seen her in anything but a long, flowy dress. Her curves are phenomenal. I pull my visor up and kill the engine. I hop off and walk towards her.

Turning the music off, I remove my helmet.

“You ride a motorcycle?” Her eyes drift from the bike to me as she takes me in. I grab her hand and pull her into the house. As she closed the door, I put my helmet down. I spin around and press her against the door. I trail my nose up her neck, and when my lips reach her ear, I whisper seductively, “Yes, does that turn you on?” She lets out a soft whimper as I nibble on her neck.

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