Page 2 of Demetri
"I can't do this." I try to clear my head as I pick my dress up off the floor and quickly cover my body. Eric holds his hands out in front of himself in an attempt to mollify the situation that has taken an ugly turn.
"Alright." He's looking at me like he already regrets picking up the crazy chick in front of him. "Would you like me to take you home?"
I shake my head, unable to look the man in the face. Instead, I dart out of his bedroom with my shoes in hand. I'm on the verge of hyperventilating and in a full-on panic attack. I don't have it in me to care how humiliating this whole ordeal is.
I ignore Eric calling my name out behind me as I swing the front door open and make a mad dash down the steps of the stoop. My bare feet slap against the sidewalk as I walk in a hurry down the street. Keeping a steady pace, I glance over my shoulder to make sure Eric is not following me and relax when I see he hasn't. But what I do see is a black sedan driving at a snail's pace behind me. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I pick up speed while keeping an eye on the car. When I look back again, the car is still creeping along behind me.What the hell?I am officially creeped out. Thankfully a cab turns the corner down the street and heads in my direction. Breathing a sigh of relief, I step to the curb and flag it down.
An hour later, I'm back home in my pajamas and have gone through half a bottle of wine. I sit on my sofa alone in the dark with my thoughts running rampant. I don't know who I have become. Will I ever be able to overcome what happened to me? Can I get back the person I once was? And most importantly, can I get over the one person I think has the power to help heal the pain that is slowly suffocating me?
1
Demetri
The dull throb radiating from my temples is starting to become a full-fledged migraine. Pushing the laptop to the side, I reach for my glass of whiskey only to find it empty.
"Would you like another, Mr. Volkov?" Victor goes to stand from his seat on the opposite side of the plane.
Raising my hand, I stop him. "No, my friend, I'll be in my room. I don't want to be disturbed until it's time to land."
"Yes, sir."
Walking toward the back end of the plane, I slide the door open. Motion sensors activate a dim light above the head of the queen-size bed in front of me, basking the space in a warm glow. We have a few more hours ahead of us before landing, so I'm taking advantage of the alone time I have before reaching my homeland. Shrugging off my suit jacket, I lay it across the back of the black, leather chair before loosening the tie around my neck, undoing it entirely and place it on the table by the small window along with my cufflinks, then roll up my sleeves. Emptying my pockets, I toss my phone, wallet, and money clip alongside the rest of my things and toe off my shoes before stretching out on the bed.
I want nothing more than to be back in Polson, in the comfort of my home but the call I received at 2:00 am this morning warranted a quick decision to make my presence known elsewhere. Rubbing my temples with my fingers, I try to release some of the tension in my head as replay the call from one of my associates. Apparently, the Petrov family is trying to overstep their bounds and have been encroaching on turf that they have no business being in. My territory to be precise. The Volkov's have been in control for over one hundred years; going all the way back to my great-grandfather who built our empire with respect, integrity, and a firm hand. One I once hoped to pass down to my youngest son Nikolai.
My other son, Logan wasn't brought up in the mafia life, and even though he has all the ability to quickly adapt to my specific lifestyle due to being raised in the MC, I know it's not for him and would never ask him to give up the life he has made for himself. Logan is right where he belongs amongst his brothers and his family. Nikolai, however, has been raised and groomed since the day he was born to one day take over the family businesses. And up until the past few years, I thought that would never be an issue.
The Petrov family and ours have had a mutual long-standing, blood binding agreement that we each keep out of one another's way, and that includes staying out of the pockets of the people I deal with. Vadim, the son of Yerik, has partially taken over as head of their small empire since his father has fallen too ill to run things on his own merit and isn't expected to make it another couple of months. Needless to say, Vadim is a hot-headed, power-hungry young man. It seems to me that someone might need a little reminder of who he is dealing with.
Closing my eyes, I let my thoughts drift elsewhere. To one particular person. A woman to be exact. Glory Keller — a friend of my oldest son, Logan's MC club, The Kings of Retribution. She is absolutely breathtaking, with dark auburn hair, icy green eyes, a body made for pleasure, and a mouth so full of sass I want to fill it full of my cock. There has been something about Gloryever since my eyes first fell upon her. I was in Polson, helping Logan and his club. The King's President Jake was trying to track down a man who had become a threat to his woman, Grace and his club. Glory took a beating by the man who the club was trying to hunt down — all to protect her best friend Grace. But her fire and her tenacious attitude kept her going. The fact that she had been through hell and pushed through it like it was nothing fascinated me. Glory unintentionally lit a spark I thought had been extinguished forever. Feelings I never thought I could feel for another woman started to flare up like wildfire and only grew stronger each time I got the chance to be near her. Obsession is not my thing. It's not who I am, but this woman has consumed me. I think about her night and day.
I keep tabs on her to satisfy my own irrational need to keep her safe. From the moment her eyes connected with mine, Glory had rewritten my future. I know it, and furthermore, she knows it. There is no denying the raw sexual pull we feel for one another. Oh, she fights it. Glory hides it with fire and venom, but she wants me just as much as I want her. Make no mistake; I will have her. She will be in my bed. I want nothing more than to leave my mark on her. My cock twitches with the mere thought of reddening her lusciously round ass. With those thoughts, I finally fall asleep.
I wakewhen I hear Victor call out my name. Cracking my eyes open, I notice him standing at the bedroom door. "Sir, we land in twenty minutes."
"Thank you, Victor." Sitting up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and run my hand through my hair. Standing, I gather my things and put myself back together before stepping into the main cabin and taking my seat.
"Sergei will be waiting on the tarmac as soon as we land to take you downtown," Victor tells me as he adjusts his black tie. Victor has been with me for many years. He is as loyal as they come, and I trust him with my life. My gaze shifts from the time on my watch to the airplane's window. It's mid-afternoon here in Russia. "I'd like to go home first. I have some things in the study I need before we make a trip to the city."
"I'll let the staff know."
It doesn't take long to drive from the small airport to my estate. Having to return to Russia has me in an ill-tempered mood and Sergei not showing at the airport like he was advised has added to my irritation. My son Nikolai has expressed his dislike for Sergei, and I will be the first to admit my feelings are becoming much the same. Placing my annoyance with Sergei aside, I take in the familiar sights of my hometown as we drive away from the airport. This is the place I grew up; the only home I have ever known. However, deciding to run things from the States for the past few months was the best decision I made at the time. I needed to form a stronger relationship with my firstborn son Logan and watch him and Nikolai form the brotherly bond they deserve. The Volkov's have owned this land for several generations. The ground is flat and lush with green grass, and the horizon lined with a dense tree line. On the backside of the property to the east runs a river which divides my property from the small town nearby. Maybe this is why I love the town of Polson, Montana so much, because it reminds me of home.
The house comes into view once we crest the hill. When I say 'house,' I use that term loosely. Manor would be a more accurate description. Volkov Manor was built in 1928 by my great-grandfather with almost 60,000 square feet of living space. It's extravagant, but it is my home, and I cherish it.
"Sir — sir."
Blinking away the fog of memories, I turn toward Victor as the car rolls to a stop and take in his expression as he tucks his phone inside his suit pocket.
"You have a visitor.She," he emphasizes, letting me know the 'she' in which he is referring to, "is in your study."
My blood starts to boil. "Who let her in?"
"Gordon," Victor informs. "He and Luca are keeping an eye on her." Gordon and Luca are two of my soldiers. I have warned my men not to allow my ex to come anywhere near my residence and they will be dealt with for disobeying my orders although Sergei should be on top of things in my absence. I'll be talking to him as well. Not waiting for someone to open the door, I fling it open and make my way up through the side entrance of my home shortening the distance between me and my study. She knows she isn't allowed on my property. "Where is Sergei?"
"At the office in the city waiting for you, sir," Victor informs just before my hand grasps the door handle shoving it open.
I pause a moment. "Tell him I'll be late." The door slams against the wall as I step into the room. Sitting in my chair, behind my desk is none other than my ex-wife Ivanna. "Get the fuck out of my home and off my property," I growl.
