41
IVAN
Cora is a fucking angel.
She’s wearing a long floral sundress that Anya sent over for her. I’ve considered pulling the car over twice to fuck her absolutely silly before we even made it to the house.
Through sheer force of will alone, I made myself wait so we could do it in bed for once—except, as soon as we reach the porch, Yasha bursts through the front door to meet us.
“So good to see you again, Cora. Really. Glad you’re back.” Then he turns to me. “Good to see you, too, brother. But there’s something you should know before you go in there.”
Instinctively, I shift Cora behind me. “Tell me now.”
“It’s fine. The house is secure. Neither the Sokolovs nor Cora’s family have made any moves to contact us or anyone else in the house.”
I frown. “Okay. Then what the fuck is this about?”
I’m getting impatient. I need to christen every surface of the mansion. A sexual exorcism to purge Francia’s essence from every goddamn nook and cranny. I’ll fuck Cora in the garden, in the eighth guest bathroom, hanging from the chandelier—it’ll be like burning sage to get rid of the demons.
“They haven’t contacted anyone in this house,” he repeats with emphasis. “Not a word all of last night or this morning.”
It takes me a second before my eyes pop wide. “Are you fucking telling me that Francia is still in there?”
Cora gasps as Yasha nods.
“She has no clue what happened last night.” He smiles in wild disbelief. “After the attack, I figured Mikhail would call and warn her. But I got back here and she was still in bed. Then she woke up this morning and… business as usual.”
“She’s here?” Cora hisses.
“Why didn’t you get rid of her?” I demand.
Yasha gives me a shit-eating grin. “I thought you might enjoy the honors.”
When I process what he’s suggesting, my grin spreads wide to match Yasha’s. “You thought right.” I turn to Cora. “Stay behind me.”
I kiss her hard and fast before I step into my own house, slamming the door behind us to make sure the sound echoes. Cora stays tucked away between me and a pillar in the foyer.
It only takes a few seconds before I hear the click-clack of heels on the tile. Or maybe it’s cloven hooves. Who can really say?
“Where in the hell have you been?” Francia snaps.
Her nostrils are flared in frustration and her top lip is curled. She isn’t attractive on a good day and today is not a good day. Not for her, at least.
Fuck, I can’t wait until she’s out of my house.
“I went out.”
“Where? For what?” Her eyes narrow. “Who were you with?”
“That’s my business.”
She shakes her head. “That is not how this works. If we are going to live in this house together, I have to know something about what you’re up to. I’m not going to be married to a ghost. Plus, you said you wouldn’t be unfaithful. You can’t touch anyone else while we’re together.”
“Luckily,” I say, reaching behind me to turn the doorknob slowly, “you and I aren’t together. Not anymore.”
Francia goes deathly still. “That’s bad news for Cora then. Or have you forgotten? I control what happens to her.”
Her threat is lifeless. Based on the way she’s staring at the front door and the way her throat bobs, I have a feeling Francia can feel the shift in the air, even if she doesn’t quite know it yet.
“Is that right?” I smirk. Cora slinks out from behind me. I feel absolutely fucking giddy to have her right here. The warmth of her body along my arm, the tingle of awareness that she is finally, mercifully close to me… “What do you think, Cora? Does Francia have any control over you?”
“Not anymore,” Cora says with surprising viciousness.
Her eyes gleam and her fists knot up. It’s hot as hell, actually.
Cora squeezes my hand as Francia takes in the two of us. She digs frantically into her pocket for her phone, but I can tell as soon as she looks at the screen that there’s nothing there. No missed calls. No messages.
Her shoulders sag and she takes another step back. “Did you kill them?” Her chin is wobbling, but she’s fighting back tears. “Is that why they didn’t call?”
“It would almost be better if I killed them. Then you could believe they abandoned you because there was no other choice. But no, I didn’t. As soon as I showed up, Mikhail and Alexander ran like cowards without even a word of warning to you. So much for your ‘allies.’”
She looks even paler than usual. Her lips are white and her eyes dart from side to side, looking for an escape.
Francia stares at Cora for one beat, two. Then she turns to me. “I assume our deal is at an end.”
I snort. “Fuck yes. Your life is at an end, too. Unless Cora decides to spare you.”
I walked through the door with every intention of killing Francia for everything she’d put me through in the last week. But Cora is the victim. If either of us should decide what happens to Francia, it should be her.
Slowly, Francia shifts her gaze back to Cora.
“You’re interested in what I have to say now?” Cora asks, a smile on her face.
“I won’t apologize for wanting to live.”
“Fine,” Cora snaps. “Don’t. But do apologize for almost killing me and Jorden in the process.”
Francia’s thin lips seal together. Finally, she exhales. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s cute. Try again. This time, on your knees.”
“You’re not serious.”
Cora points down at the floor. “Drop to your knees and beg me for forgiveness, Francia.”
Holy hell, I didn’t think it was possible to be more turned on than I was last night, but here it is. Francia thought Cora couldn’t be a Bratva wife, but look at her now. She is ruthless.
It’s incredible.
“What if I refuse?”
“Then you die,” Cora says simply. “Your call.”
Francia looks at me, which just makes me laugh out loud. Never in my life have I been looked at as the more merciful of two options.
I just shrug. “I’d do as she says.”
She wobbles between a sneer and a sob as she gingerly lowers herself to her knees. “Cora, I’m sorry for—”
“Closer.” Cora curls a finger. “I can’t quite hear you. Crawl closer to me.”
Another pause. Another hopeful glance in my direction. Another absolute failure to find anything close to salvation there.
So, with another grimace, Francia slides across the tile floor on her hands and her knees, her gaze fixed on the floor.
“Look at me,” Cora barks.
Francia’s face is burning with shame. Her eyes shimmer with tears.
I’m loving every fucking second of this.
Cora holds up a hand to stop Francia once she’s close enough. “Good. Now, look at me and speak clearly.”
Francia bends her neck back to look up at Cora. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For… for planning to kidnap you.”
“And?”
“And moving into this house with Ivan,” she continues.
“And?” Cora prods.
“And… and I’m sorry for kidnapping Jorden, too?”
“I don’t know. Are you sorry? It’s not a Q&A; it’s an apology.”
“I’m sorry for kidnapping Jorden,” Francia states. “I’m sorry for everything I did that hurt or upset you.”
Cora looks back at me, a small smile playing across her lips. “Was that everything, Ivan?”
I step up behind Cora, her back pressing firmly to my front. I’m sure she can feel my hardness against her lower back. I lick the curve of her ear and then whisper, “Make her beg.”
Cora shivers, but it’s subtle. Just for me.
“What do you want to happen now, Francia?” Cora asks. “What should I do with you next?”
Francia hasn’t looked away from us. She was transfixed by us. At the sound of Cora’s voice, she blinks and looks back down at the floor. “I want to live.”
“Then show me.”
She sits back on her heels and shrugs. “How? I’m on my knees. What more do you—”
“Show me!” Cora snaps. Her voice echoes off the high ceilings. “Show me how much you want to live. Show me what your life is worth to you.”
For the first time, Francia doesn’t look angry, she looks scared. That’s because she never saw what I saw in Cora—her fire is what drew me in. Francia underestimated her.
She drops back onto her hands and knees and crawls closer. Then she lowers her forehead to the floor. “Please don’t kill me, Cora. I want to live. I’m… I’m begging you.” Her voice cracks. “Please don’t kill me.”
Cora looks down at her, expression icy cold. “God, that was pathetic. Worse than I thought it would be.”
Francia starts to sit up, but Cora quickly puts her foot on Francia’s shoulder and pins her back to the floor. “I didn’t say you could get up.”
Francia yelps but then falls quiet again.
“I don’t want to ever see you again,” Cora snarls. “I don’t care where you go, but I suggest you make it far—because if I do ever see you again, I’ll kill you myself.”
Francia nods. “Okay. Okay, I’ll disappear.”
Cora removes her foot. “Stand up.”
Francia rises, unsteady and afraid. Still, it isn’t enough. She deserves more than embarrassment. She deserves pain. Lots of it. What I wouldn’t give to let loose on her and—
Suddenly, Cora jerks out of my grip and lands a punch directly in the center of Francia’s face. There’s a nasty cracking sound and blood spurts down her lip.
Francia screams and recoils back, both hands clamped over her nose. More blood wells between her knuckles.
“Now,” Cora says, shaking out her fist, “get out of my fucking house, you psychotic bitch!”
Even after the blow, Francia doesn’t hesitate. She leaves a trail of spattered blood droplets as she runs around us and disappears through the front door.
I turn and look at my woman. “Cora…”
“Sorry about the power trip.” Her cheeks are pink and she chews nervously on her lower lip. “I should have let you handle that, but I just… I got so mad when I saw her. I wanted to make her pay.”
I grab Cora’s shoulders and look her in her eyes. “Cora, that was the sexiest fucking thing I have ever seen.” I grab her hand and place it over the bulge in my pants. “I have never been more turned-on in my life.”
Her mouth tips into a shy smile as her hand strokes up and down the length of my zipper. “Now what?” she asks.
I smirk. “I have an idea.”