CHAPTER 74
ALEXIA PALLIS.
“So this waiter comes up to us and he asks what can I get you and your brothers?”
Kat laughs, happy tears shining in her eyes.
“Noo. Then what do you say?” I ask, the man seated next to me digging his fingers into my thigh under the table.
“I can’t say anything because Dee is already standing up from his seat”, Cat explains, Demetri grins beside her.
Maximo huffs, sipping the wine like the most disgusting thing he’s had in a while.
“Always the dramatic one”, Max says.
“So Dee grabs the waiter by the collar and asks him, does this ugly motherfucker look like my brother? Maximo, offended also stands up and the waiter looks like he’s about to piss himself…no correction they intimidated him and made him pee on himself”, Kat chuckles then she bubbles with pig-like snorts that have both men seated beside her griming with pride.
“I would have wanted his nose broken for calling me your brother, trouble”, Maximo corrects.
I don’t have to be a genius to figure out their hands are lost somewhere beneath the table on her thighs too but for my sake and my grumpy don’s sake I pretend I don’t know that tidbit of information.
“He didn’t know we were together.”
“No one is calling you our sister in front of our fucking face”, Dee warns lunging for her cheek to land a kiss.
“Hey, hey, no cussing in front of the baby and you are in my house, so keep your hands to yourself”, Christian warns and I hold his hand, stopping him from ruining a perfect dinner among friends.
“Behave”, I whisper.
“I am behaving.”
He doesn’t whisper that part.
“You call that behaving, you’ve been ruining the dinner since the stories started”, Brenda who’s seated next to Demetri together with Jett, points at Christian with a fistful fork of salad.
“It’d be best to remember the hand that pays your salary.”
“Oh please, I’m not the only one who sees it”, Brenda pokes the bear again and everyone agrees.
I chuckle lightly.
“You said dinner, we are having dinner. Why is everyone ganging up on me?”
He asks the question with sheer authority that sounds brittle but the dumbfounded look on his face is cute. Especially and most especially when his hand hasn’t left my right thigh since we sat down.
“Because you’re a spoilsport. I don’t think the concept of fun has ever been in your system”, Kat jumps in.
“I can be fun”, Christian defends himself and everyone chuckles even Maximo.
“I am fun. Sunshine, tell them.”
Oh, baby.
“Well, he umm…he is fun when he wants to be. He once told me a joke.”
Right before he cornered me in the ladies’ washroom, intentionally.
Demetri scoffs,” Volkov and jokes? Pfft, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Wanna tell them?” I ask.
Christian scowls.
“No.”
“For me?”
“No.”
“For Millie?”
I flutter my lashes at him then gaze at Millie who’s chewing her salmon while seated in her baby seat at the edge of the table.
“Don’t bring Millie into this.”
“Out with it, Volkov”, Maximo says, startling all of us.
Huffing like this dinner has been exhausting him, which I know it has and he’s only being calm because I’m here, Christian asks, “Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”
“No, I did not”, Brenda quips, her face smug.
“Why is this diarrhea hereditary?” Demetri asks in his Russian accent which makes it even funnier.
“Because it runs in your jeans”, Christian finishes and the whole table bursts into laughter even Jett who’s been looking pissed since the club thing with Brenda a few days ago.
“I’m sorry…what?” Kat asks.
I chuckle slightly.
“That is the most ridiculous joke I’ve ever heard. Where did you…where would you hear a joke like that?”
“Google.”
“You googled the joke?” I ask.
My heart flutters.
“For you. Yes.”
And that is enough for me to take his lips despite the audience we have.
It’s not like I’m the only one who wants this dinner to end and we can skip to dessert and yeah by dessert I mean sex alright.
“We are going to Chicago tomorrow.”
Maximo speaks, breaking the mood in half.
I pry my lips from Christian, looking him in the eye.
“We are going back to Chicago?”
“No. Just me and Maximo.”
***
He washed the dishes.
I whined about Chicago.
I said I wanted to go.
He ignored my pleas.
I used fake tears, used threats but Christian Volkov is a hard nut to crack when it comes to protecting what is his.
After the goodnights, he brought me and Millie upstairs, took Millie to the adjoining room-her bedroom before he came back to our bedroom and fucked me senseless.
I might dislike him at the moment but I don’t think I’m ever getting over how good it feels to hold onto his shoulders while he rams into me, how good it feels to hear him groan and call me his over and over, how good it feels to be carried in his arms after sex and being cleaned tenderly like the most precious thing he owns.
Right now, his hand massages my tummy like he has been doing for days while his lips kiss my shoulder.
“Are you still mad?”
“That you don’t want me to sleep? Yes.”
“No, about the Chicago thing.”
He’s so oblivious I almost want to kick him out of bed.
“Baby, I need you and Junior safe. Chicago is not safe.”
“But Dante is dead, it was in the news.”
It was in the news. Something about Dante being burnt beyond recognition. Personally, I wouldn’t want that for anyone but I met the guy in Russia once and he looked and was an absolute dick for trying to kill me and Volkov with poisoned wine.
“Dante is not the only man in the world who wants me dead and by extension wants you dead too.”
“We are safe wherever you are.”
“Not in Chicago, no. I’ll be gone for a few days. A simple in and out operation and I’ll be back before you know it. I wanted to tell you about it tonight but Maximo and his big mouth blabbered it all.”
“How many days? I don’t want you saying ‘a few’ because a few days can turn into weeks or months. Give me an exact date so I’ll wait for you and prepare myself for your arrival.”
“Three days.”
Three torturous days.
He kisses my shoulder, the action making my back lean into his chest more.
I sleep naked most of the time. Because that’s how comfortable I am with him.
“How are you going to prepare yourself exactly?”
“I’m not giving any details but it might include something having to do with sexy lingerie.”
“Christ, can’t wait to see that.”
“You can stay and I’ll wear lingerie for you tomorrow.”
“Baby.”
“You are still going to Chicago, aren’t you?”
“I have to. Can I get a taste of-.”
“No and goodnight Mr. Vitello Volkov.”
He doesn’t fight but I can feel his erection poking my ass and I want it bad.
I blame it on the hormones.
“Goodnight, sunshine.”
But he shuts it down too quickly.
***
He’s been gone two days and I miss him terribly.
His grumpiness.
His possessiveness.
Gah, I even miss the words ‘sunshine’ and ‘little nurse’ like hell.
Which is why as soon as I drag my feet downstairs cradling Millie in my arms and my phone pressing against the back pockets of my shorts, I don’t blame Brenda and Kat for acting weird.
I’ve been a bit sluggish.
“How uh how was your morning?” Kat asks, standing stiffly as a board by the fridge.
“Great, I barely slept a wink but it was great. I don’t see Demetri anywhere. Did he leave too?”
“No. He has something to take care of…you know women—I mean work.”
Her chuckle makes me raise a brow.
“What are you hiding behind you?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s clearly something if you are nervous and Brenda is pretending to eat raisins.”
I look at Brenda then at Kat before she pulls out some sort of magazine from behind her.
She pushes the magazine on the counter towards me and I pick it up with one hand, the other hand holding Millie in place.
‘CHRISTIAN VITELLO VOLKOV’S NEW FLING?’
…Amidst rumors of him being involved in the mafia and some might dare say the leader of the said mafia. Christian Vitello Volkov was seen tonight getting cozy with Jefferson Miller’s daughter, the same Miss Universe from last year’s…
blah blah blah…dating….blah blah couple of the year…
I try to remain calm.
Last night, he texted saying he missed me and Millie. He hasn’t texted me today. I checked.
But he was on a date last night?
A date with a freaking Miss Universe?
I take my phone out and I text the only number that has a heart in it.
My heart to be exact.
Me: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Don *heart emoji*: Got a bit delayed, sunshine. Might not make it tomorrow.
Oh. Ooh.
Me: Because you are too busy entertaining Miss Universe?
I send the message and I switch my phone off.
Those pictures were hella cozy.
And that woman was…she looked like the carbon copy of ‘if young Salma Hayek had young Brad Pitt’s baby’.
And let’s be honest here, young Salma Hayek was a bombshell back in the day.
And a young Brad Pitt was hottter than jalapeno poppers.
Damn him. Her and her pretty hair.