Love Interrupted Read online

  “Yes. Take me. I’m ready. I promise I’m ready.” My pleas are shameless. I’m shameless. My good girl act is dead forever. From now on, I’m Igor Ivanov’s plaything and I’m ready and willing, anytime, any day.

  Finally, he nods and moves up, covering me with his body. His lips fuse to mine, drawing out a sweltering kiss to end all kisses. Our tongues tangle and our breaths mingle. I taste myself on his kiss and my need grows stronger. When his warmth engulfs me and his weight crushes my trembling limbs, he rises to position himself at my entrance. “I love you, Charlotte. So much baby. So much it hurts.”

  “I’m yours. Always.” I rake my nails across his chest and spread my legs wider. I don’t want any misunderstanding. I need him like I need air and I can’t wait one second more.

  He takes my cue and with one more kiss moves into me, stretching me open as a silent scream strangles my voice. I’m so wet, so slick, he glides in but quickly comes to a screeching halt.

  “Don’t stop.” I whine and gaze into his wide blue eyes. I need this to happen. “Break me, Iggy. I’m yours. Forever yours.”

  Clasping my hands over my head, he pushes forward. My breath hitches. “Oh, God.” I gasp and dig my heels into the bed.

  “Sweetheart, I’m hurting you.” His eyes search mine for a sign if he should stop. He’s not getting one. Pain or not, this is happening.

  “Keep going, baby. I want...” The words have barely been uttered when he plunges forward, shreds my innocence and roots himself inside me. We gasp in unison and stare in stunned silence as my body adjusts to this massive invasion. When I lift my legs and wrap them around his hips, he sighs, releases a heavy breath and thrusts.

  The pain subsides and mixes with unspeakable pleasure. His lips travel down my skin, unleashing our lust as we lick and suck every once of skin within our reach. I feel insatiable. Starved for my Igor. When his sinewy hands grasp my waist and flip me over, I fall forward, offering myself, demanding to be ridden and claimed.

  Igor loses his mind. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.” He leans in, clasps my hands over my head and thrusts. He’s relentless. Possessed by lust, he greedily takes what’s his and I give it all. I’m lost to him. Lost to waves of undulating pleasure as his thick cock mercilessly stretches me out, shattering my senses, molding and branding me as his. Anything he wants I’ll gladly surrender. I was born to be his and I revel in the sheer ecstasy of having him inside me.

  His pace is reckless but I welcome every plunge with an earth-shattering wail. One climax strikes and another follows. Our passion is out of this world. Animalistic but sacred. When he slaps my ass, a chain of electric currents sizzle into my core. Ecstasy grips me. Bliss follows every thrust and a slow rapture consumes me whole.

  “I love you.” His words seer through my heart as he pulls me closer, wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his lap. With his lips on my neck and his cock thrusting hard, I once again succumb to the building tension threatening to break me apart.

  “Igor, I love...” Words fail me as the friction takes me into another dimension. Engulfed in a sea of moans, I wail in sweet agony as he pushes me toward the brink of insanity. His words, his scent and his unconditional love fill me and tie me to him forever.

  “Charlotte, baby. You’re my life.” His savage kisses build on our mounting tension, consuming us into a fire we can’t contain.

  “I’m so close and I’ve got so much cum for you.” With nasty words, he seals my fate. The harder he drives, the louder I moan. The more I beg, the deeper he thrusts. Lost in a heightened state of ecstasy, every muscle tenses at once. Soft cries becomes unearthly wails that transform into shattering convulsions that wreck me over and over. With words of love and soothing kisses, he gazes into my eyes and sends me over a long cliff, shattering me in a white-hot climax that melt me into a puddle of spent desire.

  “Iggy, I love you.” I whimper as my pussy squeezes his cock and his brutal pace evolves into sweet agony.

  With another thrust, he takes my lips and his thick cock erupts, shooting rope after rope of hot seed deep inside me. I feel it all and pray that it takes root. This is the start of everything for us.

  With my hands clasped to his, he nuzzles his face to my neck. “Charlotte...”

  He struggles to find his breath. “Are you happy, baby?”

  I kiss his sweaty brow and hold him to my chest. “I’m so happy.”

  Three

  Igor

  Present Day

  This is an odd place to meet. The location is a little cliché but according to Anton, this is one of those fake trattorias that never opens for business. I’ve heard about these. Seems like a waste of prime real estate with so much tourist traffic wandering by. But what do I care? If the Sicilians want to waste money on a frivolous store front, then it’s none of my business.

  “What is this about? I thought we were meeting with Moretti on Friday?” Anton shouts from the driver’s seat. I brought him for back-up. Leo Moretti wanted to meet alone but alone never means alone. Bodyguards don’t count. Anton’s the perfect insurance to carry for a meeting in Little Italy. Nearly 6’8 and covered with the mark of the Bratva from the neck down, he threatens without saying a word.

  “I have no idea. And I’m supposed to know everything. I checked with Yuri and he thinks it’s a pre-meeting to negotiate a large percentage. He doesn’t mind conditions, but he wants everything worked out ahead of time. Leo isn’t a pain in the ass like his father and fortunately, Yuri isn’t as crazy as Uncle Ivan.” I lean back into my seat and listen to Anton’s colorful Russian profanity, yelling at drivers who don’t understand a word he’s saying.

  Something’s going on. Maybe an accident. This isn’t a peak time of year for tourists and yet the streets are crawling with jaywalking crowds jamming the crosswalks and holding up cars in every direction. This is why I hate Manhattan. It makes no sense. Locals act like tourists and tourists never know when to stay home and give everyone a break.

  I’m so glad I stayed in Brooklyn. There was nothing for me here. I was a fool to think there ever was.

  “Igor, I’m taking a shortcut through Baxter. It’ll take a few more minutes, but we’re early.” Anton points to the road ahead. He’s right. It’s bumper to bumper and the ominous sound of ambulances drawing nearer are likely headed towards the cause of this clusterfuck.

  I glance at my watch and wave him ahead. “Don’t sweat it. All we need to do is make it on time.”

  We’ve wanted this for years. Full access to the Moretti’s shipping routes. Leo’s dad gave us access but at a hefty price and with too many conditions to make it worth it. He wanted our muscle and our connections. We got the shittier deal. I won’t let that happen again.

  I want you to work with Leo. You know him. My father trusted his father. He didn’t like him, but he trusted him. If we can make this happen, we’ll have a huge advantage over the other families.

  It sounds reasonable, but I know him. I’ve known him since birth. My cousin, Yuri, is unpredictable. I’ll go through all the steps, set everything up with meticulous oversight, and come Friday, he’ll destroy my work with an off-color joke. He never knows when to quit.

  But I wish he would. I wish we could quit all of this.

  “We’re here.” Anton points to a restaurant called Vincenzo’s. Named after Leo’s grandfather. How quaint.

  I nod, grab my jacket and spring out of the car. I want to get in and out as soon as possible. This meeting feels redundant. He knows I can’t make decisions without Yuri’s approval.

  Something feels off. There was something about Leo’s tone that unnerved me. It was almost sycophantic. Like he wants a favor.

  What the shit can we do for him?

  The Moretti’s are far more powerful. They don’t come to the Ivanov for favors. They’ve had their hand in this part of Manhattan for the last seventy years. No matter how much money we’ve amassed, we’ll never make up for that kind of time a
nd loyalty.

  “Welcome to Vincenzo’s.” Gianni, Leo’s cousin, approaches us at the door. “Leave the guns at the bar.”

  Anton shakes his head and I answer for us both. “No fucking way. If we’re getting frisked, Anton plans to frisk everyone here. I’m not coming in if you’re holding and we’re not.”

  I gnash my teeth and wait for him to respond. He doesn’t. We stare down our noses and puff out our chests like two well-dressed gorillas. Finally, a voice from the back ends our ridiculous stand-off.

  “Let them pass. I invited him and this won’t take long.” It’s Leo and my God, he looks like shit.

  Leo Moretti, don of the Moretti family never has a hair out of place. He’s the most vain person I’ve ever met. Chicks love him. He’s charming, debonair and looks like an Italian movie star. But not today. His disheveled uncombed locks reveal gray at his temples. I knew the conceited shit dyed his hair. He’s turned in his Brioni suit for a stereotypical track suit that not even I would be caught dead in. Bags under his eyes reflect a lack of sleep and he hasn’t shaved in days.

  This fucker’s in love. I know this look. I’ve been there.

  “Are you sick? You’re not contagious, are you? Do you need to cancel Friday’s meeting?” I take a notepad and pen out of my breast pocket and start with the obvious. It’s entirely possible. I keep an eye on his family and I haven’t heard he’s seeing anyone new. His last girlfriend was an Italian socialite named Fabrizia and that ended weeks ago.”

  He shakes his head and offers a lazy smile. My broken heart recognizes a comrade in pain.

  This chump has it bad.

  “What’s her name?” I chuckle.

  “I owe you an apology.” He leans back, scratches his messy hair and lets out a sharp breath.

  I frown. “For what? What did you do to me?”

  “Nothing. But I have information I’ve neglected to share. It wasn’t my place and I had a duty to protect my family’s interests.” He gestures to his men and asks for a bottle of wine.

  “Did you ask me here to piss me off?” I don’t know where this is leading, but apologies are never good.

  “At first, I wasn’t sure if you cared But recently, my brother, Lorenzo, noticed you still wear your wedding band. You were married for three days, four years ago, and you still wear something most men would have thrown away.” While he asks one of his goons for a folder, I try to steady the beat of my thundering heart. How the hell does he know about Charlotte? What does she have to do with any of this?

  Is that who he’s in love with?

  I clutch the sides of the small table and clench my fists so hard I fear I’ll break the wood in half. “Why are you asking these questions? How do you know about my marriage? If you try to hurt her...”

  He raises his hand to shut me up. “Do you even know where she is? You don’t, right? Charlotte Wentworth has been living under an assumed name for four years. We erased all trace of her. My father and your uncle made that happen. Not me. If it’s any consolation. She did it to protect you. The good senator threatened to turn you into the feds if she didn’t annul the marriage. Later, your uncle made her believe her life was in danger if she came home.” He hands me a file full of doctored photos and a fake rap sheet a mile long.

  “Why?” I squeeze the file and twist the folder into a weapon. One more more word and I might stab him in the heart.

  Is this why she ran away?

  “My family owns Senator Wentworth. He’s been in bed with us since his first congressional campaign. When you married his daughter, he came to my father and asked how it would affect their relationship. He worried about his image, but he was far more concerned about the gravy train running dry. He’s a pathetic man.” He stops to take a sip.

  “My father said he didn’t care. You were a nobody. When she married you, his daughter would become a nobody. Just another mob lawyer and his wife. But your uncle took issue. He said if you married a Senator’s daughter, you’d try to leave the family business. And you were too valuable to lose. So, they split you up. My father got his alliance with your uncle. The Senator got campaign contributions. Your wife got an annulment from the hardened criminal who lied about his life. And your uncle got the perfect sovietnik---his nephew, the family lawyer.”

  I slam my fist on the table. “What? What the shit did I get?”

  “You got screwed. And I’m sorry for my family’s role. If I were you, I’d ask your cousin how much he knew.” He pours himself another glass of chianti.

  I’m too stunned to answer. Words linger mid-air while I listen to the beat of my heart thumping loudly in my ears. Charlotte thinks I’m a monster. What if she thinks I wanted to kill her? This is worse than I ever imagined.

  “Igor? Listen. I can help you. I didn’t do this, but I can help you.” He lights a cigarette, inhales deep and lets the smoke drift into his face.

  “What the fuck do you want? You brought me here for a reason. You could have told me weeks ago. Stop feigning generosity and tell me what you want in return.” I stand to leave, but he raises his hand and urges me to listen.

  “Fine, I won’t bullshit you. I need Yuri’s help. And I need your help to convince him. You’re his cousin and his sovietnik. He listens to you.” He drinks half his glass and I finally take mine. I need to get this moving.

  “Leo. Out with it. You just kicked me in the balls. I want to go home and drink a whole bottle of vodka.” I bark with rage and sip his shitty wine.

  “You were right. This is about a girl.” He takes a long drag from his cigarette.

  “No shit.” I sneer with venom.

  “But it’s serious. I wouldn’t put my family in danger if it weren’t. I’ve been over it a hundred times and I have no choice. I’m not giving her up.” He steadies his trembling hand and draws his gaze to mine.

  “So who is it?”

  “Alia de Alba.” A small smile forms as he pronounces her name. Every syllable gives him pleasure.

  I turn away in confusion and frown. “De Alba? Do you mean?”

  He cuts me off and desperation breaks through his calm demeanor. “Alejandro de Alba’s baby sister. Yuri knows him well. He looks up to him. And more importantly, he wants something from Yuri. If he helps me with this, I’ll lower our percentage from fifteen to seven and a half. You know that’s huge.”

  I slam my palm on the table and almost drop our glasses. “I can’t advise Yuri to get involved. This girl is not worth pissing off the Mexican cartel. Not to us.”

  “Is Charlotte?” He stares coldly and places his phone on the table. “One call and I can have Charlotte back on a plane to New York. I can force her father to confess his lies. I can’t make her take you back. That’s your job. But can you live with yourself if you never take the chance? Talk to you Yuri. He knows exactly what Alex wants.”

  Four

  Igor

  “Moretti wants Alia de Alba? And for my cooperation, he’ll cut his percentage in half?” Yuri raises an eyebrow and grins. I know that grin. His wheels are spinning out of control.

  “Why does he think you have the power to convince Alex? He says you know what Alex wants. What the fuck does he want? Do I work here? Why are you keeping me out of this loop?” I peel the jacket off my sleeves and throw it on the couch.

  “Plus, he’ll help you with Charlotte?” He hands me a glass of whiskey.

  I snatch it from his hands and survey him suspiciously. “I don’t want her part of this equation. I’ll find her on my own.”

  He sits and smirks. “I told you I didn’t know about any of it. I promise.” He raises one hand like he’s taking an oath. “But I don’t put it past my old man. He was an enormous asshole. If you’d been mildly interested in becoming pahkan, he would have skipped over me and chosen you. He was pissed when you married on the sly. He never thought someone like her would marry someone like you. When you broke the news, he was furious. I should have guessed he was behind it. But when I asked him, he said he wasn’t. And
you didn’t question him twice.” He takes a drink and gestures for me to sit.

  “Someone like me, huh?” I down my whiskey in one gulp and pour another before I return to the couch. I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s always been there, sitting beneath the surface, but now it’s worse than ever. Every thought I have is Charlotte.

  Even if we know the truth, it’s too late to fix things. She’s gone forever. She’s been gone all along. I just didn’t know it.

  “You know girls like her don’t go for guys like us. But she loved you. I only met her twice, but I could tell. If Leo can help you, let him help you.” He lifts his glass in the air and mimics a toast.

  I shake my head to dismiss this painful topic. I can’t talk about it now. I’d give anything for another chance but she shouldn’t be involved in this mess. It’s dangerous.

  “So, Leo wants Alia. What does Alex want? And why does he think you can help him get Alia? Yuri, for fuck’s sake. It’s my job to know everything and you keep leaving out details. I can’t protect this family if you neglect to tell me things that can alter our lives.”

  “Do you trust me?” He smiles.

  I shake my head. Nod. Then shake my head again. “It depends.”

  “Do you remember a few weeks ago when Maksim spotted Alex and his men within our borders? We thought it was a territory grab, but it blew over and turned out to be nothing.” He pauses and considers his next words.

  “Of course, I remember.” I finish another whiskey. I need to slow down.

  “Well three days ago, Alex offered his baby sister to me. I don’t know how the hell Leo knows, but I’ll give him credit for being thorough.” He takes a long swig and clenches his jaw as he swallows. It’s not like Yuri to take these things lightly. We don’t exchange women like money. Others do. We hear about it all the time, but it goes against our code.