Irina
The music downstairs was loud enough to rattle the windows.
I pressed my pillows over my ears and tried to block out the chaos below. The laugher. The shouting. The occasional crash of breaking glass.
The Volkov Bratva celebrated victories like the world was ending, and tonight they had reason to celebrate. Dimitri had secured the eastern docks, expanded his territory, and crushed his rivals without losing a single man.
I should have been happy for him. I was happy for him. But I was also bone tired.
Earlier, I had planned the party with the other house workers. Made sure everything was ready and well prepared to Dmitri's taste.
Four years as his personal maid had taught me to read his moods better than I could read words on a page. I knew how he liked his tea. How he wanted his suits pressed. How he needed silence after violence.
And tonight, he had ordered me to stay in the bedroom, away from the party, away from his men.
"Stay in my room," he had said, his ocean blue eyes serious in a way that made my stomach twist. "Lock the door. Do not come out until morning."
I had not not bothered to ask why. You don't question Dimitri Volkov.
So here I am. Curled up in his massive bed that smelled like expensive cologne and his uniqueness. The sheets were too soft against my skin. Everything in his world was too beautiful, too perfect, and I did not belong in any of it.
But I loved him anyway.
I had not meant to. You don't fall in love with your master. That was the kind of foolishness that got girls like me hurt. But Dimitri was gentle with me in ways he was not gentle with anyone else. He said please and thank you. He asked about my day. He looked at me like I was a person instead of property.
And I was property. Sold to the Volkov clan four years ago to settle a debt that was not even mine. This was all I had ever known.
I was drifting off to sleep when I heard the rattling of the door handle.
My heart jumped into my throat. I had locked it. I was sure I had locked it.
But the door opened anyway.
And a figure stumbled into the darkness. Tall, with broad shoulders, and that silhouette I would have recognized even when blind.
"Dimitri?" I whispered.
He did not answer. He just swayed there like the floor was tilting beneath him. He wore his robe. The black silk, one I had laid out yesterday. His hair fell into his face, looking messy and wild.
Relief washed through me as I stared at him. He must have come to check on me.
"Are you alright?" I asked softly.
He moved towards the bed. His steps were heavy, and clumsy. It felt wong. Dimitri never moved like that. He was always controlled, and always aware of every inch of his body.
"Dimitri?" I said again.
He collapsed onto the bed beside me. The mattress dipped under his weight.
He smelled like vodka and smoke and something sharp that made my nose wrinkle.
He was terribly drunk.
I had never seen Dimitri drunk. He drank, but never like this. Never enough to lose control.
"You should rest," I said gently. "You drank too much."
His hand found my face in the dim light, and cupped my cheek. His thumb brushed across my lips with surprising tenderness.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Dimitri," I whispered.
He kissed me.
I froze. This was wrong. This crossed every careful boundary we had built over four years. But his lips were warm and desperate, and I had dreamed of this moment so many times that my body moved before my mind could stop it.
I kissed him back.
He pulled me closer, his hands sliding into my hair. The kiss deepened, became urgent, and almost frantic. Like he had been holding back forever and could not hold back anymore.
"I have wanted this," he murmured against my lips, his voice rough and slurred. "Wanted you."
Those words broke me.
I let him pull my nightgown over my head. Let him lay me back against the pillows. Let him kiss my neck, my shoulders, everywhere. His hands claimed me like I was something precious instead of something bought and paid for.
When he pushed inside me, I gasped. There was pain, sharp and bright, but underneath it was something else. Something that felt like finally being chosen.
We moved together in the dark. His breathing was harsh in my ear. My fingers dug into his shoulders. The pleasure rose and rose until I thought I might shatter from it.
I cried out his name as I rose to my peak. "Dimitri."
He buried his face in my neck and shuddered against me, his whole body went rigid before collapsing.
Afterwards, he pulled me close, his arm was heavy across my waist. I curled into him, my heart raced, like it might come out.
This had really happened. Dimitri had finally chosen me.
I blushed as I listened to his breathing slow and steady. He had fallen into a deep sleep. My eyes grew heavy. I let myself drift off to sleep, happy for the first time in longer than I could remember.
When I woke, the room was still mostly dark. But thin gray light crept around the edges of the curtains. Dawn was coming.
The arm around my waist was gone.
I sat up slowly, my body aching in different places. I looked around for him, expecting to see Dimitri getting ready for the day like he always did.
The bathroom door opened.
He stepped out fully dressed in a black shirt, and black pants. His hair was still messy but his movements were steady now, and controlled again.
Then, he looked at me.
And my smile died on my lips.
His eyes were green.
Not ocean blue. Not the color I knew better than my own face in a mirror. It was forest green.
My heart stopped.
It wasn't Dimitri.
I had slept with Alexei.