Stolen Moments, page 1
STOLEN MOMENTS
My Ex-S Dad Dark Mafia Romance
The Bratva Billionaires’ Forbidden Darlings
Book 3
BARBI COX
Contents
1. Aleksandr
2. Stephanie
3. Aleksandr
4. Stephanie
5. Aleksandr
6. Stephanie
7. Aleksander
8. Stephanie
9. Aleksandr
10. Stephanie
11. Aleksandr
12. Stephanie
13. Aleksandr
14. Stephanie
15. Aleksandr
16. Stephanie
17. Aleksandr
18. Stephanie
19. Aleksandr
20. Stephanie
21. Epilogue: Aleksandr
Also by Barbi Cox
Copyright © 2023 by Barbi Cox 🌈
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ONE
Aleksandr
The woman on the screen in front of me moans as the man on top of her holds her against the window and fucks her hard, letting plenty of others see. I stroke my cock, knowing I have little time to finish. Still, I imagine some young girl begging me to be rougher between panting breaths. She moans for me. Aching for me, lost in the ecstasy I’m giving her just by being with her that no one else exists.
To her, it wouldn’t matter how many people watch as long as I’m the one touching her, I’m the one inside her. I groan and tighten my hold on myself when there’s a knock at the door.
“Give me a minute!” I order in Russian, turning down the volume on the porn.
Even better, I picture myself taking the same girl against my desk right now, knowing there’s someone outside. I let her be loud, let every one of my staff and whoever needs me, listen to her beg me to let her come, beg me to let her stay, to be mine, and then..
I grunt as I come into my palm, letting heat and pleasure sizzle through me.
Picturing dark hair, a lithe body, but someone so much warmer than the air outside, someone who knows more than how to please me only briefly, softens the impersonal moment until I sigh as I sit back in my plush, leather chair.
After cleaning up, I zip myself up, escape the screen with the video, and clear my throat. “Come in.”
My best officer–after my boys, of course–comes in and glances from me to the window.
“Yes? You nearly beat the door down. What is it?” I rush, still annoyed he cut my fun short.
Instead of answering, he takes a few steps forward and lays down an envelope on my desk. I recognize the handwriting. After all, my wife has always shared her thoughts easier on paper than verbally.
I glance up at Vlad, arching an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“She left this.”
Not even saying her name? Yeléna wouldn’t care, but I do. She’s been as dedicated to this business as I have been for the last twenty years. I open the letter and pause after the first sentence. I know nothing good can follow the words, “You deserve to understand why I can’t be here.”
“She left,” I summarize.
“With her clothing and nothing else, sir,” Vlad confirms.
Yeléna threatened to leave a few times over, always saying that she wanted more than comfort, more than a man who found reasons to lose himself in work rather than her. Then we’d had the children. With each child, the threats lessened and lessened. Once Katenka was born, she’d only brought it up once, when they were grown.
I’d dismissed it. We’d always made a good pair. We made sense. We built each other up. We were partners through and through. It wasn’t passion that made a marriage and, despite two of my sons thinking they’d found life’s answers in women, it was understanding, common goals, stability, and a learned comfort with the other person that bred a love that lasted ... I’d thought.
Vlad cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you with the letter, sir.”
Yeléna goes on for two pages about how she’s certain there’s more to life than comfort and stability, more to life than the mafia and work. She says she wants to find it. That she’s already filed for divorce and all I need to do is sign the paper she’s enclosed and we are finished.
My first thought is to rip the paper up, but she takes care of that thought. As perceptive as always, she promises I’ll never see her again. No matter what I do, who I employ, or what methods I take, our relationship is over from the time I read this letter.
I set the letter down, sign the divorce agreement, and then mail it myself.
Though, I don’t remember signing. I don’t remember sliding it into an envelope. I don’t remember addressing the envelope, or the walk. Perhaps it’s all a bad dream.
For the next few weeks, I keep it a secret from my children, especially Edmon and Lev. They are focused on their women and making the most of the peaceful month we’ve had as far as work is concerned.
Only Danya and Katenka seem to notice when I miss events. Danya says it’s the luxury of retirement. Katenka, however, is harder to shake.
She demands my company a month, one week, and six days after her mother left. I meet her for lunch, working hard to appear as put together as she needs me to be. I welcome her to talk about school, to tell me about some boy she’s been seeing, and to ask about her brothers.
Everything goes well until she drums her fingers on the table.
I take her hand in mine. “What is it, sweet Ana?”
“I kind of expected Mom to be here. She’s always here,” she answers in Russian. “I wanted her thoughts on my relationship.”
“If you need another’s thoughts, it’s simple. Break up with the man. He can’t possibly deserve you, anyway.”
She shoots me a glare. “You always say that.”
“And I’ve always been right, haven’t I? You know when you’re well matched. Look at your brothers. I don’t approve of their choices, but they’ve never asked for my opinion because they know,” I mumble.
“It was luck for them and I don’t want to wait until I have my whole life settled to fall in love, Papa. I want to feel it. Lev and Ed got lucky. Ed is luckier. Lilah literally fell into his arms.”
“You know more of them than I do,” I say.
I notice a woman with dark hair, long legs, and a coat walking down the street outside. My gaze holds, trying to determine if it’s Yeléna. No. She said I’d never see her again. I had her passport checked, and she left Florida.
My shoulders sag and I run my hand through my silver hair.
“I haven’t even asked about you, Papa. I’m sorry,” Ana says, reaching over.
“I don’t like all of my children shortening their names. First Vasily going by his middle name, Danya letting everyone call him so affectionately, and you ignoring both your beautiful names for some American shortening,” I scoff, ignoring the main issue.
“You never call me Ana. It makes my real name more special,” she murmurs, studying my face. “What’s wrong? You can even call me Katenka.”
A ghost of a smile pulls at my lips. “Your mother ...”
This isn’t how I should tell my children. Is there any way to tell them? Should I be crying, showing them the letter, be doing something more than getting by?
In American sitcoms, this would eviscerate a man, but perhaps we Russians are made of stronger stuff. I haven’t shed a tear, yet I haven’t smiled either. I’ve existed with more on my shoulders. Yeléna did a great deal, like a business partner, but I was fond of her, held her in the highest respect, and loved her. Even if there wasn’t passion, as she said, passion fades and comfort is left behind.
We were comfortable.
“Is she sick? Did she go back to Russia? Papa, you can’t just trail off like that!” Katenka says, almost climbing over the table.
“What’s this?”
I look up as Daniel takes in the scene, his blue eyes as cold as ever. He’s the only person on the street or in this restaurant who isn’t wearing a jacket. He glances at his watch. “Edmon and Vasily will be here as soon as they pull themselves from distractions.”
“Don’t call Sienna a distraction. I like her,” Katenka says.
My children bicker, and I almost smile. This is how it’s meant to be. My children are fierce, strong, and aware of the hardships in life. They will know that I can handle such as well. They won’t pity me, or try to get me on any of the bothersome dating sites. They’ll simply nod their heads and let it go.
As I ponder that, Edmon and Vasily arrive, without their dates. Ed glances back toward the street despite sitting down. Vasily nudges him, trying to gain that seat. “I’m older, move.”
“And my girlfriend is waiting over there. You move.”
I rub my forehead. Katenka silences all of them. “Papa has something to say about Mama. Sit down and shut up.”
My boys obey. Katenka is stronger at heart than many people, perhaps even her brothers. Granted, she used to run to me to fix every injury, to cry when storms got too loud, or because she couldn’t sleep.
Now she needs no one.
“Your mother left me. I signed the divorce papers as she requested last month. She made it very clear she was no longer interested in our marriage, but that she would be happy to see you children once she’s settled,” I say with calm
determination. It’s all the information they should need.
“I see,” Vasily answers.
Edmon nods and looks at his twin, who’s just standing there without surprise.
Katenka chokes on her water. “What!”
“I will not argue with her wishes. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. She’s been gone since I received the letter.”
“She ended a marriage in a letter!” We’re lucky no one else here speaks Russian based on her yelling.
“I am fine, sweet girl,” I assure her. “Your mother and I-”
“But you loved her and she just walked away like it was nothing! Like a contract ended in a business deal? That’s not love!”
Daniel gently touches Katenka’s head. “Things happen.”
“Don’t say that to me! If Sienna or Lilah tried to do that, you two would track them down, demand answers, convince them they’re wrong,” my daughter yells at Edmon and Vasily.
She continues complaining, yelling, ordering me to do something to get their mother back, but I’ve known, in my heart, since the moment I read the first sentence that there is nothing I could say or do to convince Yeléna to be mine again.
Our marriage hadn’t been perfect, but we’d made it into what we needed it to be.
“We had an arranged marriage, Katenka. I won’t go into the details, but we worked out better than most. I respect your mother even now. I don’t hate her. I don’t blame her. I wish her the best because it’s what she deserves. I know she feels the same for me,” I say.
“If you love each other, you don’t leave!”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” I whisper.
Edmon and Vasily nod in agreement. Danya huffs. “Look, Katenka, you’re old enough to know that all those Disney love stories aren’t meant for us or anyone. They talk about falling in love, not staying in it.”
“Every person experiences it differently. Love is rarely enough to keep a relationship, but I’m sure Papa has done everything he could have.”
“No, if you did everything you could have, she’d still be here! And you don’t even care! None of you do! Why am I the only one crying?” Katenka demands.
Daniel takes her outside as I clear my throat. Perhaps I could have been a better husband. Perhaps I could have carved out more time to be with Yeléna and to remind her of how good our life has been together. Looking at the past won’t stop this from being true, though.
As a father, I have to support my children through this. I can take care of myself later.
“This is a terrible time to announce that I’ve asked Sienna to marry me,” Vasily sighs while rubbing his forehead.
“Congratulations. We’ll celebrate,” I say before getting up and walking away.
I’m proud of him and won’t let him talk himself out of enjoying the life he’s created, which means now is my time to retreat for a while, to hold on to myself, and make sure I can be as strong as my children need me to be.
TWO
Stephanie
“Why do you keep pulling me into this, Lilah?” I demand, as I look for a better dress. Something that will promise I don’t go home alone.
“Because you’re my best friend and after James left-”
“Guys leave. At least they see themselves out and I don’t have to toss them out like trash,” I interrupt her.
Lilah adjusts on the couch. I’m happy she and Ed are doing well. But there are times, the times when I see him smile at her and hold her hand in public, the times when he comes over just to be with her for an hour before disappearing, when I wonder what was so wrong with me he couldn’t make that kind of effort.
“It’s complicated and I’m making you be around your ex, but Sienna has great friends and they come to events like this. There are plenty of other guys around. It’s not like you’re a third wheel on a date,” Lilah says, before looking down and playing with the hem of her emerald dress. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I know that. She used to tell Ed he wasn’t allowed to come over. She was putting me first and I know it caused at least one fight, considering I’m pretty sure he snuck through a window to get to her when James broke up with me. I love that my best friend is so happy.
I just wish she’d be happy with anyone else.
Nope, I have to retract that, too. Nando was the reigning champ in the asshole Olympics, considering he was a leader of the cartel. I sigh as I stare at my closet.
“If you don’t want to go, I understand. I’m not going to force you, I just ...”
“You want me there,” I fill in before grabbing a red dress that makes me look like sex on a stick. It has cut-out sides, a short hem, and shows my cleavage. It’s easy access and tempting all in one. I wiggle into it and turn in a circle for Lilah. “So I’ll be there.”
She gets up and hugs me, squeezing me. I tug on her high pony. “But this has to come down.”
“What, but I-”
“You only wear your hair up to get some from Ed and you don’t get to sneak off tonight unless I find a man to throw myself at. Plus, I know you like to rile him,” I say as I free her hair and brush it out.
Because you can get away with riling him, I think.
Once we’re both set, we arrive at some fancy venue. It almost looks like a castle. Lilah keeps pulling me along so I don’t get lost as we walk into the foyer past dozens of people smoking.
“What is everyone here for?”
“Do you remember Vasily?” Lilah asks. “He’s dating Sienna? You see them at every fundraiser you come to and that one night, when you were with James and we all went to the carnival?”
“Oh, right, right. He’s got dark hair, and she’s a ginger,” I simplify.
“He proposed. She said yes. It’s a big deal, so everyone came together to celebrate their engagement,” Lilah answers.
“Who, all of Miami and half of Russia?” I bite out.
Lilah shoots me a warning look. She likes my fiery side, but something tells me that I have to be careful. Lilah doesn’t break out the ‘teacher look’ for nothing.
I follow her until I think she actually swoons. Catching my best friend swooning means seeing Ed in a suit. I’ve always had a thing for a sharply dressed man, someone who knows how to pull off something that heightens his looks.
And seeing Ed in a suit ... brings that heartache back to the surface again. I was never invited to events like this. I never got to see him in more than street clothes. Lilah hurries forward the second they make eye contact and he kisses her in front of everyone.
My heart hurts. I didn’t love him, I know that, but I tasted the potential of more with Ed and now I have to see him all the time giving everything I wanted to my best friend. My heart might as well be ripped out and on the appetizer platter that’s being carried around.
“She’s my best friend. I approved. She’s my best friend. I approved,” I chant as I walk over.
Of course, a replica of Ed appears, because this hell wouldn’t be enough with one. The replica seems colder–a terrifying prospect for a one-night stand–but friendly enough with Lilah. She’s what matters. I’m not letting anyone bully her. Even though she’s gotten better at holding her own, she still needs a professional when it comes to passive aggressive comments. I know how to put people in their place.
“Ah, Steph, nice to see you,” Ed says, offering his hand.
I hate how genuine he is. I hate how easy all of this has been for him. Still, I force a smile. “You too ... in double vision.”
“Right, this is my twin, Dan,” Ed introduces.
“You’re my copy. I came first,” Dan says before offering me his hand.
“Breathe,” Lilah whispers in my ear as I take his hand.
“Excuse me a second.”
I wind through people until I find a bathroom. I splash water on my face to try and calm down. There’s too much going on. I should have said I had cramps or something to get out of all this ... lovey-dovey bullshit.
