But if I had known all the marks he had left on Elena’s psyche…oh, his death would’ve been lengthy and bloody.
It would never have been spoken about, only whispered.
Regretting the past was a waste of energy, even if picturing Thaddeo screaming and howling did always lift my mood.
Elena turned her head to me, irritation flashing over her features. “What are you looking at, Konstantin?”
I felt a smile grow up my face. “You, of course.”
She sniffed.
I leaned in close to her ear, resting my palm on her lower back. Beneath my grip, I felt a shudder rattle through her. My smile only grew wider.
“In specifics,” I murmured softly, “I am looking at you and remembering our time together in the banya earlier.”
Her nostrils flared.
The feel of Elena was still prominent in my mind. The noises, and scent, and wetness, were constants in my brain. It had been enjoyable, everything I had thought it would be—besides Artyom’s irritating but understandable interruption.
The picture of her leaning back, neck tipped, bare breasts visible and nipples puckered, scored my mind. No other woman, no other sex, had been as pleasurable or memorable as eating Elena’s pussy out in the banya.
But it had been but a taste…quite literally. There was still so much more to discover, to own and devour. Noises I had yet to elicit and reactions I had still to draw.
Patience, I told myself, trying to cool the heating in my blood, the hardening of my cock. You have plenty of time to enjoy Elena.
We reached the vault after several minutes of stairs, secured doors, and elevators. My bodyguards were growing more and more antsy as I went through more unfamiliar terrain. However, the only threat was the bank manager—and in some ways, Elena.
But I wouldn’t let any of my men lay their hands on her.
“Here we are,” he muttered, gesturing forward.
Before us was a huge steel door, a bright keyboard to the left. It looked three bricks dense, safe and secure. In the middle of the door, an emblem was visible. An eagle in flight with a snake between its claws, with the Falcone family motto beneath. Nulli prœda—A prey to no one.
Except to me.
My smile grew wider and I tapped the emblem, “This can be changed?”
“Yes, sir.” The bank manager glanced nervously at the door but didn’t comment anything else.
I fished the ”key” out of my pocket. A few clicks revealed a set of numbers. Elena advised me that they would change every 9 minutes, in accordance with the vault’s lock.
I typed in the PIN. Within seconds, there was a loud heaving noise, like the door had lifted its weight, and the pad glowed green.
It had been so easy—too easy. Interrogating had led us nowhere, stalking and spying had not gotten us any closer.
But Elena… She had gotten us into the vault in a single day.
My bodyguards hovered as I spun the rotary valve, and the door released.
Inside was just as chaotic and fulfilling as I had expected. Boxes upon boxes, files upon files, digital audios and video recordings. Decades of surveillance and scouting had allowed the Falcones to fill this vault with all the information they knew. This vault was priceless, and not only because of all the blackmail.
Family jewels—stolen—were kept locked up tight but accessible. I could see the shine to them through their glass cases, easily guessing their no doubt monstrous value.
Elena followed me in, eyes searching the place wildly. I knew she wasn’t seeing what I was, but instead her eyes were peering into the past.
“Elena,” I called. Her eyes moved to mine, clarity filling them. “You don’t have to come into the vault if you do not want.”
It was meant to be a polite offer, but she curled up her lip. “I’m fine.”
I hadn’t expected any other reaction.
I bowed my head, hiding my smile.
Roman whistled loudly as he entered the vault and looked mighty pleased with himself. “You see this, Boss? This info would let us take anything we wanted.”
“Anything you wanted?” Elena repeated.
“I have told you before, Roman, and will say so once more, we are not usurping any other families.”
My byki shrugged. “Yeah, but we could.”
“Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should,” Elena told him. “The manpower and wealth needed to take over another organization’s territory takes time to cultivate.”
Roman snapped his glare to her. “What do you know about manpower and wealth, little widow?”
“Roman,” I warned. Elena could stand up for herself, but the nickname little widow made my molars grind.
Elena