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Dark Russian Angel: Chapter 20

OLIVIA

I woke up to the sound of dishes clattering. Sitting up, I saw Andrusha in the kitchen. He was barefoot, wearing jeans, and his shirt was unbuttoned. His hair was wet. I wondered where he had slept.

I looked around the loft. “Where’s Sasha?”

“Hanging with Viktor. Do you want a coffee?”

The edge in his voice made me sit up to shrug his shirt from yesterday over my body. I walked towards him, feeling shy in the light of day.

I squeaked when he grabbed me. My bare ass hit the top of the cool island, and then he was pulling my legs towards him. “You’re tempting the chef.”

And just like that, I felt better. “Are you cooking?”

“I’m making coffee,” his eyes were on my mouth. “How are you?”

My legs and other parts of me were tender and sore, but my heart felt so full it was overflowing. “I’m good.”

“Yeah?” A slow smile crossed over his face. I got caught by his beauty, my eyes clinging to his face.

“Is it always like that?”

He put his arms around my waist and tugged me closer to him. “It gets better.”

“How?” I couldn’t imagine anything getting better than last night.

He put his lips to my ear and nibbled. “Because I will learn your body and know exactly what you love.”

I sighed and put my arms around his neck, but stiffened when his phone rang.

He stayed standing between my legs when he answered.

“Not right now, Viktor. I need an hour.”

He listened. “No. I understand.”

He hung up, and his gaze was troubled.

“What?”

“There was an incident at your mom’s place. Ambulance and police were called. No one knows what the status is.”

I froze. “My mom?”

“Or her boyfriend. They’re not sure.”

“What happened?” My heart pounded in my chest.

“They’re not sure.”

Panic took over my body. “I have to go.” I moved to slide off the island. “I need to go to the hospital.”

He captured my shoulders in his hands. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You can’t stop me,” I shrugged his hands off my shoulders.

He captured my face in his hands. “Someone could be at the hospital, waiting for you show up.”

I paused while my mind went crazy putting the pieces together. “Did Bunko do something to my mom?”

“I don’t know, but until I find out you’re not stepping foot in that hospital.”

I worked to steady my breath. “Is she alive?”

“I don’t know.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling cold and deathly scared. “Can you find out?”

He bent down so he could look me in the eye. “I can, but I need your promise that you’ll stay here, no matter what.”

I wanted to protest and fight him on that, but I knew what he said made sense. I swallowed hard. “This is my mom.”

“I know and as soon as I figure out what is going on, I will call you.”

I felt stupid. “I don’t have a phone.”

He stepped back and started to button up his shirt. “Wait in my office. I’ll call you there.”


I sat impatiently waiting in Andrusha’s office. The worst scenarios were running through my mind. What if Bunko had found my mom and hurt her? I couldn’t bear the thought.

The phone jangled, and I rushed to grab it.

“Hello?”

Andrusha’s voice rumbled in my ear. “It’s not Bunko or the police. Your mom’s fine.”

My breath exhaled in a rush. “What happened?”

“Your mom’s boyfriend was cleaning his gun, and he shot himself in the arm.”

“Seriously?”

He paused before speaking, “This is probably a bad idea, but do you want to come and see her?”

I clung to the phone, as emotion washed over me. “Yes, please.”

“Viktor’s waiting for you downstairs.”


I watched as Viktor and another car drove me into the private parkade of the hospital. Andrusha waited for me at the doors.

I got out, looking at the sign that said staff entrance only over his head.

He grabbed my hand and swiped an employee card, making the doors open. I didn’t ask how he had gained access to an employee card, and he didn’t tell me. We walked through the hospital basement, a bleak world of cold cement hallways, flickering florescent lights, and empty stretchers. Finally, he stopped me at the service elevators.

He turned to me and spoke with intensity. “Whatever happens—I don’t care what—you need to do what I say.”

“Okay.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

The doors slid open, and we went up four floors. When we stepped off, no one paid any attention to us. He grabbed my arm and steered me down the hall before opening the door of a hospital room.

My mom stood beside an empty, made-up bed.

She waited to speak until Andrusha stepped out of the room. “You came.”

I wanted to rush to her, but instead, I stood looking at her, feeling grateful she was alive. “Are you okay?”

“They took Danny to surgery to put a plate in his arm.”

I didn’t want to talk about Danny. “Okay.”

She looked at the door. “I see you didn’t take my advice.”

“Mom.” I walked to the window of the room and looked down at the courtyard below. I felt jittery. I had rushed her with emotions only to have the same old conversation. I wondered why I bothered.

“He’s just like every other man out there, Olivia. He’s gonna love you and leave you.”

I looked over at my mom. I remembered her when my parents were together. She had been so young, in love and happy. When my dad went to prison, overnight she became harder and more bitter.

“Please don’t talk about Andrusha.”

She smoothed the fabric on the bed. “You don’t know these types like I do. You don’t know what men are capable of.”

“Yes, I do,” I cried, turning to her. “I know what men are capable of. I think I’ve seen it all. But not everyone’s the same.”

She pointed at the door. “You think he’s different? That guy has dangerous written all over him.”

“What exactly do you think you’re doing here, Mom?”

She stepped towards me and spoke with brutal honesty. “I know I haven’t been the greatest parent. And I haven’t been there for you that much since I met Danny, but you can do better than me. I don’t want you following in my footsteps.”

Why couldn’t she see that Andrusha was different from other men? “You have no idea what kind of person he is. He’s a better person than anyone I know.”

“No, darling, you have no idea what kind of person he is. That’s my point. You only see the good in people.”

Tears stung my eyes. “Something you’ve benefited from my entire life.”

She threw her hands up. “Don’t come crying to me.”

“Don’t worry. I stopped doing that a long time ago.”

We stood there in misery together. When she shook her head and turned away from me, I strode across the room. I opened the door to see Viktor and Andrusha leaning against the walls, waiting. Emotions were charging so heavily through me, I almost couldn’t bear it. Without speaking, I started to walk back towards the service elevators. I felt Andrusha’s hand lightly wrap around the back of my neck.

“You okay?”

I spun towards him and pointed back at the room. “She’s impossible to talk to sometimes.”

“She’s your mom.”

I swallowed. “She had nothing nice to say about anyone.”

“Who exactly were you talking about?”

“You.”

He started to laugh.

I felt bad. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He bent down and kissed me on the mouth. “She didn’t make her feelings for me secret.”

I slid my hand into his. “I’m sorry you went to all this effort to help me see her and then, within three minutes, I get into a huge fight with her.”

He squeezed my hand. “You know what makes me feel better when shit like that happens?”

I looked up at him, and lust washed over me. Sex haze back in place. “What?”

“The shooting range.”

I shook my head and spoke the truth. “No, that will not make me feel better.”

“It might.”


Shooting a gun until my arms ached did not make me feel better, but having Andrusha stand so close behind me while I practiced did. I was a terrible shot. I never actually hit the target, but I did hit the paper three times.

“You’re getting better.”

“Said the most optimistic man in the world. Why do you want me to know how to shoot a gun?”

“Everyone needs to know how to do that.”

“No, because I never plan on shooting someone.”

He didn’t lift his eyes off the gun. “Being prepared increases the success rate of any activity.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes knowing how to handle a gun, and looking like you know how to shoot it, can prevent a gunfight in the first place.”

I didn’t want to talk about the part of his life that involved guns and shooting, police and crime. I didn’t understand it, and I feared it. I understood that if Andrusha thought he could defeat Bunko, it meant he was deep into this world. He kept that part of himself very private, shielding me from almost everything he did. And I willingly looked the other way, because it was easier on both of us to not acknowledge it.

And it wasn’t like I was coming into this situation without my own baggage. I was center stage in this mess with Bunko. That wasn’t my choice, but it was still my reality.

“How are you doing?” Andrusha’s eyes searched my face.

“In regards to?” He could have been asking about last night, the fight with my mom, or learning to shoot a gun.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. “The good part.”

I looked at him wondering if things would be different between us. I felt different. Would that change things? “I’m good.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Andrusha did that a lot. He held onto his thoughts a lot more than most people. At times he was impossible to read.

We walked back across the bay, and he stopped walking.

I looked back at him. “What?”

“I have work to do. I need to go out.” He looked genuinely annoyed at the idea that he needed to work.

“Thanks for your help with my mom.”

His blue eyes pierced mine. “I’m not sure what time I’m going to get back.”

I wanted to tell him that if he wanted to wake me, he could, but I didn’t have the nerve. Instead, I gave him a quick smile and moved up to the loft alone.


I woke up to the light of the bathroom shining through the crack under the door. I looked over at the clock: 2:26 a.m. I listened for the shower but didn’t hear anything.

I tapped on the door.

“Olivia, don’t come in here. Shut the door.”

I grabbed the doorknob to close the door, and it was slick with something sticky. I turned my hand over and in the dim light, I saw blood streaked across my palm. Sheer panic had me pushing open the door.

He leaned against the vanity. His shirt was off. Blood trickled out of a cut on his arm, and more blood trickled from a wound in his chest.

“Have you been stabbed?” I asked woodenly. I was in shock.

He avoided my gaze. “More like lightly grazed.”

His face was filthy, covered in dirt and streaks of blood. His eye was starting to swell, and his knuckles were a mess.

I worked to keep my voice calm. “By a knife? Do you need stitches?”

“I need to clean this and then bandage it. That’s all.”

I didn’t even ask if he needed help. I washed my hands and stood before him. “What do you want me to do?”

I watched as he cleaned both wounds without flinching. And then I helped him bandage the cuts. I knew he was hurting, but I didn’t know how to help him. I could only imagine what he had gone through to get this dirty and bloody. I felt scared for him, for us.

He stood up wearily and reached into the shower to turn it on. He didn’t say a word when I stripped down beside him and followed him in. With his eyes shut, he stood under the water as dirt and blood streamed off his body. I stepped closer, picked up a washcloth and a bar of soap. Starting with one of his hands, I began to wash.

He opened his eyes and watched me, but he never said a word or moved a muscle as I carefully removed all traces of whatever horror had happened to him. When I was done, he lifted me by the ass with his big hands, so my legs were wrapped around his waist and my arms were clinging to his neck. We didn’t kiss. We didn’t speak. We held each other beneath the warmth of that shower. I could feel the hardness of his cock between my legs, but he made no effort to take this past a hug.

When he moved to put me down, I tightened my legs around his waist.

His eyes were as dark as midnight when they stared into mine. I could see him mentally fighting himself, but I knew he needed this. He needed this as much as I did.

“Please, Andrusha,” I said softly.

He spun me around, slamming my back against the cold shower tiles. His mouth devoured mine. My arms wrapped more tightly around his shoulders as his hands lifted my hips, and then I felt his big cock push deep inside me.

This. This was becoming my entire world. This was the only thing that felt better than dance.

His hips thrust hard, driving himself into me, pounding me against the wall. He was wild and out of control, fucking me with powerful, long strokes, using me to forget whatever had happened tonight.

My orgasm was fierce, taking over my entire body. He gave a guttural cry against my neck as he shuddered his release into me.

Breathing hard, I clung to his big, wet shoulders.

He lifted his head. “I should do a better job of leaving you alone.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Instead of explaining his cryptic comment, he tucked me into bed. He sat on the edge, wearing only a towel.

“You should go to sleep.”

“Come and join me.”

He leaned down to kiss me. “I can’t.”

When I woke up in the morning, there were no cuddles, no coffee, and no Andrusha.


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