Dangerous Husbands, Broken Wives [18+]

FIFTEEN: FIRST KISS

"So, what do you think of Ms. Novikoff?" Ivan's younger sister, Marina Volkov, asked with evident curiosity, her eyebrows raised so high they practically touched her forehead.

"She's good," Ivan replied, realizing that a simple "good" couldn't do justice to the breathtaking Anastasia Novikoff. She possessed long, dark hair and piercing hazel eyes that exuded a certain innocence, kindness, and thoughtfulness. There was something about her that made his entire chest radiate like the sun, igniting a desire for her that surpassed any other woman he had ever longed for. Even hours after their second meeting, he was still buzzing with the overwhelming need to see her again. His fingertips tingled with an insatiable craving to touch her soft, pale skin, to trace the delicate curve of her jaw and the tantalizing glimpse of her collarbone peeking above her modest neckline.

"Just good?" Marina prodded.

"Eta ne tvoe delo, Rina." he retorted, shaking his head, longing for her to leave so he could immerse himself in fantasies of his lips on hers. Ever since Ana revealed that she hadn't kissed anyone, he had been restless beyond imagination. "And why are you even here? Don't you have something better to do?"

[That's none of your business, Rina]

Marina rolled her eyes, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Oh, Ivan, don't be so secretive. It's written all over your face. You're smitten!"

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Just get out!"

Later that evening, Ivan left the mansion and drove straight to Novikoff's residence. It was midnight by the time he made it to their modest two floors building. At the gates, he only had to show his face and the guards were automatically opening the large black gates. Getting out of the car, he signaled the driver to wait for him and walked straight for the main door.

He rang the doorbell, patiently waiting for someone to answer. The moment he did, the lights inside turned on, flooding the area with brightness. The door slowly swung open, revealing Anastasia's father, Yuri Novikoff. At the sight of Ivan, his sleepy eyes suddenly became wide awake.

"Pakhan," Yuri stammered, slightly stumbling on his feet and appearing flushed. "Um, I don't understand. Has something happened? Are we in trouble?" Then, as if a realization struck him, he nearly gasped. "Has Ana done something foolish? I apologize on behalf of my daughter. She's my innocent little girl—"

"Just shut up, Novikoff," Ivan snapped, uninterested in hearing the man's ramblings. If it weren't for Anastasia, he wouldn't have wasted his time standing at the door. His restlessness had reached a peak, and if it weren't for the presence of the girl he desired, he would have had his men break down the door without hesitation. "I'm here to see your daughter. It would be greatly appreciated if you could guide me to her room."

"To her room?" Yuri sounded dumbfounded, his sweat now visible. "But, Pakhan, I don't think... not that you can't, but... isn't it a bit late?"

Ivan tilted his head to the side, taking a step closer to Yuri. His dark eyes showed no guilt or second thoughts. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the longer he was made to wait outside the house, the more his impatience grew.

"The last time I checked, you bartered your daughter's life for your own," Ivan retorted sharply. "She is no longer under your control. She belongs to me now. And you better not presume to tell me what I should or shouldn't do with what's rightfully mine."

Yuri Novikoff visibly trembled under Ivan's piercing gaze, his voice faltering as he struggled to find a response. The weight of Ivan's words sank in, reminding him of the deal he had made, sacrificing his daughter's freedom to ensure his own survival. He knew he had lost control over Anastasia, and now he faced the consequences of his actions.