Filthy Lies (Akopov Bratva Book 2)

The morning of Sofiya’s christening feels surreal. One of those dreams where everything is normal but slightly off-kilter at the same time.

I stand before the mirror in our bedroom as I pluck and primp at the ivory dress I finally settled on. It’s modest enough for church but still elegant.

My eyes are another story. They look tired, probably because that’s exactly what I am.

I barely slept last night. Nerves and anticipation kept me tossing until Vince finally growled, pulled me against his chest, and ordered me to rest.

He’s never been one to take his own advice, though. He’d been up at dawn, checking security protocols, confirming routes, doing whatever it is Bratva husbands do before their daughter’s christening.

“You look beautiful.”

I turn to find Vince in the doorway. He’s dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that makes his blue eyes impossibly bright. He’s freshly shaved, though he’s kept the beard I’ve grown to love, just trimmed it to perfection.

“Thanks.” I drop the second pearl earring back onto the vanity. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He comes to me and picks up where I left off with the earring fastening. “Everything’s under control.”

“Is it?” I gesture vaguely toward the window, where an extra squadron of armed men patrol our property. “Because this doesn’t exactly feel like a normal christening day.”

“It’s not.” His face remains unreadable. “But Sofiya will be protected, no matter what.”

I sigh. “I know. I just… Sometimes, I just wish we could do normal things.”

Instead of responding, Vince reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box. “I have something for you.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. “A gift? Now?”

“It seemed appropriate.” He holds the box out to me.

I take it, feeling its weight in my palm. When I open it, my breath catches.

It’s a necklace unlike anything I’ve ever seen. A delicate platinum chain suspends a pendant shaped like a double-pronged trident—the Akopov family crest—encrusted with tiny diamonds. At its center sits a brilliant sapphire, the exact shade of Vince’s eyes, surrounded by smaller emeralds that match the color of mine.

“Vince, it’s stunning.”

He moves behind me and drapes it into place around my neck. His fingers brush against my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms.

“I had it made especially for you.”

The pendant rests against my collarbone, catching the light. A dozen little sunbeams go arcing out in every direction.

“I don’t know what to say,” I mumble, cheeks hot.

“Say you’ll wear it today.” His hands rest on my shoulders. “And every day after.”

Something in his tone makes me turn to face him. “Every day? It’s a bit formal for diaper changes and midnight feedings, don’t you think?”

A small smile plays at his lips, but doesn’t reach his eyes. “Humor me.”

I study his face, seeing the tension he’s trying to hide. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Vince’s jaw twitches. “The necklace contains a tracking device.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s state-of-the-art. Undetectable by standard security measures. Military-grade GPS.”

I touch the pendant, suddenly seeing it differently. “So it’s not really a family heirloom? It’s a monitoring device disguised as a gift?”

“It’s both.” His hands find mine. “I simply had it modified.”

“Jesus, Vince.” I pull away, pacing across the room. “You couldn’t just give me a normal present? Would that really have been so hard?”

“Yes.” His voice is unapologetic. “Because I will use every tool, every resource, every possible advantage to keep you and Sofiya safe.”

“You give ‘paranoid’ a whole new meaning.”

He follows me and pins me against a wall. I huff in irritation, but he doesn’t budge. “Rowan, listen to me. After what happened—after finding your blood on our floor, after nearly losing you both⁠—”

My anger deflates. I’ve seen Vince terrifying. I’ve seen him commanding. I’ve seen him tender.

But I’ve rarely seen him afraid.

“Vince.” I cup his cheek. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“No.” My thumb traces his jawline. “But I can promise to fight like hell to stay with you. And that’s just as good.”

His eyes hold mine, ocean-deep blue filled with everything he struggles to say.

“I’m scared, too, you know,” I admit softly. “Every day. For you, for our girl, for myself even. But I can’t live in that fear.” I touch my forehead to his. “We can’t. Or what’s the point of any of this?”

His hands slide to my waist, steadying us both. “The point is standing right here.”

“Then let’s focus on that today.” I pull back to meet his eyes. “Not on threats or dangers or what-ifs. Just on our daughter, and this moment, and how far we’ve come.”

Something in him softens, just slightly. “I’ll try.”

I reach up to tap the necklace with a fingertip. “I’ll wear it. Not because I need to be tracked, but because it means something to you.”

With a relieved grin, he bends down to kiss me—a gentle press of lips that carries all his complicated gratitude.

“I know I’m not easy to love,” he murmurs against my mouth.

“No.” I smile. “You’re not. But you’re worth it.”

I kiss him again, deeper this time, letting all the morning’s tension dissolve into something warmer, more urgent. His hands tighten on my waist as mine slide beneath his jacket to feel the solid strength of him beneath.

“Mrs. Akopov,” he growls, “we have a christening to attend.”

“We have time,” I counter, fingers working at his tie.

“Do we?”

“For this? Always.”

His mouth finds the pulse point below my ear, sending fire racing through my veins. I realize we’re both seeking the same reassurance.

We’ve said it with words.

But there are other ways to get a point across.

I drop to my knees without warning, letting my ivory dress pool around me like spilled milk. The plush carpet cushions my descent as I work his belt loose with determined fingers.

His eyes darken, pupils expanding until there’s no blue left at all. “Rowan.” My name is a warning on his lips. “We don’t have time⁠—”

“Shut up,” I command, shocking us both. “For once, you’re not in charge.”

His cock springs free, already hard and heavy in my palm. I look up at him through my lashes, maintaining eye contact as I take him into my mouth without preamble.

The sharp intake of his breath is all the encouragement I need.

I’ve learned what he likes. How to use my tongue against the sensitive underside. How to hollow my cheeks and apply just the right pressure. How to take him deep until tears spring to my eyes and my throat constricts around him.

His hands find my hair, careful not to disturb my styled curls but desperate for something to anchor him.

I feel powerful here, on my knees before the most dangerous man I know. His body trembles, but he lets me do as I please.

The only time Vincent Akopov ever truly surrenders control.

I pull back and swirl my tongue around the tip. “You’re always protecting everyone,” I whisper against his heated flesh. “Always planning. Always three steps ahead.” I take him deeper, feeling him hit the back of my throat. “Let go. Just for a minute.”

A groan tears from his chest as his fingers tighten in my hair. I taste the salt of him, feel the throb of his pulse against my tongue. His vulnerability is intoxicating.

I work him relentlessly, using every trick I’ve learned to drive him to the edge. His thighs shake beneath my hands, and I know he’s close.

“Rowan,” he gasps. “I’m going to⁠—”

I dig my nails into his thighs and take him impossibly deeper, giving him permission without words. He comes with a strangled sound, his body rigid as he empties down my throat.

I swallow every drop.

When I finally release him, his chest is heaving, his face flushed with rare color. I rise gracefully, smoothing down my dress as if I’ve merely been adjusting the hem.

“Better?” I ask, reaching up to straighten his tie.

He catches my wrist, bringing my hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to my palm with such reverence it makes my heart stutter.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmurs.

“Nothing good,” I reply with a wicked smile. “But maybe that’s the point.”

He laughs as the last of the tension finally leaves his shoulders. “We’re going to be late.”

“Worth it.” I check my lipstick in the mirror, reapplying where needed. “Besides, they can’t start without us.”

As I turn to leave, his hand catches mine, squeezing once. No other words are needed. Just that.

A sharp knock interrupts the sweet moment. Arkady’s voice comes through the door, strained and urgent. “Vin, we have a situation. Solovyov men have been spotted near the church. And Agent Carver’s vehicle was identified two blocks away.”

The calm aftermath shatters instantly. Vince’s face hardens back into the mask I know too well.

“We’ll be right out,” he calls. He turns to look at me. “It was nice while it lasted.”

“They came to a christening?” I ask, incredulous.

“So much for ‘some lines can’t be crossed,’” he mutters in disgust.

“Do we cancel?”

“No.” Vince’s voice goes hard. “We proceed exactly as planned. If we cancel, they win. Unless…” He looks at me and frowns.noveldrama

I want to cancel. Hell, I want to wrap up in his arms and his scent and stay here forever. So long as I have him and my baby, we’re all okay.

But I can’t do that. And keeping those things requires action.

So there will be no hiding for us today. No letting office doors close in our face, metaphorically speaking.

“No,” I say. “Fuck them. We go out with our chins high.”

Vince’s smile is delicious. “That’s my girl.”

I cross to Sofiya’s crib where she’s been snoozing in her christening gown, unaware of the storm brewing around her. As I lift her into my arms, she blinks awake, those blue eyes—Vince’s eyes—focusing on me with perfect trust.

“Ready for your big day, little one?” I whisper, kissing her forehead.

She yawns and snuggles against me, the warmth of her tiny body grounding me in what really matters.

Vince appears beside us, one hand on Sofiya’s head, the other at the small of my back. “Let’s go introduce our daughter to God,” he says. “And remind everyone else who her father is.”