Undercover in His bed

Axel.

The basement reeked of fear, piss, and the coppery tang of blood. Shadows clung to the corners like cobwebs, thick and oppressive. In the center of the room, Sergey was strapped to a chair, his face a mess of bruises and cuts.

I circled him slowly, the rage inside me a living, breathing thing. The poker in my hand glowed a dull orange, wisps of heat shimmering off the tip.

"I trusted you, Sergei," I said, my voice a low rasp. "And you betrayed me."

Sergey made a noise halfway between a whimper and a groan. "Boss, please... I can explain-"

I backhanded him across the face, splitting his lip. "Explain? What's there to fucking explain? You went behind my back, you piece of shit. Tried to sell me out to the highest bidder."

His eyes widened, bulging slightly. Blood and spittle flew from his mouth as he shook his head frantically. "No, no, it wasn't like that! I swear, I never-"

"Don't fucking lie to me!" I roared. The poker hovered an inch from his face, and the stink of his fear ratcheted up a notch. "You know what the price is for betrayal, Sergey. You knew, and you did it anyway."

He broke then, sobbing and pleading. But I was long past the point of mercy. The animal in me hungered for blood, and it would have it.

I pressed the searing metal to his chest, the sizzle of flesh and his high, agonized scream a twisted kind of music. The shadows in the room deepened, drawn to the violence like moths to a flame.

My men watched in grim silence, their faces carved from stone. They knew not to interfere, not to question. I was judge, jury, and executioner. The only law that mattered.

Until Roman stepped forward, his eyes hard as flint. "You just fucking got out of jail, bratan!" he snapped, ripping the poker from my hand. "Is this really how you want to spend your first day of freedom?"

I rounded on him, seeing red. He was the only one with the balls to challenge me like this, and it was only because of our history that I didn't rip his fucking throat out.

"I'll stop when he's suffered enough," I snarled.

But Roman didn't back down. He knew the darkness in me, had seen it up close too many times to count. And yet here he was, still trying to pull me back from the brink.

He was my opposite: fair to my dark, with pale gray eyes instead of blue. But our bodies were built for battle, covered in tattoos that told our stories. His showed his loyalty and courage to our cause, even when it pushed me to the brink of anger.

"Go after Viktor," he said, his voice hard. "That's where your real anger should be directed."

I took a step toward him, fists bunched. But he didn't back down. He'd been my stand-in for far too long, and he knew me better. In that moment, I realized just how lucky I was to have him by my side. But that thought alone didn't ease the scorching rage in my chest.

"Don't you dare mention that name under my roof again, mudak," I glared at him.

He glared right back, completely uncowed.

"It's not even been twenty-four hours, and you're already at each other's throats," a voice cut through the tension, causing a frown to rest on my face. That voice...

The stocky shape of the third member of our triumvirate emerged through the door that led to the basement. Nikolai Orlov had a frown etched on his face, not one of anger, I knew him well enough to know that was perpetual.

"Don't you start on me too, Nikolai," I growled; it was a clear warning, yet he ignored it.

"I don't know what started this standoff, but listen to Roman, Axel. You know he's the only one of us who ever makes sense."

Nikolai's presence filled the room as he entered it. Hardly surprising; at 6'5", he was a monster of a man. Cold blue eyes stared out from a face that might have been too pretty if it wasn't for the scars that marred it. One of the hazards of his job as an enforcer.

"He's not making sense now," I muttered dryly. Nearby, I could hear Sergey squirming in the bonds, obviously in pain. He was a traitor, after all.

"Roman kept the business afloat for four years." Nikolai didn't need to remind me, but of course, he did anyway. "You don't know how much of a shit show it was when you weren't here-"

"And you think I was sipping wine in jail?" I snapped, not letting him finish. "My father's body had barely begun to grow cold in the grave before my uncle started plotting with my men to take over. I couldn't even grieve properly."

"You shouldn't dwell in the past, Axel," Roman said, and I glared at him again.

"What do you know of grief?" I barked.

"Focus on the good," Roman continued, "you have a roof over your head and a business to call your own. Everything you see here belongs to you now, bought with the profits of your own business. This is your legacy we've been building while you've been away, Axel. Viktor can never have a claim to it."

I stared at him for a moment. "What is this nonsense you're spewing? I have a legacy already, and it was stolen from me. I will not rest till I have reclaimed the entire Yakov fortune from that thieving pig. The entire Chicago underworld is mine; that is my legacy. I will not settle for the fucking crumbs that are left over," I snarled.

Roman shook his head. "The last time Viktor came at us, you ended up in jail, bratok."

"You're not my brother!" I snapped.

"Really?" he asked. "Because Nikolai and I shed blood for you, for your legacy. Took bullets that left scars that will never fade. And that was when Viktor had only a fraction of the backing of the entire Yakov militia. Think about what he'll do with all that power now," Roman said.

Nikolai nodded in agreement. "But enough of this," he added. "You can argue about it later." He motioned for me to follow him. "Roman and I busted our asses to throw you a welcome back party upstairs. I even brought in a pretty blonde to help you break your four-year celibacy streak. She's waiting now with pussy hot and steamy for you." He grimaced. "You don't want to waste all that with this trash."

"I'm busy," I snapped, then stopped short as a loud bang shattered the air.

A sudden force caused Sergey's head to snap back with a loud crack, the impact spattering his skull against the wall behind him. He went completely still, blood dripping from the back of his head onto the floor beneath the chair.

"There. Looks like your schedule just cleared up," Nikolai said, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of what had just happened.

I wanted to argue, to push back against their demands. But I could feel the anger inside me starting to ebb, replaced by a sense of weariness that was all-consuming. It was as if the fight had gone from me, and I was left feeling strangely deflated.

I watched Nikolai and Roman exchange glances, in that moment, all I saw was a shared bond.

"Come, Axel," Roman said, his voice softening. "Let's go upstairs and celebrate your homecoming."

I groaned but did what he said, falling in step with them as we left the basement. I was numb inside, my head reeling from the rush of rage I had just succumbed to.

We moved through the lavish halls of my mansion, and I admired the luxurious decor Roman and Nikolai had set up while I was in jail. Crystal chandeliers reflected a warm light over the room, and paintings and sculptures spoke of my wealth and power. As we navigated the endless rooms and passageways, I was awed by their efforts but remained steadfast in my goal to reclaim what was mine.

The party was in full swing as I stepped through the door of the grand ballroom. Laughter and conversation mixed with the tinkling of glasses and the swish of silk as guests mingled. I was accosted almost immediately.

"Axel Yakov," a woman purred. "You must be so... pent up after all that time locked away. I'd love to help you release that tension." The flirtatious vixen sidled up to me, her fingers trailing like fire along my arm, pushing her huge tits toward my chest.

My body was fucking hungry for touch, for carnal pleasure. Four goddamn years in jail had left me starved and desperate for intimacy, and I couldn't fucking deny that my hormones were in sexual overdrive. But there wasn't a chance in hell I was screwing this woman.

What had gotten into me?

"Go find someone else," I snarled, my words as sharp as frostbite.

She gaped at me, taken aback by my frigid dismissal. Desperate to save face, she forced a smile and sauntered away, setting her sights on some other unsuspecting prey.

The bass thumped through my body as I moved through the party, feeling the eyes of countless women on me. They were drawn to the danger that surrounded me, the hint of violence that lingered in the air. I should have been reveling in the attention, drowning in pussy. Instead, I made my way through the throng, avoiding engagement.

Finally, I stood in a corner, observing the cattle parade. The mansion was filled with the rich and powerful of the city. The glamorous set, the beautiful people... But my attention was drawn to a clumsy waitress who kept stumbling over her own feet.

I coughed out a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Nikolai asked as he joined me.

"Her." I grinned at him, nodding toward the waitress. "That girl over there. She's a walking disaster."

Roman chuckled as he slid up beside us and peered in the direction I'd been staring for the past half hour. "Don't tell me you've found yourself another clumsy bitch."

I shot him a look of warning.

Nikolai shook his head. "You can't deny it, Axel. You've always had a soft spot for the underdogs."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny the truth of his words. Maybe it was because I knew what it was like to be underestimated, to be counted out before the game had even begun.

But as I watched the waitress stumble and nearly drop her tray again, I could feel something stirring inside me that went beyond just entertainment. Maybe it was the fact that I'd been locked up for four years with nothing but my own hand for company. I watched her as she made her way around the room, her tray of drinks shaking in her hands.

"She looks like a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time," I muttered. But there was something alluring about the way she moved, like she was dancing to a song only she could hear.

Roman raised an eyebrow. "So, you're saying you have a thing for baby giraffes?"

I ignored him and crossed the room toward the waitress, my eyes roaming over her tight little body. She might be a walking disaster, but I couldn't deny the appeal of those slender legs, that pert ass. Four years in prison had left me hungry for a woman's touch, and she was looking more and more like the perfect appetizer to take the edge off.

Well, well, well. It seemed I had just found the cure for a very dull evening.

***

Aria.

48 hours before the party.

I groaned as the sack came off my face. My head was ringing, my eyes bleary. The world was a blur of indistinct shapes and colors.

Dear God! My head felt like it had been split open.

Memories came flooding back - leaving the coffee shop, bitter espresso on my tongue. Walking through the alleyway to my second job at the mall, it was quiet, too quiet. Suddenly, I felt the prickling sensation down my neck that told me I was being watched.

I had turned around, the fear already starting to rise in my chest. And then everything had gone dark.

My hands were tied, but not tight enough to be painful. I adjusted to a more comfortable position on the creaking chair. Realization suddenly dawned...

Someone kidnapped me! Oh God, please!

"I think you broke the doll," I heard a voice say. The sound startled me, and I jolted my head upright, my eyes scanning the room for the source.

My captor emerged from the shadows, draining the color from my face. He was tall and menacing, with gray hair and piercing eyes that seemed to see into my soul. The cruel curve of his lips hinted at his enjoyment of pain.

He approached with a sinister confidence, making me want to scream and escape. But I stayed silent, paralyzed with fear.

Don't show him you're afraid!

He crouched down to my level, his eyes scanning my face, and I tried to look anywhere but at him.He brushed away a few black strands of hair and his hand lingered on my skin briefly.

"Don't be afraid, pretty doll," he whispered. "No one is going to hurt you..."

I could feel the lie in his words, my heart pounding as I tried to figure out what to do. His eyes showed a craving for power and control, sickening me.

"Unless you don't do what we ask you to," he added, a sly smile twisting his mouth.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to show any weakness. But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

I didn't know how I was going to get out of this alive.

I glanced around the room, looking for any sign of a way out. The windows were too high, the door was guarded. There was no way I could escape on my own. I could feel my heart racing, and I tried to keep my breathing even, but it was hard with the menace he exuded.

"I don't know who you guys are, but clearly, you've got the wrong person," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Do we?" he asked, standing up to face the two men behind him. "She says we have the wrong person."

"No. I'm certain," I said firmly. "You have the wrong person. I have no money. There's no point in kidnapping me." I tried to reason with him.

He just smirked and stepped closer until I could feel the heat emanating from his body. As he reached out to touch me, I flinched away, but he caught my cheeks in a tight grip. He pulled me closer.

"You're wrong, pretty doll. You're worth everything to me," he murmured in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. I recoiled in horror.

"Get away from me, you freak! What do you want from me?" My voice grew shrill as I twisted my head away.

"A feisty one." He chuckled. "All in due time, my dear."

I struggled to free myself from the ropes, but it was no use. I was completely at his mercy.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "What the hell do you want from me?"

He regarded me with a glint in his eyes. Malice rolled off him in waves.

"Ah! Yes, how terribly impolite of me," he drawled, savoring the moment. "My name is Viktor, but around these parts, people call me the Big Boss."

His laughter chilled me, a sinister reminder of his power over me. Yet, the contemptuous sneer on his face made my blood boil.

What a narcissistic bastard!

"You, my dear," he continued, his tone dripping with menace, "are merely a pawn in a much larger game. Nothing personal, of course."

"What game? What are you talking about?" Confusion joined my fear now.

He smirked. "You'll find out soon enough."

This must be a mistake. It has to be!

"You must have mistaken me for someone else!" My voice trembled slightly, but I forced myself not to waver as I met his gaze.

"So, you're not Aria Blackwood?" The man's words hit me like a freight train. He knew my name.

How? I never told him.

Panic rose in my chest as he continued to speak. "You're not Aria Blackwood," he said, "and Leo Blackwood isn't your brother?" His voice was laced with amusement. He was toying with me. He leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming as he saw me shrink back. "You're not as clever as you think you are."

I looked at him in shock, my mouth hanging open.

Nilo, what the hell have you done?

His sinister chuckle sent a chill down my spine, as if he was relishing in my fear. The sound echoed through the small, dimly lit room, filling it with an ominous energy that made my heart race faster.

"Let me tell you a story about yourself, Aria Blackwood. You're 23 years old, and you work three jobs just to take care of your sick grandmother and support your drug-dealing brother. You work as a waitress, a sales associate at a department store, and a caregiver for a wealthy family. Did I miss anything important?"

I swallowed hard, my mind reeling. How could he know all of this? And why was he telling me?

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to steady my voice. "Well, thanks for the goddamn life story recap," I sneered. "I mean, you've got the basics down, but did you have to make it sound so dramatic?"

I forced bravado into my reply, despite the panic bubbling in my chest. "I'm not sure if you're auditioning for a soap opera or something. Just tell me what you want already."

If my attitude annoyed him, it didn't show. Instead, he let out a laugh. "Let's just say I have a vested interest in you and your family. And I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want."

My head began to spin as I tried to figure out what this was all about. "I haven't done anything wrong," I managed to say.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I couldn't let them see my weakness. It would be like blood in the water with a hungry shark – one drop, and I'd be devoured.

Keep your guard up!

His rough, calloused hands grabbed my chin and forced my head up, exposing my neck. I gasped for air as he clamped his hand around my throat, tightening his fingers. I struggled, but it only made things worse. Panic consumed me as my vision blurred and I felt light-headed.

"You're a fighter, I'll give you that," he said, amusement in his voice. "But you're in way over your head."

I glared at him, somehow finding a kernel of courage. "Let go of me," I rasped out, my voice hoarse from lack of oxygen.

He chuckled, his grip tightening even further. "I like it when they're feisty," he said, and I felt a shiver run through me.

Suddenly, he released me with a hard shove. My head dropped back, and I sucked in sweet air.

He turned to the two men behind him. "Bring him out."

I watched in horror as they dropped my battered brother on the floor next to me. He groaned in pain, and anger and fear washed over me.

"You see, your brother stole from me," the man said with a sneer. "So much that you and all of your jobs would take nearly a decade to repay me."

"Fuck you!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "Let go of my brother! Let go of him, you bastard!"

I struggled to catch my breath as the man studied me, his eyes calculating. I knew I had to be prepared for whatever he would do next.

"Alright, Aria," he began, his voice low and menacing. "I'll make you a deal. You help me with a little task, and I'll let your brother go. In fact, I'll even forget his debt."

My heart pounded as I stared at him, clenching my fists in anger. But I knew I needed to stay composed if I wanted to save my brother.

"Wh-what do you need me to do? I'll do anything. Please." I knew he could hear the desperation in my voice, but the sight of my brother's unmoving form was tearing away the last of my defenses.

"You're going to spy for me, little doll," he said mockingly. "There's this man, Axel Yakov. I need your help to keep tabs on him. I have a feeling he might be coming for my throne now that he's out of..." He trailed off for a moment, a cruel smile dancing on the edge of his lips. "His cage," he finished.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I snapped. I looked up at him with a fierce rage burning in my chest, using it as fuel to face any task he threw at me. I held on to the feeling, wondering where I fit into all this.

"I need you to infiltrate his house and bug all the important rooms there. Specifically, his private office that's attached to his bedroom," Viktor said.

"And why can't any of your lackeys do it? Why kidnap an innocent woman and drag her into your sick games?" I asked as I shot a glare at the two men behind him.

"Because," he started as if the reason was very obvious, "if Axel catches an intruder, they won't make it out of his house alive. Girls like you are expendable; my men are not."

"What?" I whispered, uncertain I heard him right. "What kind of man would do that?"

"Let's just say he's in the business of crime," my captor said coolly.

Oh, God. He wants me to spy on a mobster!

"But...but how am I supposed to do that?" I blurted.

"He'll be having a celebration at his estate in two days. Sneak into the party. Bug his bedroom and office and get the fuck out. If Axel finds out you're spying for me, he'll end your life right there on the spot."

"I-I..." My words failed me as I heard his requests.

This is a suicide mission!

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "If I do this for you, if I risk my life to spy for you, you have to promise me one thing," I said, my voice shaking but firm.

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by my audacity. "And what is that?"

"You let my brother go...unharmed. You leave him alone, and you never come near him or my family again. That's the only way I'll do this."

For a moment, Viktor looked like he was weighing his options, and I held my breath, hoping he'd agree to my terms.

Finally, he smirked and nodded. "Fine. Do this for me, and your brother goes free. But remember, you better not fail, or the consequences will be dire."

"You keep your word, and I'll keep mine," I said firmly, even though my stomach was churning with anxiety. But if it meant ensuring my brother's safety, I didn't care what kind of mission this was – I'd walk straight into the fucking lion's den without a second thought.

"Deal," said Viktor. "Now let me tell you what the plan is..."

***

Aria.

12 hours before the party.

The car door swung open, and I stumbled out, my ankles wobbling in the damn torture devices Viktor called shoes. Biting back a curse, I straightened up, ignoring the burn in my soles. The driver smirked, clearly enjoying my struggle. Asshole.

"Get moving," he snarled, his eyes trailing over me with disdain. "And don't forget, if you mess this up, you can kiss your dear brother goodbye. We won't think twice about making him vanish. For good."

My fingers twitched, itching to claw that smug look off his face. But I couldn't. Not with Mikey's life on the line. I took a steadying breath, the cool night air a stark contrast to the fury simmering in my veins.

Focus, Aria. One step at a time. Just like Viktor drilled into you.

I squared my shoulders and started the painful trek toward the entrance. The grand building loomed before me, its lush gardens stretching out like a green carpet. Massive pillars reached skyward, supporting a balcony that wrapped around the second floor. It was a monument to wealth and power, fit for the gods-or in this case, the mafia.

The sounds of music and laughter drifted from inside, a stark contrast to the knot of dread in my stomach. As I approached the front entrance, a burly bouncer stepped in my path, eyeing me up and down.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said with a smirk that made my skin crawl, "but this is a private event. Guests only."

I felt the eyes of other partygoers on me, their gazes mocking my server's uniform. Heat crept up my neck, but I forced it down. No time for embarrassment when Mikey was counting on me.

I plastered on a saccharine smile, letting a hint of sarcasm seep into my voice. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have missed the dress code memo that said only those with designer clothes and empty heads were allowed in."

The bouncer's smirk faded, replaced by a scowl. He towered over me, his bulk designed to intimidate. "Listen, missy," he growled, "I suggest you turn around and go back to serving drinks. This function is not for your kind."

My cheeks flushed, anger bubbling up inside me. I balled my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms. "What do you mean 'my kind'?" I demanded, injecting as much venom into my words as I dared. "I'm a server with the catering team. It's my job to be here."

He sneered down at me. "Then you belong 'round back, not mingling with the guests. Now get lost before I make you regret it."

For a moment, I considered telling him exactly where he could shove his threats. But Mikey's face flashed in my mind-bruised, bloodied, pleading. I swallowed my retort and spun on my heel, wobbling slightly as I headed for the service entrance. The man's mocking laughter followed me, each chuckle like a thorn in my side.

Dickhead.

I rounded the corner, my eyes scanning for the back entrance. There-an imposing man was searching everyone before they entered. Built like a tank, with dark, wavy hair pulled back to reveal several scars. His piercing blue eyes were framed by strong, sculpted features, and he was dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit. As I approached, his gaze locked onto me, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine.

"Name?" he asked, his voice deep and authoritative.

"Soph-" I caught myself just in time, my heart slamming against my ribs. Shit. Pull it together. "I mean, Sonia... it's Sonia Brown," I stammered, silently cursing myself for the near slip-up. Viktor would have had my head if he knew how close I came to blowing my cover.

The man glanced at a list in his hand and nodded. "You may enter, but first, a quick check for weapons and devices." He retrieved a handheld scanner from his pocket.

My stomach dropped. The microchips. Hidden in my hair, disguised as bobby pins. If he found them, I was dead. Mikey was dead. I needed to think fast.

As he was about to scan me, I let my ankle wobble-not entirely an act in those godforsaken shoes. I stumbled forward, bumping into him and sending his scanner clattering to the ground.

"I'm so sorry!" I gasped, feigning embarrassment. We both bent down to retrieve the scanner, and I used the moment of distraction to slip the microchips into the pocket of his pants. My heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it, but he didn't seem to notice, his attention focused on the fallen device.

"It's alright," he said, straightening up and running the scanner over me. "Just be more careful next time."

I nodded, mumbling another apology as I stepped through the service entrance. Only when I was past him did I allow myself a small, shaky breath of relief. Holy shit, that was close. But I did it. Now I just needed to figure out how to get those chips back.

Inside, the opulence of the mansion hit me like a wave. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the grand ballroom as I passed. The air buzzed with excitement and tension, a heady mix that set my nerves on edge.

I slipped off my shoes, carrying them as I navigated toward the bustling kitchen. Snippets of conversation floated around me-servers sharing stories of mishaps and the strict expectations of the catering manager. My palms grew sweaty, and I felt a bead of perspiration trickle down the side of my face.

Get a grip, Aria. You've come too far to lose it now.

"New girl! Over here!" a stern voice called out. I turned to see a hatchet-faced middle-aged woman, her expression all business. This must have been the manager everyone had been talking about.

I squared my shoulders, plastering on what I hoped was a convincing smile. "Yes, ma'am?"

She eyed me critically, her gaze lingering disapprovingly on my bare feet. "You're late. Which means you're starting at a disadvantage, so you'll need to pick up the pace. Remember, walk like a lady, heels on at all times. We have a reputation to uphold."

I nodded, sliding my feet back into the torturous shoes. "Of course, ma'am. Thank you."

As she turned away, barking orders at other servers, I took a deep breath. The weight of what I was about to do settled over me like a heavy cloak. But I pushed it aside. I couldn't afford to let fear or doubt creep in. Not when Mikey's life hung in the balance.

Time to get to work.

***