Hidden Truths: A Broken Hero Mafia Romance (Perfectly Imperfect Book 3)
Hidden Truths: Chapter 19

“I like this one.” Sergei points at the red leather jacket hanging on the mannequin.

I reach for the tag to look at the price and my eyes widen. “We can get this once I get access to my bank account.”

“Roman said his guy would need at least two more weeks to have your new ID done. Good forgery requires time.” He takes the jacket off the mannequin and offers it to me. “Try it on.”

“It can wait. You’ve been buying everything for me. It doesn’t feel right when I have loads of money sitting in my account.”

“I like buying things for you.” He dips his head and places a kiss on my lips. “Except for the bath stuff. There’s so much different shit, I get anxiety every time I enter one of those fancy scented shops.”

“Is that why you bought out the whole shop last time? I have enough shampoo to last me for two years.”

Sergei takes a strand of my hair between his fingers, lifts it to his nose and inhales. “I like this one. We’re buying more.”

“Not until I go through at least half the stash I already have.” I laugh.

“Okay.” He lets my hair fall, then wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against his body. “Let’s pay for the jacket and go back home.”

“Oh? Do you have something specific in mind?”

“Yes.” His lips press to mine. “I told Albert we’ll be busy the whole afternoon, and that I don’t want to see him until tomorrow. He took Mimi with him.”

“And what will we be busy with?”

His lips widen in a smug smile, and he leans to whisper in my ear. “I want to fuck you in every part of my home, on every piece of furniture. That way, when I zone out again, I’ll have at least one of those spots in view. That will make it much easier to come back, don’t you think?”

“I like that idea.” I bite his lower lip. “I’m a big supporter of alternative therapy techniques.”

He growls. “Cash register. Car. Kitchen. Let’s go.”

“I need to go to the bathroom after the cash register stop, but I have no complaints about the rest of the itinerary.”

As soon as we’re done paying for my jacket, Sergei ushers me to a mall restroom we find down one of the hallways, and sits on the bench out front to wait for me. I’m just washing my hands when the door behind me opens. I lift my head, glancing at the mirror, and spot the redheaded woman I saw while walking Mimi the other day. Our gazes meet in a reflection, and her lips widen in a smile.

“Angelina Sofia Sandoval,” she says in an accented voice, and cold dread rushes down my spine. “Someone would like to talk with you.”

She takes a few steps toward me and places a phone on the counter next to the sink. I stare at the name shown on the screen, trying to control my erratic breathing, then pick up the cell and press it to my ear.

“Diego,” I say, trying to make my voice sound calm. “What can I do for you?”

“Did you really think you could run away from me, you little bitch?” he barks.

“Yes. I hoped so.”

He laughs like a madman. “I will enjoy breaking your spirit, palomita. No one gets away from Diego Rivera.”

“I’m not going back to Mexico, Diego. Ever. As far as anyone is concerned, I’m a US citizen. So while I’m here, you can’t do anything to me.”

“I could kill you,” he says. “Or even better, I could kill that Russian you’ve been fucking. Authorities won’t blink if one of the Bratva’s men ends up gutted on the street. Or with his car blown up. They’ll probably thank me.”

I suck in a breath and straighten my spine. “You won’t dare kill him. It would mean the end of your collaboration with the Russians, and they’re your biggest buyer.”

“That’s true. I would very much prefer to keep a good relationship with them, even if your crazy lover killed my men last time. Russians bring good money to the table, which means you’re going to come back willingly,” he sneers. “I’ve had people watching you for weeks, and from what they say, you seem very close to that demented Russian. Tell me, palomita, are you in love with Belov?”

“Of course not,” I lie. “I’m just using him to get what I need.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if one of my men waiting on the other side of the hallway shoots him on the spot?”

I grip the edge of the counter in front of me. “Please, don’t.”

A crazy laugh comes from the other side of the line. “The little runaway bitch has fallen in love. How convenient.” He snorts, “So, what will it be? Are you coming back? Or am I killing your lover?”

“You won’t touch Sergei.” I close my eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. “I’m coming back.”

“Perfect. Now listen to me carefully. You’ll text Juana the time you’ll be alone in the house tomorrow and can slip out without anyone noticing. A car will be waiting for you.”

“Tomorrow?” I choke out.

“Yes. You have one day to figure out how you’ll explain the situation to your Russian. But keep one thing in mind. If he comes after you, he will be killed the instant he sets foot in Mexico. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He laughs again. “I’m so looking forward to having you here, palomita. I’m getting quite bored with Maria lately, and I’m sure your pussy is much tighter than hers.”

I throw the phone onto the counter and stare at my reflection. It’s over. I swallow bile, turn toward the redheaded bitch, who’s been standing by my side the whole time, and tell her my number. She saves it, nods, and leaves the bathroom with a smirk on her face. A few seconds later my phone pings with an incoming message. I look at the short text—Juana’s number—and squeeze the phone with all my might.

One deep breath. Then another one. I turn on the water and splash some on my face. It helps a little, but I’m still close to breaking down. I splash more water, then look at my ghostly pale face, wondering what I’m going to do. Should I run? Diego will kill Sergei for sure in that case. I could tell Sergei the truth. He’s more than capable of defending himself. But what if those scumbags set a bomb in his car? Or house? You can’t defend yourself from a bomb.

No, there must be another way. Shit. Think, damn it. Police? Yeah, right.

Maybe I could go back to Mexico, then try to run again? It could work, but it would take me weeks or months until I convince Rivera that I’m docile enough for him to loosen the security. Doesn’t matter. I will endure anything if it means being free of that son of a bitch. But it would also mean never seeing Sergei again.

I wrap my arms around myself, squishing the red leather jacket Sergei just bought for me in the process, and press my lips together to bottle up the scream that’s been building inside of me since I saw Diego’s name on that phone. No. I’m not falling apart here. Taking a deep breath, I will my legs to move.

I notice them the moment I leave the restroom. Two men in suits, standing at the other end of the hallway, their eyes fixed on Sergei. Diego wasn’t lying.

“Everything okay?” Sergei asks when I approach him. “You look pale.”

“Yup, all good.” I nod and manage a fake smile. “I just have a headache.”

He places his hand on the back of my neck and tilts my head up. “Do you want us to go to a doctor?”

“Of course not. It’s just a headache. It’ll pass. And anyway, we have plans, don’t we?”

It takes immense control to keep my cool as he leans in and kisses me. Only the knowledge that Sergei could get killed if he finds out what’s going on keeps me from bursting into tears. I take his hand and let him lead me out of the mall and toward his bike. All the while, I’m crumbling inside.

The ride back to Sergei’s house lasts less than thirty minutes. I planned on using that time to think about how I’m going to slip out tomorrow, but instead, I spend the whole drive squeezing his waist, soaking in the feeling of having him close, and trying to save it in one of my mental vaults for safekeeping.

“Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” Sergei asks when we get off the bike in front of his house.

I hang my helmet on the handlebar and turn toward him, noticing the way his pale hair reflects the light of the setting sun, the longer strands flowing in the breeze. Reaching out with my hand, I trace my finger along the line if his chin, and place my other hand at the center of his chest.

“I want you to make love to me so hard,” I say, “that I forget everything else.”

Sergei grabs me under my ass, lifts me up, and carries me toward the front door. I wrap my legs around his waist and take his face in my palms, placing kisses all over it. I start with his perfectly imperfect nose, then move to his forehead and eyebrows, sealing every single detail into memory.

“We’ll start in the kitchen and move on from there,” he says into my ear as he settles me onto the dining table. “I plan on covering the whole ground floor today.”

“That’s a lot of space.” I smile and remove my jacket. “You sure you’re up to it?”

My jeans and T-shirt are next, but when I take off my bra and reach for my panties, Sergei grabs my hand and moves it away. “We’ll see.” He smirks. “Lie down.”

I lean back, pressing my back to the table’s surface, and watch as he bends and places a kiss between my breasts. Slowly, he trails a line of kisses down my chest and stomach until he reaches my panties. He looks up at me with a smug smile, takes the waistband between his teeth, and pulls them down. When he has my panties removed, he takes my leg and places a kiss on my ankle, proceeds up along the inside of my thigh, then buries his face between my legs. I inhale sharply and grab his hair, panting as he licks at my clit—once, twice—and then sucks on it.

“I could spend the whole day just playing with your pussy,” he murmurs and penetrates me with his tongue. He continues licking and sucking my pussy, squeezing my butt cheeks in the process, moving faster and faster until it feels like I’m going to explode. Then, he lightly bites at my clit, and my orgasm consumes me.

I am still panting when he places his hand at my nape and pulls me up to devour my lips. I taste myself on him—bittersweet. His other hand comes to my lower back to keep my body in place as he positions his cock at my entrance.

He pulls back to look me in the eyes. “I’m so in love with you,” he whispers as he slides in me, bit by bit. I want to tell him the same, so much that it’s tearing me apart from the inside. Instead, I just press my lips together and clutch at his shoulders, not taking my eyes off him. I moan as he buries himself deeper in me, and I press my face into the crook of his neck. His hot breath fans at the skin of my shoulder, and I enjoy the feel of him sinking into me again and again. It’s almost enough to make me forget about tomorrow. We come together in a mix of panting and groans.

“Couch, bedroom, or shower?” Sergei asks when he recovers his breathing.

“Shower,” I mumble and wrap my legs tightly around his waist. There is no way I’m letting him out of my reach for a second longer than necessary.

“Okay.” He chuckles and carries me up the stairs to his bathroom.

“I’m borrowing your shower gel today,” I say as he sets me down under the water stream.

“I thought you like sugary scents.”

I just shrug, grab a dark blue bottle off the shelf, squeeze a bit onto my palm, and start lathering my body.

Sergei comes inside the shower stall and, placing his finger under my chin, tilts my head up. “What’s wrong?”

Water from the shower splashes at my side as I stare into his light eyes. “Nothing. Why?”

Dear God, even looking at him hurts because I know I’ll be leaving tomorrow.

“You can’t lie worth a damn, Angelina.” He takes a step forward and leans in so we’re face to face. “What is going on?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sergei puts his palms to the tiles on either side of my head and watches me with his lips pressed into a thin line.

I take a deep breath. “Are we going to finish this shower, or are you planning to keep looming above me like a gargoyle?”

“You don’t get to lie to me. Ever,” he says. “If you don’t want to talk about something that’s okay. If you need space, that’s okay, too. I know that being with me can be overwhelming. But you won’t lie to me. Deal?”

I look down and nod. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. Do you need space?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“If you want, I’ll sleep in the other room tonight.”

I still. No. This is our last night together, and I’ll be damned if I let him sleep anywhere but in my arms. Placing my palm on his chest, I slowly slide it down until I reach his cock and wrap my hand around it.

“You’re most definitely not sleeping in the other room,” I say and squeeze his already hardening length.

Sergei sucks in a breath as he wraps his arm around my waist and presses me to his body. “This discussion isn’t over, Angelina.”

“We can continue tomorrow.” I press a kiss onto the middle of his chest. “You promised me a sex tour of your place. I expect you to deliver. Or is it too much for you?” I look up, lifting an eyebrow.

A growling sound leaves his lips before he bends down and throws me over his shoulder. “The kitchen counter is our next stop,” he says and taps my naked ass with his palm.

* * *

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” I ask as I slide my hands up Sergei’s back.

He’s lying across the bed on his stomach, and I’m sitting on his lower back. It took me fifteen minutes, but I managed to convince him to let me massage him with one of my rose-scented oils.

“I have a meeting around noon,” he mumbles into the pillow. “We can go for a ride afterward.”

“Yeah,” I choke out, then lean forward and press a kiss between his shoulder blades. “A ride sounds great, baby.”

With every passing minute, I find it harder to pretend. It’s like watching an hourglass with only a little bit of sand left in the upper bulb, and the grains fall faster and faster. I move my palms to Sergei’s shoulders, then slide them down his arms—the very arms that carried the half-dead me out of that truck and saved my life. After I’m done with his arms I return to his back, my strokes becoming lighter, more of a caress than a massage, until I feel his body relax and his breathing deepen. Sergei is a light sleeper, so I keep going for five more minutes before I carefully get down from the bed. I take my phone from the nightstand, send the message to the redheaded bitch saying that I will be ready to go tomorrow at noon, and head into the bathroom.

With that done, I lock the door, remove my clothes, turn on the water to scorching hot, and get inside the shower stall. The moment the spray hits me, I lean my back on the tiles. My entire body feels heavy with the weight of what I must do. My head droops forward first, then my legs give out, and I sink to the floor. I wrap my arms tightly around my knees and pull them close to my chest. I have nothing left to cling to, so this has to do. Maybe, if I squeeze tight enough, I’ll be able to hold the shattering pieces of me together.

With the door locked, and the water drowning out all other sounds, I finally let myself break down. My tears, mixed with the shower stream, vanish down the drain.

What am I going to do tomorrow? I can’t just disappear. No, I’ll need to leave a note with an explanation. It’ll be a bunch of lies, something that will convince Sergei that I decided to leave on my own accord and don’t want to see him ever again. I will have to hurt him. And it’ll have to be really bad if I want him to believe it. I can’t risk Sergei chasing after me because Diego will have him killed. Of that, I’m one hundred percent sure. Maybe, one day, when I manage to escape from Diego, I can come back and look for him. Sergei will probably hate me by then.

I sit on the floor of the shower stall until the water runs cold, then put on that idiotic set of pajamas Sergei bought me and sneak under the bedcover next to him. It’s already well after midnight, but I don’t dare close my eyes and risk losing my final moments with him to sleep. I lie there and watch him until the light of the morning sun seeps into the room.

Sergei

“I shouldn’t be long,” I say while buttoning my shirt. “Two hours tops. We can eat something when I get back and then go for a ride.”

Angelina’s arms come around my waist. “Sounds good.”

I turn around, and taking her face in my palms, I press a kiss onto her lips. “I bought you that junk food crap you like. It’s in the cupboard next to the fridge.”

“The ketchup-flavored chips?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how you can eat that shit.” I reach for my phone on the nightstand and head to the door. “Albert will be back with Mimi soon. Please remind him to feed her.”

“Okay, baby.” She nods and looks up at me. There’s a strange look in her eyes, but it’s gone in a blink.

I’m halfway to my car when I hear Angelina calling my name. I turn around to find her standing on the porch. She watches me for a moment, then runs down the steps and across the driveway. Instead of stopping when she reaches me, she jumps into my arms, wraps her legs around my waist, and crashes her mouth to mine.

“I’ll miss you, Sergei,” she whispers against my lips.

“Baby?” I mumble into her mouth. “I’m coming back in two hours.”

“I know.” She leans her head back and traces the tip of her finger down my nose. “Take care, big guy.”

“I’m meeting with someone who supplies us with cars.” I laugh. “He’s almost eighty. I think I can take him on if he becomes hostile for some reason.”

Angelina smiles, kisses me again, and wiggles her butt, so I put her down, squeezing her ass in the process.

“I’m going to get those chips now,” she says and rushes back into the house.

As I watch her climb up the steps, a strange foreboding sensation settles in the pit of my stomach. It doesn’t leave me even after I arrive at the meeting point. In fact, it only becomes stronger. Twenty minutes into the meeting, I decide to cut it short and head back home.

Half an hour later I’m parking the car on the driveway when Felix exits the house and stares at me with a grim face, his hands planted on his hips. I head to where he’s standing on the porch while a sense of unease spreads through me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, climbing the steps.

“Angelina left.”

“Alone?” I stop on the top stair. “Where did she go? I told her I’ll be back in two hours. If she needed something, she could have waited.”

Angelina likes going to the small grocery store down the street, but I prefer for her not to wander around alone.

“She left you a note on the bed. I saw it when I went to look for you two,” Felix says and looks away. “She’s not coming back, Sergei.”

I stare at Felix, processing what he just said, then rush inside the house. I take three stairs at a time and run to my bedroom. There, on a tidily made bed, lies a lonely piece of paper. For a few moments, I just look at it as panic unfurls inside me. I take a deep breath, approach the bed, and read the neatly handwritten note.

Sergei,

For quite some time, I’ve been thinking about my life and everything that has happened. I’ve decided I need a fresh start. I contacted one of my father’s friends earlier this week, and he arranged for me to get an ID so I can access my money and leave the States. While I truly enjoyed spending time with you, I realize that if I want to bring order into my life, I need to cut connections with everything that ties me to my past.

We had some nice moments together, but sometimes you scare the shit out of me, and I think it’s time we part ways. I thought I could deal with your issues, but the truth is, it’s too much, and it’s best that I leave. I booked a one-way flight to Europe, and I don’t plan on coming back.

Thank you for everything and take care.

Angelina.

I stare at the paper in my hand, then crumple and throw it across the room. Rage, stronger than any I’ve ever felt, consumes me. Felix’s voice reaches me from behind, but it gets weaker with every passing second until all I can hear is the ringing in my ears, and then nothing.

Angelina

They’re late. I turn around and look up and down the street, wondering if, by some stroke of luck, Diego changed his mind. Even though it’s rather warm, I keep the red leather jacket on. Other than a few toiletries and a change of clothes, it’s the only thing I took with me when I sneaked away from Sergei’s home. I planned on leaving the jacket as well—it was crazy expensive—but I couldn’t make myself do it.

There’s also one of his small knives hidden at the bottom of my backpack. There is no way I’m going to Diego unarmed. A gun would have been a much better option, but it was harder to hide.

I wrap my arms around my waist and debate if I should call the redheaded bitch, Juana, to ask what’s going on when I notice a black car approaching. A sensation of falling overtakes me. It looks like I’m not that lucky after all. The car stops in front of me, and a short man sitting in the driver’s seat lowers the window. He’s in his late forties and an American. The car itself is maybe ten years old and is well used. Nothing even remotely is suspicious about it. Apparently, Diego doesn’t want to risk the boarder authorities looking too closely at the passengers.

“Do you have my documents?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I take a deep breath, throw the phone Sergei bought for me into the bushes, and walk around the car to get into the passenger side door. “Let’s go then.”

Sergei

“Sergei?” Roman’s voice reaches me from somewhere on my right.

I open my eyes and, for a couple of seconds, I can’t grasp where I am until I notice familiar details. The bookshelves to the left are still in place, probably because they’re anchored to the wall. They are the only things, other than the bed where I’m sitting, that are still intact. The two recliners lie overturned near the opposite wall from where they should be, some of their parts are missing. The dresser, with clothes spilling out of it, is askew atop one of the chairs. Pieces of wood, fabric, and books are scattered all over the room, making it look like an earthquake or a tornado has hit it.

“Sergei? Are you with us?”

I look up.

Roman is standing in the doorway with Felix lurking behind him. Mimi, with her head on her paws and eyes peering at me, is lying on the floor in front of them.

“How long?” I ask.

“Four hours.” Roman takes a few steps but stops when he reaches the middle of the room. “Felix called me the moment you started trashing stuff, but when I arrived, you were already done with this floor.”

“Shit.” I shake my head. “How does the downstairs look?”

Roman scans the room around him and shrugs. “Pretty much the same. Good thing Felix thought to lock the armory before you reached it.”

Thank God for that. I don’t remember anything after reading Angelina’s note. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I need to get out of here.

“Albert, where are the keys to my bike?” I ask as I get up from the bed.

“You’re staying put,” Roman snaps and points his cane at me. “Sit back down.”

“Roman, don’t,” Felix mumbles from behind him.

“I’m not letting him go anywhere in this state. He’ll either crash or kill someone.”

I tilt my head and look at my brother. We’re pretty evenly matched when it comes to strength, and I would love nothing more than to work off some of the frustration and rage that’s boiling inside of me with a good fight. But Roman can’t take me on, not anymore at least, his knee is too fucked up. And if I lose it during the fight, I may go for a kill. I don’t want to annihilate my brother, no matter how annoying he might be.

“Back off, Roman.” I head for the door, but as I pass him, his hand shoots out and wraps around my neck.

“She isn’t worth it, Sergei.”

I grab his shirt and lean forward, staring him down. “Don’t you dare say a word about her,” I bite out. I won’t let anyone talk badly about Angelina. Even though it kills me to admit it, she made the right decision to save herself. No one should be burdened with someone as fucked up as me. “Not a word. You hear me, Roman?”

We stare at each other for a few moments, then Roman shakes his head and removes his hand from my neck. “Please, don’t get yourself killed.”

I let go of his shirt and walk to the doorway, but then stop. “You promised Angelina you would ask about her nana. Do you have any intel?”

“Not yet. My contact in Mexico called this morning and said he’ll be able to check the Sandoval compound this weekend. It sounded like Diego is throwing a party.”

“Good. Let me know the moment he calls.”

“Why?”

“I plan on getting Angelina’s nana out of there if she’s alive.”

“Damn it, Sergei! You’re not going to Mexico!”

I ignore his yelling and step out of the room. “You may want to call Mendoza and see if he can double the quantity next month,” I throw over my shoulder. “Or find another supplier because I’ll be killing Diego while I’m down there.”

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