Amaranthe
The private jet touched down in New York. Amaranthe looks over at her husband and sighed. She could not wallow in self-pity anymore. “You are a strong Baranov woman, self-pity does not suit you, my love. Hold your head up high.” He says as he picks her up and settles her into her wheelchair. She peers up at him and nods, “I know.”
He did not understand, and she was thinking he never would. No one in their right mind could get tortured then just acclimate to their daily lives as if it never happened. She knew even Lizabeta struggled and yet The Outfit never tortured her. How was she going to get through this? Would Dimitri eventually tire of her and her needs?
When they got off the plane, she spotted the Bentayga and smiled. She missed this car and its comforts. Alexei opens the car door for them and gave her a remorseful look. He was still feeling guilty because they captured her while in his care. Even though
DimitriDimitri stares at his screen, contemplating his next move. The Irish back home were retaliating after he took out their Moscow section 6 months ago. His Brigadier in Russia was handling it as much as he could, but he knew they would go over to Russia soon. Truth be told, he hated New York, Moscow was his home. New York had no pull for him, but his infamy here had been growing even without Viktor Baranov to lead.He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. Move to Moscow or continue in New York?“Lyubov’ moya?” Came the voice of Amaranthe as she knocked on his study door. He smiled at her singsong voice and told her to enter. She opens the door with a smile on her face, and Dimitri’s wind gets knocked from him again. Her beauty was unparalleled, even if she only saw herself as ordinary or plain. That she had grasped his mother tongue meant more to him than he would ever show.
AmarantheShe listens to Dimitri’s gentle snores and wriggled herself out of his arms. It was 4 am and Amaranthe had woken up with a deathly desire to play her cello. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she glances back at her husband before slipping her nightgown on and grasping her cane. The last and only time she played her cello, her fingers could barely change notes over the fingerboard. They were extremely stiff, and they throbbed. She shoved the instrument down in frustration and had to buy a new one. The last part she did not tell Dimitri about.She saunters towards the music room Dimitri had set up for her and looked around. Her instrument sat beckoning to her. With a sigh, she strides towards the stool and sits down, grabbing her bow and position the cello between her legs. She exhaled, closed her eyes, and playedThe sound that came from the instrument made her heart twinge. Even with the bio-kineticist, her fingers were usele
Dimitri“Amaranthe, you are beautiful. So much so, that women in your presence are intimidated. You are a queen. Now, please hurry, our guests are expecting us.” Dimitri drawls, exasperation evident in his voice. His wife felt insecure this evening, and he learned why. Her cane made her feel even more insecure than before. “And if anyone tries to say something about your cane, beat them with it.”“Dimitri!” She exclaims and smacks him on his shoulder, but giggles nonetheless. He held her in his arms, “You are exquisite, moye solntse,” He starts, cupping her face in his palms. “Whenever I see you, you take my breath away. What everybody else thought of you should not bother you. You are a Bratva Queen, they are nothing but lowly peasants compared to you. I will keep reminding you of this until you believe it.” He asserts, kissing her forehead. A smile passed over her lips and her shoul
AmarantheShe caught the look Dimitri gave her and took off. The Irishman was bad news, and if her husband thought so, she would be a fool not to listen. Linking her arms with Anya again, she cocks her head to where she stood before. “Do you recognize that man I was talking to just now?” She asked Anya, and the latter shook her head. “Nah. I was chatting to that designer from Washington. Why what’s up?” She asked, taking a sip of her champagne.Amaranthe could not describe how slimy the man made her feel, like he had been deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable. She shudders. “I think Dimitri knows him, but he sort of warned me to stay away from the guy with the shake of his head.” Anya stared at her and a furrowed her brow, “Wait, can you describe him to me?” she abruptly asks and Amaranthe shrugs. “Tall, blonde hair that was longer on top, but had a darker undercut. Oh, g
DimitriDimitri watched Kieran as his entourage filled the study. It was only him and his three men. Dimitri had Sergei, Lev, and Boris so they were equal.“Now, Teague.” Dimitri starts and sits down at his desk. “You spoke of a truce. Why should the Bratva trust the Irish when they were the ones who murdered our Pakhan?” Dimitri starts the negotiations without skipping a beat. He had to start before the Irishman got even more on his nerves. Kieran already tried to set him off by flirting with Amaranthe, so he was already on edge.He sat down opposite Dimitri and leaned backward. “You have to admit this will be mutually benefitting to the both of us. There are places in Manhattan that Bratva fingers cannot reach. The same with me. The upper east side and Brooklyn are off-limits to us. I am sure if we came to an accord, we could make each other a lot of money.”“Money is the last thing on my mind,
“What the fuck do you mean you won’t be here tomorrow?” She hears through the study door, her arm poised to knock. When Dimitri got like this, it was in her best interest to stay away from him.She stares at the test in her hand and wonders how he would react. A solitary tear slipped down her cheek as she thought back to her first pregnancy. The trauma that followed afterward ate at her every day. No amount of pills could keep PTSD at bay. The nightmares were the worst. She swears she could still feel the Enforcer pulling the nails from her fingers every time she awoke from a night terror.The door opens abruptly, giving her a fright and the test falls out of her hand. “Amaranthe?” Dimitri frowns at her, “I heard you walking but you did not come in. Why are you just standing here, love?” He asks and bends down to pick up the fallen pregnancy test.Amaranthe’s heart sat in her throat as he looked up at her and flipp
AmarantheAmaranthe looked down at her belly and beamed. She was showing beautifully and knew her little bean was safely inside her womb. Dimitri loved stroking her abdomen and whispering to the baby in Russian. It was a beautiful sight that frequently resulted in Amaranthe crying.Today would be their 22-week check-up, but so far Dr. Meyer was happy with the baby’s development.Dimitri was driving the Maserati Levante with the four bodyguards following suit in the Bentayga. “You don’t have to come along to every check-up, lyubov’ moya. I am sure Michael and Alexei will be ample security.”“Nonsense. This is my child, and I will attend every check-up.” Dimitri answers in a terse tone, causing her to smile. He was becoming more overbearing by the day, but she was enjoying the attention. She was worried about his duty as Pakhan as well. Hopefully, no one thought he had gone soft.“
AmarantheIt was on days like these that Amaranthe wished her babies would come already. It was the hottest day of the year and she had spent it all floating in the pool again. As blessed as she felt at 8 and a half months, she also wished it were all over by now.All the twins wanted were pickles and ice cream; sometimes even mixed. Dimitri got so frustrated with her need for thick milkshakes, he bought her an appliance that produced milkshakes to the same consistency she craved.“Amaranthe! Get out of that pool!” Dimitri called from the edge and she groaned. He hated her lounging in the sun for too long. “You will get heatstroke, get out of that pool or I will come to get you.” He ordered, but all she did was raise her sunglasses and look at him.“Fine.” He says and gets into the pool, fully dressed in his three-piece suit.“Dimitri! What the hell?!” She called out as he swam over t