Predestined for the mafia boss

Vacation

Lyana

Excited about Yuri's idea, I opened the closet doors, looking at the clothes and feeling lost, not knowing what to take. I nervously bite my lower lip. I don't need to look; his presence is strong, and his scent fills the space, alerting my senses. His fingers brush my arms as he rests his chin on my head.

For the first time in my life, I feel an indescribable happiness in being short. It's addictive—this sensation of being enveloped by his enormous body, like smoke filling his lungs.

“What's the problem?” he asks in a low voice, sending shivers down my spine.

“I don't know what clothes to take,” I confess.

When his body moves away from mine, I feel a terrible chill, fighting the urge to pull him back like a needy child. His broad shoulders under the dress shirt highlight skin that's too tanned for a Russian, with a tattoo peeking out from the collar and dark lines painting his skin. His dark hair, longer in the back, mixes with some blond hairs on his nape, and I sigh, finally finding a flaw.

Your gaze quickly glances over his shoulder, as if trying to understand why. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and his look becomes warm in a way I can't hold, making me look down at my feet. I hear a low chuckle and lift my face, watching him take out some dresses. Furthermore, I could dig a hole beneath my feet when I see him picking out intimate pieces. Concentrated, he doesn't seem to notice my discomfort while organizing the carry-on bag.

With a heavy sigh, he turns, his shoulders tense, grabs some clothes from the other side of the closet and puts them in a backpack. He opens a drawer and turns to me with sunglasses on, handing me a pair of women's sunglasses, which I accept immediately. We smile in complicity, carrying the bags to the elevator.

“I should have changed clothes,” I murmur in the elevator, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

The dress, a little above the knee, sways; my breasts are displayed by the U-shaped neckline; my cheeks flushed, and the square sunglasses with gold details on the sides highlight my dark hair, which ends in loose waves.

I shiver at the warm touch of his hand as he adjusts one of the wide straps back into place. I look at him through the mirror, his shirt unbuttoned, making him look completely charming, his lips red and full, too close to my neck when he murmurs against my earlobe.

“You are nothing short of perfect, princess.”

I see my cheeks' reflection, as red as a tomato, and I'm grateful the sunglasses cover my eyes. I can't even respond because the elevator dings, opening its metallic doors, and I'm gently pulled by the hand. Furthermore, I observe the men moving precisely as we step into the vast space of the underground garage.

I believe I'm trembling from nerves as the car starts driving through the city streets. I vaguely remember how amazed I felt when we arrived in Russia, with the seasons rarely going above twenty degrees. Curiosity itches at me as I bounce my knees.

“What’s making you nervous?” A deep voice cuts through the silence.

“The vague memories I have of walking these streets and the curiosity about where we’re going.”

He laughs but remains silent, raising his hand to tune the radio. I grab his hand when “Toxic” by Britney Spears starts playing. He raises an eyebrow, finding it amusing. I can't help it and start to murmur the song, swaying along.

"So, we have a fan of these teenage songs," he says in an accusatory tone, but I see the smile at the corner of his lips.

"Teenage songs?" I question just as "Hot N' Cold" starts playing. I let out a squeal, clapping my hands, causing him to jump in surprise.

As we reach the avenue, I glance at the car's dashboard and press the right button, watching in wonder as the car's roof opens. I shake my head excitedly, singing along. I catch moments where Yuri watches me with a smile and a raised eyebrow. Taking advantage of the song's energy, I place my hand on his thick thigh, squeezing a little as I sing the part about the boyfriend changing personalities like changing clothes.

The wind tosses my hair, and I feel my lungs scream as the song ends.

"If the medical career hadn't worked out, I'm sure you'd be a singer," he says loudly with a mocking tone.

I open my mouth, embarrassed, ready to pull away from him when he grabs my hand, bringing my fingers to his lips and kissing each one. In the end, I can feel his gaze burning my skin even through the sunglasses. We keep our hands intertwined until we reach a small village.

The small houses look like they were built in the last century, giving the whole place an antique feel.

"We're stopping to refuel."

I nod in agreement. After a few streets, we stop at a gas station that seems to be the only one in town. Yuri gets out of the car just as two other cars pull up behind us, and I realize that despite his promise of a moment just for us, we are still being accompanied by security. I sigh again, trying to understand how my life has come to need this kind of escort. Nervously biting my lips, I am caught off guard by a large hand that holds the tip of my chin, meeting Yuri's shining eyes with his sunglasses pushed up on his head.

Seeing him so relaxed and handsome like this, I glance around at the security guards who are chatting, some of them heading towards the small gas station.

“Lyana.”

I look back at him, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze, making my heart skip a beat.

“How about some snacks?”

I give a small smile, nodding, though I'm desperate to ask him to kiss me. The sensations he causes are so intense that I bite my lips as I get out of the car, following him around the simple place. As we entered the small grocery store, I noticed the two saleswomen's eyes glued to him. It's impossible not to look at Yuri—almost two meters tall, well-built with defined but not exaggerated muscles, veins prominent on his forearms, and large hands. His slightly long hair adds an extra charm.

I sighed, selecting a few chocolates and heading to the fridge to grab a soda and water. As I closed the mirrored door, I noticed him holding some potatoes on his side, with one of the attendants resting her hand on his arm, indicating another package without disguising how she flaunted her breasts against the uniform or tossed her blonde hair over her shoulders to get his attention.

I gritted my teeth, feeling an unusual anger taking over my mind. It felt like the world was turning red while tears welled up in my throat, choking off the air. Was she blind not to see the huge ring on his finger?

I clenched the products in my hand, turned toward the cashier, and forcefully placed the items on the counter, catching the gaze of the other blonde, who couldn't hide her interest. I opened my hand and slammed it hard on the wood, making her jump in surprise when she looked at me.

“Where's the restroom?” was questioned with hatred.

“In the back, here's the key.” She quickly handed me the piece of metal, returning her gaze to him.

I took a deep breath and walked in firm steps, refusing to let my shoulders slump in the face of this ridiculous situation. How could he just accept these women hitting on him in my presence?

I opened the wooden door, turned on the light, and was grateful to find a decent bathroom. I was about to lock it when I was stopped by a large hand gripping the wood and forcing its way in.

Yurich's eyes gleamed even against the incandescent bulb. I crossed my arms in anger, holding his gaze.

"Someone needs to pay for the groceries, Yurich.”

“Am I back to being Yurich?” he questions, closing the door behind him.

“I don't know; do you introduce yourself as Yuri to every woman who hits on you?”

I see the way his lip curves slightly on the left side, a clear disregard for the disrespect I've just endured. I huff with anger coursing through my veins like a drug so addictive that I end up lunging at him before I can stop myself. My wrists are caught by him.

I'm sure my cheeks burn with rage as I'm spun around, my back hitting the wood of the door, and the way he removes his glasses, placing them on the small sink, leaves his eyes gleaming.