Roman Sidorov was not known for doing things the easy way. In fact, he was used to doing things the very hard way. He had no problem getting his hands dirty when the occasion called for it.

He had a lot of kills under his belt, and he was loyal to the Zaitsev Bratva. After the street war that broke out two years ago, he had learned of the casualties, including civilians. Roman didn’t mourn people. He simply had no feelings about them, but he did work to a code. People who didn’t get in the way were free to live their lives.

Now, the people in the car had lost their lives due to sloppiness.

He had already killed the men who’d attacked without thinking, causing a scene, and costing a lot of money to deal with, through different avenues of the law. The Zaitsev Bratva had legal and illegal businesses. He was one of the men responsible for making money, but keeping problems at bay. Roman knew he was the master of it. Whenever there was a problem within the Bratva, something needing to be cleaned up and dealt with, he was the one to call, in every situation and scenario.

Then a year after the incident, he got a call from a cop on their payroll about a young woman, Chloe Baker. She was attempting to give information to help incarcerate the Zaitsev Bratva. At first, he was intrigued, until he listened to everything she had—recordings, photographs—all of them coming from their own bar, Hugh’s.

Hugh’s wasn’t a bar he frequented. The women who danced there were often desperate for a taste of the good life, and he just didn’t like that level of desperation, unless he was the one doing the torture. He had gone to the bar, intent on finding out who Chloe Baker was. He had his orders to handle the problem, from Zaitsev himself.

The easy option would be to kill her. Only, Chloe had intrigued him from the moment he walked into the bar. First, she had given him a drink without a word. No conversation or even flirting. She didn’t attempt to press her tits together to gain his attention, and she was dressed as most barmen, long black pants and a shirt. Obviously, she wore the female versions that did amazing things for her figure. There was another little detail he liked. Roman loved a woman with curves. He loved big tits, a nice, juicy ass, thick thighs, all of which Chloe possessed.

She never flirted with him. He had to initiate conversation, and again, this was new to him. Over the years, he had gotten used to women throwing themselves at him, practically drooling at the title.

Rather than kill Chloe, he’d decided to enjoy her. It had taken him ten months to get her into his bed, and much to his surprise, she had been a virgin, even though he had a hunch she was. In all his forty years, he’d never had a virgin. Chloe had become a pure addiction to him. One taste hadn’t been enough, so for the last two months, he’d been enjoying her every chance he got.

Marrying her was the only solution. As his wife, she wouldn’t be able to get into too much trouble, at least that was what he told himself. He never planned for her to learn the truth, not so soon anyway.

“You’re sick!”

“Are you telling me your pussy isn’t wet for me right now?” he asked.

In response, she let out a whimper.

Chloe liked it when he talked dirty. He’d never been much of a talker, and when it came to sex, he liked to fuck. With Chloe, he was learning a whole lot more that he enjoyed.

She had been a virgin, his special virgin.