Slice of Artev

Author's Note: Yeah, I don't have time for anything anymore, but here's another book lmao. Updates will be slow since I'm focusing on the other stories, but this is a 'slice of life' book about Artemy and Lev. Snippets of their relationship, random days, no real plot. The first two chapters will be 'Big Bad Mafia King' and 'Big Bad Mafia King 2', copied from the 'Heaven' collection of oneshots.

WARNING: this book contains a large age gap relationship (25 years), violence, mentions of child abuse, mental health issues, including OCD and self-harm, and a BDSM relationship between two men.

Description: Artemy Aslanov, a Russian mafia leader, accidentally pisses off his butler/lover, Lev, and faces the consequences.

LEV’S P.O.V

Artemy Aslanov; only twenty-eight years old and already one of the most powerful men in the world. His name alone is enough to strike fear into any person’s heart. He’s known to be cruel, heartless, and exceptionally ruthless when it comes to eliminating those who stand against him. Artemy is a monster, a devil, the spawn of Lucifer himself... and I am his dutiful butler.

“Master Artemy will be home in three hours with his guests,” I stood in the kitchen, addressing the chefs. “I have prepared a menu and I expect every dish to be perfectly made. Any failure to do so shall result in your immediate removal from this kitchen and you will not be permitted to work in any other establishments owned by the Aslanov family. Have I made myself clear?”

The chefs nodded and all responded with a resounding “Yes, sir!”

Knowing that they understood what was expected of them, I decided to go check up on the maids next. The mansion needed to be spotless, not only because of the powerful guests that would be coming over for dinner but also because of Artemy’s mild OCD, which would flare up at the sight of a single stain on the carpet.

The last thing I needed was for him to accidentally snap like he did last time. I almost had to fire the entire staff because he insisted that they couldn’t be trusted to keep his home clean. But luckily I’d managed to calm him down in a way only I could...

Shaking away the memory of that particularly rough night, I continued to complete my tasks over the next couple of hours. By the time everything was done, one of the maids came to notify me that Artemy and his guests were pulling into the driveway.

I made my way to the foyer, waiting to welcome them. The door swung open to reveal Artemy first. He was dressed in the usual, all-black Armani suit and I could just see the beginning of his tattoos on the back of his hands and creeping up from the collar of his shirt.

His dark hair was combed back from his face and his void, dark eyes met mine in a moment of silent, unwavering contact. I wanted to wipe the cold look from his face and kiss a smile onto his lips. His mafia leader personality wasn’t one I was overly fond of, but I made sure to maintain a professional appearance as I greeted him.

“Master Artemy,” I lowered my head slightly in a respectful bow. “Welcome home.”

“Lev,” He greeted back in that emotionless tone but I noticed the way his eyes lingered on my lips for a second too long before he looked away. “Is dinner ready? I’m sure my guests are starving.”

“I most certainly am,” A young man I recognised as Peter Chekov, a rich ally of the mafia, stood slightly behind Artemy with a smile on his face.

“I could eat,” said the lady beside him; a wealthy heiress by the name of Nadia Clemont.

The third guest was as deadly-looking as Artemy. I knew him to be Mikhail Federov, the leader of a smaller mafia that worked closely with the Aslanov family. Beside him was the fourth and final guest; Jakob Aslanov, Artemy’s younger brother and second in command.

I stepped aside to let them in and greeted them with a small, welcoming smile. “Dinner is waiting for you in the dining room. I’ll be more than happy to take your coats while one of the maids escorts you.”

Master Artemy handed me his jacket without so much as a thank you and the rest of the guests did the same. It wasn’t unusual for powerful people to do this and I took no offence to it at all. I knew Artemy had a role to play and I would permit him to play it as long as he didn’t explicitly disrespect me.

Taking their coats and jackets, I hung them in a large closet room on the left side of the foyer. I then decided to go check on the chefs again to get a taste of the food and to see how the dessert was coming along.

I was just about to tell them to add more sugar when a maid rushed into the kitchen, looking wide-eyed with panic.

“Master Artemy asked for you,” She said, sweating slightly as she addressed me. “He seems angry.”

The chefs began to murmur amongst themselves and were quickly flooded with fear. No one wanted to upset the man who ran Moscow’s underground crime world. Especially since he had been known to dismember anyone who so much as looked at him funny.

And yet, instead of feeling terrified or even a little frightened, I found myself completely unfazed.

Artemy would never lay a hand on me.

He’d rather die.

“Add more sugar to the syrup,” I told the chefs before I turned to leave the kitchen so I could find out what I’d done to make my lover unhappy.

When I got to the large, chandelier-lit dining room, I found him sitting at the head of the table with his guests seated on the chairs in front of him. They were all eating their meal, seeming rather content with the food. But they were also tense and silent, and I could tell that Artemy’s mood had affected the atmosphere.

“Lev,” Sharp, dark eyes met mine with a barely contained anger swirling inside of them. Artemy rose from his chair, standing tall and looking as intimidating as ever with an angry scowl painted across his face. “Why is there a hair in my soup?”

“A hair?” I frowned, feeling a bit confused. All the chefs were required to wear hair coverings whenever they were in the kitchen and I was sure the head chef wouldn’t let anyone break that rule. “Are you sure?” I asked, and that seemed to further anger Artemy.

“Are you saying I don’t know a hair when I see one?”

His guests turned to look at me, as if they were certain I was about to get shot on the spot. Only Jakob was smirking because he knew the true relationship between Artemy and I. So he knew who really held the power.

“Of course not, Master Artemy,” I spoke as calmly as ever as I addressed the furious male. “I’m simply asking if you’re sure the hair isn’t yours. The chefs always wear-” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Artemy was bursting our in anger before I could.

“Of course the hair isn’t mine! Do you think I don’t know how my own hair looks like?!”

“I never said tha-”

“Look!” He shouted, grabbing the bowl. “If you don’t believe me then see it for yourself!”

I was about to walk towards him so I could get a look at the hair. However, he slid the bowl across the table and in his angered state, he pushed it too hard. It slid right off the wooden surface and fell to my feet, shattering in an instant and spilling the hot liquid all over my the bottom of my trousers and onto my favourite pair of work shoes.

Everyone else had been quiet before but now the silence was practically deafening. No one dared to so much as breathe and even the maids who stood in various corners of the room had turned to look at me, as if waiting to see what I would do. They had never seen Artemy snap at me before so their shock was justified. The only person smiling in that moment was Jakob, who knew very well that his brother was in for a world of trouble.

Artemy’s anger had melted away and brief panic filled his eyes. However, he had to hide it so as to not appear to be weak in front of his guests. And I had to hold down my own rising fury as I bent over to pick up the shards of broken glass.

Indeed there was a hair in the soup. And indeed it wasn’t dark like Artemy’s.

“I’m sorry for talking back, Master Artemy. I hope you’ll have the kindness fo forgive me,” I said, rising back up to my full height. “I’ll talk to the chefs and have them prepare you a new bowl of soup.”

“Alright,” Artemy responded in a cold demeanor but his eyes were saying something else.

‘I’m sorry, Lev. I’m so sorry.’

I turned to leave but not before giving him a long, sharp look.

This won’t go unpunished.

ARTEMY’S P.O.V

The remainder of dinner went by with talks about investments and expanding the mafia. I tried to seem interested but it was hard to pay attention after the events that had transpired with Lev so I let Jakob do most of the talking. I hardly touched my food and all I could think of was the punishment that awaited me later.

Killing a man was easy work and I could pull a trigger without missing a beat. But hurting Lev pained me more than anything else and my mind was a mess as I replayed the look on his face when I threw the bowl at him.

He had been so...disappointed.

I had always struggled with my temper, especially when I was younger, and Lev had always been the one to calm me down. Even when my parents struggled, he could always handle me with ease. And when I admitted my feelings towards him after I turned sixteen, he didn’t once judge me. He continued to care for me as he always had and, soon after I turned twenty, he gave me the love I had desired from him.

Unfortunately, because of my parents’ untimely passing, I had to take over the mafia soon after I turned twenty-one. Which meant that Lev and I had to hide our relationship because it was not only unconventional, but it was also very forbidden in the mafia.

Still, I made sure to treat Lev with nothing but respect. It was the only thing he requested of me, and I felt it was only fair given how he accepted me in spite of my demanding personality, my OCD and my anger management issues. But today I’d had a terrible day and I just...snapped. And as a result of that, I’d raised my voice at Lev and I’d gotten physically aggressive.

I want to die.

“Calm down,” Jakob said once it was just the two of us left in the dining room. All the other guests had left a few minutes ago. “It’s not like he’s going to dump you,” My younger brother grinned, clearly not understanding how serious this was for me.

“I threw a bowl at him.”

“Technically, you slid a bowl off the table and it fell in front of him,” Jakob corrected me.

“Still,” I sighed, feeling so horrible inside. “I was angry. I could have hurt him. What if he ended up getting cut by the glass or burnt by the soup?”

“You didn’t mean for that to happen,” Jakob said. “You would never hurt Lev. No matter how angry you are.”

I knew he was right, but I still felt that horrible feeling in my gut.

“You decapitated a guy last week,” Jakob chuckled. “A bowl of soup shouldn’t make you feel this guilty.”

“But it’s Lev...”

“I know, I know-” My brother rolled his eyes. “You’ve loved him since we were kids, which is super weird by the way, but I understand what he means to you.”

I sighed, looking at Jakob anxiously. “Are you sure he won’t dump me?”

“Certain.”

“And what if he does?”

“You’re a mafia king,” Jakob shrugged. “You’ll just kidnap him or something.”

I shook my head, “I’d never hurt Lev.”

Jakob chuckled, “The big bad mafia king is a massive simp. Who would have guessed?”

I flipped him off and opened my mouth to insult him but the door opened before I could and Lev entered the room, looking every bit as handsome as he was angry.

“I’ll be waiting in the bedroom,” He said.

I swallowed thickly and nodded, “Okay.”

He left the room and I rushed to stand while Jakob laughed like an asshole.

“Don’t worry, brother,” My younger sibling grinned. “I’ll take care of the mafia while your ass takes time to heal.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“That’s Lev’s job. Not mine.”

*

When I got to the bedroom, I was met with the sexy sight of Lev sitting on the armchair holding a length of black rope in his hands. His white shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a rippling body of muscle underneath. My eyes wandered up from the bulge in his slacks to the grey hairs on his chest before I looked at his face.

He had a neat, trimmed grey beard that matched his thick, grey hair and his eyes were a shade of blue so pale that they almost seemed grey. They were usually full of affection that he tried to conceal whenever he was working but now they were lined with anger and a hint of lust.

“Lev-” I began to speak but he cut me off.

“So now you think you can treat me like trash because you’re in charge?” He snapped and I shook my head.

“No, I-”

“Take off your clothes.”

I blushed, feeling like a child who has just gotten scolded. I began to peel off my clothes quickly, not wanting to further anger my lover by making him wait.

Once I was naked, Lev rose to his feet and came over to inspect me. I held my breath as he walked around me in slow, daunting steps while his eyes roamed over every inch of my vulnerable skin.

“Artemy Aslanov,” He said my name slowly as he ran a hand along my right arm, teasing my tattooed flesh. He snickered when I shivered from the simple touch. His eyes flickered down to my pulsing erection. “What would the world think if they saw you like this? What would they say if they knew what a slut you are?”

I let out an involuntary whimper at his harsh words. “O-Only for you...I haven’t been with anyone that isn’t you.”

“And yet you still have the gall to disrespect me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling my heart ache.

“Not yet,” Lev tsked, leaning in close without kissing me. “But you will be.”

Fuck.

I thought back to when I was younger. I was so insufferable it made my parents weep. They’d always been too soft on me. But not Lev...

Lev would pull me by the ears and pinch me under tables when I misbehaved. That small bit of discipline was what I’d craved. And after getting a little, it was no wonder I wanted more.

More pain.

More him.

“I want you on the bed with your hands behind your back,” He ordered. “Face down, ass up. Show me that slutty hole of yours.”

“Yes, Lev.”

I moved to lie on the bed, getting into the humiliating position he wanted me in. I noticed that the sheets had been washed like I asked and that made me happy. I asked for them to be washed and changed daily because I’d just feel uncomfortable if they weren’t and Lev always made sure it was done. He never made me feel silky about it either.

I felt him move behind me and soon he was tying me up, keeping my hands bound behind my back. He tied my arms together from below my shoulder all the way to my wrists. It was uncomfortable but not too much. It hurt enough to make it pleasurable and my cock throbbed as if in agreement.

I heard Lev undoing his belt and my breath hitched in anticipation. I knew my men would be ashamed to see me like this; tied up and bent over for a man who had been my family’s butler for more years than I’d been alive. But I didn’t care. I loved Lev and I loved the way he treated me. I was the most powerful man in the world but I was also his needy, masochistic whore.

“I’m tempted to hit you so hard you won’t be able to go to work tomorrow,” He said and the thought of that made me leak onto the sheets.

Fuck. We’d have to change them as soon as we were done.

“Would you like that, my slut?” He teased and I gasped when he rubbed his leather belt along the underside of my cock. “Would you like it if I hurt you so much that you couldn’t even walk?”

“Yes,” I moaned, arching my back as best I could with my arms stilk bound. “Hurt me, Lev. Please. I’ve been so naughty.”

I felt horrible for snapping at him like that and the only way I’d feel better is with a harsh punishment. As if that was enough to help him make up his mind, he swung the belt back and I heard it slice through the air before it hit my ass with incredible force.

“LEV!”

I moaned, toes curling as the brutal assault on my ass began. Lev took out all his anger on me, letting me know just how much I’d pissed him off with every strike of his belt.

There was no doubt in my mind that my ass would be bruised later and I was glad. I knew it was fucked up but I thought about the light spankings he used to give me when I was younger. I used to dream about him hurting me like this. Having that dream come true brought me more joy than I could ever explain.

“This is for raising your voice at me!” He shouted, bringing the belt down harder than before.

*SMACK!*

“This is for breaking a perfectly good bowl!”

*SMACK!*

“Oh- Ahhh~” I moaned, “Lev!”

“This is for my trousers!”

*SMACK!*

I was sweating, trying hard not to come as my ass burned and ached like never before.

“And this-” Lev snarled, “This is for my favourite pair of shoes!”

*SMACK!!!*

I cried out, eyes rolling to the back of my head as my body collapsed against the sheets. My body hurt; the rope around my arms was starting to get more painful and my ass felt like it was on fire. But my dick had never been harder.

“We’re not done yet, Artmey-” Lev grabbed me by the hips and hoisted me back up onto my knees with ease. I choked on air, trembling when I felt his cock pressing against my entrance. “I still have to fuck you.”

“L-Lube,” I whimpered out when he began to push into my hole dry.

He spat down onto my rim and rubbed himself around my hole before he started to push in once again.

“That’s all the lube you’re getting.”

Fuck. He’s so hot.

I groaned, biting down on the sheets when he entered me with one sharp thrust. It burned and tears welled in my eyes but Lev didn’t care to be gentle. He was putting me in my place, making sure I wouldn’t dare to cross him again. And I loved it.

“NGH! UGH! FUCK!” I whined as he slammed into me, grabbing onto my waist with a deathly grip.

“Who owns this ass, Artemy? Who do you belong to?” His voice was a low growl as he took me hard and rough.

“You!” I all but screamed, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m yours, Lev! All yours!”

“And don’t you dare talk to me like you did again,” He snapped, bringing his hand back to spank my already sore asscheek.

“I won’t!” I sobbed, “I promise!”

“Good.”

Lev fucked me until I came untouched. But even then he didn’t stop until he was satisfied. He came with a feral groan, burying himself balls deep inside me and making sure every single drop of his cum was deep in my abused hole.

When he pulled out, he began to undo the rope tied around my arms. I manged to collect myself enough to stop crying but my vision was blurred and I felt completely drained.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked out when Lev pulled me into his arms. He wiped my tears away and placed a kiss on my forehead. I snuggled closer to him, inhaling his scent and feeling comforted by it. “I never should have raised my voice at you. And I never should have flung that bowl at you.”

“It’s alright. As long as you’ve learned your lesson,” He said, running his hand along my arm. “I know you’d never hurt me. You were just angry and you had every right to be. I fired the chef responsible for the hair. I’m sorry that happened. Are you alright?”

He was referring to my OCD. Sometimes, when it got really bad, I could hurt myself. I had a few scars on my arms that I had to cover up with tattoos.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him as I nuzzled his neck. “Just sore. I think I might really have to take the day off tomorrow.”

“I’ll be sure to take good care of you,” He promised.

I smiled softly, letting myself relax around one of the few men I didn’t have to be strong around.

“I love you, Artemy,” He whispered. “And you can be a mafia king to everyone else but you’ll always be my lover first.”

“I love you, Lev,” I responded. “Always.”