15. Dominic
Ipace the floor of Lev’s kitchen, feeling my sanity slip a little more with each passing second. It’s been eight days since I last saw Natalya, and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. All five of the Melnikov brothers look exactly how I feel. This isn’t easy for any of us, but we still haven’t been able to find Alexei or Adrian Zolotov. It seems the two men are just as paranoid as we are and they don’t tell their men anything they don’t absolutely need to know. The three Zolotov men we found and tortured for information were of zero help to us, and it’s put us all in a foul mood.
Matvey scrubs a hand over his face, one that’s still covered in dried blood from the fucker we just finished up with, and lets out a heavy sigh. “I miss my wife.”
If this were any other situation, I’d laugh my ass off at the sight of a bloody Bratva boss looking so devastated because he misses his wife, but the truth is we all feel the same damn way. The only difference is that Natalya isn’t my wife yet, and I have to hide how I feel about her.
“Tell me about it,” Vitaly grumbles. “If I have to jerk off over Skype one more time, I think I might cry. It’s so fucking depressing.”
Lev leans against the counter, and I’ve never seen him look so out of it before. The dark circles under his eyes make it clear he hasn’t slept in days. He looks like a man who’s about to snap. He starts to pour himself another vodka when one by one all their phones start to go off. My heart stops in my chest, and when I meet Lev’s eyes, I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing. Something is wrong. Something is very fucking wrong.
While they reach for their phones, I grab mine and send a text to Natalya, asking if she’s okay. It’s after three-thirty in the morning, and when I don’t get a response, I hope like hell it’s because she’s sleeping peacefully, but my gut tells me I’m wrong. My instincts are usually spot-on, and right now they’re screaming at me.
“What’s going on?” I ask when I see Lev’s face pale. Nothing fazes this man, and now he’s so pale he looks like he might pass out. When his eyes meet mine, reminding me so much of his daughter, I want to tell him to stop, that I’ve changed my mind and I don’t actually want to hear what he’s about to say, because I know the next words out of his mouth are going to break me.
“Natalya’s gone.”
His voice is barely more than a whisper, but I hear it all the same. I grip the edge of the counter, feeling the last of my sanity start to crumble. I can’t lose her. I won’t fucking survive it.
Roman is only a couple of feet away, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from another room when he says, “Andrik is missing, and Vitya was stabbed. Jolene said she and Natalya couldn’t sleep and made some tea a little after two, then she went and laid down. She woke up to Svetlana screaming and ran to see what was going on. She found her by the back door with Vitya. He must’ve been coming in for his sleep shift when Andrik got to him. That’s why no one noticed he was missing. The others were outside patrolling around the house like they were supposed to.”
“No one else is missing,” Danil adds, “and they found prints outside the house and on the path in the woods. Boot prints and then Natalya’s bare feet.”
I bite back a groan. All I can think about is how much my sweet girl hates putting her bare feet on the ground. She must’ve been terrified, and I wasn’t there to keep her safe. I failed her. I completely and utterly failed her.
Danil sighs and puts his phone on the counter so we can see the map on the screen. Small dots pulse across it, and when he scrolls into the spot with a large number of them, he says, “Her phone is at the house. We can’t use it to track her.”
“There has to be a way to find her,” I say. “I don’t care if we have to tear this goddamn city apart piece by fucking piece. There has to be a way to find her.”
They’re all too worried about Natalya to notice how badly this is killing me, but Vitaly walks over and squeezes my shoulder, and I swear I almost hug the fucker.
“We can track him,” he says, squeezing my shoulder again and silently begging me to keep my shit together.
“Fuck yeah we can.” Matvey smacks the counter and looks over at Lev, who’s now on the phone with a distraught Jolene and trying to calm her down. “Andrik has been with us for two years, and the stupid fuck decided to switch sides, but I’m guessing he didn’t ditch all his equipment when he kidnapped an unarmed woman and ran into the woods like a little bitch.”
I look at them, not understanding why they suddenly look excited. Vitaly smacks my back and says, “We put trackers on everything—phones, vehicles, their weapons. You name it, and we’ve probably put a tracker on it. That stupid fuck has no idea that he’s a giant beacon leading us right to him.”
Lev promises Jolene that he’s going to find their daughter and then promises to call her back as soon as he knows anything. Once he hangs up he waits while Danil pulls up the info on his phone.
“Fuck, brother, tell me you can track him before I lose my goddamn mind.”
I’ve never heard Lev sound scared before, but there’s no hiding the quiver in his voice. Not being able to protect his daughter is killing him, and I know exactly how he feels. If she was taken right after her mom went to bed, then she’s been gone for almost ninety fucking minutes, and neither one of us wants to think about what that could mean.
Before Danil can answer, he gets another message on his phone. I watch him click on something, and a second later Natalya’s screams fill the room.
“Jesus fuck,” Lev groans, gripping the counter for support as he drops his phone onto the granite like it’s burning him to hold it.
I grab it and then wish like hell I hadn’t because the movie playing on his screen is going to haunt me until the day I die. Natalya’s beautiful face is bloody and swollen, and her hands are tied behind her back. She’s in nothing but her pajamas, and she looks so damn small compared to the man who’s beating the hell out of her. I let out a pained groan when he pulls back and punches her so hard she’s thrown back onto the hard floor. She’s not moving, and I swear my heart fucking stops beating until I see the faint rise and fall of her chest. The man laughs and kicks her hard in the ribs, pulling one last scream from her before she passes out.
When I look up, the room is silent, and the men around me share the exact same expression that I know I’m wearing—shock, disgust, and a murderous rage that’s pushing closer and closer to the surface.
“Who the fuck is that man?” I ask them.
“That’s Adrian Zolotov,” Lev says in a voice that I barely recognize as his.
When his phone buzzes, we all look down at it, terrified of what we’re going to see next. There’s a small moment of relief when I see it’s a message and not another video. It’s in Russian, so I turn to Vitaly.
“What’s it say?”
He avoids looking at me. “They’re going to keep hurting her,” he says, but I can tell he’s holding back.
“I need to know what it says.”
“It’s not good,” he says, keeping his voice low.
“I need you to tell me what the fuck that message said.”
Still whispering so Lev doesn’t have to hear it again, he tells me, “It said, The next video will be of me taking your precious daughter’s virginity, Lev. The last video will be of me killing her. You fucked with the wrong family.”
Bile threatens to rise up the back of my throat, but I tamp it down and look to Danil. “What’s the fucking address? Where are they holding her?”
He’s already showing the satellite footage and a map to the others, and when he looks up at me, I can tell he’s surprised by the rage in my voice.
“They’re an hour north of the farmhouse. It’s a brick house out in the middle of nowhere.”
I’m already typing out a message for Dario and walking towards the door when Roman runs over to me and grabs my arm to stop me.
“Let me go,” I tell him, jerking my arm away. “If I leave now, maybe I can get there before he makes the second video.”
“We’re going together,” he tells me.
“Roman, I don’t fucking have time for this.”
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and my niece, but she’s my niece, Dominic, and I’m not going to let you put her life in more danger because you aren’t thinking clearly.”
He looks back at his brothers. “Text everyone the address. The guards stay at the farmhouse, and everyone else is to go to Natalya.” He turns his head towards the hall and yells for Luka, Max, and Val. The boys were trying to get a few hours of sleep, but they all come running out at the sound of Roman’s voice. Luka is pulling on a shirt with the other two right behind him, and as soon as they see their dads’ faces, they know something has gone very wrong. Roman fills them in on everything, and minutes later we’re leaving the apartment.
“I’m riding with you,” Vitaly tells me.
“I’m not going slow so the others can keep up,” I warn him.
“Fine by me.”
He gets in the passenger seat while I read Dario’s response of On our way and get in the driver’s side. He calls Katya, speaking to her in Russian while I peel out of the garage and race out onto the street. I wasn’t kidding about not going slow. They all have the address and can meet us there, but I have the fastest goddamn car, and I’m going to put it to good use.
Even at this hour, the roads aren’t empty. I weave my way through the very early morning traffic, ignoring the angry honks and pissed-off looks. They can all go fuck themselves. I’m not slowing down for anyone or anything, and as soon as I merge onto the interstate that will take us north, I creep up past two hundred on the speedometer while Vitaly buckles his seatbelt and ends the call with his wife. I see several cars behind me, the burnt orange color of Val’s Jaguar, Roman’s black Porsche, and Danil’s Aston Martin, but when I push the car to two-twenty, the distance between us grows.
“Don’t you dare get us killed,” Vitaly says from beside me.
“No way in fuck am I dying before I save Natalya,” I tell him. “Hear anything else?”
He swipes through his messages before answering. “Matvey’s driving so Danil can get more satellite footage.” After a few seconds, he gets a new text. “He said there’s only a couple of cars parked out front. I guess they thought the house was secluded enough to not warrant bringing a bunch of men.”
“They’ll regret that soon enough,” I say, passing a semi truck and hoping there aren’t any state troopers watching this stretch of the interstate. I don’t have time to fuck around with cops. Every second feels like a lifetime. My mind replays a constant loop of the video I watched, adding in all the imagined horrors that could be happening to her right this very second. He’s already a dead man, but if he rapes her, I will skin that fucker alive and then set him on fire.
“We’re going to get her back. She’s going to be knocked out for a while after the beating he gave her.”
He stops, and I know it’s so he can get control of himself. This may not be killing him in the same way it’s killing me, but it’s still killing him all the same. Natalya is like a daughter to him. I can see the love in his eyes every time he looks at her. This is personal for all of us.
“We’ll get there before he starts the second video,” he finally says, and I can tell by his tone that he refuses to accept the possibility of any other outcome. I’m right there with him. I can’t let my mind go there. I’ll never come back from it if I do.
The drive is the longest of my life, and by the time I slow down to hit the turnoff, I’m running on nothing but rage and adrenaline. “Where is it?”
Vitaly looks down at his phone’s screen. “Take the first right.”
I do as he says, following the deserted side road. I’m forced to slow down because it’s a gravel road with way too many curves in it. When I come around another corner, Vitaly points ahead of us.
“Park up there next to that fence. The house is right beyond that. We can go on foot the rest of the way.”
I don’t argue. The last thing I want is for them to see us coming and decide to cut their losses by killing Natalya and running off. I park off to the side and then reach over to the glovebox, pulling out the extra gun and bullets I leave in there. Vitaly checks his own weapon while I get out of the car and do the same. I already have one gun in a shoulder holster, but you can never have too many weapons, so I stuff the extra clips in my pocket and click the safety off on the gun I’m still holding.
“The others are about ten minutes away. We need to wait for them.”
I check my phone again. The last text from Dario is him letting me know that my men are right there with the Bratva. They’re all together, all about to arrive, and then we’ll have more than enough men and weapons to take care of any threat that might be waiting for us. The smart thing would be to wait, but my heart is telling me to run up to the house and shoot my way in. Before I can take a single step towards the house, Vitaly’s hand is on me, gripping my forearm tightly.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he warns. “We’re waiting for the others, and then we’re going to circle this place and close in. We get one shot at this, and I’m not going to let you fuck it up at the last second because you’re not thinking clearly. Adrian didn’t bring a small army with him, but there are enough men to put up a good fight.”
When I hesitate, he says, “If you weren’t in love with the woman we’re about to rescue, what would you be doing right now?”
I turn my head to glare at him, because he already knows what I’ll say. “I would wait for the others and circle around the motherfucking house.”
He can’t bring himself to smile, but he does let go of my arm and smack my back. “Exactly. Now calm the fuck down. They’ll be here in less than two minutes.”
I stare in the direction that I know the house is in, feeling like my heart is slowly being squeezed with each passing second. I was raised in a catholic family, but I’ve never been much of a believer. I’ve seen too much shit, and the day we found my sister’s body sealed the deal on me ever believing in a benevolent being on high. I may not be able to pray to a god I don’t believe in, but that doesn’t stop my mind from reaching out to Isabella. I believe in her, and I have to believe that a part of her is still out there somewhere, that she didn’t just completely disappear when that bastard stole the life from her, so I beg her to watch over Natalya because losing the woman I love will be the end of me. I’m as certain of that as I’ve ever been of anything.
I’m still silently begging my sister for help when I hear the sound of tires crunching on gravel. Looking back, I see the long line of cars, and within seconds they’re parked and heavily armed men are running towards us.
“Anything?” Lev asks, looking as murderous as I feel.
“No,” Vitaly tells him. “We haven’t heard or seen anything. We need to circle the property and close in.”
The order get passed around, and when the men start to fan out, I feel Dario and Sandro come up on either side of me. Dario hands me an earpiece, and I put it in, making sure it works and that I can hear the others.
“We’re going to get her back,” Sandro tells me in Italian.
I look at my cousins, knowing they’d give their lives for me in a second, but that’s not what I need right now, so I meet their eyes and say, “Her life comes first, and that’s a fucking order.”
Sandro nods, but Dario hesitates. When he sees that there’s no way in hell I’m backing down from this, he finally nods and says, “Fine.”
That one word is all I need, and when Vitaly and his brothers start making their way to the house, my men and I are right there with them. Dawn has fully hit, ruining any cover the darkness may have given us, but it also makes it easy to scan the overgrown field and determine it’s empty, mainly by the simple fact that no one’s tried to shoot at us yet. I don’t see anyone except the men who came here with us, but I know our luck can’t last too much longer. Experience has taught me a lot of things, and one of those hard lessons is that nothing is ever as easy as you’d like it to be, and another is that nothing is ever as it seems.
I look over to see that Roman, Danil, and Vitaly each have their sons close to them. The younger generation has been allowed to join us, but they’re only being given a limited amount of freedom on this mission. They’re here mainly to learn and because it involves their cousin. They have a right to be here, to see firsthand what happens to someone who fucks with their family because soon it’s going to be their job to make sure the women are protected and the men who dare to threaten them are dealt with.
The brick house comes into view, but we’re still unseen, hidden by the tall grass in the field that’s easily waist high. Luckily, I’ve been wearing nothing but tactical gear all week and I’m not having to crawl my way through this shit in a suit. Keeping one of my black boots firmly on the ground, I rest my other knee in the loose dirt and keep my gun trained on the house. I’m positioned at the side, and I can see two men near the front corner. They’re armed, guns in hand, but they’re pointed down, and I can tell by the lazy glances the men are giving the field we’re currently hiding in that they’re not nearly as alert as they should be. The Zolotov Bratva has gotten lazy. If my men acted like this, I’d shoot them myself just for the principle of it.
I hear Russian in my ear, and I hiss out a quick, “In fucking English,” because I need to know what the hell is going on and no one in the Bratva speaks Italian, so English is going to be our language of the day.
The same man who was just speaking starts again but this time in English. His accent is so thick I can barely understand it, but I’m not about to complain.
“Nine armed men around house. No visual on woman.”
I recognize Roman’s voice when he says, “We take them out on the count of five, and then I want everyone in that fucking house. Keep the men inside alive if possible, but Natalya’s safety comes above all else.”
I raise my gun and aim it at one of the men in front of me. I choose the fucker who’s leaning a shoulder against the house, relaxing and smoking a goddamn cigarette while my woman is being tortured inside. Fuck him. The quick death I’m about to give him is way too good for him, but I don’t have time for anything else.
Roman starts the countdown, and as soon as he gets to one, I fire my gun, hearing the others do the same, and watch the man’s head jerk back with the bullet I’ve just put in his brain. Several other bullets hit him and the man standing beside him. Their bodies jerk and flail from the impact, but I don’t stop to watch and enjoy their deaths. I run for the front door, Lev and my cousins right beside me.
The front door is unlocked, but sneaking in isn’t something I’m worried about since there was no hiding the gunshots that just went off moments before. I have just enough time to meet Lev’s eyes before we both step in, guns raised and ready to do whatever it takes to save Natalya. Somewhere in the distance, I hear the sound of the backdoor being kicked in, and then yelling in Russian and a gun going off.
Lev and I run through the living room and straight into hell. The kitchen floor is covered in blood, some of it splattered onto the cabinets, most of it pooled on the floor, and Natalya’s barely conscious body is bent over the table. Alexei is standing behind her, one hand gripping her shorts like he was in the act of pulling them down before we barged in and ruined his fun. I can’t see his other hand, though, and I have no idea if he’s pressing a weapon to her.
I point my gun at his head. “Get your fucking hands off her.”
Alexei grins and then looks at Lev, who’s still standing right beside me. “Your daughter’s been a lot of fun to play with, but we’re just getting to the good part.”
“If I see your dick, I’m shooting it off,” Lev tells him, lowering his gun so it’s pointed right at Alexei’s crotch. “Now get the fuck away from my daughter.”
“Do it,” Adrian says, looking over at his son. I wouldn’t call the look he’s giving him concern or even anything resembling love. It’s more calculating. He’s a Bratva boss with no sentimental attachments. He’s already trying to figure out how he can negotiate his ass out of this.
My eyes run over Natalya. She’s bleeding from so many places that it’s impossible to tell how many wounds she has, but her chest is moving, and when her blue eyes meet mine, I see them fill with fresh tears.
“Let her go, Son,” Adrian says again. “You’ve had your fun. It’s time for the bosses to talk now.”
Alexei looks like a petulant child who’s just had his favorite toy taken away when he finally steps back, giving Natalya’s ass a hard smack as he does so. She winces from the pain, looking like she’s seconds from passing out. Matvey grabs Alexei from behind, roughly shoving him to the ground while Roman does the same to Adrian.
Lev and I close the distance, both of us running our eyes over her, terrified of touching her and causing more damage to her beaten body. I can tell by her breathing that he’s cracked at least one rib, probably several, and the wrists that are tied behind her back are swollen and her fingers are turning a purplish-blue color that has me quickly reaching for my knife.
“I’ve got you, principessa,” I murmur, not caring that her dad can hear me. I very carefully cut the tight fabric from her wrists, grimacing when she moans from the pain.
She tries to say something, but it’s more of a choked cry than anything else.
“It’s okay, princess. You’re safe now,” her dad tells her, gently stroking her head, and I can tell he’s fighting back tears. I think Lev could withstand any kind of torture thrown at him, but not this, not seeing his daughter bloody and beaten and in so much pain she can’t even talk.
Natalya tries again, and when Lev hears the “D-” she starts to say, he leans closer to her, but instead of the Dad he’s expecting, “Dom” falls from her lips. I register the hurt look on his face right before I bend down and kiss her cheek.
Pressing my lips to her ear, I whisper, “I’m here, baby. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She relaxes at my words, and after running my hands over her enough to convince myself that moving her isn’t going to cause a spinal injury or internal bleeding, I very carefully pick her up and cradle her against my chest. She whimpers in pain and then slumps against me, one hand clutching my shirt like she’s scared to death I’m going to let her go. I want to tell her that’s never going to fucking happen again, but before I can, Lev steps closer and kisses his daughter’s head.
“I love you, honey.” He kisses her forehead again and whispers, “I’m so sorry, princess.”
When he meets my eyes, the look he gives me isn’t nearly as sweet. He’s not going to say anything and risk upsetting his daughter, but it’s clear that he and I are going to be having a chat very fucking soon. I give him a tight nod, letting him know I’m ready whenever he is, because I’m not backing down from this. I’m marrying his daughter whether he likes it or not.
“I love you, Dad,” Natalya whispers, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on above her.
Lev kisses her head once more and then grabs his phone so he can call Jolene and let her know their daughter is okay. With Natalya in my arms, I take a quick look around the room. A man I don’t recognize is bleeding from a shoulder wound while Danil and Max zip tie his wrists behind his back. The same is being done to Andrik. The two Zolotov men are being led roughly from the room by Roman and Luka, and I wish I could see the look on Adrian’s face when he realizes he’s not going to be able to negotiate his way out of this, but that would require me to leave Natalya, and that’s not going to fucking happen. He and his son will be dying slow deaths. Maybe I’ll be able to witness and take part in it and maybe I won’t, and for the first time in my life I really don’t give a fuck. The woman curled up in my arms, who’s in so much pain she can only take shallow breaths that I feel hitting my neck, each one a reminder that she’s alive but broken, has completely changed my priorities in life. Bloodlust takes a backseat to the love I feel for her, because she’s more important to me than anything else.
I carry her to the porch and bring her closer so I can kiss her head. “I’m so sorry, principessa,” I whisper against her skin.
“I’m okay.” Her words are nothing but a featherlight whisper against my neck. “Take me home, Dominic. I want to go home.”
“I’m taking you to my house.” I’m not sure which home she’s thinking of, but as far as I’m concerned she only has one, and it’s mine. “My doctors will be waiting to take care of you. We’re going to get you fixed up, sweetheart. I just need you to hang on a bit longer.”
She lets out a breath, and it almost feels like she’s trying to laugh but can’t manage it. “That’s what I said. Take me home.”
I kiss her head again and walk her out front. A couple of the Bratva’s black SUVs are now in front of the house, and when I head to one, Vitaly and Val walk over to meet us. Pyotr, the man who works as a medic for the Bratva, is with them, and when he motions towards Natalya in silent permission to touch her, I nod my head and reluctantly lay her down on the SUV’s backseat. She grabs my hand, wanting me to stay, and I quickly kiss it.
“I’m not leaving you ever again, principessa. You don’t need to worry about that.”
She gives me a faint smile as I brush back a strand of her hair. It’s covered in blood, but so is the rest of her. Most of her cuts have clotted and dried, but a couple of them are still bleeding freely.
Pyotr scoots in and inspects her face before handing me some bandages to press to the ones that are still bleeding. I keep one against the biggest cut, the one that’s high up on her forehead near her scalp while he examines the rest of her. His touch is gentle, but she still hisses out a breath when he feels along her ribs.
“At least three cracked ribs,” he says, confirming what I’d already suspected. “I don’t think they’re broken, though.” He speaks in English so I can understand him, telling me that she’ll need stitches for a few cuts on her face. When he lifts her shirt to look at her stomach, I groan at the sight of the bruising that’s already started.
Lev walks over, eyeing his daughter’s beaten body like he’s searing the image into his brain. He won’t ever forgive himself for this, just like I’ll never forgive myself for it. We both love her, and we’ve both failed her. When he scrubs a hand over his face, I notice it’s covered in fresh blood, but I can tell it hasn’t calmed him in the slightest. No amount of revenge is going to make this situation okay.
“I don’t think she has any broken bones or internal bleeding,” Pyotr says, gently pushing down on her stomach, “but she should be seen by a doctor as quickly as possible to make sure.”
“I’m taking her to my house. I have a doctor who will be waiting and ready.”
Pyotr nods, but because he’s with the Bratva and doesn’t work for me, he looks to Lev for confirmation. Lev shoots me a look that makes it clear I’m still not his favorite person, but he nods his head at Pyotr because he knows my doctor will take damn good care of her.
The medic leaves, and I toss my keys to Vitaly. “I’m riding in here with her. Can you drive my car back for me?”
Vitaly catches them and Natalya surprises everyone by saying, “Don’t trust him. He drives like a maniac.”
Her voice is still barely more than a whisper and it’s laced with pain, but we all hear it. I see the relief that flashes in Lev’s eyes at hearing his daughter not only speak but crack a joke, and Vitaly gives her a big smile and reaches in to gently squeeze one of her legs.
“Why do you think Sveta drives the way she does? I taught her everything I know.”
Natalya reaches down and squeezes his hand, and I swear she’s about to make a bunch of hardened criminals cry if she keeps this up.
“I’ll bring her to see you as soon as the doctor says it’s okay,” he promises her.
“Thanks, Uncle Vitaly.”
He gives her hand another gentle squeeze and then steps aside so Val can lean in and give her a quick hug. His face isn’t revealing much, but his eyes are. He may be learning how to run a Bratva, but this is his first time seeing someone he cares about hurt, and I wish I could tell him it would be the last, but life’s too goddamn short for useless lies.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Nat.”
“I’ll do my best, Val,” she whispers back, and I can hear the exhaustion in her words. Her body is shutting down, trying like hell to heal itself.
He kisses her head and then leaves to join the others while Matvey gets in the driver’s seat and Lev walks around to the passenger side. I’m still squatting uncomfortably in front of Natalya, and when she reaches for me, I gladly pick her back up and sit where she’d just been laying, keeping her tucked up against my chest where she belongs.
The ride back is a quiet one. Natalya dozes off and on while Matvey and Lev hold a conversation. If their low voices didn’t make it clear that they don’t want me involved in it, then their insistence on keeping it purely in Russian would. I’m more than fine with not being included. All my focus is on Natalya, watching to make sure her chest keeps rising and falling, kissing her forehead when she whimpers in her sleep, and whispering how goddamn much I love her.
When we finally pull into my driveway and I carry her inside, Dr. Bianchi is ready and waiting with Tony, the med student he’s convinced is the man who will eventually take his place. Dario called ahead to fill them in on everything, and within minutes I’m carrying her into the room that would rival the city’s best hospital. I’ve spared absolutely no expense, letting Dr. Bianchi get whatever the hell he needed, and the result is a sort of mini hospital that can handle just about anything.
“Dominic,” Natalya moans, clutching at my hand.
“I’m right here, baby,” I tell her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are,” Dr. Bianchi informs me. Ignoring the look I give him, he smiles down at Natalya. “I’m glad to see you back in our home, young lady, but this isn’t how I wanted to do it.” He points to the dark-haired man next to him. “This is Tony. I’m training him, and he’s going to help me take a look at you.”
Tony smiles down at her while his blue eyes take in her injuries from behind his dark glasses. “It’s nice to meet you, Natalya.”
She gives him a weak smile and clutches my hand tighter.
“I promise you can see Dominic in just a few minutes, but Tony and I need to run some tests and examine you, and it’ll go a lot quicker if Dominic isn’t here taking up space and glaring at us every time we touch you,” Dr. Bianchi tells her.
When she hesitates, he says, “He’ll be right outside those doors.”
She looks at the doors we just came in and then back at me. “You’ll come if I call?”
“Nothing could stop me, principessa,” I promise her.
When she nods, I kiss her, softly pressing my lips to hers. “I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you, too.”
I kiss her again and then stand and leave so she can get taken care of. I walk across the hall to the room we’d made into a waiting room of sorts. There are a couple of couches and chairs and a counter in the corner with a coffeemaker and a small fridge. It’s a room where our men can wait if someone they care about is in surgery, and it’s the first time I’ve ever had cause to use it.
As soon as I step in, I turn to face Lev. He’s waiting for me like I knew he would be. His four brothers stand beside him, making it clear whose side they”re on. I expected nothing less. I can feel the anger radiating off him, and when he rears back and punches me in the jaw, I don’t try and stop him. I give him this one shot because I deserve it. I fucked his eighteen-year-old daughter and took her virginity when he trusted me to keep her safe. I deserve every damn bit of this punch, but when he pulls back to give me another, I raise my hands.
“You got your hit, Lev. I’m not going to just stand here and let you take another.”
“You motherfucker,” he yells at me. “I trusted you, you fucking bastard!”
“I know, and I’m sorry we kept it from you. We were going to tell you after the Zolotov threat was taken care of.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, still looking like he’s going to attack me at any second. Lev is an excellent fighter, a man no sane person would ever willingly go against, but I’m not about to back down.
“I love her,” I say, and he lets out a harsh laugh.
“You’re old enough to be her goddamn dad.”
The others watch as Lev starts to pace the small room we’re in. At the sound of footsteps, I look up to see Dario and Sandro. They eye the Melnikov brothers and Dario asks in Italian, “What do you want us to do?”
“Nothing,” I tell him. “He’s just pissed. He’s not going to try and kill me.”
I’m not entirely sure I’m right about that last part, but there’s enough tension in this room without adding my men into the mix.
“Let’s just relax and talk about this,” Vitaly says, taking a step closer to Lev while giving me a Thanks so much for involving me in this shitstorm look.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Lev tells him. “He was supposed to watch over my daughter and instead he fucked her and then fucked with her head so she’s infatuated with him now. She’s only eighteen! She doesn’t know what the hell she wants.”
“Okay, don’t punch me right now, but Jolene was only nineteen when you met her.” Vitaly holds his hands up and lets out a forced laugh when Lev glares at him. “I’m just saying that sometimes you do know what the hell you’re talking about when you’re that young.”
“Alina was eighteen when we started our relationship,” Matvey adds.
Lev turns to him. “Don’t you fucking start. This is my daughter we’re talking about.” He looks back and points a finger at me. “We have a goddamn photo of him holding her at your wedding, Matvey. That’s fucked up!”
“I mean, it’s a bit taboo,” Vitaly agrees, “but it’s not like he helped raise her. He was gone the whole damn time because he’s a big wuss about changing diapers.”
I raise a brow at him but don’t comment. He’s not completely wrong. I had no desire to be anywhere near a diaper.
“What are your plans?” Roman asks. “Where do you see this going?”
“Yeah, you’ve always made it clear you didn’t want anything serious. Is this just a fling for you?” Danil asks.
“It’s not a fling,” I tell them. “I love her, and I want to marry her.”
“Fuck you,” Lev says, but it’s not quite as forceful as the last time he said it. He walks over and sits down on one of the couches, exhausted and worried and trying like hell to process what I’ve just thrown at him.
The rest of us follow suit and take a seat. We sit in silence, no one wanting to break the small truce we’ve established, but Vitaly can only hold out for so long.
“I found a grey hair on my balls the other night when I was trimming up, and I don’t know what to do about that.”
“Jesus fuck,” Matvey groans, looking over at his brother.
Roman sighs while Danil fights a laugh.
Lev just says, “I don’t know what the fuck you expect me to do with that incredibly personal bit of information you’ve just shared with all of us.”
Dario mutters a “These Russians are crazy as fuck” to Sandro in Italian, and I don’t bother correcting him because my cousin’s not wrong.
“The point is life is short,” Vitaly continues like that should’ve been obvious from his grey ball hair story. “We’re getting older. We’ve reached the grey ball hair stage of our lives.”
“Speak for yourself,” Matvey says with a soft laugh. “Not all of us have reached that milestone.”
Vitaly scowls at him. “We’re the same age, Matvey. Don’t fucking pretend that I’m the only one getting grey pubes.”
“I mean, I can’t say I’ve found any either,” Roman says.
“None here,” Danil says with a laugh.
“Oh, fuck all of you,” Vitaly says. “I know you’re all lying right now, but whatever. In my grey ball hair wisdom, I’m telling you that life is short, too short to be getting pissed because Natalya went and fell in love with a fucking Italian.”
“Hey,” Sandro starts to say, but I wave my hand at him.
“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t know any better. His mom didn’t teach him any manners,” I tell him.
Vitaly laughs. “She sure as fuck did not.” He gestures towards himself. “This is what happens when you let a group of five wild Russian boys raise themselves.”
Matvey shrugs. “I think we turned out pretty damn good.”
Vitaly smiles at him. “We did, brother. God, we could’ve been so much worse.” He looks between me and Lev, a smirk playing at his lips. “So, Lev’s kind of like your dad now.”
“Jesus,” I groan, making them all laugh, well, everyone except Lev and I. We stare at each other, the realization hitting us at the same time. He’s going to be my father-in-law. Goddamnit.
“Don’t you fucking dare call me Dad,” he warns me, and even with my jaw throbbing and starting to swell, I can’t help but give a small smile because that’s as close to his blessing as I’m ever going to get, but I’ll take it.
Before Vitaly can crack another joke, Tony steps into the room and looks at me. Speaking in Italian, he says, “She’s fine, Mr. Alessi. There isn’t any internal bleeding, and her ribs should heal nicely. Dr. Bianchi gave her a mild sedative, but don’t worry, she and the baby are doing just fine.”
Dario and Sandro jerk their heads to look at me while Lev asks, “What the fuck did he just say?”