Kidnapped Bride (Ruthless Mafia Kings #1)

1. Nikolai

NIKOLAI

My black Escalade idled two blocks south of Tatiana, and I sat in the back seat watching Brighton Beach Avenue through tinted windows.

Three of Xavier Markin's men had been camped on that corner for six days now, dealing product on a street deep in my territory, and they stood there in the open, peddling their garbage to anyone who walked past, as if the name Dragonov didn't mean a thing anymore.

That was going to change tonight.

Yakov sat in the driver's seat glancing between the street in front of us and the side mirror where he could watch for lurkers that might pop up on us.

We had a whole team ready to move at a moment's notice.

We were just waiting for the final piece of this puzzle to arrive so we could put my plan in motion.

"She's not here yet," Yakov said. He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel nervously, despite being snapped at multiple times to knock it off.

"She'll be here." I adjusted my position and kept watching. This night had been written in blood for weeks now, and I'd be damned if I was going to go home without getting what I wanted.

"But what if she doesn't show?" Vlad looked over at me with skepticism burrowed into the lines on his forehead. Always the doubter—how many times had I taught him not to doubt me?

"Then we handle the corner anyway and I find another way to get to Markin." I leaned forward and checked the time on the dash. The clock showed just before eight, and the reservation I made was for eight on the nose. "She'll show."

Yakov glanced at me in the rearview with a glower of unspoken thoughts I wanted to wipe off his face.

If I spelled out every detail of every thought that went through my head to these men every time I had a plan, all we would do was talk. Vlad had learned to follow my lead even when he doubted.

Yakov had not.

"Say it," I growled, narrowing my eyes at his reflection in the mirror.

"I don't get it," he said. "We've got enough firepower in these two trucks to wipe that corner clean and send Markin a message he can't ignore. Why are we sitting here waiting on some girl?"

"She's not some girl. She's Xavier Markin's daughter." These fools knew nothing of how to manipulate a man.

If this war between Markin's men and mine would ever end, it would come after he bowed.

Because God knows I had zero plans to bend a knee to him.

And the best way to bring a powerful man to his knees was to take something he valued more than his own life.

"Markin will replace any men we remove in a matter of a few hours. He's got men to spare. But he can't replace his own daughter…" My explanation got their wheels turning and Yakov's eyes darkened as he turned again toward the side view mirror.

A woman in a dark dress walked past, catching my attention, and it made me think of Kira again.

It had been so simple to set this all up.

A woman like her was thirsty for attention.

Raised by a man who drove his own wife away and ignored his children, Kira was nothing but low-hanging fruit.

He sheltered her so much, she was starved for attention, and when a man like me came across her path, she ate it up.

We'd been texting for two weeks now.

This little meet up was inevitable despite her reservations about my age.

She couldn't help herself.

I told her my name was Niko, that I was in business, that I lived in Brooklyn.

None of it was a lie, technically.

I just left out the parts that would've made her run. Like the fact that most men in this city knew me as "The Dragon".

When my phone buzzed with my five-minute reminder for our reservation, I sat a little straighter, reaching for the door handle.

"It's time," I said. "Get Tyren on the radio and tell him two minutes after I'm out of this car, they move on the corner.

Make sure it's loud and chaotic, and I don't want those Markin soldiers getting away.

Take them out, and don't hurt the girl."

When a silver Audi rounded the corner and stopped right in front of Tatiana, I pulled the handle and slid out of the car. "That's her," I told them. "Start the clock."

I crossed the street without rushing, weaving through the foot traffic until she came into full view again.

She was gorgeous with her hair done up and that flattering dress on, curves for days, but I kept my eyes on the prize.

It wasn't her body or her attention I needed, not even her flattery or the fact that a woman her age could find me attractive still in my forties.

I needed Kira Markin in my possession to manipulate her father, and I would stop at nothing to make that happen.

"Kira," I called out in a happy tone as I closed the distance to her before she got to the door.

She turned, and the second she saw me, her whole face lit up.

Then her lower lip worked its way between her teeth and color dusted her cheeks.

It made her all the more radiant.

"Niko." She waited as I leaned in, pressing my cheek to hers in a mock hug.

My hands lingered on her elbows, and I didn't bother hiding the way my eyes roamed over her curves, down the front of her dress where the curve of her tits pushed out, giving me an eyeful.

"You look intoxicating," I growled out, not backing away, and she splayed her hand over her cleavage, blushing harder. She smelled incredible too, something expensive and citrusy, a hint of vanilla.

"I'm not easy, if that's what you're thinking." Her smile was a warning, though we'd had our share of banter and flirting over text messages.

I couldn’t begin to tell you how much research went into those conversations so I would sound youthful and happy, not the reserved, guarded man I was.

"I made no assumption. I merely pointed out that you rouse something in me…" I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

My men would be moving by now, ready to make that hit in mere seconds.

I just had to hold her here a bit longer and the magic would work itself out.

The version of me she'd been talking to for three weeks would've smiled, so I did, though it felt awkward and forced. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Starving. I skipped lunch because I was too nervous to eat…" She'd told me a few times how strict her father was, what he'd say if he knew she was talking to a man so much older than her, and every time she had, I tried to assuage her concerns.

"Don't be nervous," I said, winking. "I'm a teddy bear and a gentleman."

"Too late." She grinned and glanced at the restaurant entrance. "Should we go in?"

I held my elbow out to her, and she wrapped her arms around mine and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the two SUVs come around the corner squealing their tires.

They stopped hard in front of the barbershop, and the doors swung open before the vehicles had fully settled.

The first gunshot split the air, and Kira turned into my chest, pushing at me as fear consumed her.

I wrapped my arms around her and turned, pinning her against the brick exterior of the restaurant.

A second shot followed, then a third, and then the whole block erupted.

Muzzle flashes strobed in the darkness and a rapid chain of gunshots echoed off the buildings on both sides of us.

People on the sidewalk screamed and scattered, running for doorways, ducking behind cars, and Kira's body locked up.

"Niko—" Her whole body was shaking in fear, even as I sheltered her. "Niko, oh, God, oh, God—"

I didn't bother wasting time looking to see if my men were successful.

I turned her in my arms and started moving her quickly.

"We have to get out of here," I said sternly.

It was easier to act like I was concerned than it was to pretend I was happy or falling in love. This part felt more natural to me.

"Oh, my God," she whimpered as tears streaked down her cheeks and she pressed her palms over her ears. Every step we took carried us farther away from the chaos.

"It's okay, just move faster," I coached, willing the thrill out of my tone.

Giddiness swelled in my chest as with one arm around her shoulders, I walked her across the street.

Yakov had already pulled the Escalade to the curb ahead of us, and I met his eyes through the windshield.

My plan was working perfectly.

Removing her by force had never been an option in this city.

Markin had men watching everywhere.

But in this chaos, walking her out under her own volition made perfect sense.

She was my willing participant, going with me for her own safety.

Kira didn't even question the car or ask whose it was or why it was waiting or how it got there so fast.

So naive, so trusting, she climbed into the back seat and I climbed in after her.

And before we had even moved, her face buried into my neck and I could feel her body shuddering in tears.

I nodded at Yakov and he pulled out, merging into traffic.

"Oh, my God, what happened?" she whimpered, but her grip on me was loosening.

She sat up and wiped her eyes, then looked over her shoulder at the scene vanishing behind us as we sped away.

"I'm not sure, a drive by or something." Reaching up, I wiped a few tears from her face and cradled her cheek. "Are you okay?" Feigned compassion was almost impossible for me, but she was probably so out of it thanks to adrenaline that she hardly noticed how I struggled not to gloat.

She nodded, then wiped more tears and turned to face the front. "You, uh… you should just take me home." Her hands trembled as she straightened the hem of her dress and adjusted it on her knees.

"We've hardly gotten a moment…" I frowned in manufactured sadness. "Come to my home. Let me cook for you."

Kira's head shook, her hair starting to come loose from its pins. "I don't know, Niko. We should've stayed there. We were witnesses."

"There were hundreds of witnesses, Kira. They'll hardly miss us. We can call the police if you'd like, but we're safer in this car." The logic won her over, but still she resisted.

"I just think I should go home. I'm scared and—"

"Please," I said, taking her hand. I brought it to my lips and pressed a kiss to her palm, then to her wrist. "I promise, I am a perfect gentleman."

Her eyes rose to meet my gaze and with her bottom lip trembling, she tried to smile. It didn’t matter what she said at this point.

She was going to my house, like it or not.

She was already in my possession and I had no intention of letting her go.

But her willingness would make it easier to get her out of my car and into my house without my neighbors hearing, at least.

"You know me. We've been texting for weeks now. Just one dinner, and then I'll have my driver bring you home." I sensed more than saw Yakov watching the exchange in the mirror as Kira softened and dropped her head.

"Okay… for dinner. But then I have to go home."

"Good girl," I praised.

Now, so long as she didn't change her mind, things would work out as I planned.

And soon, her father would be retreating from my territory back to his own hell where he belonged.

What happened to her after that would be her choice.

Only time would tell.