Stolen By The Bratva King (NYC Russian Royals #2)

Chapter 26

26

Leon

I could have called Viktor back rather than drag him to the office, but I needed some breathing space.

Emery got to me in more ways than one.

I knew she was beautiful and intelligent but didn’t realize she would bring out my goofy side. That aspect of my personality is usually reserved for my closest friends, but I want nothing more than to make her laugh.

And orgasm. I still can’t quite believe that happened, yet somehow, her virginity is still intact.

My mind begins to drift, picturing Emery’s soft thighs around my head when there’s a knock at the door.

Damn. Okay. Time to get real.

Viktor enters and sits in the chair opposite mine. “You asked about the barge where the trouble went down.” He hands me a cardboard file. “We got a few photos from the dock’s security. What’s weird is that no one seems to know these fuckers—I’ve asked around, but nada.”

“Why is that weird?” I ask. “I made my position on human trafficking extremely clear. Zero tolerance, ever, for the sale and exploitation of innocent people. So anyone in my territory with a brain cell to spare could anticipate a bad reaction if they tried it.”

“Agreed.” Viktor shows me a grainy black-and-white still. “Look at this; they board the boat together and wear the same clothes. I can’t identify who’s in charge.”

I look at the photo and frown. “They look like a fucking boy band. But you’re right; it’s unclear who’s running the show. Someone must know.”

“I think they’re from out of town,” Viktor says. “They’re either audacious or know fuck all about this city.”

“Or both.”

I sigh and sit back in my chair. I don’t care about this bullshit one bit; okay, so I’m supposed to care, but what’s the point of being pakhan if I have to do all the running around?

I need to set several essential things in motion if I’m to surprise Emery later. I’m not wasting my energy on bratva business when I have a beautiful wife to spoil.

“Something will come up,” I say. “Keep an ear to the ground. I don’t believe these guys are professional enough not to give themselves away eventually.”

“This would be much easier if you gave it your full attention.” Viktor’s tone is brusque. “I know you’re preoccupied, but?—”

“Are you telling me you can’t handle this, Viktor?” I ask. “Because things wouldn’t be as cushy for you if you no longer enjoyed my full confidence.”

He arches a brow. He’s a close friend but also a subordinate, and there’s a line.

“I’ll deal with it,” he says.

“Good. Keep me in the loop, and use whatever resources you need.”

It’s seven in the evening, and I’m again in the hospital parking lot. There’s still a dark patch where Dante’s blood stained the tarmac, and I grin as I step over it.

Emery’s friend Jess grins at me as I walk through the doors. She has the look of a woman who’s heard a lurid tale recently starring my good self, and she can’t keep the knowing twinkle out of her eye.

“I’ll go get her,” she says. “She’s just finishing up with the kid you brought in.”

When Jess turns away, I follow her, and she leads me to a room with a blue door. She catches my reflection in the glass and almost jumps clean out of her skin.

“You scared me half to death!” she exclaims. “I can’t let you in here, you’re not?—”

Emery opens the door and beckons me. “It’s okay,” she says to Jess. “Give us a minute.”

Jess leaves us alone, and Emery leads me into the small room. The wall is decorated with an under-the-sea mural, and in the bed, I see the boy who sobbed into the crook of my neck as I carried him to my car.

I remember babbling to him, saying all the things I wish someone would’ve said to me.

Easy, little buddy. It’s gonna be okay. Hold on. Just hold on.

“What’s wrong, Leon?” Emery is staring at me. “All the color’s gone from your face.”

“Leon?” the kid says, cocking his head inquisitively at me like a sparrow. “ To je tvoje ime ?”

“He rarely speaks his own language,” Emery says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “He asks in broken English where his Mami is. The social worker has no idea, but I thought you might.”

I draw a deep breath but can’t hold back the emotion, and the exhalation stutters from my chest, betraying me.

“What is it?” Emery asks.

The kid and I lock eyes. He’s been waiting for me. He knows I brought him here; I’m a guardian angel to him.

I’d rather tell him anything except the truth, but it has to be me. He won’t believe anyone else.

I sit on the chair beside him and point at myself. “I’m Leon,” I say. I tap his chest lightly. “You? Name?”

He gestures at Emery, throwing her a gappy smile that makes my heart ache. “Doc Bright!” he exclaims.

“Yes.” I point at him. “Your name.”

He sits up straight and clears his throat. “I am Desimir,” he says, enunciating carefully. “Desi. My name is Desi.” He reaches for me, putting his small hand on my forearm. “Leon. Mami?”

I draw my hand away, unable to bear his gentle faith. Why the fuck does the poor kid trust me?

I’m not a good guy, and for the rest of his luckless life, he will see my face in his mind’s eye, connecting it forever to the moment his world shattered beyond repair.

The worst thing is that he already knows. Desi’s face is already falling, his eyes growing duller as the last light in them goes out for good. He doesn’t need to understand my words to have all too good a grasp on the cold reality.

“Your Mami is gone,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Dead, Desi.”

His cheeks shine as tears roll down them, but he steadies himself. He makes his hand into a gun shape and directs it at his injured arm.

“Pew,” he says. He puts his hand on his stomach. “ Mami je oti?la .” His voice cracks, the weight of those words too heavy for a boy his size. “Mami gone.”

I nod, lost for words, and Desi breaks, wracking sobs shuddering through him.

Emery envelops him in her arms, and I sit motionless, trying to keep it all inside.

Push it down, Leon. You did all you could.

“He’s leaving here soon,” Emery says, rocking Desi gently as he cries into her lapel. “He has no one. No identity. No papers. He’s Serbian, but he won’t talk to the interpreter. They’ll send him upstate to a facility for illegal immigrants, or so I’m told, but he’ll have a terrible time there alone.”

I glance at her. “Emery, I know what you’re trying to say, but I don’t know where he came from. The boat thieves had Desi and his mother with them, and they got shot accidentally. If I’d known there were innocent people on board, I’d have let them go.”

Her gaze flicks to me, sharp and questioning, even as she runs her fingers through Desi’s hair.

She doesn’t believe me—not entirely. That damn fire in her eyes will be my undoing.

I despise myself for the lie. But what good would the unpalatable truth do now? It’d be no help for Desi, that’s for damn sure.

“Once he’s safely out of New York, I’ll put money in the right pockets and see to it he’s well cared for,” I say. “I promise, Emery. I didn’t want this to happen.”

Her glare softens. “I’m Desi’s responsible physician, so he can’t be discharged unless I’m satisfied. I can keep him here a little longer and try to get to the bottom of it myself.”

Is that a threat or a promise? Emery doesn’t trust me, but that’s the price I have to pay. The more she knows, the more my dark world will stain her innocence, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.

Crying is exhausting, and Desi has no reserves to keep it up. Emery disentangles herself and tenderly settles him on his pillow, brushing his hair from his clammy forehead as he closes his eyes. I open my mouth to speak, but she puts a finger on her lips, signaling me to shush.

I turn in the doorway as we leave. Desi is asleep, the slumber a brief respite from the relentless, painful grind of loneliness.

I know how he feels, but he’s a hero. He almost died defending his mother, while I can claim no such honor. I hid like a goddamn coward.

Years and years of nightmares. I buried them and threw myself into this morally gray life I built alongside Roman and Viktor.

But this thing with Desi brought it all back—the pain, the fear.

And the shame . That ever-present blade, cutting through my defenses and taking me back to that night, that endless night when I did fucking nothing to save my parents.

I let them die.

I can’t bring that to her. Emery deserves better than the ghosts I carry. She doesn’t need to know how weak I was—how weak I still am.

“Leon!” Emery is waving in front of my face, her own etched with concern. “Your message said you had plans for us tonight. I had plans for myself, as it happens.”

I smile. “A hot bath and browsing through this month’s House Plant Fancier does not constitute a good evening’s entertainment, moya zhena .”

“Maybe not to you.” She raises her eyebrows. “Is that a real publication?”

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” I smile as I retrieve an envelope from my pocket and hand it to her. “Now, what do you suppose this might be?”

Emery turns the envelope over in her hands. It’s printed with an all-over design of mountains and fields in a style I know she’ll recognize.

I’ve killed men with my bare hands, built an empire from ashes, and stared down men twice my size without flinching.

But right now, I feel like an awkward kid hoping for a smile from the prettiest girl in school.

A gasp escapes her as she realizes what she’s holding. “You’re kidding.” She raises her eyes to mine, and I’m overwhelmed by the joy writ on her beautiful face. “I asked Dante, and he refused, but you?—”

“Yep,” I say. “The Ghibli Art Expo is traveling the country, but it’s only in New York for three days. I thought you’d enjoy it, and what my wife wants, she gets.”

Her smile falters. “It’s hard to relax when there’s so much suffering in the world. Or at least, it’s hard for me.”

Her words hit like a gut punch. She doesn’t say it outright, but I know what she’s thinking: how can anyone appreciate art and beauty when the world is falling apart? When there are children like Desi out there who’ve lost everything?

And what would she think if she knew how much blood was on my hands?

I hold her empathy, forcing myself to feel the weight. I’m a criminal, a man who’s killed others without breaking a sweat.

Is Emery the light that balances my darkness? Or would she despise me if she knew the truth of the way I live?

I can’t keep it from her forever. I thought a month wasn’t long enough, but maybe we won’t make it that far.

“Come on,” I say, taking her hand. “You’ve done all you can for now. Let’s go, or we’ll be late.”