6. Niko
CHAPTER 6
I scour through another box of my father’s paperwork. My cock leaks needily as an unbidden image of Gianna’s tear-streaked face mid orgasm fills my mind. God, I need to fuck her again like that, and soon. Her wanting me and begging for it might be preferable, but I don’t mind taking it when we both come that hard.
I crumple some useless papers and toss them in the trash. Did my father have to save everything? Does everything have to keep me from her? I look around my father’s office, wondering what kind of things he has hidden here and how they might spring up to fuck me.
I don’t want to think about him or the mountain of shit he left behind. Least of all do I want to deal with Pax, who, for once, waits obediently for his next instruction. I’ve never seen him so lost, and I wonder about the strength of my father’s hand in his life. I want to be inside Gianna, not wondering about family dynamics I thought I understood but likely never will.
How can I be the boss when I can’t make a good decision to save my ass? When the facade is controlled, but my consistently simmering anger is so close to the surface that I worry I might snap. How can I keep Gianna or my crazy brother safe when everyone finds out what happened? But that’s exactly what I have to do.
Pax makes an easy target since he lives alongside reality. Catching someone unaware when they’re busy talking to a hallucination or staring into space for hours isn’t complicated. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s scary when it does.
We cleaned up the mess here last night, but the rug is no longer there, and the floor looks bare and worn without it. We sent my father’s body with the coroner I already paid for the Gemellis. This isn’t his jurisdiction, so it will buy us more time.
“So he was Dad to both of you?” he asks as he slaps the body bag-wrapped corpse. No tears shed here.
“Yes,” I answer, wondering where he might be going with this.
“Which one of you gutted him?” he asks with professional curiosity, but neither of us answers. It’s surprising that Pax is capable of behaving when he wants to.
“The same one that will gut you if you talk, my friend. Let’s keep you fat and rich, shall we?”
He agrees wholeheartedly.
I’ve been racking my brain for how I can spin this story to our advantage since I realized what Pax did. Alexandre’s death at our hands needs to look intentional. That’s the only way the men will fall in line. We need to make it look like we took Stefan Gemelli out at the same time, also intentionally. Goddammit, I wish I hadn’t burned the bodies.
I need them to be recognizable. Maybe I will need those DNA tests after all when I make my announcement in a few days. For now, no one will notice our father’s absence. He keeps no personal guards or close friends, and when he goes away, I’m in charge.
Being his mouthpiece while I spend a few days working things out won’t raise suspicion, but people will notice sooner rather than later. My biggest issue will be what happens when news of the Gemelli deaths gets out and properly claiming my actions. The bodies are my ace in the hole, which would have been so much simpler had I not burned a fake Gianna and her parents. Many will clamor to claim they are the responsible party given the reclusive location of the Gemelli deaths and staunch lack of witnesses, but I can’t let that happen.
I check my father’s phone again. I used his thumb to change the password as a sort of last farewell and have been going through it on and off since last night. Having access to his communications will be essential in handling this transition so Pax and I don’t both end up dead. With the Russians in play, it's a more dangerous time than ever.
I still haven’t found what I’m looking for twenty minutes later when the coroner texts me.
The house is torched like you said, but where are the bodies?
Where are the bodies? Where are the bodies? The bodies are the lynchpin of my entire plan! The only piece of this I still had under control was the Gemelli DNA.
Blinding-hot rage blanks out my vision, stopping my breath, thought, and senses. By the time I realize what I’ve done, the desk sits on its side. The meaningless papers lay scattered across the room, and glass ornaments are shattered on the ground.
I shake as I decide on my next move. Head in my hands, I breathe through the overwhelming rage as I stare at the floor. I pick the desk back up and leave it in place. I stare at the mess for another moment, then walk out, locking the office door behind me. I keep the key in my pocket alongside the one’s to Gianna’s room and bathroom because I can’t afford any more fucking surprises.
Where the fuck are the bodies? I ask myself while storming down the hall.
This is bad. This is seriously bad. My entire claim to the Gemelli territory is gone unless I reveal Gianna, and Domalachego is still circling. I rush past Pax drinking scotch in the study.
“Where are you going, Niko? Can I come?”
“No,” I snap at him. “Stay here and kill anyone who tries to get in, make a statement.”
“You want me to kill people all of a sudden?”
“You’re the younger brother of the boss, Pax. Your passion for killing is now your work, but that also means you need to obey.”
“Am I your dog now?”
His quippy comment answers at least one of my many concerns. He’s brilliant when he’s not trying.
“Yes, brother, that’s exactly what you are, and that’s why I asked you to kill Dad. Now stay on your leash, or I’ll smack your snout with a newspaper.”
“You asked me to kill Dad?” He cocks a black brow at me.
“And you obeyed like any good dog would.”
“Woof, woof. So nice to finally be a team.”
“Don’t make me regret it, brother.” But I already know I will.
The remote purrs as I reach the door and hop in my car, slamming it shut, and peeling out as he watches from the door. He barks at me and winks before closing it. I am so going to regret this decision.
Three hours later, I’m still driving to the lake house. The gorgeous scenery offers nothing but a marker of the passing time and how little I can afford it, but at least I’m almost there.
Upon my arrival, I park behind the tree line on the other side of the mountain. Thankfully it’s early enough in the season not to be sweltering, but my hike through the woods and over the steep incline proves even tougher without Gianna as my destination. Even without the proper motivation, I pick the path through the woods to the house just like Gi showed me.
All of the emergency responders have left. The only cars that remain are Gianna’s and Stefan’s, but it’s thoroughly taped off as a crime scene.
The air stinks like smoke and my failure as I approach the side door I left propped open the night before. I inspect the area, not trusting my luck at finding the place empty. Have the Gemelli men not heard about the tragedy yet? This place was a secret even from his inner circle. Maybe they really haven’t.
I approach what remains of the door with a small knife in my hand and cut the tape. It flutters in the breeze as it drops away from the house like a morbid victory line. You’re king of your empire now. You got the prize you never wanted.
The door falls off the hinges as I push it open. The place is entirely burned out, support beams exposed and beginning to char. The accelerant I used was no joke. Piles of warped and burned-out furniture decorate the remaining spots on the floor. The place I left the housekeeper catches my eye. The missing wood reveals the basement below. The gas line behind the stove blew.
Fuck, I made a very dangerous choice coming in here. What’s left of the floor creaks miserably. The remaining walls and supports sway with my movement. I consider just leaving as it could fall apart at any moment, but that would be a waste of my time. I came this far, and maybe something here will help me solidify my claim without exposing Gianna’s back. Like I told her. I’d go to shocking lengths for her and braving a condemned house doesn’t even come close to that definition.
I head to the dining room where I killed them and left their bodies. I’m not sure what I expect to find exactly; it may be the vaguest hint of what happened and where they might have gone. It’s not Fyodor Domalachego waiting for me with an expectant expression that shifts to mild surprise with the raise of his brow.
He dwarfs most men just in his shoulders. A massive mound of muscle with coal black eyes sits on a mildly burned chair from another part of the house, exactly where the Gemelli dining table used to be. His pictures don’t do him justice. Scars cover what’s visible of his skin, gruesome patches that couldn't have been stitched. He leans back with his shoulders relaxed as if he’s comfortable. I’m impressed by the act, rather sure he’s been here most of the night.
“Mr. Bouchard,” he speaks in a thick Russian accent. “I must admit, it wasn’t you I expected to find poking around this afternoon.”
I smile, but it's more like baring my teeth.
“Who did you expect?” Because it’s clear he expected someone.
“Perhaps the great coward Gemelli, who ran before our meeting last night and set his own home ablaze. Perhaps your father sniffing over the ashes. But I didn’t expect you, his eldest son. Why are you here, Nikolai?”
I school my expression to hide my surprise at him speaking my first name and the understanding he’s formed over the events of last night. If he thinks Gemelli is alive, he hasn’t moved the bodies. Unless he doesn’t want me to know Gemelli is dead.
“Your mother is Italian, isn’t she?” The question is a taunt rather than a true request for confirmation. “Why did she choose the Russian spelling of your name?”
There’s no need to tell him she read it in a book and liked the written appearance better. He’s made his threat clear. He knows how to spell my name, that my mother is Italian, and likely where she lives too. Hurting her is well within his abilities, just like learning anything he likes about me. Nothing I care for is safe.
“My mother isn’t any concern of yours. I’m here to see if the Gemellis are missing.” They surely fucking are, given their corpses were meant to be with the coroner, but if he doesn’t think they’re dead, I’d rather not lead him to that.
“Your father is concerned about his enemies so quickly?” A thick thread of suspicion winds through his tone.
“He and Stefan are always concerned with one another.”
“But he’s not investigating, you are. If I were in his position I’d come see if my enemies had fallen myself.” The fact he’s sitting in that chair is plenty proof of that fact.
“I am my father’s humble servant.” Yeah, humbly stapled his skin together to hold his guts in for the ride with the coroner.
We stare at one another as he waits for me to break and I wait for him to get the idea I won’t.
“Alexandre believes the Gemellis are missing, does he?” A single eyebrow pops like he doesn’t find that likely.
“He does.”
“Or perhaps they ran to avoid satisfying their contract with me.” He looks me up and down, and the anger behind the suggestion lends truth to the idea he’s really not the one who took their bodies.
“I haven’t heard you had a contract, but missing or running amount to the same thing.” I nearly growl as I speak. The mere thought of someone else believing they are entitled to my princess makes me as bloodthirsty as Pax.
“I’m sure your father has heard about the contract.” He smiles knowingly. “If he’s already heard about their disappearance, then your father has deep informants in the Gemelli organization.” That’s true, but I don’t bother addressing it. “Further, and perhaps more importantly, I’d be shocked if you were unaware of anything to do with my wife. Your obsession is well-known in certain circles.”
It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks they know; all that matters is that I keep her safe now.
“I wasn’t aware you married her.” My jaw clenches so hard I worry about my teeth.
“I know you’ve kept close tabs on Miss Gemelli over the years. Given your arrival here this afternoon, I don’t strictly believe you, Mr. Bouchard. In fact, I think you know all about our deal. You’ve been stalking my wife for a very long time not to know everything about her.”
That’s a kick in the teeth. How does he know about my extracurricular activities with Gianna? No one but Carlo does.
“She’s not your fucking wife.”
White-hot rage suffocates me, and he nods like I've acknowledged his accusations.
“Signing the contract with her father meant more than marrying the girl. You know that, Mr. Bouchard. You might like to play it, but you’re not stupid.”
“Perhaps I am.” I meet his eyes, laying a thoughtless challenge. I could keep Gianna safer without arousing his suspicions.
“Trust me, I will find my wife. She and her family will pay for making a fool of me.” He lazily taunts, like he’s got all the time in the world to make that a reality.
“You give them too much credit.”
He laughs just once.
“Will you be making a fool of me, then?”
“Of course not. I’m simply here to see if we need to adjust the lines of our territory. From what I can see, it looks like we do.”
He pulls a small map out of his pocket and opens it in front of him. Red lines and marks show through the back. He’s been planning this for a long time, perhaps before Stefan agreed to hand over Gianna. He pretends he’s consulting the paper.
“I wouldn’t move too quickly on that, Mr. Bouchard. I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon.” He leans back in the chair like he’s comfortable in his own office, in the ultimate position of power.
“And what entitles you to stay?”
“It would have been Stefan’s head had he not offered me his daughter. None of that ugliness is necessary now. Gianna Gemelli is mine, and this is my territory.”
“And where do you stand in regard to my territory?”
He stands, showing his superior height.
“You mean your father’s?” Another flash of suspicion in his dark eyes. “We’re neighbors, but maybe the kind that stay in our own yards. Tell him for me.”
“Very well, if you stay out of ours, we’ll stay out of yours.”
“It’s excellent that we understand each other, Mr. Bouchard. Now, if you see Stefan, tell him I’m going to make his daughter pay for his cowardice.”
I’ll cut him open and hand him to the pigs still screaming if he even tries it.
“What are you planning to tell your men about the Gemelli absence?” The demand for violence climbs up my throat nearly strangling me. He’s right in front of me, close enough to make a move on, but I’m trying to play this smart. His threats to Gianna are bait. He’ll never get to her.
“Nothing. I’m here on behalf of the Gemellis while they’re dealing with problems out of town.” He winks. “Stefan is well, and we’re in contact. But you may see a lot more Bratva over the coming months. In preparation for the wedding of course.”
That wedding will happen over my dead body. While he made the point that he’s going to be a problem for me, I’m not afraid of him. The big bad in my life is already dead.
“I got what I needed. I'm sure I’ll see you again sometime, Mr. Domalachego.”
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Bouchard.” He offers me a sliver of respect rather than using my given name again. “If you see Gianna, do tell her I’m expecting her.”
He offers his hand to shake mine, and it’s only my need to keep her safe that forces me to return the gesture, perhaps with a little too much force.
“I can’t imagine I’ll see her.”
“But if you do,” he insists with a wicked glimmer in his eyes, revealing that his suspicions are aimed squarely at me.