Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Kolya
“I…how did you find me?” she whispered. Did it bother me she sounded scared? Not really. She should be scared. Especially if I proved she had hidden an unforgivable secret from me.
Although, could I blame her?
I wasn’t father material. I was a criminal. Kolya the Killer. The bratva hit man. Even accused of being the Mistress Strangler serial killer.
“It isn’t hard. Now, I’m handing the receiver to this nice gentleman, and you will tell him to send me up.”
Silence.
There was a commotion over the line, and I heard voices. A man. He'd better be her security and not a man she was fucking.
“Chloe?” I gritted.
The phone went dead.
Fine. I returned the receiver to the building concierge, drew my gun, and pointed it at his head. “You will take me to her apartment.”
Poor man turned as gray as his shirt's color. It almost looked as if he was going to throw up. I didn’t care. If he were an obstacle, he became a number.
“Drop your weapon!”
Movement behind me called my attention. Without lowering my gun, I turned around and sighed. Building security. He had his gun pointed at me, but his hand was shaking. The thing with rent-a-cops is they lacked real-world experience, and when faced with actual threats, they choked.
But I was cognizant of the fact that if I killed these two idiots, then I had no way of accessing Chloe’s apartment.
The concierge's phone rang again. “Can I answer this?”
“Go ahead.”
I lowered my weapon. The man barely answered the phone when he handed the receiver to me like he was disposing of a lethal viper.
“What the hell are you doing?” Chloe yelled. So she was watching me on surveillance. “This is outrageous. How dare you threaten innocent people?”
“Not so innocent if they’re keeping you from me.”
Some asshole was talking to her in the background, telling her to wait for backup and that they were on the way.
My phone started ringing. I ignored it.
It was probably Kirill. He was my pakhan, but I was mostly an ask-for-forgiveness-later kind of guy. He was probably pissed I broke the truce with the De Luccis, including the part about not being seen near a King, because the hell was I waiting.
“Tell them to send me up,” I demanded.
“You’re going to surrender your weapons at the door before you come in,” Chloe said.
“Fine.”
I handed the phone back to the concierge, whose look of relief sent the same wave coursing through my veins.
Ever since Lucy let slip that she saw Chloe with a baby, it knocked me off my axis and I became a live wire whipping up a frenzy of anticipation.
Once I received confirmation from our tech guy that Trevor Hayes had dropped Chloe off at this address, nothing could stop me from showing up.
I knew the De Luccis moved her here three days ago. That was even before I found out about the baby. Yes, I couldn’t leave well enough alone even when my conscience warned me to do so.
Okay, scratch that. I didn’t have a conscience. So…
Despite my reputation, I wasn’t a trigger-happy prick. If I left a trail of dead bodies, I doubted I’d be successful with my purpose for coming here.
I headed to the elevators, leaving the concierge to stumble after me. He swiped his access card and punched the button for the fifth floor, then he mumbled “507” before he scrambled away.
The elevator opened, and a blond guy stood scowling at me in the hallway.
A goliath who looked like he lived on protein shakes and bench presses.
I doubted he was agile. Not with the way he was so disproportionately built, with big arms and a chest that made his head look tiny.
I calculated ways I could pin him down. I could probably use my legs or use the walls for leverage.
When I reached him, I raised my arms. “Don’t miss the one in my boot.”
He grunted.
“I’m not a danger to Chloe.”
“I’m keeping my eyes on you, asshole.”
“You should,” I replied. “I didn’t say I wasn’t a danger to you.”
“What the fuck is this?” he snapped when he sussed my back.
I sighed. “Have you never seen a machete before?”
“And you warned me about the weapon in your boot?”
“The machete is hard to miss.”
“I don’t have enough hands for this. Who needs this many guns and knives?”
Does this guy even know who I am?
Four guns, four knives, and the machete.
He glared at me as he tossed them one by one on the floor behind him.
I was getting bored. And bored me became destructive.
“Miss Brown?” Blond said on his phone. “We’re ready to come in.”
I gritted my teeth at the insane, unexpected euphoria I felt at the thought of seeing Chloe again. I should have erased her existence from my mind because the bratva was no place for her.
The door opened and she stood there, crossing her arms, gripping her biceps.
She looked…stressed. Chestnut hair gathered loosely in a ponytail that might have looked more polished this morning.
Emerald green pantsuit, starched white top—part of her outfit when she met with her stuffy brother.
Did I expect her to fling her arms around me?
No. Not after the last time we saw each other.
The last time I saw her, we were embroiled in a clusterfuck standoff.
She almost killed Jeremiah King, and I would have relieved her of any guilt and solved her problems with them if not for Theo warning us of the consequences.
I should have burned the King brothers in their miserable mansion and called it a day, but Kirill had to act like a fucking politician.
Chloe Brown. I winced at her last name. It was one of her many fake last names.
She stuck to the generic ones. There was nothing generic about Chloe’s soulful brown eyes that spoke of innocence and tragedy in the same blink.
It was what had drawn me to her. Then I noticed the elegant curve of her jawline.
It compelled me to nibble down to the pulse at her neck.
She cleared her throat.
My gaze lingered on her pulse before lazily lifting it and smirking, but I wanted nothing more than to grab her face and turn her irresistible bow-shaped lips swollen.
The scent of eggs and baby powder refocused my attention on my purpose. Past her shoulder, the existence of a playpen renewed my anger from earlier.
“Is there something I should know?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I was going to tell you.”
“The child is mine?”
“Yes.”
That one word filled my chest to maximum capacity. I had been ninety-nine percent sure I was the father. With the way I’d been so reckless during our weekend together, deep down I wondered if it had consequences.
Then I got fucking arrested, and all perspectives changed.
I inhaled and exhaled sharply to clear the buzzing in my head, then glanced over my shoulder at the bodyguard. “You can leave us.”
“Hell no,” he snarled.
I stared at Chloe. “Tell him to leave.” I clenched my fists to keep them from grabbing Blond Dude and throwing him out myself.
“I’ll be fine, Hudson.”
“I won’t hurt the mother of my child,” I told him in a tone that, for the first time since I arrived, was devoid of aggression or mockery.
He glanced at Chloe. His jaw worked convulsively before he exited, whipping his phone instantly to his ear, probably calling the De Luccis and keeping them updated about this devil’s movements.
“He’s a boy,” Chloe said.
I offered a brief nod, still processing this information. “How old is he?”
“Eight months. He was overdue by a week, but it’s normal for a first child.”
I let my eyes roam the apartment. There was a door to a room and a hallway that led to more. “Can I see him?”
“Nic…”
I flinched. “Don’t call me that, princess, and I won’t call you Crystal.”
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. That bottom lip of a mouth I’d imagined countless times when I’d jacked off in prison.
“You've lost your French accent.” An accusatory tone filled the gaps in those words.
“I was on a job.”
“Was I the job? Were you sent to kill me?”
How much to tell her? Everyone who knew of my purpose there was dead. Even Kirill didn’t know. “No. I had business with the distillery there.” Business meaning collecting on payment the manager was stiffing the bratva on.
“I don’t believe you.” She tipped her chin up defiantly.
“If you’re implying I was there to kill you, you would be dead.” My mouth twisted cruelly. “I had countless opportunities to break your neck, remember?”
Color climbed her cheeks. Yes. She remembered. She’d been on her knees sucking my cock. With my fingers controlling her head movements, I could have easily snapped her neck.
I stepped closer. She tried to evade me, but I reeled her in. Her chest rose and fell, and her breathing turned erratic.
Her hips seemed rounder, but her tits appeared the same.
“Where’s my son, Chloe?” I asked softly. Her entire body jerked.
Tears filled her eyes, and fear clouded them. “What are you going to do to Sebastian?” Her sob hitched. She was genuinely scared.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” I asked.
“You can’t have him.”
I stepped back and sighed. “You honestly think I’m going to take my son away from his mother?”
Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. “Then…”
“He will need the bratva’s protection.”
“I’m handling his security.”
“No,” I growled. “He’s a Petrov. He will grow up in the bratva.”
“What are you saying? I’m not marrying you.”
Her statement was so absurd, I threw back my head and laughed. When I stopped, she was glaring at me as if I’d insulted her. I probably had, but better she knew the score now than later.
“Men like me don’t marry. We exist to protect the bratva. My son will do the same. I will support you, of course. Provide a house…”
The fear in her eyes morphed into undisguised contempt. “Absolutely not! You don’t get to dictate this after you disappeared on me and—”
“No names. No regrets. Remember?” I reminded her. And the asshole in me couldn’t help taunting, “What’s the matter? You needed a cuddle? A sweet goodbye?”
Her lips curled into a sneer. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to be left behind like discarded trash.”
“I cleaned up after myself. You should be thankful.”