Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Lucy
Kirill’s fingers wrapped around my jaw to keep my face steady while his mouth planted a firm kiss on my lips.
He didn’t use his tongue. He wasn’t gambling on the chance that I might bite him.
The kiss was over as quickly as it began, but I could still feel the imprint it left behind, including the outrage and urge to slap that smug look off his face.
“Off you go, Lucifer,” he murmured.
My chest rose and fell with my inability to form words. “You—”
His hand around my jaw slackened and slid to my throat with his thumb brushing my chin, tipping it up. “If you don’t leave this minute, I’ll kiss you again.” The warning in his tone was unmistakable.
Thankfully, he dropped his hand, or I would have knocked it off my face. The man was impossible! And he was going to be my future husband? But I didn’t doubt we gave the press plenty to write about. I plopped into the soft leather seats. I could still smell the newness of the vehicle.
Kirill closed the door and stood back while Sato slid into the driver’s seat. The engine was already running, so all he had to do was shift gears to move. Thank God. I couldn’t wait to get out of here.
When the gates opened, a row of men in dark tactical uniforms kept the crowd away from our vehicle, but I recognized the reporter who loved writing about organized crime families in the Manhattan Tattler. Still, I gritted my teeth and gripped the side of the vehicle until we were clear.
“I hope they won’t follow us,” I told Sato, finally giving my attention to the driver. “And you can’t be my bodyguard. My family won’t stand for it.”
“I go where you go. You are the pakhan’s fiancée now. If I have to sit in front of your apartment, I will.”
“Listen, I don’t know how my family will react. I’m sure by now that reporter…shit, I forgot her name…”
“Romero,” Sato replied.
“Right. Kirill made a production of our being a couple.” I was surprised I hadn’t turned to stone at his kiss. “It will take at most half an hour before my brother catches wind of it.” And despite the distance of Kirill’s mansion from the gate, I’d seen the zoom lenses of the paparazzi.
Kirill orchestrated our exit from the residence flawlessly—no rushing and no sign that we were hiding our relationship.
All the way back to the Upper East Side, I contemplated how to tell my family.
I buried my head in my hands. This was a disaster.
Now that I couldn’t be pissed at Kirill, I was left floundering on how to spin this lie to Luca and Dom.
Two dons with a shrewd bullshit meter. It was useless to work on my excuses.
The best thing for me was to say less until Margo came by with Kirill and his parents to formally ask for my hand in marriage.
The image that invoked made me want to laugh hysterically. My life had turned on a dime. Yesterday, I was carefree and did as I pleased. Today, every single move had to be calculated.
The vehicle’s new-car smell suffocated in its unfamiliarity, signifying a radical change in my life’s trajectory.
One I never expected. Blindsided, I functioned as if I were still in a fevered dream.
My heart edged closer to my throat, and my lungs had difficulty expanding and contracting.
I had asthma as a child, and this certainly felt like I was getting an attack.
I leaned forward in the vehicle. “Can you turn up the AC?”
“Are you all right?” I caught his concerned eyes in the rearview mirror, and I had a feeling he’d been observing my panicky spiral.
“Just overwhelmed.” I scooted back in my seat to give my driver an appraisal.
His upturned almond eyes and the rest of his features suggested a mixed heritage.
His arms were a pattern of blue-gray ink with deep coral and golden flowers and fish scales…
or maybe dragon scales? “So I noticed Kirill’s crew are not primarily Russian. ”
He checked the traffic on both sides before he crossed a four-way stop, but not before I saw the flash of his grin. He had more personality than Kirill already. “I’m part Russian, part Japanese.”
“You grew up here?” He had a slight accent.
“No. I grew up everywhere.”
“Huh. Japan?”
“For a while.”
“I’ve been to Japan once. I swore I would go back one day since I enjoyed my visit and the people are so nice. I got lost in Tokyo on a connecting train, and a woman, who could’ve been in her sixties, got off the train with me and made sure I was put on the right one.”
Sato gave a humming sound, but clearly he wasn’t sharing more of his origins, so I decided to play a game of fishing. After all, he was going to be my bodyguard.
“So, what do you do for Kirill besides bodyguarding his fiancée?”
“This and that.”
Ugh. So, forget anything about sharing. “You know I could have your dossier by this afternoon, right?”
This time his eyes crinkled at the corners, and the grin returned to his face. “Pakhan is going to have his hands full with you.”
“So you think I stand a chance against him?”
Sato gave a pained chuckle, but there was chiding in his tone when he spoke. “It’s supposed to be a marriage, not a tournament of who is going to win.”
I wasn’t about to be lectured, so I leaned back, crossed my arms and feigned interest in the passing Manhattan skyline scenery. I read people well, and right now, no matter how much I charmed Sato and made him feel sorry for my situation, his loyalty was pledged to Kirill.
We were almost at the Upper East Side, and I was getting nervous, wired even. I had no phone, and I didn’t know what to expect. There was that feeling of anxiety as well as the desire to get this over with.
“Fuck,” Sato muttered.
“What?” But when I scooted in between the front seats to stare at what was ahead, my throat closed up.
Two black SUVs were parked in front of my apartment building, but what called my attention was the imposing man in a dark suit looking like the devil who had emerged from his lair to taunt the morning sunshine.
Luca had arrived. And he had his soldiers with him.
Had I been too late to stop a war?
His body froze and everyone around him became alert.
He slowly removed his sunglasses, and his dark eyes squinted at our approaching vehicle.
He didn’t even wait for Sato to stop in front of the building as he strode with determination toward the Bentley.
“Let me do the talking,” I muttered.
Sato jammed on the brakes when Luca yanked open the door on my side. I was lifted out of the vehicle, and by the time Luca set me to stand on the sidewalk, his men surrounded us, and my uncle engulfed me in his arms.
“I was worried,” he breathed in my ear as I felt his whole body sag into me with relief. He gently pulled away to peer into my eyes. A muscle in his jaw was jumping. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Are these your keys?” One of his men was holding my purse and also my duffel.
“Wait.” I pointed at Sato, who was on the phone. “He’s with me.”
“That’s one of Zahkarov’s top soldiers,” Luca said grimly.
“Well, he’s my bodyguard.” I shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
I took my keys from the soldier and walked with my uncle who seemed to have lapsed into two heartbeats of silence.
“What the hell is going on?” Luca asked but was cut short by the ringing of his phone. He checked the caller and answered. “Dom?” Brief pause. “Yes, I have her. We’re going up to her unit now. My men will fill you in.”
We entered the elevator, and two of Luca’s men flanked us. Briefly, Sato and I made eye contact, and I was glad he didn’t push to go up to my apartment with me. Kirill assigned a bodyguard, not a spy. With Luca’s men—I counted around six soldiers scattered around—I couldn’t be safer.
“Is Dom coming?”
“What do you think?” Luca replied curtly. “I was hoping to talk to you before I informed him I was in Manhattan, but that damn gossip rag blasted breaking morning news of you coming out of Kirill’s house. Not only that, he kissed you for the world to see! What is going on, Lucy?”
The elevator reaching my floor saved me from answering. “It’s been a crazy night.”
“Davenport’s dead. It has something to do with it, doesn’t it?” Luca asked.
“Let’s get into my unit first.” I glanced at Luca’s soldiers. “They can’t come in.”
“Fair enough.” He instructed them to stand guard.
Luca accepted the duffel from his soldier and walked in with me.
“Would you mind telling me why you’re dressed like you’re going to Sunday church when last I talked to you, you were going clubbing?”
“I’d rather explain that part when Dom gets here,” I said. “Let’s talk about Davenport. How does his death affect you?”
“Davenport was our guy,” Luca said. “But he was wavering. I didn’t care. He was ideal because it would’ve made Moscow and my plans align, but I have other politicians who can help me.”
“And Peter?”
“Peter didn’t like that since it gave me leverage over him.”
“Do you know what happened to Bruce’s lover?”
“No.”
“Do you think Peter ordered him killed?”
Luca scrubbed his hand down his face in frustration. “I wouldn’t know. I told Peter not to send Viktor. That asshole is a loose cannon.”
You can say that again.
“Can you make coffee?” Luca asked. “I had a meeting the other night and haven’t slept in the last thirty-six hours.” He gave his head a shake as if to wake himself up.
I headed to my kitchen and adjusted the setting to make ten cups. I figured my brother would want some too when he arrived.
Luca shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. My poor zio. He was spread too thin.
“How’s Natalya and Elias?” I asked.
“They’re fine, but she’s annoyed I have them on lockdown while I’m away. She’s worried about you, and I got a sermon from her about involving you with getting Davenport in line.”
“It’s my job, but I wish you'd looped me in sooner.”
Luca stared at me. “Davenport didn’t die at home, did he?”
“Not my story to tell.”
“Goddammit. Viktor killed Davenport, then.”
“Not my story to tell either.”